Saturday, 21 May 2016

Mail order blues

Yesterday a little catalogue fell out of the newspapers. It was packed with gadgets of all kinds: a plastic pet step to help geriatric dogs on to the sofa; a special extendable brush for deep-cleaning wheelie bins; endless ingenious devices for personal organisation; and expandable plastic foliage to hide eyesores and disguise walls.

It was hypnotic and I could not help but flick through it.

But having flicked, I felt suddenly sad and could not figure out why. 

Maybe it reminded me of my parents: my father loved gadgets, and my mother liked all sorts of odd knick-knacks. Maybe it seemed, without saying so, to be aimed at those on the cusp of decrepitude, camped now on the borders of age and robbed of the ability to do ordinary things. For them, opening cans now a long forgotten and much-missed everyday ability.

Perhaps it was the thought of my own advancing age when even my already ancient cat will need a set of steps to ascend to comfort.

I was unnerved by the ambition of having the cleanest wheelie bin on the street, and realised I had never considered this a concern. Suddenly the thought came of hordes of casual observers on the pavement, checking all the local bins to ensure that their own still held the title, their lives as empty as their sparkling bins.

I don't want to disparage the collected and hugely well-intentioned items on sale. Some were a bit tacky, some a little flimsily made. Some were just not to my taste, as twee isn't really my ballpark.

They just felt almost unbearably sad to me, and I felt very deflated after my idle flicking through.

Suddenly I wondered which items would have tempted Beethoven, Wittgenstein, Anais Nin and Sappho. It was hard to imagine them rushing out to the post to see if their latest acquisition had arrived yet: an extendable arm for changing light bulbs, or a bath mat disguised as pebbles.

Having Aspergers, I am never part of any crowd, love my own tacky bright ideas, and sometimes my emotional reactions are a mystery to me. 

I still feel improbably sad. I still don't quite understand why.

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