Thursday, April 18 2019

08:00 Lois and I get up early - Derek's funeral is scheduled for 12 noon at Gloucester Crematorium. Derek was a member of Lois's sect and died a few months ago after suffering from dementia for 2-3 years.

I put on my 25-year-old suit and my dark tie. I print out some maps of the surrounding area to the crematorium, something I always do in case the GPS unit doesn't work for any reason. In other words, I prepare for every possibility, including various cataclysmic disasters.

I put my funeral tie on, but I don't tighten it yet

I print out some maps of the area in case

the GPS unit does not work for any reason.

A series of arrows indicates the route.

Only one small problem - I feel so exhausted for some reason, that I seriously begin to wonder if it is safe for me to drive or not - yikes! It's getting really bad these days !!!!!

10:30 But the decision (i.e. to go for it or to stay at home) is taken out of my hands - Lois discovers, 15 minutes before we have to leave, that she has a stomach problem again, so we send a text message to our friend, Mari-Ann, and ask her to pass on our apologies.

Suddenly, we have a little unexpected free time. We would have had to spend several hours there at the crematorium, not just for the service but also the lunch and chat afterwards.

We sit on the sofa and we read some more pages of "The Further You Fall", Anna Grue’s crime novel, which is our U3A Danish group's current project.

" The Further You Fall" (back row, second from left), Anna Grue’s crime novel,

which is our U3A Danish group's current project.

Our (temporarily depressed) hero, advertising man Dan Sommerdahl, is speaking to his friend Fleming, a detective inspector in the local police, about a murder that has taken place in the advertising agency where Dan works (when he is not on sick leave ha ha!). One of the agency's cleaning assistants, Lilliana, has been garrotted one evening while she was doing her work in the agency's kitchen.

The problem is that the delightfully-named office-cleaning company, "Skrubbe-kompagni", which sends cleaning assistants to the advertising agency, say they have never heard of Lilliana. So the police do not even know her last name or her age - all they know is that she gave birth  "vaginally" at some point in the last  6-12 months.

Good grief, what madness !!!

Immediately  we begin to wonder if Lilliana was an illegal immigrant, or something similar. But why would anyone want to kill such a woman? My goodness, what a crazy world we live in !!!!

Lois and I read further pages of the book this morning, and we are very pleased to be able to find out why Dan later gets the occasional nickname of "the bald detective". Lois and I do not have the faintest idea whether Dan is in fact the only bald amateur detective in Denmark – so the jury is still out on that one.

Dan turns out to be a member of that very rare species, 

the lesser spotted bald amateur detective: 

here on another book cover we see his hands resting on his head 

in the vicinity of his embarrassing "bald spot": but what about

the mysterious 3^rd hand  to be seen, that's also resting on the back of his head? 

Has Dan got 3 hands? Is it one of his wife’s hands? 

Or the killer's, maybe ? It’s hard to be 100% sure at this point.

But it is very nice to read the back-story of Dan's baldness, to put it mildly. His friend Fleming, a crime officer in the local police, has known Dan for years. He says that when Dan was a teenager, he had thick, light brown hair: always perfectly cut to the hairstyle that was “hottest” at the time. Now Dan’s more of a tonsured monk, it seems. At the first sign of the incipient bald spot, Dan had simply grabbed the trimmer and put an end to any speculation.

And at the same time as Dan began to lose his hair, other things were going on - he had moved in with Marianne and generally became more focused, and as far as Fleming knows, has never been drunk, “high”, or unfaithful, for years. That's what happens when you develop a bald spot in Denmark, apparently.

Lois and I take a break to discuss the bald detectives we have known in our long lives together. Kojak comes to mind, also Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot, neither of whom anybody could mistake for anybody else. But after that, we run out of ideas - but there must be more.

Hercule Poirot

Kojak

Lois and I both have a tendency to mix characters up when we watch crime movies, and if the detective is bald, we have a greater chance of remembering who he is, and not mixing him up with the bad guys, which is often a help towards following the plot sensibly, as long as the bad guys are not also bald of course.

All the features that actually in real life are a bit problematic (being bald, or overweight, tattooed, scarred, etc.) suddenly become something that confused tv-viewers are very happy to latch on to,  to put it mildly.

A local man, Doug Glickmand, recently hit the headlines when he admitted to journalists that after being employed at his workplace for almost two years, he did not yet know the name of a single one of his colleagues (source: my go-to local news site, Onion News).

