No one gave us the answer to the big question – 10th March 1994

Jeez, it’s a strange and wondrous world.  What more can happen to a man in the mere space of one week?  Now seven days since last entry and I told of possibilities of fatherhood!  Well! 

In chronological order, Broni was into the forty days and I’d decided this was it so we came up with all sorts of wonderfully colourful names such as Moonbeast Bumflap Snot Nose but settled with Bubka Blue, Bubka being a member of that great band Deep Turtle, though I thought we’d better find out if the name Bubka had a meaning (like it could mean ‘man who milks cows’, not much of a name for a girl!)

Broni was in particularly nasty moods and I acted with little patience on occasion but how easy I forget.  Her cousin Piers was traversing cross country in search of garments for his trip to Pakistan though he had no luck!  He popped in for an overnight stay and we took him to the Piccolo Mondo for our favourite pizza and then to the movies.

While in the bar pre-hand Broni took off to the toilets and I chatted with Piers about jazz music – his forte!  At last, someone who could advise me on jazz.  When Broni came back we headed towards celluloid screens and she told me she’d started bleeding. Hmm.

We watched the film, Mrs Doubtfire, utter crap American trash, unconvincing performances and story with dubious moral ending (what bollocks thought I) and set off home where I talked to Piers with Broni quiet and pondering.  Piers went out to pick up his sleeping kit from his car and me and my baby had a misunderstanding which led to tears.  She told me this could be her period or worse still, a miscarriage.  I had neglected her in favour of looking after our guest and did feel upset.  She retired as I put Piers to bed with some John Zorn which I don’t think he was too keen on!

When I eventually came upstairs I found Bronwyn in tears and we comforted each other but I could not stem the flow and I had to let go too feeling the unbelievable sadness emanating from her soul.  But I felt that this wasn’t a miscarriage and that she was late due to stress at work and from moving house. On the Monday we went to the doctor who indicated that this was more likely.  I hope so too.  I’m comforted in the fact that I could be prepared for the birth and raising of my children someday (soon).

On the Monday afternoon, we watched a great movie called Fried Green Tomatoes which I must confess brought a tear to my eye (and many to Broni’s).  Tuesday, Broni dropped me in Poole on her way to work in Swanage, (with renewed ideas about causing herself less stress – how many times have I told her to cut down on her workload!) where I waited for the library to open.

With horrible coffee and sandwich I watched the world on its way to work and when in library looked at every single book before settling down to read the first part of Vanity of Doulouz (Kerouac again, friends!), what a great story it was too, dealing with his teenage years and commenting, even back then, on the horrendous advancement of car and it’s associated industry, plus noticing how people seem to saunter everywhere in no particular hurry (ie on their way to the car).  It was like the car had transformed everyone into strangely different people without them knowing and just accepting it.  There is much debate these days on the future of transport and despite cars doubling on the roads every few years, it looks to be a wasted industry.  How I wish we could do away with them.  I have been walking to and from Poole all week and it is such a good feeling but then I have the time at the moment.  Most normal days I would not, such a trap.

Well, after that I went to the physio at the hospital, a nice young lady, name of Kate, who prodded by bones, pulled and twisted, unsure of my problem.  I sat seven minutes on a machine that buzzed electricity into me, supposedly to confuse my brain that there was no pain there.  However, that afternoon was the most painful it had been!

Evening passed quiet but I had a fitful sleep complaining of stomach ache and sure enough, I puked up a mouthful in the morning after Broni went to work.  I went back to sleep and was awoke by Broni’s phone call at around 10.  Straight after I puked up the rest of last night’s tea, grape skins and all!  Feeling better I went back to bed and was next awake at twenty to two!  I watched a Jacke Chan movie with John and went back to bed again so tired was I.

Broni cared for me the rest of the evening and we soon fell asleep.  Long gone are the days of wakeness til two in the morning playing with each other under silky sheets, we work so hard and relax little at this stage but I’m eager to tidy things up here for a big relax in Oz when I get there.  I hope my baby can stand it.

And finally, today, Broni once again dropped me into Poole after the most ridiculous argument we had about slices of bread!  I have to tell you, dear reader, here and now I talk of arguments often but our life together is not so, we live in bliss and in love and our affection grows stronger every day.  Each argument is a lesson – but sometimes us pupils are unwilling to learn.

In the book I’m reading, Bukowski tells he enjoys a women’s company at first but soon finds her eccentricities annoying and becomes tired of her but he has little hope of lasting relationships and is unable to deal with problems rationally.  We know we can and our real care for each other will overcome any problems that may arise, never once have I considered walking away from the beautiful woman with whom I now share my life, not for anyone else, not for anything else, what possible reason could there be?

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I waited around Poole before my physio appointment drinking that shitty coffee again, this time reading Neal Cassady’s autobiography, more good reading.  Physio advised I may have a problem in one joint which leads to all the other problems so sent me to pick up a brace from upstairs.  On my way out I met long ago buddy Jeremy, whose pictures me and Broni were looking at only last week!  Last time I saw him was about five years ago and I didn’t really want to talk to him and I felt a bit uncomfortable today.  I told him of my plans but he didn’t seem particularly interested so I let him talk about himself.  He’s been married and divorced after three months, has a child with Vanessa H (from old school days even I remember, short blonde hair) but is living with another girl from Colehill who he was with, arm a-bandaged.  And his story depressed me for we were such good friends and now he seems to have a madness that seems to affect so many people. He told of fights and people coming to his house with baseball bats (this is how her arm was broke!) in search of his blood!  Surely this is madness?  Or mere childishness and oneupmanship. “I’m better than you”.

I feel like I have grown up but not grown old, these people seem to want to recreate their past unhappiness from childhood or teenage years, are they doomed, will they ever see their glory?  Life is so rich and varied, yet it is easy to get bogged down in it all.  I hope one day to look back on these words and be happy that I got myself out of that bog and stayed out of it!

Jeremy still spoke with the humour of old and I liked that but I think he lost his way with women somewhere, showing none of them much respect that I could see.  I wonder if he felt self-conscious telling me all this?  I think maybe when we were friends he looked up to me and often took my advice on things and telling me all this he could sense my disapproval?  It was a strange encounter and to be honest I’d prefer not to meet him again.  When I talk about the madness, I wonder what it is that gets into people.  Everyone seems to bitter and resentful.  Jeremy’s smiles were unconvincing of happiness.  Old Mark B has the same madness, aimless in life and hateful towards women and often others, for no reason what so ever.  Don’t they understand that respect has to be earned, both ways?  Maybe their lives would be happier with that kind of knowledge but with increasing age seems to come a closing of mind.  Fatty I think too, is affected by it.  Maybe I’m resented for being optimistic and hopeful for my future, I wish (I really do) that everyone could too.

Well, all this thought got put on paper, I’m glad.  Now I think I’ll walk out somewhere and write some poetry, it is a beautiful sunny day and my mind is alive once again with a million zillion thoughts.

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