Bitch on the Blog

October 3, 2012

Resisting the pull

If you want to feel sick, are a failed bulimic (who can’t make himself sick) or want to learn that you have chosen the wrong career, venture no further than Phil’s

Watch it, preferably before you eat. Or in the middle of the night when your last meal has been digested and there is little further to bring up.

Normally Phil does Opera or dances the Tango. But at least both of those keep your feet on terra firma. What all three [opera, Tango and heights] have in common is the drama of it. Maybe that makes Phil the Drama King to my Drama Queen. On stage. With Mrs Phil in the audience, applauding.

I didn’t watch Phil’s clip. If I want to look down on anything I go and see my bank manager. He is a man of sorrow as, these days, a bank manager has no discretion any longer. No power to make a decision on his own instinct, impervious to any charm offensive.  He is slave to what the computer tells him to tell me. What that does do to his masculinity I have, so far, refused to contemplate. Anyway, that’s his wife’s affair.

So, yes, Phil set me thinking. Thinking being not so much a contact sport as a dangerous pastime.

You do know, don’t you, why most people, even those reluctant to go up the Eiffel Tour or a Pyramid outside Cairo, are perfectly happy to fly? It’s simple. You sit in a capsule. High above the clouds. Removed from reality. Obviously turmoil across the Atlantic will focus your mind as to the possibility of taking more than a nose dive  (though not when having been upgraded to business class and your stewardess keeps filling your glass with champagne till you don’t care about anything any longer).

So that’s all good. However, there is mystery about height when you face it head on without the shell of a Boeing between you and down there. Height has magic. Drawing us to the abyss. Will you jump? Won’t you jump? Height is the devil. If you allow yourself to look down. That’s why, when I go for a walk along the cliffs, I always look at the horizon. Even at the risk of becoming sea sick.




  1. Ah Drama! Ah Theater! Don’t know about the King part, though I do imagine it is good to be King. I am probably more like the one eyed man in the valley of the blind.

    Your point about being encased in the shell of a Boeing spurs another thought in my head. Clothing. I wonder if there are parallels about the mysteries and magic of being drawn into the abyss of human relations if we were stripped of our clothing. And I wonder if you would not allow yourself to look down and keep your eyes on the horizon for fear of… well… never mind.

    It occurs to me I probably shouldn’t post comments at 1:30 am in the morning with extreme fatigue setting in and making my post seem rather incoherent. But then again, what fun would it be without drama?

    Comment by Phil — October 3, 2012 @ 05:33 | Reply

    • Never worry about the time, Phil. To rephrase the rather sad “In vino veritas”: Writing in the middle of the night all cats are grey. Which is a shame if you are a ginger, but still. At least, in the morning, the thought police will have some difficulty to identify you.

      Thought begets thought. Thus one thought begets another. That’s the trouble with thoughts: No sooner do you two rub together you’ll have a warren full of baby rabbits. Or thunder and lightning.

      Your pondering on the naked abyss has me quaking. I sure am an admirer of the human form (within reason). However:

      Leaving aside that Adam left paradise with no more than a fig leaf, and that Eve had both her hands full to hide the shame of succumbing to the snake, clothing was invented for two purposes. The obvious one: To keep us warm. Goose pimples are not sightly. But mainly we wear clothes to stir our imagination, to keep the mystery. Not for nothing do children play ‘hide and seek’. Not for nothing do we need to shell nuts. And bananas too want to be peeled. Other than that I’d recommend to turn down the light, switch it off altogether, light a candle or emigrate.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 3, 2012 @ 16:39 | Reply

  2. I don’t mind heights if I feel safe – Eiffel Tower, Top of Empirer State Building, airplanes. But put me on a ladder past the first story and I’m wobbly and shaky. I don’t know what is up with that. I did walk across the swinging bridge at Grandfather Mountain but hate those chair lifts. I’m going straight to Phil’s site now.

    Comment by writingfeemail — October 3, 2012 @ 11:20 | Reply

    • What a trusting soul you are, Renee. Me too. Maybe in future, when we are up there past the first storey respectively, I can hold your ladder and you can hold mine. That way we can keep each other company in A&E (Accidents and Emergencies). The waits tend to be long – unless you are half dead already. In which case they fast forward you as best they can.

      Chair lifts? Do you mean those which take you up the mountain? Well, providing I don’t think about it I can just about do that – fully expecting to get stuck midway. Those are the moments when I tell myself to have a bit of faith. In what? I am not sure. Maybe the engineering maintenance department. Or my luck. After all, on my way down, on my skiers, whilst being re-connected to Mother Earth I might find myself having launched an avalanche. Overtaking my good self. Sweeping me off my feet as it were.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — October 3, 2012 @ 16:27 | Reply

  3. I saw a hiker friend from our group run down the Padrenol trail, slip & fall over the edge to her death. Her name was Georgia. Her husband was in a quartet & they sang Georgia On My Mind.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — October 3, 2012 @ 17:31 | Reply

  4. …they sang Georgia On My Mind AT HER FUNERAL.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — October 3, 2012 @ 17:33 | Reply

  5. U, you are a riot! If you want to look down on anything you go see your bank manager? Now that, my friend is funny. I got so caught up in that line, I forgot what else you were saying about the illusion of being protected if you are in an airplane…or something like that.

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — October 5, 2012 @ 19:12 | Reply

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