Saturday, 19 August 2006

Sell Out

Weird times.

I got into work Friday to discover this on my desk…

…which tickled me no end.

I also learnt On Friday that I got the commercial that I was up for, I don’t want to jinx it by laying on loads of details but I will furnish you with more facts when I don’t feel so jittery about it but needless to say I am over the moon…and other such clichés. Unfortunately, Darren has not second-guessed the role; so to squash all rumours I will not be playing a hairy butt cheek, no matter what you may read on various Internet forums.

And then out of the blue I discover that my aunt has only a few days to live, I then get an email saying that she passed away at 9.30pm on the 17th August 2006. I had to phone up my dad (it was his sister, Daphne) to tell him the news; it was strange, my dad said: “You know me, I don’t cry, all the feelings just go somewhere.”

My thoughts and condolences are with the husband and family she leaves behind.


  1. That post was an emotional rollercoaster.


  2. I'd love to make sooooo many comments about that pic but it's not very tasteful as it was a bit of an emotional one. Anyways dan join mysapce then u can read my first blog lol. Take care Tom

  3. I'm so happy you got the part! YAY!

    Sorry to hear of your aunt's passing.

  4. Sorry to hear about your bereavement - it can be tough and my thoughts go to all concerned.

    Glad to hear the butt-cheek audition paid off. ;-) Obviously, you are going to playing Sunday Dad 2 taking his kid to a fast food restaurant for the latest round of healthy McDonald's adverts. Don't lie - I know it is true.

    Meanwhile, my neighbours are trying to poison me and they don't even have a web blog to which I can post spikey, confrontational comments in the transparent hope of directing traffic to my own site. No - I am slowly being poisoned by some kind of industrial solvent. If this is my last message here, you know that the vile vapours have caused me to breathe my last.

    Good luck with the advert,


  5. We have two events in our lives which momentarily stop the world, and make it revolve around us. Of course, they are our births and deaths.

    The unbelievable volume, the very great thing which is a human life, is far too important, too precious to imagine it being able to pass without proper celebrations.

    It is this enormous relevance of every life which makes it so eerie when someone slips away in the manner you've just described. I have seen families embroiled in such hatred--over the most petty of slights--that they have allowed their own parents and siblings to return to the earth without seeking any kind of reconciliation.

    Even in such cases, as we psychological experts point out to people all the time, the more violent the "hatred," the more passionate the attachment which was obviously present.

    It presents us with a "soft," kind of bizarre scenario when someone is allowed to pass on without fanfare. Of course there are innumerable situations which can produce innumerable kinds of "flat" responses to someone's death, but we are, by biological hardwiring, pressed to have had every life, and thus every death, be of monumental importance.

    This is, of course one way in which we assure our own place in "immortality," by being remembered and talked about after we've gone ahead.

    With all due respect to your grief, I have to point out that this is also the psychological instigation for streaking. So maybe there's a hairy butt cheek connection in here somewhere.

  6. Life's a funny one Dan. We hear happy news and then sad news so often. My condolences to you Dan - you were brave ringing your Dad and breaking the news. Bless all the family.

    Good luck with the new part too. I bet your aunt would've been so proud of you too!

    Men, of your Dad's generation often have a strange way of coping with grief. I really don't know where all that emotion gets trapped but I'm sure your Dad will deal with it in a way he does best. xxx

  7. That happened to me, getting a message that someone was dying, and then that they were dead, both retrieved the next day after the death. Stuff happens when you're doing other things. It's just the opposite of the lovelorn waiting by the phone while nothing happens.

    It feels like when something good finally happens, something which has preoccupied your mind for awhile, then something bad happens. And you wonder if it would have been different if you hadn't been so preoccupied on the first thing.

    Nothing to worry about with your Dad. His response indicates he does acknowledge what happened, even if you got his first shock reaction. The emotion does not get "trapped" any more than in someone who cries buckets. As long as he's not living as if it did not happen, he's ok. If he is younger than her, then he's known it would probably happen all his life. If they already lost their parents, he's been even more actutely aware of losing siblings since then.

    Take it easy, good sir.

  8. Congrats on the commercial part! Can't wait to see it...

    Sorry about your aunt.

    Take care --

  9. Wow. I am thrilled to hear that you got the commercial but so sad to hear of your family's loss. Your father is like my grandmother. She often told me that she wished she could cry.

  10. Where's anon? He/she/it has barfed on every other recent entry in this blog, while Daniel is probably grieving with family.

    C'mon anon, let's hear your "witty" comments on Daniel's aunt.

    C'mon coward

  11. What a roller coaster. Best wishes to you and your family.

  12. Dan, just had some bad news myself this afternoon. My Mum calls me to tell me that her cousin, whom I know very well, and is a good twenty years older than me, dies this morning at 3am, from what looks like a heart attack.


    I'm with your Dad on crying. After my brother passed on, I've considered grief second-hand; I have just found it difficult to cry. Yet when I watched a documentary on tv yesterday about how dancing bears were being maltreated in Turkey, with years of captivity and maltreatment under their belt, and how the World Organisation for Protection of Animals, or so was rescuing them at night (from gypsies); caring for them, and releasing them to the wild several months later, I cried inside, with a small tear or two hanging vestigially on my face.

    Maybe that's what your father does: he cries inside.

    Either way, cry away--if need be.

    My greatest condolences...


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