Robotic chameleon love

I should start this post by saying that I have never claimed to be normal and nor would I after all I am not delusional. There are a number of things that have recently made me reflect on life and I thought them worthy of a share.

The first was a recent visit which reminded me just how much the publican has taken over the man. I have written many times about my view on those of us who endure this trade and I remain convinced that my opinion has legs. On further reflection though I think that in my case there is something more to it, it is more than a means of hiding.

My chameleon like personality means that even I don’t know who Gav is, I have no idea what he likes or what he would do with spare time he is , in short, a stranger. What I do know, and I am acutely aware of when I am around old friends, is that publican Gav is his mask. Publican Gav has many of the skills that I don’t think Gav has, a gregarious personality is not something that you would ever associate with the Gav that I know.

Next on the list is a common mistake, I am NOT human. I am not just driven I am a machine but, like a machine, there is no end goal. Many people talk about holidays and when I will take my foot off the gas but the truth is that I can see neither event and it doesn’t concern me. My mission is to continue, to power through, to overcome the hurdles and to just keep on trucking, it always has been. Those who think that I have achieved a life goal by being in the pub misunderstand me or perhaps they are simply trying to humanise me. I love the pub and always aspired to be here but that does not make it some goal that I was working to or some achievement it is simply another fork in the road that I walk. Similarly, now that I am here, there is no plan, no end where I retire or slow down there is just another set of challenges and another ‘to do’ list.

I have good friends who worry about me burning out and I have others who know me well enough to know that it simply is not a possibility, like the terminator I will just keep on coming. I don’t have the pressures of a life behind this, what you see is all that there is so there is nothing to balance and therefore no stress when it doesn’t balance.

Finally, and I guess somewhat inevitably, there is my ‘status’ I am after all single. Again this is an area where friends think that they can help or offer advice and they all have a script in their mind. Let me be clear on this point, well as clear as I can be, if the only time that I hear the ‘love’ word is from my children and some random drunks at closing then I am happy, really truly I am. I have no need for company, companionship, loving, god or the Easter bunny they are all made up.

I guess that I am what I am, I take some getting used to and I am far from everyone’s cup of tea but it never hurt Marmite did it?

 

 

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Brewers, plumbers and weed grenades

Well as we enter June the panic is setting in again. I am very concerned that I still can’t take a step in the pub without seeing another job to do. This weekend I worked like a dog but, once again, I can’t really recall what I completed. The safe is now rebuilt and operational and the server case is up on the office wall so I now have somewhere to run the cables that I am putting in.

Bar lighting is fixed now and I took the opportunity to remove the flammable rubbish from around the lights. I now have a plan for pool table and machines and have sent one of the licence fees in for this. Further exploration has added to my understanding of the internal water features, it hasn’t helped just added to my knowledge. About three meter cubed of nature’s toughest ivy and brambles were hauled out of the newly discovered void before I realised that I had no means of disposing of them! Luckily my weed grenade* has cleared the adjacent plot so I have piled it there to dry out, next on the list is a garden incinerator.

Plumber tried to commission the heating system this weekend and it has turned into a significantly more expensive exercise than I had hoped. I guess there is no surprise there really, nothing in a pub is simple or cheap. This week’s commercial calls now include plumber and brewery before I get wound into accounts. One minor success was measuring up and gaining an understanding of what I need in terms of furniture. A good job done and, of course, entertaining for those watching me and Andrew pacing out space in his bar.

I picked up the old deeds from the solicitor this weekend and they are a delight. I have deeds back to 1875 when the pub was leased to a couple, well actually a widow and a chap. I know that the pub was in place before that and need to chase the history further back, one day. It does seem rather sad that my purchase is witnessed by a simple entry on land registry website, no italic script, wax seals or tapes in sight.

See what I mean? Doesn’t sound like much does it? But it has been non-stop and even after all of the physical work there was the weekly pile of paperwork to get through.

I did manage to take a break whilst on the little island and it was nice to enjoy the anonymity that I still have. I can sit and observe as Gav in a way that Gav from the Plough won’t find as easy. 

*nature is no match for my belligerent incompetence when it comes to weed control