Facebook - My personal pain

Facebook TWICE invited me to become friends with my dead daughter !

You know how when you log in to facebook it suggests people you may know and invites you to become friends. TWICE it put up my dead daughter Rebekah's profile and suggested I become a friends. Mr Z she has been DEAD FOR MORE THAN THREE YEARS !

I would love that story to go viral and expose the evil of social media but I doubt it will. Even if it did do you think anyone would care ?

I am coming up to three weeks since I stopped using Facebook. REMOTELY I am posting updates on my writing and music but I am not logging in.

In addition to the heartbreaking pain Mr Z has personally caused me....

• I do not like the new design of the site. Like all geeks it's a case of IF IT AINT BUST THEN TOTALLY DESTROY IT.
• I have become frustrated and angered by the repetitive rubbish people have been posting in these difficult times. Not to mention the fake and dangerous news published regarding corona virus.
• I have failed miserably to generate the support I need for the good causes I have been trying to operate. People are far too busy in their own little worlds. 

Life without Facebook is great but as I am coming towards publishing two books: MILTON DREAMS THE CITY THAT NEVER WAS and GETTING TO KNOW MY GRANDDAD I could use the help of social media to promote them.

But should I allow the evil of Facebook which has dishonoured my daughter and broken my heart to fail me yet again ?

This is what I have decided.

I am going to wait and see how many people read this blog. I would love it if my pain could go viral and punch, metaphorically, Mr Z square on the nose. I doubt he would apologise for what he has done but I would like him to know.

I am not going to hold my breath.

Pip's blog - the next chapter in my book,

This chapter begins with Pip's mother editing his previous log entry. In the next chapter which I will start writing later today she finds herself on one of her son's musical time travel excursions.

EDITORS NOTE

Did my son write that ?  Of course  he did but go back to what he wrote on Monday 17^th September and compare it with yesterday, Day Eleven of his blog, Thursday 27^th September 2017. I have not edited  single word of what he wrote yesterday.

I need to speak to my mother today. She is an accountant and manages my father’s fortune, she also sorts out the tax on my royalties, now she is going to need to take care of Pip’s money.

Ours is a bit of an odd family. My husband lives for his work. I love him, of course I do, but he lives in his own world and only lets each one of us into that world when he wants to. Three sons who sort of orbit round us. Two clever young men at university and one pure genius.

I am getting closer to Philip, Pip, at least I hope I am. Richard and Alex are friends but I would not say they are close. Could it be through Pip that all three become close.

So Pip what are you going to get up to today ?  I am going to do a lot of thinking today, I will also do a bit of research as I think I am going join you and become a vegan.

Day Eleven Thursday 27^th September 2017

“Good morning Pilot Officer Johnson, thanks for dropping by.”

“My pleasure Wing Commander.”

“I know you and your crew are not on ops today but you may like to stick around. We have a special guest coming to the base later today and I thought it would be nice if she presented you with your DFC.”

“Thank you Wing Commander.”

“Lighten up Pilot Officer, or may I call you Philip ?  It is not every Lancaster pilot in bomber command who has a medal pinned on their chest by The Forces Sweetheart.”

My crew were all still on the base, when I told them the news every one of them changed their plans. Was that to support me or was it to listen to the singing of Vera Lynn ?

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you Dickie.”  Flight Sergeant Richard (Dickie) Williams, the signaller on my aircraft.

“Perhaps we should take bets on how soon you make it to Flight Lieutenant.”

It wouldn’t be long, I knew that. Promotion was rapid, everything depended on how many lost their lives so dragging those left up the ladder of promotion. I’d make it all the way to Wing Commander if I could keep myself and my crew safe during our nightly raids. Life expectancy in Bomber Command was short.

“So what’s your favourite Vera Lynn song ?”

“I am not sure if I have one, I like them all. What about you ?”

“The White Cliffs Of Dover and Berkeley Square.”

“A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.” I started to sing the words.

“One day when this war is over I will find my very own nightingale.”

“As I bring us all in after a raid The White Cliffs Of Dover are a welcome symbol meaning that we are all safe. In my head I silently sing Vera’s song.”

“What will you do when the war is over Pip ?”

“I do not have any idea. Flying is all I know about, what else could I do ? What about you Dickie ?”

