I received a vindication of sorts this past weekend.
Imagine the scene: a well-stocked wine and cheese section of a local market. I was there to load up on some provisions in preparation for a blonde bombshell cougar who was scheduled to take up residence at La Estancia de LBF for the night. More on her, later.
Cute housewives in yoga pants and ponytails dotted the place, indulging as they do in inane chatter. I saw out of the corner of my eye a shapely young blonde filly standing several yards away. Over a fine selection of aged Stilton I noticed she kept half-looking over her left shoulder in my direction. As I neared she turned and grinned at me and opened her mouth as if to say something, at which moment I realised she was the very girl with whom I broke up last summer. And she had clearly gained weight.
I walked past her in that confident, knowing, slightly cocky manner I have naturally developed over the last fifteen years or so, and which a few of my girlfriends have dubbed 'the walk'. (The ladies know what I am referring to). When one must quickly exit an awkward situation I find it is best to do so in as dignified a manner as possible.
My late father always said I had a cruel streak a mile wide. I am afraid he did not know the half of it, poor chap. Certainly it is a quality I have striven to live down to. But I like to think that what he perceived as mere cruelty is actually disregard, or contempt. And God knows there is an awful lot these days to be contemptuous of.
The modern world, I think, is an inadequate place. The standard wages of success are simply not enough. I discard beautiful women, such as my ex-girlfriend and first wife, as if they were candy wrappers. After all, there is always another one around the corner. It is a system, you see. And then at the end of it all one dies--alone, if need be, which they tell me is a bad thing and something to avoid, but I am not so certain. Death is over-rated. Do not misunderstand me. I am very grateful for the kind of life I have been granted. I enjoy it as best I can, which is to say a lot, and what is more I enjoy sharing it with you here. And yet, something is missing.
I am reminded as I often am of the verse I once saw in a copy of the magazine Pflug und Speer when I was a little boy:
Den Kramern lasst ihr Gold
Den Ruhm den Schlächtern
Bekkent Euch zu den Verächtern
Die schwertlos ringen um den Hohen Preis
Leave the gold to the merchants
And glory to the warriors
Become one of the scorners who fight
For the highest prize
What is the prize? And how does one achieve it?