After nearly two years of employment with Ludnick Publishing, Doug Glickman literally does not know the name of a single one of his 11 colleagues, the 35-year-old department head admitted to journalists on Monday.

"There is this one guy I have been having lunch with for a year now, and I honestly have no idea what his first or last name is," Glickman said, speaking to pressmen in the employee break room, in a low whisper, so that two colleagues he referred to as "the Hispanic woman" and "the bald moustache guy" would be out of earshot and unable to hear him.

"I can get through Mondays by asking everyone: "Hey man, how was your weekend?". And after that  I usually just call everybody  "Buddy" or "Big Guy".

There is also this one really quiet assistant, that I always call ‘chief’, and then give him this little fake salute. That's probably as good as using his name, right? "

Glickman added that he had recently been on a few dates with a colleague whose number is in his mobile phone under "Girl with short hair and glasses sitting in the cubicle next to where the printer is."

My god, what madness! But Lois and I sympathise with Glickman in fact, no doubt about that. We have been trying for years to find out the name of our window cleaner, whom we have been using  for at least 10 years: he was also my late mother's window cleaner, and she died in 2011. Glickman's proposed "Big Guy" nickname, we couldn't use to our window cleaner, because he's actually a short, rather squat man and saying "Little Guy" to him or "Squat Guy" would not be welcome, that’s something we know for sure! So it's still a work in progress at the moment.

12:30 We have lunch and afterwards I go to bed and take a gigantic afternoon nap. I get up at 3 pm and we drive into the village and swing by the former "Bakery Stores" convenience store to buy tins of soup and some packets of biscuits (which we forgot to get yesterday at Sainsbury’s) in preparation for the visit of our elder daughter Alison, along with Ed and their 3 children, which starts tomorrow.

15:30 We go home again and relax with a cup of tea and a biscuit on the sofa.

We discuss the sad state of our village. The doctor’s surgery is now closed - the doctors have moved to a newly built medical centre located 5 miles away, on the other side of the town of Bishops Cleeve. The Kings Arms Pub is closed and no one knows if it will ever open again under new owners or not.

We heard yesterday that the local post office and affiliated news agent's are to close within the next 2-3 months - the owner has decided to retire and sell the building.

And finally, everyone says that the local pharmacy has gone to the dogs: people have lost confidence in the current staff allegedly, which is a little worrying to put it mildly - yikes!

Flashback to January: the local pub, the Kings Arms 

- closed then and unfortunately still closed today

the former doctor’s surgery that closed 3 months ago

16:00 Lois resumes making a special Easter cake, while I go out into the backyard. I take the winter covers off our 2 old scratched and worn patio tables, and I fish out the patio chairs from the shed at the bottom of the garden. It's relatively warm at the moment, and the weather girl says it’s not going to rain till Tuesday, so Lois and I hope it may be possible to eat outdoors for once at the weekend, which would be nice.

I take the winter covers off our 2 scratched and worn patio tables and

fish out the patio chairs from the shed at the bottom of the garden,

in case it will be warm enough to eat outdoors at the weekend

with Alison and family.

Lois has made a special Easter cake - yum yum!

18:00 We have dinner and spend the rest of the evening watching some television, the latest episode  of the 12th (and final) season of the Big Bang Theory sitcom is on. After tonight there will be only 6 episodes left – sob sob !!!!

A fun episode. Sheldon has been in the habit of routinely insulting his fellow leading physicists for years. Now that he needs their support  in his campaign to win the Nobel Prize, he discovers that they are not the least bit interested in helping him - no surprise there!

22:00 We go to bed - zzzzzzzzzz !!!!!

Danish translation

08:00 Lois og jeg står tidligt op – Dereks begravelse er bestemt til 12:00 på Gloucester-krematoriet. Derek var medlem af Lois’ sekt og døde for et par måneder siden efter at han havde lidt af demens i 2-3 år. Jeg tager mit 25-år gamle jakkesæt og mit mørke slips på. Jeg udprinter nogle kort over krematoriums omkringliggende området, som altid, for det tilfælde af, at gps-enheden af en eller en grund  ikke virker. Med andre ord, forbereder jeg mig på alle muligheder, herunder katastrofer, som altid ha ha! En række pile angiver ruten.

jeg har mit slips til begravelse på

Jeg udprinter nogle kort over området for det tilfælde af,

at gps-enheden af en eller en grund  ikke virker.

