It’s Probably Me

This morning, I’m sitting at the traffic lights at the end of our road with the youngest. There are two lanes: one is a left filter, one’s a right turn onto the main London to Southend trunk road. Heading towards London is always busy. This morning, the traffic is stationary: sensibly those people heading in that direction leave enough space so when my lights change, there’s space to move forward. However, when the left turn lane’s light goes green, nobody can move out into traffic.

Cue the guy three cars behind me to my left who sits on his horn for 30 seconds. All he can see is a green light. He won’t look ahead, can’t see round the corner I can at stationary traffic. All that his brain registers is that if the light is green, we should go, and clearly the guys in front of him are asleep. I hate to break it to you m8, it isn’t the two guys ahead of you that need a wake up call, IT’S YOU. If all you register is what is happening to you and the Bigger Picture’s somebody else’s problem?

Teen Vogue are totally on the money, plus the people paid to pay attention need a fucking rocket up their backsides as a matter of some urgency.

I still read the Guardian daily, it remains my paper of choice, but when yesterday it did an article on the legal ramifications of watching sexy times videos at work, even I did a double take. This is presumably in response to the revelation that porn is accessed at the Houses of Parliament about 160 times a day. I get the importance of highlighting this stuff but really, truthfully there comes a point where people switch off. If our popular press are responsible for swaying both hearts and minds, I’d like to see less emphasis on the bad stuff and more on the good, being played up for all it is worth. Where are the guys in support of sensible relationships? Why are we not asking people to reconsider how they deal with sexuality out in the open?

Is it British reserve that will finally sink any ability for us to evolve away from commonplace sexual repression over the last X years?

Part of the problem, it appears, is this annoying (and increasing) obsession with the importance of self. Teresa May can’t reshuffle a Cabinet, for instance, because people don’t want the jobs they’re offered. Can you imagine Winston Churchill offering people jobs and them being refused [*] because that wasn’t something that fitted in with the individual’s idea of Government? Mind you, I can’t imagine a Churchill aide being forced to delete thousands of tweets on Social media because they were adversely affecting their current employment… you know, sometimes I wish we could have a state of play where people just stopped deciding they know what you are and simply worried about being a decent human being first and foremost.

I’d love to see the male heroes I love step out of the shadows and support the women they work with just because they deserve it. There doesn’t need to be a hashtag movement, or a photo opportunity at play. Why not just go to the press and say ‘Hi, I’d like to offer support and solidarity here. You don’t need to pay me. I’m not after you plugging a book or my upcoming TV show/film. Here’s some genuine reflections on all this, so that you understand I care and grasp the change in my workplace.’ Most people, lets face it, are only interested in their brand, and the perceived exposure it grants. It’s amazing how much better you feel when that no longer matters, and you just decide to be honest.

Last night, I lost a follower that I’m amazed hung around as long as she did. She and I were about as far apart in politics and outlook as it was possible to get, and there’s been moments when I was convinced we’d part company on far messier battlefields. The straw, in the end, was the truth, one I’d laid out very plainly in my comic strip a couple of hours previously. She asked me a question, I answered with 100% total honesty and BANG she was gone. I don’t have time any more to sugar coat the issues I have or the direction I wish to move in. I no longer need either validation or understanding from people whose reason for being on Social media is to push themselves. I’m not here to help other people get famous. I’m here to be me.

If you don’t like how I do my business, other followers are available.

The fact I care and record all these comings and goings might seem odd or dangerous to some people, but the fact remains there is no fear any more in doing what I feel is right for me. That means not thinking about myself 24/7, looking ahead in the queue to what’s happening, understanding that fear will destroy you if you let it, getting cross at other people’s selfish thoughtlessness and all points in between. In essence, I am the problem that needs constant assessment and reinvention, and if that means you don’t like what I am as a result, that’s not an issue. Once you grasp life is not a popularity contest but an exercise in reassessment and understanding? A lot of stuff really does not matter.

This week is an education, in every sense of the word.

[*] Note to self to spend time today researching Churchill’s cabinet to see if anybody did turn down a job when offered, so there’s something learnt from the experience.