the delusions of adequacy may not be so delusional after all…
…they say there are three stages in the Life of Man… childhood,adulthood, and ‘my WURD, ye are looking well‘… some even aver that the grand old age of 60 is ‘the new 40′… shuffle it as I may, there’s no escaping the evidence on the passport… this ol’ Jurassic’s early years encompassed the miracle of music that was the BEATLES and all the trillions of beat groups that sprung up on the back of their phenomenal success (we didn’t call them ‘bands’ back then)… I was a teenager when the moment struck, known as ‘where were you when JFK, etc’... when soccer player transfers and baseball team salaries didn’t cost the price of the Gross National Product of medium-sized countries… and when ye had to move off yer seat to change a television channel… so, I’ve been around a wee while now… in a varied career in the financial WURLD, my job description changed several times… it began as a scruffy lowest-of-the-low bank clerk, metamorphing into an even scruffier bank officer, then onto a life as a corporate trouble-shooting for the best part of 30 years… before reverting back to what it was originally… a scruffy banker… a bit greyer, but not necessarily wiser (just ask Matron around here)… it seldom occurred to me to label myself in any designated career slot… I was having a grand time just earning (and spending) whatever bits of money came my way… the throwaway response line when asked at cocktail parties ,‘what do you do?’ used to be ‘about what?’ … I cared not a jot for a job title, nor recognition as anything but a bloke WURKING for his living… I let others tag me as they saw fit… then, just sometimes, there’d be a tiny nagging tug at the back of the mind, that somehow p’raps I was suffering from delusions of adequacy… today, all that is gone… dispelled… all doubts shot down gloriously… here’s why… I stepped into an elevator at a local shopping mall today, in the company of a half a dozen others, all unknown to me… a youngish man, with a chortling little daughter in his arms looked at me, caught my eye and said in a voice that everyone could hear …‘you’re that author fella, aren’t you?…’ … I resisted the unseemly act of kissing the guy… I merely smiled and nodded, …‘sort of…’, I replied… ‘SORT OF??!!SORT OF??!! YEAH! I’M THAT AUTHOR FELLA!!!’, my innards wanted to shout… the delusions have faded… recognition... what more wonderful miracle to acknowledge?… and the realization hit me… his comment pleased me so much, because prob’ly all my life this MUST have been what I’ve wanted to be, an author… that young man will never know what a gift he gave me today… LUV YEEZ… now get about yer business, here comes Matron with that syringe…
By Seumas Gallacher
Follow Seumas on Twitter:@seumasgallacher
