For reasons of onomatopoeia
Why, You Dirty Double Crosser…
Most days, I walk from my home to the office where I write (or fail to write), and back again. It’s about a mile and a half, and just before my office, I have to cross a main road. There are two ways to do this. There’s a crossing place, but the traffic has priority, so you have to wait for a gap. You rarely have to wait long. Alternatively, there’s a footbridge, but it takes you a little out of your way. Ok, you’re looking baffled. I’ll show you.
Got it? So, which would you choose? There’s no wrong answer, really, is there? Just depends how you feel about climbing gentle gradients versus briefly waiting for cars. Both perfectly justifiable. But what I do, I realised today, is: every morning, I go over the bridge, and every evening I cross the road.
Now, that’s what I wrote yesterday, and then some stuff about what an illogical idiot I am and the power of habit. But this morning, I thought I’d cross at the crossing, in case it gave me a punchline, like being knocked down by a bus. And unexpectedly, it did, (though not that one) because to my surprise I found that I really didn’t want to use the crossing, and I also knew exactly why not.
As it turns out, in the morning, by the time I get to the road, I’ve been walking for a mile and a half and I’m in a rhythm. Also, with any luck, I’m deep in the train of thought which is part of the point of the walk anyway. My subconscious feels there is no cost at all to a slight detour and a mild gradient; but it definitely doesn’t want to break my pace or my train of thought to wait for traffic. It feels natural and obvious to use the bridge.
But on the way home, I’ve only just started walking, and my mind is a glorious blank. My subconscious feels there is no cost at all to a couple of brief pauses in my walk; but it definitely doesn’t want to traipse over a bridge. It feels natural and obvious to use the crossing.
So, now what’s my point? I almost certainly don’t have one. If I was feeling despondent I might say it shows how little we understand the reasons for our decisions if we don’t examine them (or rather how little I understand- you, of course, are a model of thoughtful self-awareness.) If I were feeling chipper, I might say that it indicates my subconscious is not quite such a fool as I take it for, so maybe I should trust my instincts more. But as it happens, I’m feeling somewhere in the middle, so I needn’t say anything.
Luckily, this morning my language learning app prepared me for exactly this eventuality.
News and Ads
Souvenir Programme. Don’t worry, I’m not going to pester you to come to any more try-outs. Not this year, anyway. Because it’s now fully tried out, and indeed written, recorded and edited, and will be going out on Radio 4 at 14.15 next Monday, 27th May. And then be around on BBC Sounds whenever you fancy it. Hope you like it.
Ludlow Fringe. Finally, a live performance not in London to announce! On June 20th, I’ll be doing a live two-person sketch show with one member of the Souvenir Programme cast, as part of the excellent Ludlow Fringe. Mostly my favourite monologues and two-handers from ten years of Souvenir Programme, but a couple of new ones too. If it goes well, I hope we’ll book in some more dates for it in the autumn. If not… then this is your one chance to see it!
Promenade. Also, I’m in a film. I know, I’m as surprised as you are. Don’t know when it’ll be out yet, but it was lots of fun. I got to idolise Doon Mackichan, and have feathers put in my hair.
Churchill requires his Klop
From Churchill: Walking with Destiny by Andrew Roberts, via my friend Andrew Wilson. Thank you, Andrews.
She recalled the time he had commanded [his secretary] Kathleen Hill, ‘Fetch me Klop.’ Hill proudly struggled back some time later bearing Professor Onno Klopp’s fourteen volumes of Der Fall des Hauses Stuart und die Succession des Hauses Hannover (1875-88). ‘God Almighty!’ Churchill roared. He had meant her to bring his hole-puncher, which he nicknamed ‘Klop’ for reasons of onomatopoeia.
Commentary Box
Rachael Birchall says, very kindly,
The uncertainty of the frequency lends a pleasingly random element to the joy with which your missives are received. Can we think of you as a fog bound Airport uncertain when the inspirational of the next plane will arrive?
I mean, you certainly can, because that is an extraordinarily accurate description, as you have seen these past few weeks. So much so, I’m tempted to rename this thing ‘Fog Bound Airport’…
Sketch Book
I tried drawing some cars in the time they were at the lights, and as if I didn’t know what they were. It was surprisingly fun.
Love,
The Airport.
Yellow car.
I had to like it as you quoted me, which I think is all part of a cunning algorithm swindle!