Sogger’s Blog

I mailed my uncle recently (not the one from one of my earlier posts) and one of my comments about hitting 40 was how, in my youth, it took me a long time to realise that I wouldn’t be a professional footballer, citing at one point, “it takes some people longer than others to come to terms with their mediocrity”. (I am not having a mid-life crisis by the way - at least, I don’t think so :-/).

My uncle was a journalist for many years and has had a novel published, and I really appreciated the wisdom and sentiment in his reply, so put it on the web because there are some words that I thought might be interesting to others (you never know!). Here is the abridged version of his reply. I hope it isn’t too cloying :

Glad you got the birthday card. With the Post Office strike (then) entering its second week we were wondering if it would ever be received.

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Come to terms with mediocrity….it’s a feeling often felt as you grow older. I was sure I was going to be the youngest editor of a national newspaper in Fleet St, believing that I was the best reporter that ever walked the hallowed streets of London;
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Alas it never was to be but I have still lived (and hope to extend it) an incredible life full of excitement, tragedy and stacks and stacks of fun and enjoyment.

Now in retirement it doesn’t move at the same pace but is still there to be lived and four grandchildren have opened up a new vista. Life does go on.

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I thought of writing on and started another book but a voice was constantly saying to me that there’s much to do; you spent your life writing to earn a living; why spend days indoors pounding away on the typewriter (ooops! word processor) get out and enjoy life.

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Take care and whatever happens be happy and be lucky. You don’t need anything else.

I really liked his reply and I hope you did too.

Some people say you make your own luck, but luck, by its very nature, is uncontrollable.

Being happy though, is something we should be able to have some control on. That’s the premise I’m working on in any case, but I’m lucky (sic) that this hasn’t really been put to the test as of yet.

OK, after reflection, I changed the title of the last post so that it has the more pretentious title that I decided not to use. Sorry - if you already read it, then you don’t need to re-read, unless you didn’t get the obscure message…

There is a thriving set of “associations” in our town (An association in France is a publicly-funded organisation that makes no money (a .org)). Last weekend was an exhibition organised by the local ornithological society. Now, I am fond of birds- I have bird boxes and feeding boxes ready to help them through the winter and give them a home in the spring. However, what I hate is to see caged birds. I have an almost overwhelming urge to open the cages and set them free. Pet shops are a nightmare for me as seeing caged parrots hopping from perch to perch makes me sad and angry - I have seen them in the wild and that is where they belong.

Visiting the exhibition last week brought this urge to new heights. Picture the scene: You walk into a room and are confronted with 6 rows of cages, each row with 4 cages piled on each other, and each row containing 40 cages: 480 bird cages. Each cage is 50 x 50 x 50 cm and there is a single tiny bird in each, all of them singing and generating a reverberating cacophony in such a small room. It was an impressive sight!

Each bird was beautiful, especially from someone who comes from a place where there is a constant screech of seagulls and the only colour is provided by blue-tits and robins if you are lucky (although pigeons do have an impressive chest when puffed-up during the mating season).

I have never seen such shapes and colours in birds. Tiny birds with striking purple, yellow and red intertwined, pale yellow, bright pink birds, birds with crests, feathers pointing in all directions and many more. My kids were fascinated: a beautiful sight when viewed individually.

However, the ensemble, to me, was depressing - these birds did not belong here, neither free-flying or caged. Although I could never have acted on it, the urge to set them all free was overwhelming. I imagined a lever which would open all the cages at the same time and set them all free to fill the hall with their noise and colours before flying, as one, through the door to freedom. It would have been like the explosions of colour that Sony put together for their TV ad recently (the one with the explosions of paint from tower blocks) - maybe they should consider it for a future version.

It could never have happened, but what a sight it would have been!