Well, happy birthday to me! I just came back from my birthday lunch and I’m stuffed! I actually got given a plant! I’m staring at it in mild bemusement and hoping I don’t kill the poor thing. I took a photo of the rest of my presents earlier, all bought for me, by me and you could be forgiven for thinking that the haul of geekery was intended for someone half my age, possibly younger. I do wonder sometimes if there is a version of me in a parallel universe somewhere, one who wasn’t dragged about as an afterthought as a child who went into the family business as a plumber, all arsenal tattoos and Saturday afternoons full of beer and football. I wonder what he got for his birthday, pants and socks off the teenage children and maybe some grudging birthday sex from his wife.
I wonder what that Chris would make of what I got myself? Probably not much. But then again, that’s exactly what I’d think of his gifts. Mind you, sex would be nice. A birthday is always nicer for having a bit of howsyerfather in it somewhere. It may not seem like it, but there is a logical explanation for everything I bought myself. T shirts are always handy and don’t need ironing, the Japanese model kits are like mindfulness colouring but much cooler and the murakami art book is excellent reference, plus it gives me something to aspire to. Although to be fair, I have no excuse for Mario Amiibo , although it has unlocked a rather snazzy new outfit for my Nintendo avatar.
I feel that there is an important distinction between people who are childlike and people would are childish and I am always warey that when new people come into my world and see all the things with big eyes, the robots and brightly coloured stuff, that they make the distinction between the two.
Childish people are a nightmare, they are jealous, they tell lies and they do things with little concern for the consequences of their actions. They do things on the spur of the moment regardless of what will happen in the long run and they will happily tell numerous people exactly what they want to hear regardless of the damage it will cause because there is only that very moment and nothing beyond it. Childish people have a desperate need for attention and to be liked, they do anything they can to make themselves popular, all it achieves in the end is that you get liked by those you are useful to in the shallowest of terms and everyone else thinks that you are a bit of a saddo. Childish people leave a trail of chaos behind them as they try and juggle all the whims they have and all the promises that they have made. Eventually , all their nonsense catches up with them and everyone suffers. Childish people make no one happy, not even themselves.
Being childlike is totally different, you retain a sense of wonder in the world around you, be it rainbows, shapes in clouds,the way sunlight hits water or simply a cool breeze of a hot day. Childlike is endless fascination, wanting to know the reasons for things, an endless stream of whys and what ifs. Being childlike is being honest and having a defined sense of what is right and what is wrong, what is fair and unfair and the inabilty to accept any of the murky crap that comes with having to make compromises and tolerate shitty people. Childlike is a thing of the essential rightness of things whereas childish is petty and nasty, sneaky and wrong.
So now I shall spend the rest of the anniversary of my forty seventh year on this wonderful planet watching Netflix, looking through my posh picture book and making one of my master grade gundam models while the world outside gets on with its nasty petty crap.
Happy birthday to me!