Kun ét lille problem – jeg føler mig så udmattet af en eller anden grund, at jeg i ramme alvor begynder at spekulere på, om det er sikkert for mig at køre bil, eller ej – yikes!

10:30 Men beslutningen (at gå for det eller blive herhjemme)  bliver taget ud af mine hænder – Lois opdager, 15 minutter før vi skal af sted, at hun igen har en maveproblem, så vi jeg sender en sms til vores ven, Mari-Ann, og beder hende om at videregive vores undskyldninger.

Pludselig har vi lidt fritid, og vi går i gang med at læse endnu flere sider af ”Dybt at falde”, Anna Grues krimiroman, der er vores U3A danske gruppes nuværende projekt.

”Dybt at falde” (1. række, nr 2 fra venstre) , Anna Grues krimiroman,

der er vores U3A danske gruppes nuværende projekt.

Vores (midlertidigt deprimerede) helt, reklamemanden Dan Sommerdahl, snakker med sin ven Fleming, en kriminalkommissær i det lokale politi, om et drab, der har fundet sted i det reklamebureau, hvor Dan arbejder (når han ikke er sygemeldt ha ha ha!):  en af bureauets rengøringsassistenter, Lilliana, er blevet garrotteret en aften, da hun var i gang med sit arbejde  i bureauets køkken.

Problemet er, at det selskab ”Skrubbekompagni”, der er ansvarligt for at sende rengøringsassistenter til bureauet, har ikke hørt om Lilliana. Så politiet kender engang ikke hendes efternavn eller alder – alt de ved er, at hun har født ”vaginalt” på ét eller andet tidspunkt for omkring 6-12 måneder siden.

Du godeste, sikke et vanvid!!! 

Med det samme begynder jeg at spekulere på, om hun måske var en ulovlig indvandrer, eller noget lignende. Men hvorfor ville nogen dræbe sådan én? Du godeste, sikke en skør verden vi lever i !!!!

Lois og jeg læser i formiddag endnu flere sider, og vi er meget glade for, at finde ud af, hvorfor Dan har den lejlighedsvisse øgenavn, ”den skaldede detektiv”. Lois og jeg har ikke den fjerneste anelse om, om Dan er verdens eneste skaldede detektiv – det er juryen stadig ude om.

balddetective: Dan viser sig at være en af de meget sjældne arter

- en skaldet detektiv: her ser vi hans hænder hvile på hovedet i nærheden

af hans pinlige ”måne”: men hvad er identiteten af de 2. par hænder

vi kan se, som også hviler på hovedet. Er de morderens hænder måske?

Men det er meget rart at læse baggrundhistorien  af Dans skaldethed, for at sige mildt. Hans ven Fleming, en krimikommisær i det lokale politi, har kendt Dan i årevis. Han siger, at, da Dan var en teenager, havde han tæt, lysebrunt hår: altid perfekt klippet i netop den frisure, der var mest hot lige på det tidspunkt. Nu var han nærmest kronraget. Ved det første tegn på en begyndende måne havde han simpelthen trebet trimmemaskinen og gjort kort proces.

Samtidig med, at han begynde at miste sit hår, var han flyttet sammen med Marianne, og blevet mere målbevidst og sat, og havde aldrig været fuld, skæv eller utro i årevis.

Lois og jeg tager en pause for at diskutere de skaldede detektiver, vi i vores lange liv har kendt. Kojak kommer i tankerne, også Agatha Christies Hercule Poirot. Derefter løber vi tørre for idéer.

Hercule Poirot

Kojak

Kojak og Poirot, vores yndlings-skaldede detektiver

Lois og jeg har begge to tendens til at blande figurer sammen, når vi ser krimifilm, og hvis detektiven er skaldet, har vi større chancer for at huske hvem han er, og ikke at blande ham sammen med de kriminelle, hvilket er nyttigt.

Alle de træk, der faktisk i det virkelig liv er lidt problematiske  (hvis man er skaldet, eller overvægtig, tatoveret, skrammet  osv), bliver pludselig  noget, som tv-seer er meget glade for, for at sige mildt.

En lokal mand, Doug Glickmand, ramte overskrifterne for nylig, da han indrømmede til journalister, at han, efter at have arbejdet på sin arbejdsplads i næsten 2 år, endnu ikke kendte navnet af nogle af sine kolleger (kilde: mit go-to lokale nyhedswebsted, Onion News).

Efter næsten to års ansættelse hos Ludnick Publishing kender Doug Glickman ikke bogstavelig talt navnet på en enkelt af hans 11 kolleger, indrømmede den 35-årige afdelingsleder til journalister mandag.

