Of Gods & Men & Other Things

Phew.  It has been a full and eventful day.

It began at the Auckland Museum at 7 this morning and finished at the Auckland Museum at 9 tonight.  Wasn't actually at the Museum all day though.  Been out and about and home and about in between.

Despite being at the same venue twice today, both meetings were for completely different events. 

This morning’s meeting was a fortnightly gathering of the Toastmaster club where we meet in the Columbus Café in the atrium foyer.  Always a nice way to start a Thursday these Toastmaster meetings.  There is always something uplifting to take away each time.  There was a theme on art at the meeting this morning.  Interesting that.  Seemed that theme continued throughout the day.

Tonight’s museum meeting was for the monthly LATE Smart Talk events with the overriding theme being Of Gods & Men.  More specifically tonight was all about Hermes & Communication.  The foreword reads:

• If we know anything about Hermes, it's that he is the Messenger god. On that basis alone, we could easily appoint him the patron of an era where a billion Facebook users send around eight billion messages a day, and where trillions of IP packets every second flash across the global network, each like a tiny digital envelope, carrying the address of its sender and recipient, and some fraction of an image or an idea.

Geddit?  A panel of discussion with a couple of hundred or so sitting and taking in whatever it was that was to take in.  Most of the hundred or so were imbibing in wine and food.  I had earlier dropped into the St Lukes foodhall for my food tonight – about a third of the cost and a third of a delight  but prevented me from being tempted to spend large at the museum on absolutely scrumptious plates of cuisine that I would dearly have preferred.  Oh well. 

The LATE series always has an ‘Object Highlight’ at these events.  Usually some form of ‘art’.  Tonight it was a pendant lampshade.  A symbol of the impact that technology and ever increasing level of communications has on all aspects of our life.  Geddit?  I didn’t.  But it was ... interesting.  I just don't geddit.

The point of my reviewing today was the fact that I had many mini-break downs throughout the day but still managed to hold it together.  The first mini-break down was during the Toastmaster meeting, the second to last being at the meeting tonight.  Something someone said at both meetings initiated a memory of Tony.  As soon as that happens the tears well up and I feel instantly nauseated and I want to sob out loud.  But on both occasions I managed to hold it in and let it pass.  Thus, I am getting better.  On both occasions I was fortunate to be tucked away in a corner where I did not need to panic about being observed.

But I am improving.  Well, so I thought until I came home tonight and once more, as happens every night, everything in the house reminds me of Tony.  At least at home I don’t have to stifle the sobs.  But I am getting better.  They last for shorter periods.

Aside and despite all of that, reflecting on today I realise what a diverse little world I live in.  No day is the same and every day I seem to be doing something completely different than the day before and in the company of people completely different than those I was with the day before.

Found myself out at St Kentigern College at mid-day.  Watching secondary school cross country.  I had a purpose to be there, someone to watch, some people to see.  But this was the site of another mini-break down.  Last time I walked those fields I walked them with Tony.  We were officiating at the secondary school duathlon champs.  Today it was just me. Sad.

Was interesting watching the races.  There were hundreds of teenagers there.  Stood at the finish line of the races and was bemused at the hissy fits many of the girls gave when finishing their races somewhat further down the field than they had imagined.  I watched with bemusement the mothers trying to pacifying their precious daughters who had clearly never raced in such big fields with such competition before and had never learnt the lesson of winners and losers.  I watched with bemusement in the knowledge that some of those girls throwing the hissy fits will probably never race cross country again.  Such was their distraught disappointment at not coming first, or second, or third, which they no doubt always had done at their own small school championships.  But this was another story.  This was the Auckland secondary school champs where the top of all the schools were.

Funnily enough, the boys’ competitions had just as many entrants but never saw a ‘hissy fit’ with one of them.  Seems the boys keep it more internal, or maybe they could handle the fact that they were beaten by better athletes.  There were no mothers fussing around those little darlings.

An interesting session of human observance.

Left there to meet an old friend who had told me about an interesting art exhibition at the Te Tuhi Art Gallery that is very near St Kentigern which he thought I would be interested in.  He is an artist and Tony and I had been to a various art exhibits with him over the years, so I went, and it was interesting in a weird sort of way.  It was called Destroyed World.  The whole theme was on man and his destruction all due to Kapitalism.  Yes, capitalism with a K.  It was ‘different’.  And fun.  But again, the last time I was in this gallery was with Tony.  It hurt.  Fortunately the gallery was literally blacked out, we look in the dark, so no one could see my mini-anguish.  Wiped away the tears before exiting and joining our friend for a coffee and chin-wag then waved him goodbye as he walked off on the footpath Tony and I last walked on together.

On the way home from there I had to call into a friend’s home.  He had lent me a book and it was long overdue to be returned.  Thought he would be at work, but he wasn’t – home sick with the annual bot that seems to be hitting many.  He too is an artist, be it a hobby artist, so I was given a showing of his latest works.  Weird.  But I didn't say so. 

It was then time to return home, to the house of cats and memories.  Both warming and welcoming.  And Fred.  Dear Fred.  One of Tony's oldest NZ friends. He came for a massage but I somehow think he really comes to make sure I am all OK and fine.  And that massage is just his rouse to be able to keep an eye on me.  He knows I am hurting.  Dear Fred.  Always feel good when Fred is around.  Isn't it nice that someone can do that to you all the time (rhetorical question). Never found anyone who doesn't like Fred.  Such a lovely man.  If I believed in God I would ask him to bless Fred more frequently.

It was then a case of rushing in a chore or two in between Fred and my evening sojourn to St Lukes food hall pre-museum activity.  No time to stop and rest – until sitting in the food hall – when I had another mini-melt down.  I was somewhat rapidly devouring the rather instant meal when I pondered how Tony and I would have walked through that food hall hundreds of times, holding hands – yet only once sat and ate something there – and it was in the last few months of his tenure.  Another mini-break down.  Oh well  …  wiped this lot of tears away and I went off to the museum  …  and more art … for the mind and eye…. and  to find out that Hermes, who I now know is the Messenger God probably has a Facebook page and must be on Twitter.  Must finish, wanna make Hermes a friend on my Facebook page while I am still thinking about it.  

And because he is the Messenger God, I can message him to get God to bless Fred.