I’m not mental   Leave a comment

Were you expecting “Aside”?

Yesterday, my regular (non-Google) reader went to camp in a muddy, noisy field for a week, so my stats page is going to be pretty bare. Especially as the spambots seem to have finally got bored and given up their incessant homepage prodding.

I’d had the opportunity to go to Glastonbury – for free, as a fire warden – a couple of previous years. I did not, which might make some people think I’m utterly mental. Listening to some of the bands would be quite nice, but spending a week camping (which sounds pretty awful itself), in a field, with one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand people, utterly inadequate toilet and washing facilities, and no escape from the noise (or the weather), is not a price I’m willing to pay to hear a few tunes.
So I don’t feel I missed out.

In the evening I listened to the last episode of Richard Herring’s As It Occurs To Me podcast. I was hoping to get to a recording of that on the bank holiday weekend, but couldn’t get home afterwards due to train times. A pity; Christ on a Bike was good.

“You only regret the things you didn’t do”, goes the saying. But I don’t think I’ll be overcome by despair, in ten or fifteen years, at missing seeing AIOTM live. I enjoyed the podcasts, I can listen to them as much as I like, and I’ll probably get the CD with the extras when that goes on sale. It’ll be fine.

However, occasionally a memory of one of the many silly things I did a decade or more ago will pop into my head, and they will still mortify me with embarassment. Why on earth did I say that?! Or – why was I so painfully stupid? What was I thinking?
Most of them are utterly trivial, and some of them didn’t bother me when I did them. I doubt anybody else involved remembers, if they even noticed at the time, and whether they do or not is irrelevant because I’ve not seen or spoken to them for years.
But I know.

Maybe, you could say, that those stupid things prevented me making the same mistake later. That the recurring embarassment stops me forgetting and repeating them. That they made me who I am.
But is that a good thing? Maybe, had I not made them, I would be better.

So I think you should ignore the saying; you will never know the things you don’t do, but the stupid things you do will haunt you for years.

Lock the doors and the windows, never venture out, never speak to anybody. It’s the only way to be sure.


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