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I have a very bad memory... hang on. I better just warn you that this is going to be about several different things, and I'm going to have trouble making it smoothly link altogether. Just a warning.
As I was writing.
I have a very bad memory. When I was either 7 or 9 years old, ironically enough I can't remember which, I was struck down with that hidious to spell thing called melingitious. Don't worry, this isn't one of those horrible "I nearly died, I'm so lucky" things. I'm just raising the point, because that's about where I lost nearly all of my memory. This will be important later.
I went shopping in Swansea again today, finishing off my Christmas shopping. And, as shopping goes, there were of course the bands happily playing in the cold. One, indoors, were playing all the Christmas songs, and the second one, outdoors, were playing some excellent jazz stuff. I stood and led the clapping at one point. Great stuff.
But as I was inside picking up presents for friends, [After just texting my best friend to find out what his girlfriend's bra size was, and then bursting out in laughter in Dixons after getting the hate filled reply back], I suddenly noticed how all the shoppers were going around in pairs... people kissing, hugging, and holding hands. The only thing I had in my hand was a Woolworths bag with presents, cards, and cheap books bought from 'charity' workers. It's a problem I have, I'll probably write about it another time.
And then I suddenly felt very lonely. We Three Kings of Orient Ar, or whatever it is, started rewriting itself in my head. So depressing, underdressing, I'll think I'll go sit in the car.
And now I can tell you why I wrote that bit about my memory. You see, for some odd reason, whenever I'm feeling down, something suddenly returns to my memory, as if my mind was trying to cheer me up, as it were.
It's quite amazing to suddenly be able to recall every single detail about something that happened to you years ago, when a few minutes ago you didn't even know it even happened.
Today's titbit was about my Grandfather, which I am utterly convinced is the greatest person to have ever lived. He really was the most amazing creature, and in my eyes, was the definition of character. Let me tell you a little about him.
He was a small, dumpy man... he always wore a checkered cotton coat, and a small brimmed hat of equivilent material. He once built a restaurant/hotel because "it was a good idea at the time".
In times that I had no friends in the world, where people would seem simply greedy and pathetic, there would be my Grampa, above it all, with compassion for everyone.
However, as with all wonderful people, there was a sadder, darker side. He had become addicted to smoking, and through his death, dying of lung/heart cancer, he did begin to lose his wits and sanity, and become less and less of what he was. It was depressing to watch the downfall of the most incredible person on earth, and in a small tribute to him, I've vowed never to smoke in my life, because I know that's what he'll be telling me. Wiping off a few years from the end of your life is one thing, but having to go through so much pain and trouble, not just to yourself, but the ones that love you, is troubling.
The thing I remembered today was one day, when I was taken down to our cycle shop, and told that my Grandfather wanted to speak to me. I didn't know what was going on... it wasn't a special day, just another letter in the sentence of life, as it were.
I await in the office, and in walks my Grampa.
"Ah, there you are. How do you fancy going to an ice cream convention?"
This is why I loved him so much. Things would happen when you were around him that made little or no sense, but seemed so utterly perfect. It was almost like being in a dream...
We journeyed off, and arrived in a large hall, packed with Walls logos all over the place. I was the only child in there... I must have been at least six or so. A six year old child in an ice cream convention.
"Faces to me are useless..." I remember him saying. "It's the voices I concentrate on, I remember them better. Do you find that?"
"No, not really."
"Ah, you will, you will."
We sat down, and listened to a man talking figures and pie charts. I didn't really pay too much attention until he then suddenly announced the new line up of Walls Icecream, and then asked for people to come forward and try the new Icecreams. There was the one that was like a pink foot... and had a chewing gum football attached to it... that's the one I remember most, because it tasted very nice. :0)
I also remember the man giving me a Walls pen too, for getting a question right about the icecream sales. Perhaps I was paying attention after all.
I think I can honestly say that I would not be half the person I would be because my Grandfather. He was so utterly inspiring to me... and perhaps, I was inspiring to him. I feel now that I was a sort of escape for him, away from the life of cigarettes and business, just becoming a kid again and going to Ice Cream Conventions.
I miss him dearly, but I know if he was still alive, or just looking down, or even up, on me now, I know he'll be proud of who I am.
Keeping in tradition with making the topic actually have a lot to do with the title, I ask you now to talk about your own idols, if you have any, or if not, do you feel stronger without them? Is God your idol? Why?
Discuss. :0)
As I was writing.
