Serendipity reloaded and a communist in Mayfair

I have mentioned here in several occasions that I often come across with a name, event or character twice or thrice in the very same day, being the name, event or character unknown for me the day before. I call such happenings -casual or random, whatever, but mysterious- serendipities. I have also stated that I know that serendipity is a word with a different meaning.

Among the handful of peculiar location names around the lovely Richmond Hill and Park, is that of Twickenham. Yesterday, I strolled peacefully up and down Cholmondeley Walk and Water Lane, keep on across the Buccleugh Gardens and along the Petersham Meadow into the Nurseries and the Ham House up to the Eel Pie Island. (My juicy guide-book says Bogart and Hepburn shot a few scenes there in 1951 for The African Queen; I guess such deed would be possible no more today, with planes approaching closeby Heathrow every two minutes). And so, I strolled up and down and came across with the name of Twickenham, to which I did not pay much attention. Back in the tube, however, I learned that tickets for Lady Gaga's concert in London are at sale, and that the concert will be held at Twickenham Stadium on the 8th or 9th of September, don't remember... . The stadium, by the way, impoverishes the view from the Hill, and so does the Control Tower of Heathrow, I reckon.

A second serendipity came also yesterday from the river Thames. I had been reading recently about the "famous" Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race -Oxbridge- at the Thames, from Putney to Barnes Bridges. 4 miles and 374 yards and a record -Cambridge crew- of 16 minutes and 19 seconds from 1998. The boat race official web page is entertaining and has jewels like this photograph of Hugh Laurie, training, in 1980:

                                         Hugh Laurie, first face, pushing blades for Cambridge in 1980.

Everything new for me, everything, and I said, "that should be a lovely tour as well". Once again, the Evening Standard brought yesterday to my attention the fact that I am re-discovering America.

The opinion of Sarah Sands about the incident in the 158th race last Saturday is interesting and allows you pulling the thread and enjoy your time by further boozing from different sources the unique character of human nature. The reactions about the incident have been unanimous, I can see: Trenton Oldfield was "a rebel without a clue" and his anti-elite antics rudderless and rambling, at best. It surprises me the urgency of everybody in discussing whether or not Oldfield has any arguments to do so. I guess everyone seems to agree, at the end, that words are rather weak and useless and, thus, other methods shall be used providing the cause is fair. As Sands suggests, it is the re-edition of Emmeline Pankhurst vision: "deeds, not words". The path is dangerous, I feel, very dangerous and sad. Oldfield is just a fashionable moron, what else can I say? It is crystal clear.

Another version of the same stupidity and contradiction -but with a laid-back, totally bourgeois touch- I see in the photograph in the Evening of Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem, exiting Richard Caring's restaurant in Mayfair the other night. Caring is a billionaire and Bardem is, I guess, only a millionaire, but a so-called anti-capitalist and... Puff, who cares?...Be it. However, is that necessary to show up in Mayfair in a pair of dark trainers and a T-shirt? It is the world upside-down, a reverted tacky taste: a millionaire pretended to be chabacano*. Nothing new at all, anyhow, since the times Bertold Bretch used to wear bespoken tatters.

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* A young woman from the Philippines told me about the interesting association between this Spanish word ("vulgar, with no art") and the so-called language, derived from Spanish, and spoken by half-a-million in certain places of the Philippines and Malaysia.