“When I am hitting the morse code key it’s like I am tapping out music. I think if I survive this war I would like to do something with music.”

“Who knows what will happen to any of us.”

The whole base was dancing with excitement as we all awaited with excitement Vera Lynn spending time with us.

“How old are you Pilot Officer ?”

“Twenty Mam.”

“Mam !  The name is Vera.”

Was I really in the presence of The Forces Sweetheart ? Was she really speaking to me ?

“Pilot Officer I cannot tell you how proud it makes me feel to be here presenting this medal to a hero, a real hero.”

She pinned the Distinguished Flying Cross onto my uniform. Vera Lynn, The Forces Sweetheart, then kissed me on the cheek. She really did.

“This is for you Pilot Officer or may I call you Pip ?”

She put something into my hand. I thanked her, put in my pocket and saluted.

Back now at home in 2017 I took it out of my pocked and looked at the gift. A photograph of Vera Lynn. On the back she had written: Pilot Officer Johnson THANK YOU for letting me present you with The Distinguished Flying Cross. The whole country thanks you. It was signed Vera.

Now one hundred years old I wonder if Dame Vera Lynn remembers giving me that photograph. I think she does.

The next chapter

The next chapter in my story

Day Eleven Thursday 27^th September 2017

Yesterday was a good day. What will today be like ?  You may think I am a bit out of my mind but today I actually want to go to school. I can not remember ever feeling like this before, not since I was a pant-wetting little kid. So let me tell you how my day is starting then I will go to school and report back here on the blog at the end of the day.

Two e-mail to start my day two e-mails. One yesterday was unusual, do I know two people who would want to write to me. Both hinted that I was going to have a good day. Which to open first. I decided to try the one from YouTube.

Dear Mr Johnson

Your videos posted yesterday achieved a record viewing. Income from advertising is £1,219.34p.

Can you please confirm your bank account details ahead of payout.

Congratulations

Wow !  How many days like that before I can but myself an Aston Martin ? When I get my Aston Trickie Dickie you will not be having a go in it.

e-mail number two. Boring Brother Richard, dare I open that ? The subject looked encouraging and Alex’s e-mail yesterday was kind. Perhaps I should see what Richard wanted to say. I was nervous but I would be brave.

Hi there Pip – good morning to you.

I am your older brother but right now YOU are my Big Brother as I am looking up to you. In one hundred years time nobody will have heard of Richard Johnson, sociology student at The University Of The West Of England but everyone will know Pip Diamond.

Granddad has asked me to do something. He wants me to explain sociologically how music reflects the age in which it is written. He has asked me to concentrate on what he is calling The Vinyl Years. When I come to writing my Phd I may make that the subject of my thesis.

Love your YouTube videos. When are you going to record on vinyl ?

Richard

PS: See you Sunday.

See you Sunday ?  That was last week. What is sociology ?

Another good start to the day. There was no smell of bacon cooking. I decided to have some breakfast before school.

Mum was eating toast and drinking coffee. “It’s sunflower spread on the toast and I do not take milk in my coffee,” she smiled. “What are you up to today ?”

“I am going to school of course.”

She smiled.

I poured a bowl of cereal and used a spoon.

“Why have you become a vegan ?”

“It just feels the right thing to do.”

“Does going to school feel the right thing to do ?”

“It does today.”

“What classes do you have today ?”

“English.”

“What else ?”

“Not sure, I’ll find out when I get there.”

I wanted to put a notice on my back: Please leave me alone. The boys did leave me alone but the girls followed me. I ignored the remarks about flowers in my hair but the money I had just made on YouTube were all about flowers in my hair. I liked yesterday’s music, I actually liked it more than my traditional rock and roll.

“I trust everyone has completed their assignments, Mr D C Wild said. He said it looking directly at me.

I obliged with a gentle nod.

“Poetry,” he continued, “ should not be read but spoken and spoken from the heart.

Some girl put her hand up. She was in my class but I could not remember her name.

“Which poem have you ready in your heart Jenny ?”

So that was her name, Jenny.

“It’s called High Flight Mr Wild, written by John Gillespie Magee.”

“I know it, let’s see if you know it.”

She stood up:

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth - And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; - Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth - Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things - You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there………

She fumbled. Her face went red in the face.