I have a very bad memory. When I was either 7 or 9 years old, ironically enough I can't remember which, I was struck down with that hidious to spell thing called melingitious. Don't worry, this isn't one of those horrible "I nearly died, I'm so lucky" things. I'm just raising the point, because that's about where I lost nearly all of my memory. This will be important later.
I went shopping in Swansea again today, finishing off my Christmas shopping. And, as shopping goes, there were of course the bands happily playing in the cold. One, indoors, were playing all the Christmas songs, and the second one, outdoors, were playing some excellent jazz stuff. I stood and led the clapping at one point. Great stuff.
But as I was inside picking up presents for friends, [After just texting my best friend to find out what his girlfriend's bra size was, and then bursting out in laughter in Dixons after getting the hate filled reply back], I suddenly noticed how all the shoppers were going around in pairs... people kissing, hugging, and holding hands. The only thing I had in my hand was a Woolworths bag with presents, cards, and cheap books bought from 'charity' workers. It's a problem I have, I'll probably write about it another time.
And then I suddenly felt very lonely. We Three Kings of Orient Ar, or whatever it is, started rewriting itself in my head. So depressing, underdressing, I'll think I'll go sit in the car.
And now I can tell you why I wrote that bit about my memory. You see, for some odd reason, whenever I'm feeling down, something suddenly returns to my memory, as if my mind was trying to cheer me up, as it were.
It's quite amazing to suddenly be able to recall every single detail about something that happened to you years ago, when a few minutes ago you didn't even know it even happened.
Today's titbit was about my Grandfather, which I am utterly convinced is the greatest person to have ever lived. He really was the most amazing creature, and in my eyes, was the definition of character. Let me tell you a little about him.
He was a small, dumpy man... he always wore a checkered cotton coat, and a small brimmed hat of equivilent material. He once built a restaurant/hotel because "it was a good idea at the time".
In times that I had no friends in the world, where people would seem simply greedy and pathetic, there would be my Grampa, above it all, with compassion for everyone.
However, as with all wonderful people, there was a sadder, darker side. He had become addicted to smoking, and through his death, dying of lung/heart cancer, he did begin to lose his wits and sanity, and become less and less of what he was. It was depressing to watch the downfall of the most incredible person on earth, and in a small tribute to him, I've vowed never to smoke in my life, because I know that's what he'll be telling me. Wiping off a few years from the end of your life is one thing, but having to go through so much pain and trouble, not just to yourself, but the ones that love you, is troubling.
The thing I remembered today was one day, when I was taken down to our cycle shop, and told that my Grandfather wanted to speak to me. I didn't know what was going on... it wasn't a special day, just another letter in the sentence of life, as it were.
I await in the office, and in walks my Grampa.
"Ah, there you are. How do you fancy going to an ice cream convention?"
This is why I loved him so much. Things would happen when you were around him that made little or no sense, but seemed so utterly perfect. It was almost like being in a dream...
We journeyed off, and arrived in a large hall, packed with Walls logos all over the place. I was the only child in there... I must have been at least six or so. A six year old child in an ice cream convention.
"Faces to me are useless..." I remember him saying. "It's the voices I concentrate on, I remember them better. Do you find that?"
"No, not really."
"Ah, you will, you will."
We sat down, and listened to a man talking figures and pie charts. I didn't really pay too much attention until he then suddenly announced the new line up of Walls Icecream, and then asked for people to come forward and try the new Icecreams. There was the one that was like a pink foot... and had a chewing gum football attached to it... that's the one I remember most, because it tasted very nice. :0)
I also remember the man giving me a Walls pen too, for getting a question right about the icecream sales. Perhaps I was paying attention after all.
I think I can honestly say that I would not be half the person I would be because my Grandfather. He was so utterly inspiring to me... and perhaps, I was inspiring to him. I feel now that I was a sort of escape for him, away from the life of cigarettes and business, just becoming a kid again and going to Ice Cream Conventions.
I miss him dearly, but I know if he was still alive, or just looking down, or even up, on me now, I know he'll be proud of who I am.
Keeping in tradition with making the topic actually have a lot to do with the title, I ask you now to talk about your own idols, if you have any, or if not, do you feel stronger without them? Is God your idol? Why?
Discuss. :0)
The Decoy wrote:
> Umm.. I know this sounds silly but:
Everyone
I respect other people no
> matter of their age, race, height weight, any disabilities
I hope people
> respect me in the same way too
Heh, that's a nice view to have.
If only everybody was the same.
> Umm.. I know this sounds silly but:
Everyone
I respect other people no
> matter of their age, race, height weight, any disabilities
I hope people
> respect me in the same way too
Heh, that's a nice view to have.
