New York Update.

So was I embarrassed when I woke up this morning and remembered the New York post? Slightly – enough to make me think of deleting it. But reason can be an unlikely rescuer sometimes. Reason told me that it was a statement of personal truth made bitterly in a bitter moment. Does that make it wrong?

Exaggerated it might have been, or at least subject to a large dose of creative licence. Polarised it certainly was, but bitter statements always are. It’s in the nature of bitterness to be blind to the periphery. So does that make it untrue? Not entirely. It stays, and it stays without apology because New York doesn’t give a tuppeny toss for how I see her anyway.

I could write volumes on what lay behind that post. It’s a story that started at least thirty years ago, if not further. It’s to do with finally becoming authentic and a whole load of other things as well.

I’m not going to write volumes; I’m going to have lunch, get my hair cut, and then set about pruning some shrubs in my little rural garden a bloody long way from New York. No doubt I’ll have the odd random thought about life – how it is so often about losing and learning, and I how I maintain the belief that there might still be some fun to be had out of it that doesn’t prostitute my principles or ideals.

You might even get a happy Jeffrey one of these days. There’s a thought.