ON BEING UGLY

The British, on holiday, are strange animals, or so it seems to me. They enjoy going to a different country because it is “different”. On the other hand, when they arrive at their destination they expect it to be the same as what they have “escaped” from. I cannot say this is schizophrenic but this obvious dichotomy of departing from the usual and arriving at the unusual does require some mental gymnastics – but few have the skills or desires to perform this feat. As a result, when they return home and are asked for their views their response(s) can be refined down to a mere few words that gives the questioner no insight at all, along the lines of:

‘nice place; pity about the people – they’re not like us”

Even more horrifying are the British on holiday in their own country. In this instance, their attitudes change and become:

‘I have paid good money to be in your town. Therefore, I shall enjoy

myself how I want and you will NOT complain about my behaviour,

even though it may be anti-social in the extreme, as I have paid you!’

Now, I realise I am generalising and stereotyping, but when you have to live with such attitudes there comes a time when all you wish for is every British holiday-maker to just send us the money and stay home! I call them “uglies” – ugly to look at, ugly in speech, ugly in attitude…

But the thought occurs that “they” may see me as a lumbering old fool. ‘Lumbering’ I am not as I regard myself as active both physically and mentally; as regards ‘old’ I would say this glorious blue planet of ours has made 70 revolutions of its sun whilst giving me a ride on it. Old to me is not years, but mentality. A fool? Subjectively, I would say no more nor no less foolish than any other biped extant. But that IS subjective!

So how do I view myself? Well, I find I have more in common with the peoples of other countries that I do with those of my own.

Am I weird?

Until next time (and living strong),

Peripatetic Scribe