If only everybody was the same.
That's not silly at all. That's excellent.
Umm.. I know this sounds silly but:
Everyone
I respect other people no matter of their age, race, height weight, any disabilities
I hope people respect me in the same way too
Everyone
I respect other people no matter of their age, race, height weight, any disabilities
I hope people respect me in the same way too
Yeah, too early in the night yet, eh? :0)
Idols?
Nah
People who have influenced me a bit, yes.
There is a difference :)
Not telling you who :P
Nah
People who have influenced me a bit, yes.
There is a difference :)
Not telling you who :P
Bill Hicks.
Obvious answer but it's the truth.
Sure you can take the obvious thing of him being a comic, "He's real funny" and leave it at that.
But if you want to spend the time listening, he becomes a lot more than that.
His underlying theme was one of not fearing death and realising that each person has the potential to achieve whatever idea of heaven they believe right here and now, without waiting for an afterlife to do it.
He was argumentative, loudmouthed,opinionated and fearless.
He stood on stage and took shots at targets everyone hated but few have the courage to vocalise.
If you watch his stuff on video, people like my mum say "Why does he have to be so angry all the time?"
And like Hicks himself says, "That's not anger, that's passion. I have to do this, it just comes out of me. I close my eyes, walk onstage and it goes from there".
A man that did things exactly how he wanted to, without thought of furthering his own career by playing to the room.
And he was one of the funniest people I've ever heard.
To be articulate, angry and funny about it is something I admire. The ability to get a point across with humour makes people accept your ideas better.
And he died at 32.
When he found out about his cancer, he gave away all of his posessions to his friends, phoned everyone he ever knew to say goodbye and convinced his dad to take mushrooms with him.
He came downstairs one morning and said "I've said all I need to now."
And never spoke again until he died 9 days later.
Bill Hicks is my idol, without a question or doubt.
Inspiration, idol and tutor.
My handle "Goatboy" is a nod to him.
Obvious answer but it's the truth.
Sure you can take the obvious thing of him being a comic, "He's real funny" and leave it at that.
But if you want to spend the time listening, he becomes a lot more than that.
His underlying theme was one of not fearing death and realising that each person has the potential to achieve whatever idea of heaven they believe right here and now, without waiting for an afterlife to do it.
He was argumentative, loudmouthed,opinionated and fearless.
He stood on stage and took shots at targets everyone hated but few have the courage to vocalise.
If you watch his stuff on video, people like my mum say "Why does he have to be so angry all the time?"
And like Hicks himself says, "That's not anger, that's passion. I have to do this, it just comes out of me. I close my eyes, walk onstage and it goes from there".
A man that did things exactly how he wanted to, without thought of furthering his own career by playing to the room.
And he was one of the funniest people I've ever heard.
To be articulate, angry and funny about it is something I admire. The ability to get a point across with humour makes people accept your ideas better.
And he died at 32.
When he found out about his cancer, he gave away all of his posessions to his friends, phoned everyone he ever knew to say goodbye and convinced his dad to take mushrooms with him.
He came downstairs one morning and said "I've said all I need to now."
And never spoke again until he died 9 days later.
Bill Hicks is my idol, without a question or doubt.
Inspiration, idol and tutor.
My handle "Goatboy" is a nod to him.
Hmm... Do you mean Meningitous or actually Melingitious?
Anyway... I don't really have an idol, not a proper one anyway. I don't have a role-model, I don't look up to anyone (We are all equal afterall) and there's no one I'd rather be. I'm me, and no amount of wishing can change that. If their is one thing I'd like to be, it's a good father and loving husband... If that ever happens :-)
I'm quite disrespectful of authroity (Again, we are all equal) Not in a rebellious sense, but if someone tells me to do something that they could quite easily do themselves but won't through laziness, I won't. Errr... Not quite sure why i wrote that.
Anyway, I don't have an idol of anykind... And... err... yeah.
Good post by the way.
Anyway... I don't really have an idol, not a proper one anyway. I don't have a role-model, I don't look up to anyone (We are all equal afterall) and there's no one I'd rather be. I'm me, and no amount of wishing can change that. If their is one thing I'd like to be, it's a good father and loving husband... If that ever happens :-)
I'm quite disrespectful of authroity (Again, we are all equal) Not in a rebellious sense, but if someone tells me to do something that they could quite easily do themselves but won't through laziness, I won't. Errr... Not quite sure why i wrote that.
Anyway, I don't have an idol of anykind... And... err... yeah.
Good post by the way.
