The Illusion…
Every now and again, when drifting off in to that universal place that isn’t quite sleep and isn’t quite made up of sensical thought, I end up reminiscing about things from my childhood. This happened to me just now (just after thoughts of ’why is the bum bag such a hallowed thing in Germany?’): I was thinking about those salt and shake crisps you used to get–the ones where you yourself got to salt your own crisps!
How brilliant?
In a time before driving, adulthood and decision making, having my own little packet which contained salt was a big deal for me (and I still like to partake in a bit of this whenever I get a chance, it has to be said). At this young age my father used to tell me that I was “the chosen one” and that not every little boy got a small blue bag in his packet of crisps. No, I was indeed ’special’.
Years later I would discover that, alas, I was no more special than about a million other very ordinary children, but still, the illusion wasn’t ruined. I still look back upon opening up my first bag of salt and shake crisps with the same awe and wonder that Charlie did when he came across his amazing golden ticket.
Praise the little things, that’s what I say. The little things are just as important as the bigger things, and I think us as a civilization would do well to remember that.
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