Its like a photograph, really, it is.This sketch of me is from the unreasonably talented pen of one Scott Petrie of Belfast, Son Of The House Of Petrie. He has certainly nailed my crazy paving dental plan.
A face out of time.
You know I am reminded that just the other day I was pottering around in a charity store when another customer strolling past remarked how quiet the streets of Belfast seemed in January in comparison to the frenzied experience that is December. I explained I believed that this was just the coming down after the cloud dancing of the holidays, when quiet reigns and the streets seem suffused with ennui.
At that moment a Catholic Priest who had been browsing the board game section looked up in surprise and said I HAVE WAITED A LIFETIME TO HEAR THE WORD ENNUI USED IN CONVERSATION AND YOU JUST DID. YOU USED IT BEAUTIFULLY TOO.WELL DONE.
Flattery goes a long way with me. I respond the same way a gannet or a seagull does to a dropped chip.
FANNY. THAT IS ANOTHER WORD YOU NEVER HEAR USED IN CONVERSATION ANYMORE.I MEAN WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU HEARD THE WORD SAID OUT LOUD?
NO ONE EVER CALLS THEIR DAUGHTER FANNY AND IT USED TO BE SUCH A POPULAR NAME,FANNY. ESPECIALLY AMONGST VICTORIAN PARLOR MAIDS. YES, NO ONE EVER SAYS FANNY ANYMORE.
The accompanying silence should have warned me to stop talking. I looked at the aghast faces of the stunned customer and the goodly priest.
YOU ARE NOT CALLED FANNY ARE YOU?I asked the customer with genuine surprise. CAUSE THE CHANCES OF THAT ARE JUST REMARKABLE.
Again there was that warning silence.
The priest rolled his eyes and went back to examining the second hand box of KERPLUNK.
One has to learn to absorb a compliment with a quiet dignity and not respond with oafish needy sycophancy.
Yet that is the closest thing I have to a super power.