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there - High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there………

Mr Wilde came to her aid:

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there - I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air - Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

She took over again:

Where never lark, or even eagle flew – And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod – The high untrespassed sanctity of space – Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

“And he did touch the face of God,” Wild said. “Aged only twenty-one he was killed in an accidental mid-air collision. I think you should share that poem with us all again.

This time she read it word perfect.

Twenty-one years old. My brother Richard was twenty-one years old.

“So what about our very own rock and roll king ? I see you have brought a guitar with you, are you planning to sing us a rock and roll poem then ?”

“No. In our last lesson we had the poem Silver, all about moonlight. I have a poem today all about the moon. I can speak it if that is what you would prefer but I would prefer to sing the words.”

“What is it called ?”

“Moonshadow by Cat Stevens.”

“Which would you prefer class ?  Recited or sung ?”

The wishes of the class were unanimous.

“Moonshadow by Cat Stevens,”  I said.

Oh, I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moon shadow, moonshadow - Leaping and hopping on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land - Oh if I ever lose my hands, Oh if I won't have to work no more - And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry - Yes if I ever lose my eyes, Oh if I won't have to cry no more

I closed my eyes as I sand the words. The poem, the music and I became one.

Oh, I'm being followed by a moonshadow, moon shadow, moonshadow - Leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my legs, I won't moan, and I won't beg - Yes if I ever lose my legs, Oh if I won't have to walk no more - And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, Oh if I won't have to talk - Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light - Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night

Moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

“Get your phones out, Pip sing that again. Everyone film him.”

“We are not allowed phones in school Mr Wild.”

“Then I’ll film it. Sing again Pip, sing again.”

And I did sing again. That became Pip Diamond’s sixth YouTube video.

There were other poems from other student assignments. At the end of the class Mr Wild started a discussion to decide which was the best poem. People favoured Cat Steven’s Moonshadow but they were wrong and I explained why they were picking the wrong poem. High Flight by twenty-one year old John Gillespie Magee. I had heard it only twice as Jenny had spoken it but I knew it, every word of it.

I stood up and shared the poem for a third time before saying, “That is the best poem we have heard today.”

“Are you going to write some music and sing it ?” Someone asked.

“No, to add music would take away its beauty and it’s sadness.”

“I think I have underestimated you Philip Johnson,” Mr Wild said.

As for the rest of the day I do not remember much about it but it was a good day and I am pleased to have been a part of it. Now for tomorrow.

Feeding my addiction

My addiction continues. On Sunday I wrote another 1,875 words for my new book.

Pip tells the story in his blog. he tells the story of another time travel adventure with his rock and roll star granddad - Trickie Dickie.

Day Ten Wednesday 26^th September 2017

Yuk ! I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the house. It was half past five. My Dad eats bacon sandwiches, what was he doing cooking bacon at half past five ? My Dad is a doctor, he spends his day saving lives. How could he start his day cooking and eating a life someone else has killed ? I am a vegan.

Now I am awake I am writing the blog. The first bit.

You know I am not clever. I am not smart, I am not smart enough to make a smart phone work. Besides smart phones are banned at school, smart phones are banned at school on the days I do not bunk off. I don’t think that Trickie Dickie uses a smart phone but I bet The Brothers Boring do.

I don’t use social media. I know people would poke fun at things I wrote if I did. I do use YouTube, I didn’t use it a lot but now I do use it now to listen to music. I do have an e-mail – pjohnson76349@gmail.com but nobody ever send me one. I had one this morning.

Hi Bro

I know we are not close, not friends as brothers should be and I know you do not even like me but I just had to send you this.

I just loved your guitar playing last Sunday, OMG you were amazing. I have been telling all my friends about my talented younger brother. Now I can show them your three video’s on YouTube – The Amazing Guitar of Pip Diamond. Where did you find that car to film them ?

Pip Diamond you and your guitar are so special.

Keep rocking…

Alex

What video’s ?  I know what video’s but how did they get on YouTube ?  Who put them there on YouTube ? When did Trickie Dickie upload them ? I took a look. It was not difficult to search Pip Diamond and guitar.

There were three video’s, all had been uploaded yesterday. THREE STEPS TO HEAVEN had already received 34,621 views. GROOVY KIND OF LOVE had 72,491 views. ORANGE BLOSSOM had 152,988. All were increasing in number as I flicked from one to another.

