Back in the days of my adolescence, the first erotic film went on general release in the UK. It starred Sylvia Kristel in the title role of Emmanuelle. The film told the story of a bored but sexually promiscuous housewife following her diplomat husband to Asia and how she fills her days with dreamy, soft-focus tête-à-têtes. The following years spawned umpteen sequels but it was the first film that affected my youthful mind. I was in love with Sylvia Kristel, not because she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen but because she was a dirty little minx.
My daughter is a vegan. There is nothing I love more than eating a nice juicy steak and yet my daughter is a vegan. I enjoy my food and I hate to admit it but sometimes I think I actually live to eat; my daughter, on the other hand, eats to live. I have a habit of slouching instead of standing up straight. However, if I do make the effort to stand-up I am six foot two and yet my daughter is a mere five foot two. I love loud rock music, my daughter likes silly little pop songs. I am big and loud in company whereas my daughter is quieter (although she has her moments) and petite. I have often accused the hospital of presenting me with the wrong child at birth simply because I cannot think of anyone on this planet who I have less in common with.
Despite our differences, I think I get on with her better than I get on with anyone else. Taking our differences into consideration, I don’t know why. Sometimes friendships end because one side of the relationship says a word out of place and upsets the other. Yet, we often shout and scream at each other calling each other the most terrible of names – yet we just laugh it off.
One of my favourite films is Fried Green Tomatoes at The Whistle Stop Café. It tells the story of Evelyn Couch and the problems she is facing in her marriage to a man more interested in watching sports on the television than anything to do with her. Then, while visiting a relative in a nursing home, she meets Ninny Threadgoode; another old lady in a nursing home living in the past. However, her story of Idgie Threadgoode, a young woman in 1920’s Alabama, is about to change Evelyn’s life forever.
I have always fancied having some really interesting illness. Not something that would blight my life beyond recovery, just something to talk about at parties. You know the way people talk about their piles in mixed company or their old war wound. Alas, it is not to be because despite abusing my body for fifty two years it has remained predominantly healthy. I wouldn’t say I was a paradigm of health and fitness but then again I am not in the doctor’s surgery every other day either. In fact, I have only visited the doctor’s surgery a couple of times since I outgrew asthma in my early twenties.
So here I am daunted by my desire for an interesting illness.
Or so I thought…