Life in Hospital
It’s really quite boring in hospital, the only things I do is eat, shit and have physio. I do look forward to Esme and the boys visiting me but that only takes up about three hours each day. So all I’m left with are the papers Esme brings in for me and my thoughts, and these are getting less by the day. Although my long term memory is better than the short term memory. I have been trying to recall some of the many people I have met down the years and a couple sprang to mind.
The first was a coloured gentleman by the name of George Frith, now the main thing I recall about him was that he was good enough to play football and cricket for England. He was bought up an orphan in London by Catholic nuns and he was an Arsenal fan, so naturally he would become a friend of mine. I don’t recall when we first met, the memory not being what it was, but I do remember him writing a thesis on racial discrimination and the only other thing I remember about him was that he was struck down by some terrible disease or affliction. If you are still alive George it would be good to hear from you.
Another gentleman that came to mind was an American communist I met during the war in Burma by the name of Norman Plotkin. Unfortunately the only thing I can recall about Norman is that Esme and myself stayed with him in his appartment in Paris for a few days in 1951. He was there on some kind of study grant from the American government. The appartment that he lived in was an old brothel, apparently, after the war the municipal council of Paris, or whatever it was, closed all the known brothels down after the war and turned them into student accomodation. The last I heard of Norman was that he was living in the borough of Flushing, New York. Norman was around the same age as me, if not a little older so he may not be with us any longer, but if you are Norman fraternal greetings commrade, it would be nice to hear from you also.
I would like to say hello to an old friend of mine who is very much still with us, his name is Mustaq, I hope you are well old friend and if you are reading this get in touch.
It really is mind numbingly boring in here, can’t wait to get out, I’m thinking of forming an escape commitee, it’s either going to be a tunnel or sneaking out in a laundry basket. Keep the faith commrades.