Thank you Big Brother Alex for telling me about them, without your e-mail I wouldn’t have known.

What am I going to do today ? I am not going downstairs until Dad has gone to work and the stink of his bacon sandwich has gone with him. I will write what I did today this evening. I think I will probably go to school but I am going to go early, I do not want to be mobbed by people as I go in.

I went early and now at the end of today I can write what happened.

As I arrived WAS was getting out of his car.

“Pip, what are you doing here ?”

“Coming to school Mr Simson.”

“Why ?”

“That is what I am supposed to do Mr Simson, isn’t it ?”

“But your Granddad wants you, he phoned me at home before I left and said if by any chance you turned up at school I was to tell you to go over to his house as quickly as you could.”

Dickie had WAS’s home phone number ? So the two had arranged for me to bunk off school again.

Pappy Newman drove into the staff car park in his knackered old Ford Focus,

“Ah Mr Newman, can you please do me a favour ? Can you drive Pip over to his grandfather’s home ?  Save him having to use the ‘bus.”

“Of course Mr Simson. Jump in Pip.”

This was crazy, utterly crazy. Headmaster Simson telling Teacher Pappy Newman to help me bunk off school !

“You are not a lot of good at Geography are you Pip ?” Pappy asked once we were on our way.

“I aint much good at anything Mr Newman.”

“I would not say that but I would say Geography is not your strongest talent Pip. Do you know how many countries there are in the world ?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“There are one hundred and ninety five countries in The United Nations. Pip, one day you and your guitar will be a sensation in every one hundred and ninety-five of them of them.”

“Will I ?”

“You will and so it would be a good idea if you knew where they all are.”

It was Nan who met me. Nan ?  I have kind of got used to calling her husband Dickie but would I ever manage to call my Mum’s Mum Ruby ?

“So you are back from Barbados ?”

“I haven’t been to Barbados.”

“Africa then ?”

“I haven’t been to Africa.”

“Where have you been ?”

“Don’t I get a kiss from my Grandson ?”

I did give her a peck on the cheek. Dickie came into the hall.

“As you can see Ruby is back home. She has been a very busy lady, she’s been to Thailand and to San Francisco.”

“Don’t forget Sheffield.”

“Ah yes, The Steel City. Very important Sheffield.”

“And now I am coming with you both on another journey this morning,” she smiled.

“Are we going in the Aston ?” I asked.”

No reply.

I looked at Ruth, was that really my Nan ? What was she wearing ? And what had she done to her hair !

“That’s a bit different to a DA,” Dickie laughed.

Never mind her hair, mine was down to my shoulders. Why did I have coloured beads around my neck ? Most certainly my hair was no longer a duck’s arse.  Not a duck anywhere in sight but there were a lot of arses, some people obviously thought it was too hot and so had taken all their clothes off ! Ruby, Dickie PLEASE keep your clothes on. Pip Diamond had every intention of remaining fully clothed. This crazy costume would be super glued to my skin.

“Who are these people ?”

“Who are they ? When are they ? We are in a place called Bethel in New York State America Ruby said.

Dickie continued. “Musically and socially this is one of the most famous places there ever will be.”

“We are at Woodstock,” Ruby said. “There are half a million people here.”

Why have some of them taken off their clothes ?  I wanted to ask the question but did not want to know the answer. Instead I said, ”Where have they all come from ?”

“All over the country to be here for a music festival. This is August 1969, Wednesday 16^th August 1969. Then organisers expected thirty thousand to turn up, half a million are here. Here in peace and in love.”

Dickie made a fist, lifted two fingers up out of the fist and said, “Peace and love.”

Around us hundreds copied him.

“Half a million people,” Dickie said again. “And not a single fight, nobody was injured at all during the three days. Just peace and love.”

“There’s a funny smell.” I said.

“For a teenager Pip you are very naive. That is week, pop, whacky-backy, cannabis !”

“Ah !” So that was the drugs bit. I could see the sex bit. All around me even though we were away from the stage I could hear the rock and roll.”

“Time to move on I am afraid,” Dickie said. “Time to bid farewell to Woodstock.”

“I was there last week,” Ruby explained, “in 2017, but now we are going to San Francisco fifty years earlier in The Summer Of Love.”

“You can hold on to your clothes, your beads and your hair. If you don’t you will look out of place.”

