Unspeakable Acts

When I was younger I remember people talking about the Berlin Wall. About what life was like on the other side and how people would peer at it and the view of East Germany affordable through the Brandenburg Gate. To be honest it might not have been the Brandenburg Gate. It might have been another gate ,or indeed, a fence. Possibly a hotel window. I’m not sure of the facts and I’m not interested enough in them to check it up before I start writing. That in itself is disgraceful and I should be hanging my head in shame but I will save that for greater embarrassments

The point is you could get glimpses of this other world and speculate about it but few wanted to go and live in what was conceived as its alien and severe culture. There are areas of cities where many do not wish to tread so alien are their streets, and patterns of thought and subjects too primitive to air in polite society. . I write what might be considered a family friendly Blog which can be read by all ages, and those I follow also do the same so I must warn you that I am possibly about to stray over the boundary into the semi lit world where tasteful people fear to tread. If you don’t want to read on stop now. OK you didn’t stop, and nor would I  but at least I’ve given the statutory warning regarding possible violations of taste.

When you are young your body works its way smoothly through its daily rituals leaving your imagination and dreams to go where they wish without a great awareness of the work done below the neck to make this freedom possible. The liver keeps livering, the kidney kidneying and the heart pumps loads of that red stuff round the piping system to keep everything fresh and dandy.

Leading the busy focused life I do I started thinking about my toes the other day. I have always been fond of my feet and respected the way they got me from place to place without complaint and would lie silently on the bed at the other end of my body waiting for me to use them again if I wanted to. You’ve got to love devotion however it appears to you. I decided to wiggle my toes and no sooner had the thought occurred then they began wiggling. There was no delay and although I tried several times the reaction occurred almost before I had thought of it. Bloody amazing if you come to think of it.

However, life being what it is, with passing time, some things don’t continue to work as smoothly as they might, leading to moments of unease or embarrassment. I am quite fond of food. I like it. Alright, I’m a bloody glutton and stuffing my face with anything available is a pleasure I find hard to control. All seems fine in the mouth and throat department. They chew and swallow without comment but the stomach is another matter.

I do get indigestion but more seriously I can get an excess of wind, which might be natures way of suggesting I lay orf the burgers. Whose to say. Anyway, I am rambling. This wind seeks to leave the body and join its chums pushing the clouds around the sky and generally causing mischief. All well and good. However things being what they are it does not always leave silently and sometimes when it does a certain odour reveals the secrets of your wonky digestion. Even so, if you are on your own in the middle of nowhere this is not a calamity.

It so happened that I was standing in a train on the underground, ( subway) holding onto a pillar by the doors. Behind me were a group of about seven schoolboys chattering away about nothing. The train lurched slightly and in steadying myself I noticed, to my horror, that there had been an involuntary escapage of wind from the digestion department.

I froze briefly and became more than ordinarily interested in an advertisement for dish washer detergent. “You’ve farted Wayne” pipped up a voice from behind me. “No I haven’t” “Well it wasn’t me” said another voice and a brief cycle of accusations and denials spread through the little group. Boys being boys, are given to accusations and denials, and sometimes do not own up to things they’ve done but there was something in the voices which told everyone that they were all not guilty of the crime. I felt their eyes move round the compartment and settle on the rounded middle age back of some man who might well have been me. That advertisement really was very interesting I thought desperately. ” A Shine that Sparkles like Diamonds” Who would have thought it.

A better man than me might have apologised to the crowded carriage but I admit I lost my nerve and longed for the next stop to appear. Now, indeed, seemed a good opportunity to hang my head in shame.