Funnily its my Grandpa to. I love him to bits and he is so special. He even flew Spitfires in the war. His stories are the best :o)
But with him, he is, up to date sorta thing. I dunno what it is, he is just one of those people you just love and when they die you know you will be empty without them. Well sorta :oP
My memory is the worst, in the world :o)
But with him, he is, up to date sorta thing. I dunno what it is, he is just one of those people you just love and when they die you know you will be empty without them. Well sorta :oP
My memory is the worst, in the world :o)
I have a very bad memory... hang on. I better just warn you that this is going to be about several different things, and I'm going to have trouble making it smoothly link altogether. Just a warning.
As I was writing.
I have a very bad memory. When I was either 7 or 9 years old, ironically enough I can't remember which, I was struck down with that hidious to spell thing called melingitious. Don't worry, this isn't one of those horrible "I nearly died, I'm so lucky" things. I'm just raising the point, because that's about where I lost nearly all of my memory. This will be important later.
I went shopping in Swansea again today, finishing off my Christmas shopping. And, as shopping goes, there were of course the bands happily playing in the cold. One, indoors, were playing all the Christmas songs, and the second one, outdoors, were playing some excellent jazz stuff. I stood and led the clapping at one point. Great stuff.
But as I was inside picking up presents for friends, [After just texting my best friend to find out what his girlfriend's bra size was, and then bursting out in laughter in Dixons after getting the hate filled reply back], I suddenly noticed how all the shoppers were going around in pairs... people kissing, hugging, and holding hands. The only thing I had in my hand was a Woolworths bag with presents, cards, and cheap books bought from 'charity' workers. It's a problem I have, I'll probably write about it another time.
And then I suddenly felt very lonely. We Three Kings of Orient Ar, or whatever it is, started rewriting itself in my head. So depressing, underdressing, I'll think I'll go sit in the car.
And now I can tell you why I wrote that bit about my memory. You see, for some odd reason, whenever I'm feeling down, something suddenly returns to my memory, as if my mind was trying to cheer me up, as it were.
It's quite amazing to suddenly be able to recall every single detail about something that happened to you years ago, when a few minutes ago you didn't even know it even happened.
Today's titbit was about my Grandfather, which I am utterly convinced is the greatest person to have ever lived. He really was the most amazing creature, and in my eyes, was the definition of character. Let me tell you a little about him.
He was a small, dumpy man... he always wore a checkered cotton coat, and a small brimmed hat of equivilent material. He once built a restaurant/hotel because "it was a good idea at the time".
In times that I had no friends in the world, where people would seem simply greedy and pathetic, there would be my Grampa, above it all, with compassion for everyone.
However, as with all wonderful people, there was a sadder, darker side. He had become addicted to smoking, and through his death, dying of lung/heart cancer, he did begin to lose his wits and sanity, and become less and less of what he was. It was depressing to watch the downfall of the most incredible person on earth, and in a small tribute to him, I've vowed never to smoke in my life, because I know that's what he'll be telling me. Wiping off a few years from the end of your life is one thing, but having to go through so much pain and trouble, not just to yourself, but the ones that love you, is troubling.
The thing I remembered today was one day, when I was taken down to our cycle shop, and told that my Grandfather wanted to speak to me. I didn't know what was going on... it wasn't a special day, just another letter in the sentence of life, as it were.
I await in the office, and in walks my Grampa.
"Ah, there you are. How do you fancy going to an ice cream convention?"
This is why I loved him so much. Things would happen when you were around him that made little or no sense, but seemed so utterly perfect. It was almost like being in a dream...
We journeyed off, and arrived in a large hall, packed with Walls logos all over the place. I was the only child in there... I must have been at least six or so. A six year old child in an ice cream convention.
"Faces to me are useless..." I remember him saying. "It's the voices I concentrate on, I remember them better. Do you find that?"
"No, not really."
"Ah, you will, you will."
We sat down, and listened to a man talking figures and pie charts. I didn't really pay too much attention until he then suddenly announced the new line up of Walls Icecream, and then asked for people to come forward and try the new Icecreams. There was the one that was like a pink foot... and had a chewing gum football attached to it... that's the one I remember most, because it tasted very nice. :0)
I also remember the man giving me a Walls pen too, for getting a question right about the icecream sales. Perhaps I was paying attention after all.
I think I can honestly say that I would not be half the person I would be because my Grandfather. He was so utterly inspiring to me... and perhaps, I was inspiring to him. I feel now that I was a sort of escape for him, away from the life of cigarettes and business, just becoming a kid again and going to Ice Cream Conventions.
