Being bored with yourself…

21 May

Don’t we all get to the stage of tiring with who we are? I have been pretty teed-off that I stand 5ft 8ins in my stockinged feet and have had serious problems with sight lines at public events this last half-century. There is a considerable range of questionable traits, other than physical deficiencies, that I  possess and seem powerless to control. I’d like to be fashionably late; I am always irritatingly early. I delude myself that I am intellectually curious; idle is so much closer to the truth. I’d like to buy the expensive extra virgin olive oil in M and S but my 50s frugal gene pulls me towards the Tesco Basics range. I’d rather not be a slave to Match of the Day, during which I become grumpy at the merest interruption, but time and again my resolve to reinvent myself falters on the altar of the awful truth: I am who I am. I don’t want to continue to beat myself up but it would be so, so easy…and some of my deficiencies I could do something about – but I won’t. I was prompted to open up on this subject by re-reading my last blog. How dull, I thought. How self-consciously worthy, designed for the few readers to nod approvingly and click the ‘like’ button.

Now I am pretty sure that most people feel as I do. It’s all part of the well I’m stuck in this life and have no option but to grin and bear it syndrome. Recently I have noticed movement among the ranks. Some of us who are terminally bored with ourselves take up pointless hobbies and become near-obsessives. Cycling (lunch-box lycra pants, bright canary torso-hugging vest, silly flat space-helmet, shoes that click into pedals etc, etc); walking (printing out a plethora of online maps, plannning whole Sundays on the South Downs, always ending near a pub); yoga (soaks up an aweful lot of time doing not very much but drop it in to a conversation and you become ‘interesting’) and other silly activities such as pilates, zumba and, of course the gym (ugh!); going to ‘gigs’ – every generation now has ownership of some retro-band-hippie-arty open air jamboree; discovering our past with internet sites panting to get our membership money so we can discover that our ancestors were all illiterate farmers…And so the list goes on. I am a fully paid-up member of the next-fad-banwagon club.

For example, I have indeed cycled to Paris with all the pornographic gear on. Luckily the event was just long enough ago for me to have forgotten the pain and I might put my hand up for another helping. Like childbirth, I guess. I have, too, taken to walking. Indeed the only real joy here has been the pub-planning but I keep my real-ale excitement under wraps. I don’t want to offend the ramblers club who are countryfile devotees to the core. Mind you, they seem to enjoy a pint too.

Now I quite like physical exercise but the body complains rather more often these days, so following Ryan Giggs’s lead, I have enjoyed a few sessions of yoga. God it’s boring ..but undeniably good for you. My yoga class is next to a pub.

Talking of gigs, I have rocked at several stadia and Hyde Parked-it most summers. I consider myself quite cutting edge. I’ve been bookish and arty at Hay and Edinburgh, regularly check out art galleries and am a paid up member at the local cinema club. Culture is going well but my default position remains inert. I’d rather sink into a chair, a beer, a takeaway curry and the Eurovision song Contest. No delete that last bit. I did watch it last week but it even bored me into changing channels to watch the history of Origami or some such on one of those + channels.

As for ancestry ( well there’s a time-soaking world to explore. My grandma comes from railway stock! Her Dad was a stationmaster, so too his Dad – and before that they were…farmers. My granddad was an accountant but  a cavalryman in the Queen’s Own Hussars during WW1. His Dad was a police sergeant and before that they were all….farmers. I confess to quite a few frissons of excitement looking through various censuses, so I am being just a tad disingenuous. You get the point, however.

The Rolling Stones are having one of their several last hurrahs this summer. They too seem desperate to stave off boredom. They appear to know who they are, however.

See you in Glastonbury. I’m taking my new camera.

One Response to “Being bored with yourself…”

  1. Ashley Brown June 21, 2013 at 1:33 am #

    love it, Paul. The RS’s have always known what they – my all time favourite group!

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