|Blogs > funintheday2006 > CLITICALLY CHALLENGED|
Pleasure and Pain.. balanced?
Pleasure and Pain.. balanced?
Late for work today, arrived at 4.30am and meant to be here an hour earlier, guess the sleep fairy wanted her time with me too!
(Boring bit, background…
This past 2 years have been a little intense regarding working as the industry suffers falling revenues per job due to competition and increased operating costs, particularly fuel which has added 11% to the overall operating budget.
It was a scenario that was predictable and I made provisions and developed new procedures in order to protect the strength of my company. This was a move that saw our increase in business etc as I detailed in a previous blog. A side issue is that a large number of people in the industry decided that I had a couple of ideas that were worth considering and I was approached by our industry association to ask if I would be prepared to do a series of lectures across the country detailing ‘best practice’ and introducing the new procedures.
(Back to me me me me me…..)
Those of you who read this regularly will understand the interpretation I put on the request which was
“ How would you like to spout off, for as long as you want, at large audiences that cannot tell you to keep it short, shut up or question your views and ideas in anything other than a positive form, oh, and we’ll pay you a ridiculously high sum of money to do so. We will also ensure that all your expenses are met in such a way that you can earn much cash on them too and to ensure you know how much you can fiddle we will give you a huge allowance for hotel and entertaining whilst on the circuit.”
Now listen, I would have done it for free! Can you imagine the ego inflation factor? The opportunity to take a stage and spew your ideas, create a new fan club (??), pour your wisdom (?) upon the masses, have music and lights herald your entrance, secrete a remote on your person so you have full control of the projector screen and hidden ‘puter, dazzle the participants with your wit and have a longer question and answer session than Tony Blair or Banal Bush? Course I’ll bloody do it!!
I even get a lectern with a head up display, so no papers to shuffle and I can be as animated as I want, mincing across the stage, getting close to the audience and improvising like hell. God, I love life.
The best thing about it is, I am stood before them, an apparition of executive sartorial elegance, confident, in control, a man with all the answers and not one of them realise just how silly I really am. I get strange urges to blow raspberries, sit on a stool and tell ridiculous stories, my giggle factor is never more than a millisecond from bursting out. I want to stop and ask them individually about their lives, who they really are, how business has suppressed their wants and needs and I want to know how many of these suited and booted captains of industry are, like me, just wanting a playground so we can ride on the roundabout, play on the swings and throw sand into buckets. How many, like me, want the simple pleasures in life like 30 minutes without any responsibility, a swim in the sea, an ice cream whilst walking down the street, someone to do something for you, just because they want to.
We make choices in life and we have to live with them for good or bad and we have to balance the rewards and liabilities. I really have no complaints, or grounds for them so I suppose they feel the same.
One of the biggest pleasures I used to get was sitting on the floor of any of my sisters houses and being stupid with their children. I was ( and probably still am) favourite uncle ( they haven’t got another one!) because I always had the time to play. What no-one ever knew is that it was MY pleasure I was fulfilling and the kids were there as an excuse to be ridiculous. We had great fun.
Speaking of two of my nieces, I became almost a substitute father for a few years after their father died and I became just a tad protective.
One day recently I was visiting their mum and one was getting ready to go out so disappeared upstairs with the usual calls of “mum, where have you put my clothes, why isn’t this top ironed,” you know the score.
Any way, there I am having a conversation with my sister and her friend when said niece appears in doorway wearing a micro-skirt and a top that made it apparent that a bra was an accessory she neither wanted nor needed.
“ Get back up those stairs and change, you are not going out looking like that, “ I boomed in my most forthright uncley way.
“ I am 22, “ she said sweetly.
Oh, that’s that then. Shit.
How can she be 22, its only a couple of months ago that I took her to school, isn’t it?
That is so weird.
Her sister has a very affectionate nature and spent many years waiting for me to come so she could crease my trousers by sitting on my knee for what seemed like weeks on end. After her father died she sort of attached herself to me with Velcro and, there were times, when it was just a bit much, or so I thought.
One day she got a boyfriend ( they are now married, do they allow 11 year olds to marry?) and one day it just hit me that I was no longer the most important man in her life.
Now, I have no children of my own, so I wonder if fathers go through this real topsy turvy gamut of emotions when that happens to them, or is it different for a “real” father?
Like everyone, I’ve had some bad times emotionally but, I cannot ever remember anything so acute, painful or that had me on the verge of tears for so long. Many nights I spent alone tearful and feeling useless.
Bloody hell, that got deep didn’t it?
Going now, back later
5/25/2006 9:12 pm
This is a beautiful post. I need to feel you out a bit in order to comment on you on my blog. However, the answer is, "Yes, I can."|
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