I have pondered this fame 'thingymagig' all week. Then a strange thing happened. I was at a Derby County football match recently. Now there's a famous club for you, one of the original twelve in the English Football League, dating back to 1888-1889. Suddenly a loud voice called out a man's name and around eighteen thousand people home supporters started clapping; they clapped for around a minute and the away supporters joined in. Who were they clapping for? Was it David Cameron, Nelson Mandela or Prince William. None of these, the applause was for Mr Douglas Else who died last week, aged eighty six.
Affectionately known as 'Badge Man', Douglas attended Derby County home and away matches for many, many years. In a wheelchair in later years, pushed by his son, Steven he was instantly recognisable. For he was adorned by Derby County badges, from head to foot, an estimated 800 in number. Perhaps a strange thing to do, but a harmless hobby that gave no doubt gave pleasure to all who met him, however fleetingly over the years.
It set me thinking for many reasons. Douglas will be remembered for his devotion to Derby County and his extraordinary collection. I doubt that he sought fame but many of us would like to be remembered after we have gone.
What are you going to leave behind. (I reckon there's a book in everyone waiting to get out; if I can do it, anyone can.) What will you be remembered for. It doesn't have to be massive or magical. Being a 'nice' human being would literally be nice. What would you like as your epitaph. Are you going to leave anything spiritual or perhaps material. Or don't you like to think about it.
Concerning fame, beware, just two thoughts that caught my eye.
Men's fame is like their hair, which grows after they are dead, and with just as little use.
Fame always melts like ice cream in the dish.