The Question of Image, Still on my Mind.

IMAGE
The opinion or concept of something that is held by the public.
To be an example or epitome of.
Typify.

     It's only gradually dawned on me that we cultivate an IMAGE, deliberately or otherwise. We 'see' ourselves in a certain way whether we like it or not. Whether this is the same 'image' others see is interesting in itself. What was it Robert Burns said.

O wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as others see us.

'Two 'instances' have recently brought these thoughts to the fore.

    As recorded in my post July 19th my wife and I (sounds very regal) recently bought a new car. Now what are old couples supposed to drive. Years ago proof of arrival would have been owning a Rover. Nowadays geriatrics who have arrived probably own a Volvo or a Lexus; staid, safe, uninspiring, you get the picture. (Expect howls of protest from owners of either, Grumpy!) Part of this train of thought has come about by the young Seat salesman asking us to put in order our rating of six considerations: Performance, Safety, Reliability, Image, Comfort, Economy; we chose IMAGE!

Plus geriatrics are not supposed to be into: bucket seats, tinted windows, spoiler, stripes, sports gearing and suspension; turbo chargers and superchargers. So what did we specify our purchase must have? You've got it: bucket seats, tinted windows, spoiler, stripes, sports gearing and suspension; turbo charger and supercharger.

    Now what does this tell you?  Grumpy is not very keen to accept the limitations of growing old He certainly has no desire to grow old gracefully. He's not too keen on conformity (He never was) and he'll go out of his way to 'buck the system' so to speak. In general, he loves to be different, he has a 'tongue in cheek' somewhat irreverent  view of life and it shows! All very harmless, bordering on daft for daft's sake. In a way it's playing at or up to an IMAGE. Except that this image thing, however subtle, however unconscious is more important than you think.

    I went to a wedding recently. The groom is a military man, a serving soldier; also present were several of his military colleagues. It would be unprofessional to identify them further. They were uniformed, superbly turned out, immaculate men, young yet hardened, seasoned campaigners, men who would be proud to defend you in times of strife. They were lively, noisy at times but no matter, they epitomised the joy of living particularly associated with youth.  And then it all went a little 'haywire' to say the least. The soldiers and friends became involved in a 'drinking contest' that went too far, too long. The competitive drinking of 'shots' (Someone please explain to one old man, what exactly do 'shots' consist of) resulted in one ill, and I mean very ill groom; dangerous in the extreme. Yet no-one in the group itself saw the dangers and attempted to curtail the contest. As a geriatric observer I reckon I know why.

   Its an IMAGE thing. All involved saw themselves as 'macho', individuals, male of course, answerable to no-one. Part and parcel of an elite group within society, invincible and so on.  (the regiment's motto suggesting invincibility was uttered whenever a participant struggled to complete the 'downing' of yet another 'shot'.) All totally insane yet understandable to this old bystander.  In other words, the participants of such a sad pastime were merely conforming to the IMAGE they believed was expected of them.

    I am lucky enough to have followers from all over the world. And I bet you they all are have image 'problems' to a greater or lesser degree. A member of the WI or Mothers Union? Do you see yourself as an upstanding member of your community; useful, hardworking, caring and compassionate? Or maybe you are a councillor, or even a county councillor. Someone everyone looks up to, someone who is important and has definitely 'arrived'. You might be a member of the professions,  in which case you probably don't even have to try, you already are sure of your personal superiority. Pity the poor devil who digs holes in the road for a living. He's probably one of the best blokes in the world and nobody notices.

    People are strange in the extreme and not always funny ha ha with it. I have a cousin who I seldom see. For years whenever I met him, usually at family functions, his first question to me was 'How much do you earn.' How strange is that! I  knew of a young man from a poor part of Derby who moved to a nicer area a few miles out of town. One of his first actions on moving was to step outside his new house and offer to fight anyone in his new neighbourhood. I have a friend from the 'south' who, of an evening,  changes clothes before sitting down for an evening meal. (I realise that commenting on such things makes 'us up north' seem working class in the extreme but I suspect remnants of the class system and all that means are still firmly with us.) 

    We all adhere to an IMAGE whether we like it or not. So how do you see yourself? And do you like what you see? But more important, how do others see you? 

When Times are Hard, Find a Distraction.

    Its been a torrid year, at least from a health point of view. What with my wife being diagnosed with glaucoma and having a stent fitted, my replacement knee making only slow, painful progress and my 'dodgy heart' syndrome; as Victoria might say, 'We are not amused.'

    I don't know about you all, but we find we need a distraction when times are rough. Our old car is fifteen years old, money is sitting doing nothing under the bed, large white fivers  and there are no pockets in shrouds so an attractive distraction was mooted. Lets buy a new car!

    Now I'm seventy three, have never bought a new car in my entire life and am not renowned for spending so everyone and his dog were most surprised. Particularly my daughter Alison, who views her fast diminishing inheritance with less than childlike approval. But who nevertheless likes her ageing parents to be happy; when I'm less than grumpy, the family is happy! Thus began a fascinating few weeks.

When I was young and single, I was into Cooper S's, bucket seats, spoilers and the like. I was also into traffic police disapproval, cautions, tickets and youthful rebellion. Then I got married and was into bringing up children, Mosvich cars and poverty and hand me down clothing. (I did think of registering my family as a charity.)

    'In the country of the blind the one eyed man is king.' H G Wells. The last few weeks remind me of this saying so much. I first posted concerning buying a new car on the 26th June. Next Tuesday we fetch our new vehicle. Hallelujah!!! Not bad going for two somewhat clueless geriatrics! We visited showrooms. We viewed cars at the bottom end of the market, Skodas, fine, nearly purchased, to Lexus, expensive, ok, but somehow not really 'us'. We were blinded by science, bombarded with figures (the going rate for discounts would appear to be around 8%.) Everyman and his dog (Yes the same dog that was surprised at our rash spending) gave us advice. Which of course we in the main ignored as is our style! Anyway, the die is cast, the deed is done. We fetch our new motor on Tuesday, God and the manufacturers willing. So what have we purchased. Watch this space!