Random Ramblings by the Lovely Dean Wales…
One Foot in the Grave… The Other on a Skateboard
As a 35 year old man….what? Okay, as a 45 year old man I’d like to think that I’ve reached a level of maturity which would render me a fully-fledged adult.
But it occurred to me the other day just how immature the hunter-gatherer among us can be. It seems we never lose that little boy aspect deeply rooted in our persona. You see I was strolling out of a well-known supermarket and spotted a 40 something male comrade body-surfing his trolley to his car. Of course I chided such juvenile and potentially hazardous behaviour. Actually I didn’t.
In fact it took all the will power I could muster not to do exactly the same! I was on the verge of resting my chest on the hand-rail, right foot pressed firmly against the tarmac, leg poised ready to give me an initial burst of energy and subsequent trolley-based acceleration. It was only a vicar walking towards me and a security guard that prevented me pushing off with a yell of: “Wheeeeeee!!!” Oh my word! W hat had gotten into me?
Upon speaking to my fellow chaps teetering on middle-age it seems it doesn’t stop at shopping trolleys either. A chum of mine confessed that he had only bought his son a Scalextric kit for his birthday because he wanted one himself. Fair enough I thought; that was until he further admitted that he wouldn’t let his son have a turn on it. In fact it resulted in my friend operating both triggers with his foot on his boy’s chest to prevent him getting to him before he finished a lap.
Another mate proclaimed he bought a Nerf Nite Finder (look it up) so that he could shoot polystyrene suction darts at his girlfriend in the dark. He went to great lengths to tell me about the accuracy of the laser target-sight and that he never failed to hit the mole on her elbow. Challenge a buddy to a race in the pub car park and you’ll see he just won’t be able to resist. The tan loafers will be off and he’ll be in the starting position before you can say Mo Farah.
Anyway I’m a grown-up, mature professional so I need to go…I’ve got an office-chair race with my Head of Operations in ten minutes and I need to limber up.