"Der er den her ene fyr, jeg har gået til frokost med i et år nu, og jeg har ærligt talt ingen anelse om, hvad hans for- eller efternavn er", hviskede Glickman fra medarbejderpauserummet, så to kolleger, han henviste til  som "den hispaniske kvinde" og "den skaldede overskæg-fyr", ikke kunne høre ham.

"Jeg kan komme igennem mandage ved at spørge alle: "Hej mand, hvordan var din weekend?”. Derefter holder jeg som regel bare til at kalde alle ”Buddy” eller" Big Guy ".

Der er også denne ene rigtig stille assistent, som jeg altid kalder  'chef' og så giv denne lille længe pseudo-hilsen til. Det er nok så godt som at bruge hans navn, ikke? "

Glickman tilføjede, at han for nylig havde været på et par dates med en kollega, hvis nummer står i sin mobiltelefon under "Pige med kort hår og briller, der sidder i aflukket ved siden af, hvor printeren er."

Du godeste, sikke et vanvid!  Men Lois og jeg sympatiserer faktisk med Glickman, ingen tvivl om det. Vi har i årevis forsøgt at finde ud af navnet af vores vinduespudser, som vi har kendt i mindst 10 år: han var også min afdøde mors vinduespudser, og hun døde i 2011. Glickmans forslåede ”Big Guy”-øgenavn, kunne vi ikke bruge foran vores vinduespudser, fordi han er en lavstammet fyr, og at sige ”Little Guy” til ham eller ”Squat Guy” ville ikke være velkommen, det ved vi med sikkerhed! Så det er en ”work in progress” for tiden.    

12:30 Vi spiser frokost og bagefter går jeg i seng for at tage en gigantisk eftermiddagslur. Jeg står op kl 15 og vi kører ind i landsbyen og smutter ind i den tidigere ”Bakery Stores”-nærbutik for at købe suppe og kiks til besøget af vores ældste datter Alison, sammen med Ed og deres 3 børn, der starter i morgen.

15:30 Vi kører hjem igen og slapper af med en kop te og en kiks i sofaen.

Vi diskuterer den triste tilstand af vores landsby. Lægehuset er nu lukket – lægerne er flyttet til et nybygget lægehus, der ligger 5 miles væk i den anden side af byen Bishops Cleeve. Kings Arms-pubben er lukket, og ingen ved, om den nogensinde vil åbne sig igen under nye ejere, eller ej. Det lokale postkontor og den samhængende bladhandlerforretning  skal lukkes indenfor de næste 2-3 måneder – ejeren har besluttet at gå på pension, og sælger bygningen. Og til sidst siger alle, at apoteket er helt til rotterne: dets nuværende personale virker udygtige og tager en masse fejl, hvilket er lidt bekymrende for at sige mildt – yikes!

Den lokale pub, Kings Arms – stadig lukket desværre

det gamle lægehus, der lukkede for 3 måneder siden

16:00 Lois fortsætter med at lave en speciel påskekage, mens jeg går ud i baghaven. Jeg tager vinteroverdækninger af vores 2 slidte terrassebord  og  graver terrassestole frem fra skuret i bunden af haven. Det er forholdsvis varmt for tiden, og vejrpigen siger, det ikke kommer til at regne inden mandag, så håber Lois og jeg på, at det kan være muligt at spise udendørs i weekenden  for en gangs skyld, hvilket ville være rart.

Jeg tager vinteroverdækningerne af vores 2 slidte terrassebord og

graver terrassestole frem fra skuret i bunden af haven,

for det tilfælde, det vil være varmt nok at spise udendørs i weekenden

sammen med Alison og hendes familie.

Lois er i gang med at lave en speciel påskekage – yum yum!

18:00 Vi spiser aftensmad og bruger resten af aftenen på at se lidt fjernsyn, det seneste afsnit af de 12. (og allersidste) sæson af Big Bang Theory-sitcommen. Efter i aften vil der være kun 6 afsnit tilbage – hulk hulk !!!!

Et morsomt afsnit. Sheldon har haft for vane i årevis rutinemæssigt at fornærme andre førende fysikere. Nu, hvor han har brug for deres støtte, i sin kampagne efter at vinde Nobel-prisen, opdager han, at de slet ikke er interessede for at hjælpe ham – ingen overraskelse der!

22:00 Vi går i seng – zzzzzzzzzz!!!!!