sweet, kind, loving, platonic
Still thinking about this Bono/hero worship thing. About guys who are healers, carers, who attract hordes of female devotees*. From all public reports, Bono speaks often and lovingly of his wife, and I notice this quality amongst some of the particularly kind/platonic/caring guys of my acquaintance: their devotion to their loved one; their sensitivity and successful relationships with many women, and so forth.
Then a different example is my friend's flatmate, Mr N, who as it happens has a hat that reminds me of Bono's Fidel Castro hat (one which I had been looking to acquire (not necessarily in emulation) and finally managed to do today at Glebe markets, yay hurrah). N is my friend's flatmate, and as long as you never ever ever have romantic intentions for him, is quite a nice guy. Responsible and caring father of one daughter, reasonably intelligent, involved in outdoor activities: he introduced me to the downhill descent of Mt Wellington. He's also a hoarder and collector, ardent visitor of garage sales and the tip shop, and has had a significant relationship with a much older female. And when P got sick, it was him, not her boyfriend, that cooked for her and helped her out. So far so good: he's got a strong sensitive side. The flipside of him that is less likeable is his recent entry into feted male arrogant stage: yep, he's reached that age where men fly through the glass ceiling; people lap up his speeches etc. Oh, and he is serial monogamiser, one after another.
But I did enjoy his company yesterday evening, or was it his choice of venue: a little courtyard behind St Mary's catholic church. It was a courtyard not unlike those found for city churches in New York and London; where city space is sparse and the discovery of a courtyard is special. This courtyard was leafy but not manicured, with a small lawn, some benches, strung up coloured light globes, obligatory statue and a view of old old brick buildings. We even had a quick visit from a down to earth old looking priest; it was very nice. The occasion was N's farewell drinks from his old job to new job; I got a special arm squeeze for my appearance making up numbers (!!!), the quick visit to his soon to be ex workplace was hilarious for the realisation that office culture is the SAME everywhere. Little notices about OH&S, or warning you not to eat other people's food, or telling you that only social club members get social club benefits, or inviting you to a party plan workshop...
When did we finally give up and just become predictable? Andy's workplace has staff meeting minutes pinned up; what cracks me up is that 75% of the KPI's have to be "actioned" by him; no wonder he is stressed by the pressure of prioritising.
*my own recent experience of the conflict between melting/being mortified, being my coffee session with my yoga teacher (actually I ordered herbal tea to be healthy and got pissed when he ordered a strawberry milkshake) at which I dropped the bundle because I finally COULD, and let all the pent up tears and frustrations out, and then made him laugh with a gentle dig at attachment parenting/crunchy granola behaviour, trying to assess where he was on the scale. IN the middle, so far.
Then a different example is my friend's flatmate, Mr N, who as it happens has a hat that reminds me of Bono's Fidel Castro hat (one which I had been looking to acquire (not necessarily in emulation) and finally managed to do today at Glebe markets, yay hurrah). N is my friend's flatmate, and as long as you never ever ever have romantic intentions for him, is quite a nice guy. Responsible and caring father of one daughter, reasonably intelligent, involved in outdoor activities: he introduced me to the downhill descent of Mt Wellington. He's also a hoarder and collector, ardent visitor of garage sales and the tip shop, and has had a significant relationship with a much older female. And when P got sick, it was him, not her boyfriend, that cooked for her and helped her out. So far so good: he's got a strong sensitive side. The flipside of him that is less likeable is his recent entry into feted male arrogant stage: yep, he's reached that age where men fly through the glass ceiling; people lap up his speeches etc. Oh, and he is serial monogamiser, one after another.
But I did enjoy his company yesterday evening, or was it his choice of venue: a little courtyard behind St Mary's catholic church. It was a courtyard not unlike those found for city churches in New York and London; where city space is sparse and the discovery of a courtyard is special. This courtyard was leafy but not manicured, with a small lawn, some benches, strung up coloured light globes, obligatory statue and a view of old old brick buildings. We even had a quick visit from a down to earth old looking priest; it was very nice. The occasion was N's farewell drinks from his old job to new job; I got a special arm squeeze for my appearance making up numbers (!!!), the quick visit to his soon to be ex workplace was hilarious for the realisation that office culture is the SAME everywhere. Little notices about OH&S, or warning you not to eat other people's food, or telling you that only social club members get social club benefits, or inviting you to a party plan workshop...
When did we finally give up and just become predictable? Andy's workplace has staff meeting minutes pinned up; what cracks me up is that 75% of the KPI's have to be "actioned" by him; no wonder he is stressed by the pressure of prioritising.
*my own recent experience of the conflict between melting/being mortified, being my coffee session with my yoga teacher (actually I ordered herbal tea to be healthy and got pissed when he ordered a strawberry milkshake) at which I dropped the bundle because I finally COULD, and let all the pent up tears and frustrations out, and then made him laugh with a gentle dig at attachment parenting/crunchy granola behaviour, trying to assess where he was on the scale. IN the middle, so far.
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