Imaginary Saturday Morning

It would start like this: an early start; not too early – I wake up stupid early on weekdays still – say about 9am. Out of the bed, make tea and wander to the newsagent for the papers and return and drink tea and read and relax. Sports first, not because I am a fanatic about it, but because it is the most disposable of news. A preview of some game feels so redundant after the game has been played and all the potential there was in the contest has been exhausted and all the possible avenues that existed beforehand were reduced to one path which led to the result and it is a sad thing, sometimes, to read about all the possibilities at some later date when you know that most of those possibilities died soon after the article was written. It’s sad to me, anyway. Until the thing has been allowed to rest for a while – for days or weeks – and then it becomes a historical document and becomes interesting and not anywhere near as sad.

I don’t read all the sport. I look at results and start reading things which seem interesting and frequently don’t finish articles because they aren’t written very well or because I realise that I really don’t care very much after all.

And I read the TV columns, as they are usually witty, and a couple of the columns, the personal kind where a writer talks about what their cat did, and they are called Feuilleton or Causerie, I think, although I could be wrong about this, and they can be either self-indulgent and a little pointless or quite interesting and rather entertaining if the writer is a good writer, and some writers are capable of being self-indulgent and entertaining in the same column, and you don’t know what you’ll get until you read. Next politics, and the opinion bits and longer articles and a general steering away from editorials as there really isn’t much point reading them.

Then food of some sort. An early lunch. Eating while reading the arts and entertainment section. Preferably with interesting book reviews and a couple of long pieces, like an author profile or a report about a lost work by a famous author becoming found again and maybe an essay about something connected with science but which isn’t too scientific to turn me off and possibly even something a bit more challenging, like a piece of classical music criticism or a review of an art exhibition (both of which can either show off a writer’s talent or be impenetrable tosh composed by a tosser to be appreciated by his tossy mates), and then more reviews of history books and making mental notes of books I might like to buy or own or somehow acquire or at least read some day.

Then bed. Sleep. A nap. At about 1 or 2pm.

Wake up at about 3 and read some of whatever book I’m reading and feel a hell of a lot better.

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Published in: on October 24, 2012 at 7:36 pm  Leave a Comment  

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