Teaching swimming is brilliant. If you talk to me for more than an hour I'll probably have brought it up somewhere along the line. If you're one of my closer friends you're probably getting sick of me talking about it. Dealing with snot-nosed little kids though, is just great fun, fulfilling, almost satisfying work. I can hardly apologise for talking about something I enjoy!
One thing that's just strange, though, is when parents start taking photos! Just the thought of being in some family's photo album... it weirds me out a little. Often, I start thinking "what are they going to say about me when they look back at the photos?". Sometimes, the parents even turn out with camcorders to make a video of their little Minnie, Winnie, Winston, Newton or Priscilla! Though now I come to think of it, it is a pretty good opportunity for an action snap for posterity, is it really that important?
The vanity of people! The things people want photos of. The things people want to remember. Or are there other reasons why mundane occasions come to seem so important. Groups of girls get ready to go out, they take photos; they hop on the train on the way to the club, they take photos; they arrive at the club, they take photos; later, they post them on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter (can you post photos on Twitter?), Flickr. Perhaps they want the photos so they can piece together the events of the previous night. Or maybe they're just vain enough to want to let the world know that they went out, that they go out, that they have a life.
I don't want to come across as too cynical about humankind, and our obsession with heralding the "occasions". In fact I prefer to look upon these awkward moments in amusement. We are all human, why attempt to suppress that? Why lament what's at our core? The fact is that NO ONE really cares that you were at the Löwenbraü on Friday night and that you drank German beer and that you were with that blonde you've been eyeing. But instead of debasing you, they can still laugh quietly to themselves at the fact that you found the need to take those photos and definitely at the way you pose with your stein while pushed up next to the lovely lady. That's what I choose to do, anyway.
Hence, I have no shame in posting the following photos here. They nod at those god-awful, tediously boring articles in the likes of Sunday Life where some old-timer reminisces about the great time he had on his summer vacation all those years ago. I know you don't really care about where I went, how I enjoyed myself or whether I might like to go again. But don't get depressed about it! I urge you to smile to yourself smugly at the things I thought "important", the things I wanted to remember. The things I've chosen for you to see.
Ah, the middle way. Choosing not to lament that which is ingrained in human nature (and therefore that which is unavoidable). I must be mellowing in the twilight of my teens, shedding the pretension of my past. Well... to an extent! I think it's pretty safe to suggest that I too am both a wanker and just another vain, pretentious bastard. Why else would I spend my time writing such a thing as this blog?
1 comments:
Can't really post photos on twitter, just links to photos.
The twit don't work like that.
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