I liked having long hair even if it did keep blowing in my face. Others had theirs tied with a band. Ruby produces something and placed it round my forehead.

“Welcome to San Francisco, The City By The Bay. Welcome to The Summer Of Love. Welcome to the most famous bridge in the world.”

I wish I had paid a little more attention to Pappy Newman’s Geography lessons.

“To your right Pip is the Pacific Ocean. To your right is San Francisco Bay. Over there is the prison island of Alcatraz. Look to the shore, look up above the buildings to the hills. At the top is Golden Gate Park or sometimes called Hippie Park. That is where we are going ?”

“How are we going to get there ?” I asked.

“We are going to walk,” Dickie explained. “We are going to walk !”

We walked.

“This is one of the biggest city parks in the world.”

There were people everywhere but not as tightly packed as they had been in the other place. Some of them wore clothes just like the ones we were wearing, others were naked. I started to no longer notice who was clothed and who was unclothed. It didn’t matter.

I have absolutely no idea at all where they came from but both Dickie and I had guitars, six string acoustic guitars. Dickie began to strum. I had not heard the song before but quickly picked it up and joined in.

All the leaves are brown - And the sky is grey - I've been for a walk - On a winter's day - I'd be safe and warm - If I was in L.A.  California dreamin' - On such a winter's day

I am not a clever person, you all know that, but back in Woodstock and here now in Golden Gate Park I thought I had a little hint about the song and what everything was about.

Stopped into a church - I passed along the way - Well, I got down on my knees - And I pretend to pray - You know the preacher like the cold - He knows I'm gonna stay - California dreamin' - On such a winter's day

It was gentle, it was not the fired up rock and roll I have become used to playing and singing but I loved it.

All the leaves are brown - And the sky is grey

Very soon people started to gather round us and listen to the music. One girl came towards me, she took a flower which she was wearing in her hair. She pushed the stem into the band around my own hair. She then went to sit back down again.

The music changed.

If you're going to San Francisco - Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair - If you're going to San Francisco - You're gonna meet some gentle people there

I had never heard the song before but I instantly knew every word.

For those who come to San Francisco - Summertime will be a love-in there - In the streets of San Francisco - Gentle people with flowers in their hair

Dickie and I played together. The girl got up again and this time added two more flowers to my hairband. I could smell them.

All across the nation - Such a strange vibration - People in motion - There's a whole generation - With a new explanation - People in motion - People in motion

Ruth had some bells, small bells on a string. She started to dance slowly among the people. The music changed again.

Drop your silver in my tambourine - Help a poor man fill his pretty dream - Give me pennies, I'll take anything - Now listen while I play - My green tambourine

I did not learn the song, again I just knew it.

Again Watch the jingle jangle start to chime - Reflections of the music that is mine - When you toss a coin you'll hear it sing - Now listen while I play - My green tambourine

This was beautiful. Beautiful music and beautiful people.

As I explained before, I completely stopped noticing in our growing audience who was wearing clothes and who was not.

For those who come to San Francisco - Summertime will be a love-in there

And then in an instant the music ceased. The people were gone. Our clothes had changed. We were hoke again.

“Dickie I need to go to school tomorrow, I can not bunk off again. I must go to school. I have an assignment to do for Mr Wild and I have to hand it in at his English class tomorrow.”

He thought for a moment. “Fair enough but Ruby and I need on Friday. Friday is very important. You go and do your English homework if you must but we have a very important journey to undertake on Friday.”

Homework !  Does nobody know that in Year Eleven we do not have homework, we have assignments !

So here I am again in my room writing my blog. I am trying to get my head round what happened today and am trying to get the music of today out of my head. I have completed my assignment for Mr Wild, I hope he will like it. Now I’ll check how many people have watched my three YouTube video’s during the day.

I DO NOT HAVE THREE YOUTUBE VIDEO’S ANY LONGER !  I HAVE FIVE !

Now seriously, how on earth did two more video’s get added. I watched them both then pinched myself hard as I tried to stop dreaming. I was NOT dreaming. I was singing California Dreaming !

And there was then fifth video also in San Francisco. There was that girl putting flowers in my hair. My hair ?  No it is back to normal, no flowers.

Both new video’s had only been on YouTube for a few hours but both had received more than one million hits !