Having registered my first ever e-mail address in 1996, when the best we got was the unnerving clicking, tooting and whistling of our 56k dial-up modems, it's taken me well over a decade to convince myself to start an Internet blog. It would seem that I'm guilty of being somewhat of an e-procrastinator. But why now? Why after 17 years have I finally decided to put fingertips to keys and document my thoughts, feelings, and everything in-between for the world to see? What purpose does it serve? Why bother? I'll get to that, but before I do I guess I'd better offer up a little bit of background on the person behind the blog for the benefit of those that don't know me, or indeed those that think they do but in truth, do not.
I'm an 80's child through and through. I was born and raised in Rowley Regis and I've never really strayed far from the nest, save for the occasional holiday. It's a small, pleasant town on the outskirts of the Birmingham suburbs and a place I'll always have fond memories of. Well, I say pleasant, this is perhaps not so much the case any more, it's not like I remember it when I was a youngling. The evolution of the social hierarchy, changes in behaviour, and modern day trends in what's acceptable and what's 'cool' have changed it somewhat, and not for the better. I'm not sure what's happened over the past decade but it seems that the area is spiralling into turmoil. Unfortunately the same can be said for the whole of the UK, so I suppose it's no real surprise to anyone of my generation or those that came before me who remember how it used to be. This, however, is sure to be the subject of a future blog post, so forgive me for digressing. I'll get back on topic.
My upbringing wasn't an easy ride, not by a long shot. Although as a child I didn't ever live uncomfortably, I never really had what any of the popular kids had. None of the sticker books, the WWF action figures, the Transformers merchandise, or any of the toys that were all the rage back then. None of the cool gadgets and gizmo's that the rest of the kids in the playground would talk about, and none of the brand names that all of the other parents could apparently afford to adorn their trophy children with (it would later emerge that the catalogue society and a willingness for irresponsible adults to get bogged down in debt was to blame). I didn't get my own television until I was 15 and I was never bought a Playstation. Have you got any idea how much kids suffer on the playground when mommy and daddy can't afford the latest trendy 'stuff'? For all of their loveable traits, children can be so unforgivingly cruel within their social circles. I did get my share of hand-me-down Lego and Play-Doh though, and for that I will be eternally grateful.
I've always been well ahead of the curve regarding intelligence, even as a boy. You could have a full blown debate with me at the age of 2, I was capable of long-division by the age of 7, and by the age of 12 I had designed, in full, the blueprints for the extension of what was then our house, which were later used directly by the construction company to build the annexe into which my Nan moved. But what do smarts get you when you're young? Fame? Fortune? No. They get you bullied.
High School was no better, I never made it easy for myself. When you're in the top class in every subject, have a bowl haircut, you aren't exactly the most attractive thing on two legs due to the ravages of puberty and a severe lack of fashion sense, and you write poetry in your spare time, you might as well have a large target painted on your back. There's only so much a person can bottle up before they inevitably have to vent, and it was my parents that got the sharp end of the sword more often than not. While I was a quiet, shy and conservative individual at school, within the confines of my own home I became a person akin to Vicky Pollard - if you don't know who that is, Google is your friend.
Unfortunately, due to a failing marriage my father had a short fuse, at the end of which burned a violent temper. One day during one of my adolescent strops, I pushed him a little too far. My dad is a large man. Not fat, well at least he wasn't back then. A former Rugby player, he cut an imposing silhouette at 17 stone. When you're a frail teenager who's about 10 stone when ringing wet, and a tank of a man decides he's had enough of you, there's only ever going to be one outcome. I lost two teeth that day.
I don't hate my father for what he did. It wasn't right and I know for a fact he's never forgiven himself for it, but the strict discipline of my upbringing has contributed heavily to shaping my personality into my adult life. I wouldn't be the person I am today without the occasional backhand when I stepped out of line, something I believe is now lost to the doldrums of modern day rules and regulations, perhaps not for the better.
My dad has since re-married a wonderful woman who brings out the very best in him, and while I will never have the same kind of temperament as my father once had, I hope that one day I can amount to even half the man he is. He's a legend and a friend and I love him dearly.
It wasn't until about a decade ago that I made a stand, shook off the shackles that had weighed me down throughout my fledgling life, and embraced the person I was meant to be. Out went the shy, quiet, conservative youth, and in came the outgoing, confident person you all know and love today.
I'm not saying that my life has been perfect since this so-called 'phoenix rising'. I've had two long term relationships, both of which have failed and neither of which were anyone's fault other than my own (these will again be the subject of a later blog). I haven't found fame, I haven't made millions of pounds and I've seen good people who are very close to me suffer bad things. Do I like everything that's happened in my life? No I don't. Would I change any of them? I don't think I would. I'm not a believer in everything happening for a reason, I think the notion of 'fate' is a far fetched ideal clung to by those who need to embrace hope to get by, much like followers of religion, and there's nothing wrong with that if it works for you. What I do believe is that it's how we react to the situations we're presented to in life that defines us as people, which finally brings me back full circle to the subject matter of this blog post.
Why start blogging now at the age of 27? Truth be told I've become a victim of what I consider one of the strongest psychological and emotional workings that a human being can ever be subjected to. A phenomenon of sorts that can turn lives around and shape the future for generations to come. I am of course talking about inspiration. I've been inspired - you know who you are, and you may not like it but you too are likely to be the subject of a future blog post.
As for the purpose of the blog? I guess it's just an outlet for my thoughts and feelings, perhaps personal and perhaps based on current world events. I may even take to Facebook to ask the people for a subject matter to explore, who knows? We'll have to wait and see. If nothing else, it'll help me articulate my thoughts and feelings into words, make sense of my life and share the inner workings of my mind with anyone who cares to listen.I can't promise a schedule of regular updates and I can't guarantee that they'll be interesting or enjoyable reads for everyone. They will be portholes into my life that those who stand on their tip-toes and peer into may find intriguing, although I suspect many won't take the time out from their soap opera's, TOWIE or the Jeremy Kyle show to do so, such is the state of our classy Britain.
I'll discontinue my ramblings there. If you managed to read this far then I thank you for your attention and apologise if you feel I've wasted your time - you aren't obliged to come back, but you're very welcome to do so.
Pie out.
No comments:
Post a Comment