My Immortal

Many years ago a friend of mine stated that rich people bequeath money, not for any philanthropic reason, but so that they will not be forgotten. I acknowledge that it is a sad inevitability that of the billions and billions who have lived on this planet, it is a relatively rare few whose names are remembered. I have often struggled with the notion of my relative anonymity in this existence. Visiting large and bustling cities often cements this feeling of being invisible. Perhaps we all need a "George Bailey"*-type revelation to re-acquaint ourselves with the effects that each of us has on our surroundings - without the idea of a financial gesture to establish our memory.

That said, it is by two ways that I am to be immortalized as of today.

Last night, I, and several members of my choir were part of a cd recording project for a "Hollywood produced concept album". Think electronica meshed with Glam Rock, and choral works. Yeah, I'm not so sure either - but an experience nonetheless.

The other immortalization is at the hands, or at least, upper arm, of Bond. Apparently he is having a tattoo re-worked where the central theme will be a woman surrounded by gambling accoutrements and alcohol. It seems the inspiration for this mythical woman is said to arise from me. She is to feature long brunette hair, cherry red lips and an ample bust. Bond declared, "Now who does that sound like?". To me, it sounds an awful lot like a porn star/fantasy woman, and only a loose reflection, nay caricature, of myself.

Don't mind me while I sneer cynically at the my immortalizations, and perhaps contemplate to whom I can make a bequest instead!


*It's a Wonderful Life.... of course!