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As we get older and become more like the dads we wanted or hoped to be (settled, reliable, maybe a tad boring?..) there are far fewer things now that give us enjoyment apart from family and friends.
The children naturally become more independent and less reliant on their parents, and our friends are generally so wound up in the same vortex of responsibility, work, elderly parents that they too become numb to the little things that used to make us happy.
We may try alternative remedies like mindfulness or physical activities like the gym or running to try and settle our befuddled brains, which provide a temporary relief from the day-to-day monotony. Soon after we may feel that Ground Hog Day feeling that we smile through coming back into our lives and we then accept it and carry on.
There have been in my life two fleeting situations where all was well and both have made me feel more happy and content above and beyond that provided by our family and friends.
Many years ago as a young child, I used to pull wheelies on my bike trying to impress our neighbor who was cleaning a car with the same love and cherish as a young father and his child. One day he let me sit in the car and I revved the engine with glee laughing out loud at the sound of the engines change in pitch and the vibrations of a beast being harnessed against its will.
This was a Triumph TR6 1970 2.5pi in Triumph Blue.
Many, many years later—25 to be precise—I had a call from my father with the news that the neighbor’s car was up for sale after he had been recently made redundant and to call round to negotiate a price. This I did immediately and for 10 years following I was the proud owner of this beautiful beast.
You do not need to drive a car you own that is your ‘pride and joy’. It is a pure unadulterated pleasure just to watch and admire. With a classic car it is about its shapes and curves, the history and smells that permeate from inside its handcrafted interior.
I sold the car shortly after my children arrived and we needed to extend our kitchen, so our garage became an Aladdin’s cave of kids weapons designed to scratch and destroy my car.
Fast forward 7 years and the children have grown to a size where we could own a dog. Not any dog but a Boxer complete with barrel rolled chest and Fugly Face (Ferking ugly!). This was a creature who could make you laugh and smile just by being in the same room with you. Unfortunately, he also could empty the same room shortly after with a silent bowel movement and if left alone too long would use your furniture as fast food.
He ‘got under’ all of our families skin and became one of us featuring prominently in most of our family photos and us rearranging our annual foreign sunny holidays for a UK ‘ dog-friendly’ (smelly) cottage by the sea with a dog-friendly beach.
Benson the Boxer sadly died too early after complications with a brain tumor.
Devastated, we have not been able to replace this crazy mutt but, with time, we are now discussing getting a rescue dog, which must have all the genes of a mutated alien so he will be robust and even more Fuglier. The ultimate goal for myself would be too have both in our lives.
I have recently managed to acquire an Mk1 MX5 in racing green, not quite a pure classic and for some a ‘classic’ hairdresser’s car (sorry if you are actually a hairdresser we need you!) But it still puts a smile on my face with the top down zipping through the English countryside ignoring the twat behind me trying to get past and ruin my smile.
Both of these have given me immense pleasure over and beyond any other material possessions even with the time, cost and dedication required of both.
Am I ready for the next stage of comfortable slippers and taking up a hobby (anyone for Fishing?..) or should I rebel against this seemingly natural progression we take in life?
I know which one makes sense, do you?
Now I must dash as I need to get my haircut!.
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