I spent the weekend entertained by the amazing Jim Jeffries (get on youtube and give him a look). One of his rants rang true with a previous post, over praise. I won’t recount Jim’s view but in essence we agree. There are two people in life there are winners and there are losers. An additional pearl of wisdom was that “if you don’t find out what you’re shit at, you’ll never know what you’re good at”. I have long espoused the view that we shouldn’t shy away from failure, it happens get over it. Geeks don’t win football matches and footballers don’t write software. If we keep telling our kids that it’s ‘the taking part’ that counts then our software will be written with two fingers by jocks. For those that like their sports then imagine IT geeks in formula league or whatever it’s called.
I have regular conversations with my sis and friends that revolve around the future of my love life. I think these conversations miss the fact that I am from a generation where there were such things as losers. I understand engineering, I have a good understanding of law and I make a pretty successful publican. I know my strengths, but I also know my weaknesses. Give me an engine and I can rebuild it, car or train won’t start? I can fix it. Lock me in a champagne warehouse with twenty frustrated supermodels and I will come out having solved their relationship issues and fixed the light.
Why is this an area where people think you have to keep trying to succeed. If I take my car to the garage and ten miles after collecting it it catches fire would I take it back there. Imagine that you plumb in the washing machine and it floods the house, plumber next time or give it another go? I can’t think of a subject where repeated, abject failure is seen as a reason to plough on. If you fail an exam you get one resit. If your partner builds an extension and it collapses you won’t let him try again. So why multiple marriages, give it a go and if you don’t come first try another subject.
I make a good ‘uncle’ a good ‘bro’ and a good confident. But when it comes to relationships I’m like a colour blind sparky. I’ve burnt a good few houses down now, its time to retire much safer for everyone.
I met up with Pete and Barb on Sunday, the wonderful foster parents to little Aleisha and Harriet. Aleisha is settling easily into her adoring new family and both foster parents speak very highly of them. Apparently there are another couple of mandated hour-long visits but her new parents have asked the foster parents to keep visiting after that. Talking to them I could see the joy for her new start battling with sadness that she has moved on. It is the selfless ability to let the joy win that makes them able to do what they do and astounds me. Hearing how happy she is and how she has now started to sit up was lovely, even if I do miss seeing my little Princess. Her new parents sound perfect and clearly understand how lucky they have been to be able to bring a gorgeous young girl into their family. It is great to know that Aleisha will have the start in life she deserves and so much love and attention.
Having made sure my Princess was ok I seemed to spend a couple of hours observing people. There are some times when quirks just stand out and yesterday was one of them. I watched a woman come to the bar with designer shades and a designer bag. From the designer bag she retrieved an expensive looking purse and proceeded to debate what funds she should use for her purchase. Having flicked through the thick wad of notes in her purse she apparently concluded that this was worthy of only a twenty. You may be wondering how I saw all of this, it was actually performed rather theatrically with the intention that her audience were aware. I managed a sly smile when I noticed that the theatre had not reached the credit card slots in the purse. There at the front was dog-eared reward card for a low-cost food retailer. When you’re trying to look loaded a gold or platinum card is called for, at least to hide the Iceland card.
During the afternoon a number of men chose to enter the bar bereft of shirts. I should point out that there is no sign or rule precluding this specifically but does there need to be one? There is no sign that states that one’s genitalia must be covered but we still wear trousers. I can’t understand why some men feel the need to enter premises with their shirt off. I love the sun and I am the first one to wander around in shorts without a shirt, after all there has to be an advantage to being the sex without breasts doesn’t there? But when you enter a business to conduct a transaction you should wear all of your clothes, it is just the right thing. What would you do if your chef or your barman greeted you without a shirt, it is just not cricket. There are, I am led to believe, establishments that operate a topless policy please understand that they are the exception and not the rule.
Having despaired of people’s ability to dress themselves, or at least remain dressed, I reverted to uncle gav. A visit from young Indya gave me plenty of opportunity to carry her around the pub collecting glasses and generally shrieking. It is great that an adult who knows of my injuries will wince when they shake my hand but a child has no such concerns. There was never a doubt in Indya’s mind that I could support her weight and indeed run around with her. This is another part of the maturity in parenthood debate. Children don’t need to know your difficulties, your worries or your stress they need to know that you are an ever-present rock, always stable and always capable. So Indya doesn’t need to know that I couldn’t lift a kettle this morning, my kids don’t need to know that it breaks my heart not to see them, they have enough time to stress when they are older.