The Impecunious Mr Yates

In the Mid Eighties Mitch Douglas, in an effort to secure a further advance for his client wrote;

“as it happened yesterday, when Richard Yates tells me that he has lost 15 pounds and looks like a concentration camp victim because he has had to survive the past few weeks on two eggs mixed in a glass of milk, and that he was going to have to go back in the hospital simply to have food to eat…”

Richard Yates was also a mentally ill alcoholic, and a great writer to boot. He had very little success during his lifetime, and was almost forgotten about until recent years. He had a lot of bad luck; and was chronically lacking in the schmoozing skills required of a modern author.

I feel kinship with Yates regarding his inability to walk the walk and talk the talk. I found it impossible to use the buzz words that have come and gone during my working life; so I guess that’s why I never became a middle manager. And my current run of bad luck appears to be matching his Eighties nosedive.

The amplifier I sold last week was one of my oldest possessions. A piece of Eighties High End audio equipment, and it sold for a pittance. The money was to pay for basic things, a telephone bill, water rates and food. Your £64 a week does not really allow for extravagant things like running water.

After 5 days in transit the amplifier arrived at its Italian destination, broken. A capacitor had snapped. I consulted a friend who knows about these things, and he suggested Soldering the capacitor back on or buying a new one. Neither of which would be expensive. But my buyer had already got the thing fixed, and sent me a snotty e-mail demanding payment. I’m sure there is insurance associated with a package arriving damaged, but a small component working its way loose, that could have happened at any point on its journey.

So I will suffer the cost, which knocks a third off its sale price. I’ll put it down to bad luck. With my change, the telephone and water will get paid. I’ll say a prayer to the Patron Saint of bad luck, Richard Yates and hum a tune he may appreciate.


Brother can you spare a dime ?