The Imperceptible Immigrant

Sir Tom Stoppard

November 30, 2025 in Life as we know it | Permalink

Sir Tom Stoppard
1937 – 2025
RIP

Those who are no strangers to rambling the raggle-taggle byways of this eclectic journal will doubtless have observed that I am in the habit of marking the passing of those who have – through their words, works or actions – had a significant impact upon my life and consciousness. For example, when Brian Wilson passed away earlier this year I wrote the following:

“Whenever I post one of these messages lamenting the loss of one of the great figures of my (or the adjacent) generation(s) I do so with sadness but also with gratitude for their influence as ‘hero’ figures throughout my formative years. My aim is to compose something that captures their personal importance for me. Sometimes, however, no words can be found that are truly capable of expressing the extent of the loss”.

That being said, until yesterday I had not experienced (since starting this blog back in 2012) the passing of one of the truly paramount figures that I have followed, whose influence has been as hard to calculate as their loss is impossible to comprehend. Some of our heroes just feel as though they ought to be immortal. Since hearing the news yesterday of the death of Sir Tom Stoppard the only term that I can think of that comes close to capturing my feelings on the scale of the loss of is ‘devastated’.

I first encountered the works of Sir Tom Stoppard – England’s preeminent playwright for considerably more than half a century – back in the mid 1960s. Tom’s breakthrough play – ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead’ was premiered at the Edinburgh Fringe in 1966 and at the Old Vic in London in 1967. Faber and Faber published a playscript of the work in 1967 and I came across it in the senior school library at my grammar school when I joined the seniors back in 1968 or 1969.

I had never read anything like ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern‘ and it completely changed my then ingenuous view of what theatre could do and what it might be. Tom was a brilliant thinker and writer and had the facility of approaching difficult subjects in ways that gave the impression that the ideas concerned were much simpler than they in fact were. He dealt with intellectual topics with humour and a lightness of touch that carried audiences with him. Amongst his many awards his Oscar for the brilliant screenplay of the timeless ‘Shakespeare in Love’ was well deserved.

in addition to reading and attending performances of just about all of his plays, I have directed a number of them myself, including The Real Inspector Hound, Every Good Boy Deserves Favour and The Real Thing. I would have loved to have directed ‘Arcadia’ – perhaps his masterpiece.

I was fortunate enough to have met Sir Tom twice – at first night receptions for ‘Indian Ink’ and for ‘The Invention of Love’. On the second occasion – reinforcing the belief that one perhaps might best not meet one’s heroes – I embarrassed us both by declaring that I considered him to be a genius.

I am finding it really difficult to contemplate a world in which Sir Tom Stoppard is no longer living and working. A precious light has gone out.

Rest in peace Sir Tom.

Tags: Drama, Loss, Memories, RIP, Theatre, Tom Stoppard

Repeating myself

November 27, 2025 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

“There is no harm in repeating a good thing”

Plato

My last post to this forum was entitled ‘Making a Spectacle’- and related the tale of the efforts that I had been obliged to make throughout the year in order that I might make use of the shiny new pair of spectacles that I had purchased back at the top thereof.

Should the gentle reader have seen that post he or she will be aware that the loss of a tiny screw had rendered the glasses unusable – and that it somehow took four visits to the optometrist to obtain a replacement.

Subsequent to that posting I found myself looking back over my missives from this time last year. This I do from time to time – to remind myself of all the things that we have achieved as well as the various things that we have not. I am repeatedly reminded that my decision to continue blogging – even since so to do fell deeply out of fashion – has endowed us with a truly useful archive of arcana covering the last decade and a half.

Anyway… what should I find in the archive from the middle of December last year – but yet another post also entitled ‘Making a Spectacle‘. What are the odds?

Now, last December’s post was not on the subject of the state of repair of one of our many pairs of glasses (why does one require so many as one grows older?). It was more concerned with whether or not we could actually find the said item at the point at which we needed them (and indeed whether or not we were in fact already wearing them upon one or other of our heads!).

I feel that I should probably be apologising for the inevitable repetitions that seem to go along with advancing years. I am rather hoping that – since those surrounding us are also getting on a bit now – they in turn will be forgetting that we have already covered much of this ground – and treat each new adventure as though it were the first time.

Cheers!

Tags: ageing, Glasses, incompetence, Loss, Memory

Making a spectacle

November 16, 2025 in Life as we know it | Permalink

Back at the top of the year I found myself – for only the second time in my life – eligible for extended heath benefits… courtesy of the College by which I was then employed.

Those who are paying attention might wonder why I had not enjoyed this boon throughout the previous half decade of my unexpectedly lengthened working life. The simple truth is that I had to this point – like an idiot – repeatedly turned the offer down. No sooner was I finally equipped with the full set of benefits than the job rapidly followed their example and evaporated.

(I notice that one can – should one so wish – purchase a T-shirt bearing the apposite slogan – “I saw that…” – Karma).

Irregardless!…

Serving one final term at the College before being retired (again) I took the opportunity to avail myself of all of the benefits for which I qualified. I had some serious dental work done and – more relevant to the subject of this particular post – I purchased some new spectacles.

Now, it was not that I actually needed spectacles. Over the last decade or so my vision has slowly but surely improved to the point at which I really only wear glasses now for driving. I have several slightly cosmetically ratty but completely functional pairs which seem to meet my limited needs. Nonetheless, taking the opportunity to equip myself with some stylish new eyepieces seemed like a good idea…

…and very nice they were – for a couple of months. Then – one fine day – the right hand arm fell off. One of the little screws – apparently completely inadequate for the task for which it had been provided – had dropped out and, inevitably, disappeared.

I revisited the optometrist. Following an extensive rummage out at the back of the store the assistant returned and advised me that they would need to order a replacement screw – and that they would call me when it was in.

Several further months passed – as months do – and my phone remained ominously silent.

I revisited the optometrist – again. Following an extensive rummage… etc, etc… you probably get the drift. There was no record of my first visit having taken place and no replacement part.

Several months passed… yada, yada, yada… I revisited… etc, etc… no record of either of my previous visits!

How was this to end? Well, on my fourth visit a rather more senior assistant finally did the obvious thing… she found another pair of the same frames – extracted one of the screws and then restored my new glasses to a fully operational state.

Hoo – bloomin’ – rah, say I!

Tags: Glasses, Health, incompetence