It’s difficult to believe it’s over a year – March of 2007 in fact – since I last wrote on this web-log, for it seems just days. This is what happens when you reach my age – 113. But the older I get, the clearer I remember my boyhood and youth in Victorian and Edwardian England. It’s what I did yesterday, or even a few hours ago, that I forget.
Much has transpired since last I posted, for I’ve had to live in a manner I never thought possible. The fact is, I’m on the run from the police in the United States of America of all places. The reasons would take too long to explain in just one web-log posting, so over my next few postings I’ll perhaps reveal more.
I’ll simply say for now that it’s not easy being on the run from the police, particularly since I’m an old man of 113. Were I a young whipper-snapper of 75, I’d find it much easier. But at 113 it’s more difficult, if only because one needs to keep one’s body in fine shape when one is constantly having to evade the police, and a 113 year old body does creak so. However, I still work out in the gym, but only every second day, for my body needs 48 hours to recover. Boxing exercises are what I like, for I was once middleweight boxing champion of the British Army. This was in 1946, just after World War 2 ended.
But I never lost interest in the Sweet Science, so I’ve continued doing boxing exercises in gyms throughout the years since my last official fight in 1946. You will have deduced that I wasn’t champion for long, given I both won the title and retired in 1946. Why didn’t I continue fighting? you may ask. Well, in 1946 I was 51, and I was having to fight opponents 30 years younger, need I say more? My last opponent was Slugger McGee I still remember. He was a 21 year old corporal in the Irish Guards, over whom I eked out a points decision. I found this humiliating, for I would have whipped McGee to a pulp had I been his age. But Father Time is unforgiving.
I’m still quite impressive in the gym, though. I regularly punch the heavy bags, and skip rope. For sparring sessions, I use my men, Mikey, Squeaky and Freddy, for they, like me, are former British Army men, and learned to box there. They are still pretty good in the ring, for it’s as much as I can do to hold my own against them, since they are all still under forty. I’d like to spar with other men in the gym, for it gets boring always sparring with the same men. But the other men in the gyms I visit don’t seem interested. They do watch me, though, when I spar with Mikey, Squeaky and Freddy. However, this may only be because they don’t often see an old man like me wearing boxing gloves, and hitting the heavy bag and sparring.
Since this web-log is about the books I read and films I see, I wish to confirm that I still read books and watch films, but not as often as before, given my fraught circumstances. It’s just that I’m often not in the mood to read and watch films because my mind is taken up with just surviving. I and my men are having to rob banks and steal food from supermarkets, for to use our credit cards and ATM machines would be to reveal our whereabouts to the police. I have to tell you, who are reading this, that you, as a law-abiding citizen, take so much for granted. Wait till you’re outside the law, and you’ll understand.
Till next time.