I miss him dearly, but I know if he was still alive, or just looking down, or even up, on me now, I know he'll be proud of who I am.
Keeping in tradition with making the topic actually have a lot to do with the title, I ask you now to talk about your own idols, if you have any, or if not, do you feel stronger without them? Is God your idol? Why?
Discuss. :0)
As I was writing.
I have a very bad memory. When I was either 7 or 9 years old, ironically enough I can't remember which, I was struck down with that hidious to spell thing called melingitious. Don't worry, this isn't one of those horrible "I nearly died, I'm so lucky" things. I'm just raising the point, because that's about where I lost nearly all of my memory. This will be important later.
I went shopping in Swansea again today, finishing off my Christmas shopping. And, as shopping goes, there were of course the bands happily playing in the cold. One, indoors, were playing all the Christmas songs, and the second one, outdoors, were playing some excellent jazz stuff. I stood and led the clapping at one point. Great stuff.
But as I was inside picking up presents for friends, [After just texting my best friend to find out what his girlfriend's bra size was, and then bursting out in laughter in Dixons after getting the hate filled reply back], I suddenly noticed how all the shoppers were going around in pairs... people kissing, hugging, and holding hands. The only thing I had in my hand was a Woolworths bag with presents, cards, and cheap books bought from 'charity' workers. It's a problem I have, I'll probably write about it another time.
And then I suddenly felt very lonely. We Three Kings of Orient Ar, or whatever it is, started rewriting itself in my head. So depressing, underdressing, I'll think I'll go sit in the car.
And now I can tell you why I wrote that bit about my memory. You see, for some odd reason, whenever I'm feeling down, something suddenly returns to my memory, as if my mind was trying to cheer me up, as it were.
It's quite amazing to suddenly be able to recall every single detail about something that happened to you years ago, when a few minutes ago you didn't even know it even happened.
Today's titbit was about my Grandfather, which I am utterly convinced is the greatest person to have ever lived. He really was the most amazing creature, and in my eyes, was the definition of character. Let me tell you a little about him.
He was a small, dumpy man... he always wore a checkered cotton coat, and a small brimmed hat of equivilent material. He once built a restaurant/hotel because "it was a good idea at the time".
In times that I had no friends in the world, where people would seem simply greedy and pathetic, there would be my Grampa, above it all, with compassion for everyone.
However, as with all wonderful people, there was a sadder, darker side. He had become addicted to smoking, and through his death, dying of lung/heart cancer, he did begin to lose his wits and sanity, and become less and less of what he was. It was depressing to watch the downfall of the most incredible person on earth, and in a small tribute to him, I've vowed never to smoke in my life, because I know that's what he'll be telling me. Wiping off a few years from the end of your life is one thing, but having to go through so much pain and trouble, not just to yourself, but the ones that love you, is troubling.
The thing I remembered today was one day, when I was taken down to our cycle shop, and told that my Grandfather wanted to speak to me. I didn't know what was going on... it wasn't a special day, just another letter in the sentence of life, as it were.
I await in the office, and in walks my Grampa.
"Ah, there you are. How do you fancy going to an ice cream convention?"
This is why I loved him so much. Things would happen when you were around him that made little or no sense, but seemed so utterly perfect. It was almost like being in a dream...
We journeyed off, and arrived in a large hall, packed with Walls logos all over the place. I was the only child in there... I must have been at least six or so. A six year old child in an ice cream convention.
"Faces to me are useless..." I remember him saying. "It's the voices I concentrate on, I remember them better. Do you find that?"
"No, not really."
"Ah, you will, you will."
We sat down, and listened to a man talking figures and pie charts. I didn't really pay too much attention until he then suddenly announced the new line up of Walls Icecream, and then asked for people to come forward and try the new Icecreams. There was the one that was like a pink foot... and had a chewing gum football attached to it... that's the one I remember most, because it tasted very nice. :0)
I also remember the man giving me a Walls pen too, for getting a question right about the icecream sales. Perhaps I was paying attention after all.
I think I can honestly say that I would not be half the person I would be because my Grandfather. He was so utterly inspiring to me... and perhaps, I was inspiring to him. I feel now that I was a sort of escape for him, away from the life of cigarettes and business, just becoming a kid again and going to Ice Cream Conventions.
I miss him dearly, but I know if he was still alive, or just looking down, or even up, on me now, I know he'll be proud of who I am.
Keeping in tradition with making the topic actually have a lot to do with the title, I ask you now to talk about your own idols, if you have any, or if not, do you feel stronger without them? Is God your idol? Why?
Discuss. :0)