I had a decidedly strange call-out last night in South Kensington. I frequently work on Sundays as this allows me to take Saturdays off for visits to the local synagogue and Tottenham Hotspur. So there I was on Sunday evening at this block of flats in South Kensington all prepared for a simple fuse-box repair. The flat to which I was called out was full of artistic sculpture lovers. They invited me to feel a modern piece in the dark and then asked for my assessment; they clearly thought I was someone else. Gott in Himmel, the British middle-class never cease to amaze me.
People still ask me: do I feel German or British? I have had a British passport for many years now but I do not feel British. I feel Jewish, particularly on Saturdays, but most of the time I feel English. I was only too pleased to leave Germany in 1938 and rarely feel German. I miss certain things of course: pumpernickel, good manners and decent white wine. Black Tower? Please, do me a favour!
I sometimes miss my wife; she left me 10 years ago to grow oranges in Israel. Not for me. Who needs the desert?
The London Electricity Board have been good to me and when I retire soon, I hope to have sufficient pension to have a happy and fulfilled retirement tending my allotment, seeing the football and visiting The National Gallery in Trafalgar Square from time to time. Please do not tell my fellow electricians about my interest in art; they would not understand.