One Year Later

Sometimes I look back at my old blogs. It's not self-indulgence (at least not to a greater extent than the ultimate indulgence of even writing a blog in the first place), but a desperate search for interesting things to say. I like to see what I was doing this time last year, and see if I can discern any amusing coincidences.

I suppose I hope that one day, I'll look at the entry from a year before, and I will have written:

"Hey Paul.

I buried some gold in the park. I can only dig it up after one year. You don't remember this, because you (I) had an operation to erase this from your brain for some reason.

Anyway, enjoy the gold.

Yours (You)
One Year Ago Paul

PS. I hope you're enjoying life under President Hilary Clinton. I'm sure she's doing a good job."

It's never usually that fruitful.

I had a look to see what I was doing a year ago today, and it was my long post about a trip to see Pro Wrestling NOAH in Coventry.

It's a bit sad, as one of the wrestlers we saw that night (and featured in the video at the end), Mistuharu Misawa died recently. It was during a match, which is quite unusual. The disproportionately huge amount of wrestler deaths are usually heart problems connected to drug use.

On a selfish level, I'm very glad to have seen him wrestle live. Anyway, it was a sad little coincidence.

It's difficult to know how to react to the death of a celebrity, especially to someone you feel a personal connection to. When Terry Wogan dies, it will be sad, but I'll be sharing the loss with millions of other people. Whereas, when someone like Misawa dies, it feels a little bit more personal. That's not to say that I wish Wogan was dead. I'd much rather he was alive.

(It would be painful in so many ways to see a Princess Diana-style mass funeral for Wogan)

Another coincidence from that entry of a year ago is that (as I'm sure you all know) the city of Coventry no longer exists in that form. It broke off into the sea, and is floating around the Northern Atlantic. It's rare for that to happen to a landlocked city, but that won't be any consolation to the people who live there.

They're attempting to rebrand themselves as New Atlantis, and the mayor has taken to carrying a trident. They've become totally self-sufficient, relying on renewable energy produced by burning Ikea furniture.

I wish them well.

I wonder what I'll be doing in a year's time...

Probably writing another one of these, ruing my prescience as Wogan's casket is paraded through the streets.

Or I'll be digging for gold again.