Musings...
I fear something. It's not a big fear really, it's more of a small worry than a fear if I'm being truly honest. It's probably one of those things that people suffer from. Like those who fear the number 13 (triskaidekaphobiacs) or those who have an irrational fear of spiders (arachnophobics).
But my fear isn't as stupid as those are. I mean, come on, 13 is just a number and a spider ain't shit to a decent sized shoe or a rolled up newspaper. Deal with it.
The problem mainly stems from my general lack of care as to how I look. If you were to put me into a police line up with an assorted cross section of society I'd be the person most likely to be picked out at random as the one who looks like he would steal the sugar from your coffee without you even noticing.
This annoys me. I'm a generally well balanced human being, I just couldn't care less than a fuck if someone else's perception of me is flawed. And I'm no stranger to this human foible, I have on occasion judged strangers by how they look. I'm forever looking at fashion conscious youth and wondering what the fuck they were thinking when they got ready for the day ahead.
And it's not just the youth that I've been guilty of blindly evaluating either. Everytime I see someone wearing a suit and tie I automatically think "There they go, just another number in the misery machine." Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly anti-people, I even wish bad tidings upon them. Nothing major you understand, I don't pray they suffer a sudden aneurysm in the middle of ASDA or that they are mown down and killed by an out of control lawnmower.
Occasionally I call upon the Gods to have someone punch them very hard for no apparent reason. Not me, you understand, I'm not a violent man by nature. Perhaps the Gods could have their spouse whack them in the head when they get home that night, maybe their best friend could whip out a fist and sock them in the jaw while they are playing squash at the gym. Whoever does the deed isn't important, just so long as it's done.
By having these thoughts and subsequently realising that these thoughts are shared by all of humanity at some level, whether you want to accept them or not, I know that there are people judging me by looks alone on a regular basis. (I wonder, are they calling for misdeeds to be done upon my person? If so I'm going to up my wish level to include aneurysms in ASDA's)
Anyhoo... My fear is that sometimes I'm mistaken for an uneducated idiot. ("Mistaken?" I hear you question.) I mean it's not as though I look like I have been educated in any way, shape or form. I've never owned a pair of corduroy slacks, I can't stand tweed and I think elbow patches on Barbour jackets look stupid and that the people who wear these abhorrent clothes should be punched on principle.
I have what you might call a "distinctly uneducated" look about me. More often than not I wear jeans and a t-shirt, trainers and a hat of some description. Which is standard issue apparel for what are endearingly called Neds up here in Bonnie Scotland. (Oh the land of the free... And the home of the Ned.)
As such I could be mistakenly identified as a Ned. And this causes me much angst. everytime I'm trailed around a store by a security guard or I'm looked at in a strange manner by a random person I have the urge to say to them...
"Honestly, I'm not a Ned. I've read Descartes, Freud and Nietzsche. Ok, sure, I may not have understood it but I still read them."
But my fear isn't as stupid as those are. I mean, come on, 13 is just a number and a spider ain't shit to a decent sized shoe or a rolled up newspaper. Deal with it.
The problem mainly stems from my general lack of care as to how I look. If you were to put me into a police line up with an assorted cross section of society I'd be the person most likely to be picked out at random as the one who looks like he would steal the sugar from your coffee without you even noticing.
This annoys me. I'm a generally well balanced human being, I just couldn't care less than a fuck if someone else's perception of me is flawed. And I'm no stranger to this human foible, I have on occasion judged strangers by how they look. I'm forever looking at fashion conscious youth and wondering what the fuck they were thinking when they got ready for the day ahead.
And it's not just the youth that I've been guilty of blindly evaluating either. Everytime I see someone wearing a suit and tie I automatically think "There they go, just another number in the misery machine." Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly anti-people, I even wish bad tidings upon them. Nothing major you understand, I don't pray they suffer a sudden aneurysm in the middle of ASDA or that they are mown down and killed by an out of control lawnmower.
Occasionally I call upon the Gods to have someone punch them very hard for no apparent reason. Not me, you understand, I'm not a violent man by nature. Perhaps the Gods could have their spouse whack them in the head when they get home that night, maybe their best friend could whip out a fist and sock them in the jaw while they are playing squash at the gym. Whoever does the deed isn't important, just so long as it's done.
By having these thoughts and subsequently realising that these thoughts are shared by all of humanity at some level, whether you want to accept them or not, I know that there are people judging me by looks alone on a regular basis. (I wonder, are they calling for misdeeds to be done upon my person? If so I'm going to up my wish level to include aneurysms in ASDA's)
Anyhoo... My fear is that sometimes I'm mistaken for an uneducated idiot. ("Mistaken?" I hear you question.) I mean it's not as though I look like I have been educated in any way, shape or form. I've never owned a pair of corduroy slacks, I can't stand tweed and I think elbow patches on Barbour jackets look stupid and that the people who wear these abhorrent clothes should be punched on principle.
I have what you might call a "distinctly uneducated" look about me. More often than not I wear jeans and a t-shirt, trainers and a hat of some description. Which is standard issue apparel for what are endearingly called Neds up here in Bonnie Scotland. (Oh the land of the free... And the home of the Ned.)
As such I could be mistakenly identified as a Ned. And this causes me much angst. everytime I'm trailed around a store by a security guard or I'm looked at in a strange manner by a random person I have the urge to say to them...
"Honestly, I'm not a Ned. I've read Descartes, Freud and Nietzsche. Ok, sure, I may not have understood it but I still read them."
Comments
You dress just fine! The black hair/gel/shirt & tie thing for work a month or so ago made you look even more handsome than usual! Everybody noticed it!
I can't see you in a suit somehow but I bet you'd look great in a kilt! That I'd like to see!
And Steven, your Uncle Alan was married in Uniform, he was in the Royal Navy, a fine handsome man he was to. Will maybe put that out as well.
Take care you all.
There will be no, I repeat, no posting of myself wearing a little blue suit with ducky's on it. (I can't remember ever having a wee blue suit with, or without, duckys.)
If however you would like to scan the pic of me at Stuarts wedding I'll happily post them on here for all to see.
If you scan the pic of dad all dressed up like an extra from the village people I'll post that as well.
and your dad did not look like an extra from the village people, he looked lovely
mother
Aunty P...sorry, I'd forgotten about Uncle A being in the navy at the time...