What a negative person I am. Since finishing my Hungarian course a week or two ago, ( and, no, I still can't hold an intelligent conversation, but one day, maybe, [but, let's face it, probably not]), I have had such good intentions, imagining writing posts, with lovely accompanying photographs, about how enjoyable it is to be free to roam Budapest again, looking at all the decorative details that make its streets neverendingly fascinating.
But did I feel impelled to spread my positivity?
I did not. Only irritation had the power to bring me back - a desire to complain, to improve my mood by whining about things that are so ubiquitous that they are maddening.
First among these is the perfectly nice but now over-hyped Kanneh-Mason family. Everywhere I look I see pictures and coverage of them and I have arrived somewhere well beyond the point at which I was even mildly interested in this smug set of parents who have trained up their children to play musical instruments very well and have built excellent connections in the PR machine.
To be scrupulously fair to the father, I should point out that it is my impression, based on very little, that it is mainly the Kanneh-Mason mother who is the driving force behind the multiple prodigy phenomenon here. Also I should add that I have nothing against them, beyond a desire not to have them shoved down my throat at every turn - newspaper , radio, magazine and newspaper coverage has been copious and, as far as I'm concerned we have now had more than enough. I don't want to be told anything about them ever again. None of them is Mozart, none is Beethoven. The posts of phenomenal prodigies were filled centuries ago and anything in that line now is just one more step toward the celebrification of everything.
And speaking of celebrification, could editors and media producers in general please, please, please, understand that, although the UK Prime Minister's father and sister are two of the most desperate attention seekers in the whole of creation, it doesn't mean any members of the public want to give them their attention. They may be hungry to place themselves in the limelight, but honestly, we have no appetite for them.
While we're about it, I would also prefer never to see another photograph of Mick Jagger.
That's all for now, but I'm sure this will be a continuing series (oh yes, and it goes without saying that I'm sick of this new virus. Természetesen, as the Hungarians might say, although I wouldn't be surprised at all if I've somehow got even that wrong, dratted but beautiful, fascinating language.)
PS I could be dishonest and pretend I don't want to hear any more about Me-Again Markle, but the truth is I am fascinated by this monstrous woman and her extraordinary capacity to find fault everywhere but in herself. It is such a joy to contemplate a character even less self-aware, even more self-admiring than oneself.
