When you’re round a table and only two of you have all your original parts. Fortunaty as some one who has never looked after himself I’m glad to report that I was one of the still intact individuals.
The suns up, it’s Friday afternoon before a bank holiday week-end so naturally it’s sloping off from work time.
After interminable delays from Sky (yes sir, just a couple of days) Kims broardband is in so it’s off to the new Castle Thrower to lounge about, sorry, that should read “set up his computer”.
This took minutes so it was into the deep leather chair to listen to the world according to Kim. This involves string of conciousness wisdom without the wisdom. Mind you perhaps it’s just jealosy on my part as his new found single status has lead to a queue forming by his bed when all I seem to get by mine is wood lice.
Anyway here is a picture of our hard working hero…
Steve, techno lounging
One of the reasons I don’t “do” politics here usually is that it’s such a complex subject and as I get older I’m wary of the semantic straw men we use in place of thought, it also doesn’t get the laughs. I’m also leaning towards the opinion that any discussion deals mainly with the psychology of the participants and the shared pretence that “facts” are involved is moral cowardice. Surely the one thing the internet has shown us is that there is so much knowledge swilling around that anyone trumpeting their grasp of a situation is, er, a self deluded liar.
One other reason I have is that few people seem that interested and almost nobody is interested in solutions beyond bashing each other with their ignorant “pick and mix” tribal beliefs.
Fast becoming a core belief with me is the concept of “always being wrong”. I am. I have changed my mind over thing so many time throughout my life I am amazed that people can keep the same views for more than a few years, and they do. Why?
Then I realised, there are two reason to gain knowledge, 1: find out something new, 2: validate a held view.
This brings us back to all conversation being about personal psychology. The first reason requires confidence the second is an admission of fear.
I know which I prefer, and you?
One of these is a politician, clue: it’s not the one with a pocket watch.
I also managed to get an invite to Tony’s (fellow marbles team member) 50th in May. Proving, in Hastings at least, lusting after another man’s wife is no barrier to social success, what a great place this is.
Tony, a few years ago, about to “glass” the photographer.
Yesterday I started out as just mild mannered Steve Hardy photographer and ended up as a member of a winning team at Winkle Island Marbles Championship. This is one of the few sports that seems to encourage substance abuse as my fellow team members all played with pints in hand. It was a hard fought championship displaying high levels of skill, er, okay, no skill at all and no one was really bothered who won but we did end up with a cup. Afterwards the celebrations commenced and I suspect you know what’s coming here, another slow crawl up the West Hill, unusually this time in broad daylight, most of which I don’t remember.
As an aside, participating is more fun than taking pictures but only I could see that as a revelation…
Team member Vic with the trophy
The King of Castle Beckington is fifty today and has been ordered to stay off work by the divine Mrs S on pain of death. He is basking in the glory of a near victory over his children over the last week-end at the board game “20 questions”. The fact the game was purchased years before his eldest was born gave him another, not to be missed, opportunity to moan about the state of modern education. That his children are all doing better at school than he ever did seems not to matter!
The adorable Mrs Smith has broken her wrist during a major health and safety infraction; in many cases babes and mud go together well, this was not one of those cases. At least the doctors at A&E have a sense of humour and have fashioned the plaster in a style that makes Mrs Smith look like Rod Hull & Emu. She now wanders the vast halls of her home, the castle Beckington, whilst barking orders at her slaves, sorry, that should read “as her willing family muck in”.
Liz has this party every year, she puts a lot of effort into it and it’s enjoyed by almost everyone (you can guess who the odd man out is, but more of that in a moment), there’s live music, good food and everyone you haven’t seen for a year. And yes, the odd man out is me. I enjoy talking with people, I don’t enjoy live, or loud, music, just talking & listening. The other problem this year is that at the moment I am going through one of my “geek” phases and to be honest my head is immersed in the wonders of PHP scripting almost every second, I joke not; I lay in bed at night mulling over the latest bit of code I’ve produced and how it can be improved! So, the bottom line is that I’m not scintillating company. I lasted 40 minutes at the party, I was visibly bored with my own conversation and looked like a man who wanted to be else where, which I was. Anyway, by ten I was back in the pallid comforting glow of ageing geek heaven. It was so bad that I missed a chance to talk to the last FMH (Future Mrs Hardy) who I spotted on the way out. She won’t thank me for saying it, though we were completely incompatible (that’s code for I was a shit as usual), she still looks the sexiest woman on Gods earth!
The former and last Future Mrs Hardy disguised for her protection.
Families are an endless source of wonder and this is at it’s best when the extended family is round the Sunday lunch table. Grandmas fulfilling their role as strict stereotypes to children who, having mastered their parents, humour them good naturedly half understanding that Grandma never managed to train their own children so what chance now? The wandering disgruntled ghost of the pointlessly bored teenage girl setting herself up as an easy target for a less that sympathetic younger brother. Round the table the slight mist of unspoken injustices and unsolvable conundrums add a marvellous edge. It was a great meal, it’s one of the few families that make me regret never having married!
The frowning ghost of Ninfield
“Religion grants its adherents malign, intoxicating and morally corrosive sensations. Destroying intellectual freedom is always evil, but only religion makes doing evil feel quite so good” – Philip Pullman