Calling all deaf Britons! It’s 4:30 am here in London, and I can’t
sleep. So I turn on the TV, and what do I find? (You are bearing in mind
that this is the land of 5, count ’em, five, TV channels, not a
gazillion-five, as at home.) There is no captioned programming here that
I know anything about, but now I’ve cracked the code of how deaf people
are supposed to get information in this country: STAY UP LATE! All the
shows on at 4 am–gardening, antiques roadshow, cash in the attic,
etc–have itty-bitty interpreters at the bottom of the screen. But ONLY
AT FOUR IN THE MORNING!
As we say, over and over again, there’ll always be an England. . . .
soon ending at the Courtauld Gallery. Only 12 paintings (for a 5-pound
entry fee; hmmm, that’s nearly a dollar to see each one), and though I’m
interested in the Fauves, this didn’t do much for me. Sort of like a
psychedelic version of Monet (other paintings are his interpretation of
Monet-like views of the Thames). Fortunately, I was able to squeeze a
gallery visit in during a spare 20 minutes before I had to meet my hosts
at Kings College, where I gave a lecture this afternoon. Very glad I
didn’t make a special trip!