Today I spent a good five minutes dancing around the living whilst singing the theme tune to Cowboy Bebop in my head. When I say dancing, I use this term very loosely. I was half doing the twist but I had the true artistic vision to flail my arms in the air in time with my legs as though I were a small hyper-active child trying to grope at the jars of sweets on the top shelf of the sweet shop. Whilst doing this, I claimed that ‘this is the dance that all the kids are doing now’ whilst Keri watched on as though I had some serious issues going on in my life. After a few minutes, I think it more turned into bogling than anything else. I was working it up and down like a champion. I am however, starting to get on a little bit and am slightly overweight. It was too much for my ankle to take. There was a click and I hit the floor. Being the professional I am, this did not stop me. My arms and legs sprang back into action as I insisted that this was all part of the dance.
Just before Christmas, I woke up one morning and decided, for no reason other than it was there, to don the giraffe onesie Keri had bought me for Christmas 2013. I happen to look very dapper in it. I then took to scooting around the floor on my back, propelled by my feet for about 20 minutes until I got stumped by the stairs.
I will often talk to myself in various accents while I am alone. And scat along to music even though I’m not entirely sure I fully understand the concept of scat.
Why do I do these things? I do them because I am a grown-up. Fully-fledged mature and responsible adult. When people reach adulthood and have to start doing things like paying rent and council tax and national insurance, they see this as the time to stop being silly and doing things for no reason other than doing them is a joy. They basically turn into Mr Banks for off of Mary Poppins. I think at the start it feels completely alien to them but they do it because they assume it is the right way to behave – straight-laced, boring. They say that if you do something for 40 days in a row, it becomes habitual. They also say that every seven years, with behavioural patterns changing and cell death and regrowth, that you are a brand-new person. These things combined mean that the start to this ‘growing up and being mature’ eventually becomes the norm for them and they become it. This is wrong.
For me, true maturity means knowing exactly when you can get away with being silly because, let’s face it. We all prefer being silly. It’s much more fun and we all ant to have as much fun as we can in our short time on this mortal coil.
Examples, at a funeral is a good time for being mature. We go to pay our respects to the dearly departed, dress appropriately and show deference to those who are grieving. This is correct. It would not be right to do dressed in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt trying to get a conga line going. Unless they are the express wishes of the person who has passed on. (I might insist on luau for my funeral.
However, I have found that when you are around children is a perfect time to be silly. Yes, we have to set an example for the children too but e can have fun. When we go to visit Keri’s parents and the weather is nice, I am the first on the trampoline, even before her little brothers. Because it’s much more fun than not doing it.
These may be poor examples but I am hoping you get the ethos behind what I am saying. There is no reason to become monochrome because you have to go to work and pay water rates. Let’s embrace our inner-child. Look at the world wide-eyes. Things are quite wonderful out there hen you’re not staring at the ground just trying to get through another day.
Today has been quite a positive day. Here is a poem. (This may be a poem in a few parts as I think it will be quite long.
‘People of this country of ours,
I would be the first to say
things have gotten out of control.
There have been riots in the streets,
muggings, murders, frauds, corruption
and seemingly a fresh scandal
at the heart of government every day.
Things have to change and I feel genuine
privilege and honour that you have elected
me to start turning the tide.
In order to fully understand my plans
I would like to tell you a story.
Before I entered politics, I worked
in a leading supermarket, stacking shelves.
This was in spite of protestations from my parents
who offered to sustain me through my studies at
university. I was, however, unwilling to accept their
generosity as I wanted to forge my own path
and work for my own living.
I remember clearly working on the frozen foods
department one day when a positively
uncharming couple walked onto my aisle.
They were chatting about what they
were going to eat for tea. The man said he
wanted meat and potato pie so they made their
way to the frozen pies. After considering the options
I heard the woman say that “they could not have
meat and potato pie for tea as they only have
potato and meat pies.” I watched aghast
as they walked off. This is the moment I first
realised I wanted to work my way to a position
where I can make a difference, to stop
the disappointment of honest, if misguided, couples
such as they.’
That’s the end of part one. There will be other parts to follow so if you enjoyed this, please look out for them and as always, feedback is welcome and encouraged!
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