Friday 17 July 2009

Hands-On Advice.


Growing up is a pretty universal experience. It’s something almost all of us will have to go through at some stage. It’s not always the smoothest of rides either, which is why I think it’s natural that some older people who’ve already stumbled the chaotic path to adulthood will occasionally try to offer you advice on your own life, even if they don’t know you that well. I’ve actually noticed myself doing it a bit lately, fighting the urge to distribute words of so-called wisdom to strangers when they’re probably no required and definitely not welcome. On one occasion I saw this teenage guy in the foyer of a cinema and just felt like going straight up to him, grabbing him, spinning him round, looking him dead in the eye and saying, “For the love of god, man, do not get another piercing in your face. You look like you’ve been caught in an explosion at a scrap metal factory as it is.”

But I didn’t. I just bit my lip (which incidentally still stings like a bastard, ever since I had it pierced as a teen and it got infected) and left it. You’ve got to let people make there own choices I think. See, when you’re younger, yes, you get a lot of advice and yes, on the whole it comes from a good place, but the vast majority of which will turn out to be utter bollocks. So it’s all a matter quality control really; sifting through the mountain of tired old platitudes, which anyone can spout but will never help anyone do anything, to find those few genuinely valuable life lessons. For example, I’ll always remember this one afternoon, a good few years back now, when me and an elderly gentleman I knew to see though not by name were simply sitting quietly watching the snooker on TV in a pub. All of a sudden, without taking his eyes from the screen, he said to me,

“Aye. The important thing to remember is son, you can always tell a post-op transsexual by their hands.”

I don’t know why he chose that precise moment to share such a gem, but I suppose by this time he was getting on a bit and like all worthwhile guidance handed down to subsequent generations, it was designed to stop me making the same mistakes he had made. Maybe not. Who knows? I do sometimes wish he’d found the time during those long frames of snooker, to cover couple more of the basics though. More traditional stuff, like…oh I dunno…it may be a good idea to look both ways before crossing the road. I had to find this old chestnut out the hard way.

Initially, lying on the tarmac listening to the panicked high heels of the driver approach, I was all set to blame this accident on the inferior capabilities of women behind the wheel – but that was probably just the concussion talking, because in reality the whole, ‘women make worse drivers’ thing is a bit of a myth I reckon…besides, judging by the hands that helped me up, that particular maxim didn’t technically apply in this case anyway, true or otherwise.

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