A recent all-too-brief conversation prompted me to think about what defines the success of a social network.
In my world it’s not about the numbers of users, nor is it the number of followers, nor is it measured by the number of visits, replies, mentions or comments on linked posts.
Here’s my list:
And here, better than I could ever put into words in any coherent way and manner approaching brevity, is a diagram of the inner workings of my mind.
Dateline: Right now!
I just ate a couple of slices of a Hawaiian pizza I bought for my girls.
(pause for effect…)
And I liked it.
Yes, I introduced a foodstuff (pineapple) positioned diametrically opposite to my views on the addition of fruit to savoury meals. One I’d purchased outwith the normal weekly shop…
Heck, I even carried the thing up the icy path from the village!
I’m not averse to foodstuffs prepared in challenging ways but pineapple is one of those polarising fruits; tolerable in isolation, downright wrong on a pizza. Or with gammon.*
It would appear that 2016 is shaping up to be a year of experimentation, even compromise.
*Gammon with egg FTW!
The story of Jack and the Beanstalk encompasses a great many moral lessons, chief of which is planting magic beans isn’t always the easiest path to riches.
I’ve lost count of the number of magic beans I planted over the years, but there the similarity to the fairy (or is it folk?) story’s eponymous protagonist ends; I’m not a thief or murderer.
I’ve felt like turning to the dark side a good few times when my plans have come to naught, but this sense of morality always intrudes.
Maybe it’s a good thing.
I’m occasionally advised to play the long game; to be patient and realise ‘these things [actually do] take time.’
I’m reminded of Isaac Asimov’s ‘Nightfall’ - and what might happen were I to see the fruits of my labours spread out before me, their collective greatness too awful for mortal man to behold unfiltered.
So-ooo…
What will the UK retirement age be for a man of my years?
“I don’t want to holiday in the sun
I want to go to the new Belsen
I want to see some history
‘Cause now I got a reasonable economy”
So sang the Sex Pistols, on a record released during my 13th year on this planet. I’ll be honest though, I just wasn’t old enough to ‘get’ Punk Rock. That said, ‘Never Mind The Bollocks’ became one of my most favourite, most played albums…
I inherited a desire to explore from my parents. Not the ‘grand’ pith-helmet type of exploration, not the canoe up the Amazon type nor the temples and ancient artifacts variant of open-seas pirates, no.
A desire to not go on holiday, laze about all day, get a lobster tan and return home after a conventional 2 weeks, extolling the virtues of the local beers and stinky sausages, and appearing from the holiday snaps to have enjoyed every minute.
My only pool/seaside holiday was my honeymoon; but that’s a tale for another time.
Until 1992 we as a family had never left the United Kingdom, not even the mainland - apart from the flight to The Isle of Man for an, er… regulation 2 week annual holiday. We always found something to do. Always.
My dad passed away first, sadly (from my perspective at least) without a repeat flight. By the time mum left us we’d still been abroad only twice; coach tours to first West coast USA then, the following year, East coast USA & Canada. Fan-with-a-capital-effing-an-tastic!
Friends asked if I’d like to go on an Egyptian your; you know, THE Pyramids, cruise down THE River Nile, Karnak, balloon flight… Egypt is an amazing country - and one I hope to return to one day with my family.
One day, one day…
That same year, a USA tour from Washington DC through the South and departing from Dallas TX. The year after that another USA tour, this starting in Denver CO, south through the American Rockies into New Mexico then West, departing from Phoenix AZ.
A couple of years later, with a mate and feeling a little more confident, a week’s American Football tour around Ohio; my first, and so-far only fly-drive holiday. Football, beer, noise and driving on the wrong side of the road just because we could. Bloody great!
A year later, with my wife-to-be, a very special Egyptian tour. This time I did not escape the Pharoahs’ curse; the Siwa oasis hotel’s on-entry-room-smells-of-poo experience simply has to be experienced. And I did. For the next week-and-a-half.
Then we took three cheap mini-cruises; overnight ferry, day in a European city, ferry overnight back home.
Tours hand it, whatever it is, to the tourist on a plate. All the lazy traveller must do in return is not antagonise one’s fellow travellers.
Easy.
After all that, to mention I’d never visited my own country’s capital city (2 hours by train) until October last year might appear a little odd.
A-aaand, just like that, both my blogging and cold toilet seat streaks (see my other blog) are broken.
It’s ok.