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Tuesday, 14 May 2013

Blog 38 I DID IT!

It was me. Yeah. I did it. Mea culpa.

No! I did not shoot JR. Nor was it me on the grassy knoll.

I didn’t bath in baked beans or run 13 miles dressed as a peanut butter sandwich for charity. In fact there was not actual point to the act, which made it more wonderful.

Perhaps it was some psychological delayed reaction to the hideous elections and hideous jaunty attitude of the media to hideous N Farage (see last week). Or nervous worry about bees or exploitation and general global madness – who will even know.

But I was happier after the event than those ecstatic advert-bland women who find they have banished unwanted odours from their living rooms with a plug-in air freshener that pumps nasty chemicals into their homes (clean or get rid of the dog ya dirty sows).

I was more content than the post face-lift manikins who only smile because their faces have been set that way.

The thing I did was on my subconscious to-do list like digging out the compost heap or getting on the Booker shortlist or the long list or being considered to be in the list of books that get chucked in the bin while they are sorting the long list...

Suddenly I got the chance. And more importantly I took it.
I grasped the nettle, bit the bullet, grabbed the bull by the horns. Carpe diem and all that.

SO stuff you ordinary thrill seekers with your bungee jumping and sky diving and parachuting and off piste-ing and smoking and drinking.
I did a spontaneous train announcement.
Knackered and still with a way to go, I was being rattled about in the corridor of a train pulling into Leamington Spa train station late Friday night, en route to my granny’s 90th birthday party. The guard picked up the black   phone-looking thingy with the orange button in a booth where we were standing. In a voice flat with drudgery and boredom he announced our imminent arrival.
“I’ve always wanted to do that” I blurted out stupidly.
“Go on then” he replied with challenge flashing across his face and a you-wouldn’t-dare sneer in his voice. “People always say that” he continued more wearily and much to my discombobulation and partial deflation.

Still I might have backed down in the face of the sudden potential realisation of one of my deeply suppressed desires, dreams, ambitions, aspirations BUT there were two fellow passengers standing right by who’d witnessed the whole exchange.

With uncharacteristic bravado and willing myself to be recipient of my own wisdom re making a fool of oneself (see blog.4 - 4th Sept 2012) I stepped forward boldly going where I’d never been before. I plucked the mouthpiece from the holder and pressed the orange button and

And no – I’m not going to tell you what I said.

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