why blog now?
I think I was about four when I almost got into my first fight with a complete stranger. Yes, those of you who know me personally might find that hard to believe. "How could this genteel, erudite and very attractive young man possibly have resorted to violence at such a young age?" You are probably asking yourself. "Looking at him now, it is incomprehensible that he was anything but a vision of cherubic beauty and innocence as a child."
Alas, I'm afraid I have to burst your bubble; there is a side of me you never knew. I was pretty much a brat when I was a kid.
So this near incident of infantile fist-a-cuffs (I like using archaic words like that; makes me sound smart) took place at the toy department of some store. I had seen a particular action figurine (I think it was He-Man. Remember him?) that had caught my four-year-old-or-thereabouts fancy and toddled towards it so that I could analyze its safety disclaimer and to ponder which vintage of whine (get it?) I should serve my dad in order to convince him to buy it for me.
Just as I unhooked the package from the the jutting-metal-spoke-holder-thingy that all toy departmental stores, in accordance with governmental safety regulations, place at the direct eye level of small children in order to protect the rest of their bodies if they tripped, another kid appeared.
Now, this kid was about my age. But he was a total dick. Instead of choosing from all the other popular He-Man action figurines that lined the shelves (you remember them: Man-At-Arms, Cyclops, Skeletor, Evilyn, Spongebob, etc.), he came right up to me and tried to snatch the toy I had picked out right out of my hands! Imagine that!
I swear I would have bitch-slapped the little twerp there and then if I had known what a bitch-slap was. Anyway, a miniature tug-of-war ensued and eventually my dad came along and, being a first-time parent who was naturally over-protective of his first-born son, protectively pried the toy out of my hands and gave it to the other kid. With a smile. Now, I don't remember crying much, which you must admit is pretty commendable for a four-year old under such circumstances. Although the bills for the subsequent parent-child therapy sessions did mean that there were no He-Man toys for quite awhile.
You might be wondering where my mum was in all of this. She, a woman of the female gender, having been endowed by thousands of years of evolutionary maternal survivalist instinct, always stayed clear of toy department on our family outings. She strangely always saw something that caught her fancy somewhere else and needed to go check if it was on discount as soon as my eyes caught first sight of Lego blocks. She'd crane her neck and point to something in the distance and tell my dad, "I think they're selling that red blouse cheap. I'd better go take a look." Even though the woman's department was two floors down. She's a wise woman, my mum.
You may now be wondering what this stupid story has to do with why I'm starting a blog. And why on earth you are actually still reading it. I frankly have no idea. I initially wanted to relate how that kid who snatched my toy was merely manifesting the desire that not having what someone else had only makes you want it more, and how all my friends had blogs and therefore I needed one too. But somehow, I got carried away (it was only after putting up a fierce struggle that I was put down) and decided to go with stupid corny humour instead (real life story though).
Truth be told though, this had been a long time in the making. And it was only recently I stumbled across a friend's blog, "where thy eyes shall suffer the sight of such writing as is unfit for thy mortal vision," that I was inspired to do my part for humanity and share a part of me with the world, in literary form. Good writing begets inspiration. So thank you, Youknowwhoyouare.
This blog will not be entirely about *me* though. It will be about *life*, albeit, my take on it, as the name of the blog suggests (Joel=me, Sophy=wisdom. Oh the humility!). It will be a mix of the mundane and the sublime, the random and the ordered. But most importantly, it will be about the things in life that inspire us to be more of who we are. So here I am at last, late to the game, but here nonetheless.
So if you're still reading this, you must be extremely bored, but thank you for taking an interest anyway. I hope to carry on this conversation with you in subsequent posts (see that "Comment" button down there? Use it). Till then, have a good life!
Alas, I'm afraid I have to burst your bubble; there is a side of me you never knew. I was pretty much a brat when I was a kid.
So this near incident of infantile fist-a-cuffs (I like using archaic words like that; makes me sound smart) took place at the toy department of some store. I had seen a particular action figurine (I think it was He-Man. Remember him?) that had caught my four-year-old-or-thereabouts fancy and toddled towards it so that I could analyze its safety disclaimer and to ponder which vintage of whine (get it?) I should serve my dad in order to convince him to buy it for me.
Just as I unhooked the package from the the jutting-metal-spoke-holder-thingy that all toy departmental stores, in accordance with governmental safety regulations, place at the direct eye level of small children in order to protect the rest of their bodies if they tripped, another kid appeared.
Now, this kid was about my age. But he was a total dick. Instead of choosing from all the other popular He-Man action figurines that lined the shelves (you remember them: Man-At-Arms, Cyclops, Skeletor, Evilyn, Spongebob, etc.), he came right up to me and tried to snatch the toy I had picked out right out of my hands! Imagine that!
I swear I would have bitch-slapped the little twerp there and then if I had known what a bitch-slap was. Anyway, a miniature tug-of-war ensued and eventually my dad came along and, being a first-time parent who was naturally over-protective of his first-born son, protectively pried the toy out of my hands and gave it to the other kid. With a smile. Now, I don't remember crying much, which you must admit is pretty commendable for a four-year old under such circumstances. Although the bills for the subsequent parent-child therapy sessions did mean that there were no He-Man toys for quite awhile.
You might be wondering where my mum was in all of this. She, a woman of the female gender, having been endowed by thousands of years of evolutionary maternal survivalist instinct, always stayed clear of toy department on our family outings. She strangely always saw something that caught her fancy somewhere else and needed to go check if it was on discount as soon as my eyes caught first sight of Lego blocks. She'd crane her neck and point to something in the distance and tell my dad, "I think they're selling that red blouse cheap. I'd better go take a look." Even though the woman's department was two floors down. She's a wise woman, my mum.
You may now be wondering what this stupid story has to do with why I'm starting a blog. And why on earth you are actually still reading it. I frankly have no idea. I initially wanted to relate how that kid who snatched my toy was merely manifesting the desire that not having what someone else had only makes you want it more, and how all my friends had blogs and therefore I needed one too. But somehow, I got carried away (it was only after putting up a fierce struggle that I was put down) and decided to go with stupid corny humour instead (real life story though).
Truth be told though, this had been a long time in the making. And it was only recently I stumbled across a friend's blog, "where thy eyes shall suffer the sight of such writing as is unfit for thy mortal vision," that I was inspired to do my part for humanity and share a part of me with the world, in literary form. Good writing begets inspiration. So thank you, Youknowwhoyouare.
This blog will not be entirely about *me* though. It will be about *life*, albeit, my take on it, as the name of the blog suggests (Joel=me, Sophy=wisdom. Oh the humility!). It will be a mix of the mundane and the sublime, the random and the ordered. But most importantly, it will be about the things in life that inspire us to be more of who we are. So here I am at last, late to the game, but here nonetheless.
So if you're still reading this, you must be extremely bored, but thank you for taking an interest anyway. I hope to carry on this conversation with you in subsequent posts (see that "Comment" button down there? Use it). Till then, have a good life!
