It was the switching on of the christmas lights in Barnsley last night. I didn’t go, I wasn’t told about it until about an hour before hand. I also didn’t go because it wasn’t me that was asked to switch on the lights, which of course, I am deeply bitter about. Still. Who wants fame eh? Frightfully awful people with bad cocaine habits and questionable taste in sexual activities probably.
I never learn really. I think I’m a good judge of character then “bam!” someone does something out of their assumed character which surprises me. Sometimes it’s nothing major and often it doesn’t really bother me but nestles in the back of my mind like a bad memory that rots its way into other memories.
I like to share my cultural experience. You may have noticed this if you have known me for sometime. Often I can be quite forceful and insistent with it; for example engineering situations where I can play examples of what ever bit of Scandinavian Rock I’ve discovered or deliberately twisting the conversation round to a particular film which I feel is relevant. I know my music tastes are not the same as everybody elses and I’m more than aware that not everybody likes my type of movie. Indeed other times I’m not as forceful and I’ll detect some mutual appreciation and, if I know and trust the person well, I will part with a relevant book, film or album which I feel would illustrate the conversation or enlighten the beneficiary.
I suppose in a pompus way I’m saying I’m not adverse to lending people my stuff.