Postcard from Outer Didsbury – 2
I’m back on a flight. It’s 11 o’clock at night which makes it June back in Manchester and this flight goes on longer than my attention span tenfold. A step up from Delivering Yellow Pages and more satisfying
I ran out of Fox’s Glacier Fruits days ago.
We are 1 1/2 from home and after changes, short flights and customs probably about 6 hours from a reunion. At this moment the thought has me welling up as though it were the final moments of the Champions League Final; it’s a blessing and a curse. I had to pause at customs to prevent the reunion looking like the backstage shots on America’s Gpt Talent
I would never make a politician, poker player or spy. My inner thoughts paint themselves across the eyes, mouth and non-verbal communication that I share with the world.
During a particularly fraught media meeting with a powerful (mmm I do like alliteration, puerile, petty, punctilious) mogul in charge of large budgets I kept getting nudges from a soon to be former executive. It wasn’t Bridge and this was not the cue we’d agreed. The mogul, whose charm range was Katie Hopkins to Angry Toddler suddenly had a fit of clarity.
“You look like you’re want to punch me.” He said “That’s very astute” was not the right reply and we left, presentation unopened.
I have learned. Being a dad has taught me to feign interest in a range of activities and sports and to rein in emotions and occasionally hide tiredness. Being a Didsbury Dad I have learned to show interest in all manner of shared cultural experiences and in a range of Japanese animations that make Rhubarb & Custard look slick.
Right now, after 7d ays away on the other side of the world with only Face Time for brief snatches I would watch anything to spend 10 minutes with Didsbury Son and for a sniff of the toddlers. Absence has made my heart fonder in a way I could not imagine. I never planned or expected this. But long after everyone else realised, it seems that not only have Didsbury Son, The Mighty Headed Boy and the Pearly Princess changed my life, they have changed me.
I saw this and felt almost 5’9″
The welcome I got at the airport made me realise that after “Daddy” shouted at full blast across Terminal 3 arrivals, the best phrase I had heard all week was,
“Ladies and Gentlemen – we have now arrived in Manchester”. – Bliss.