I was on my way home in a taxi tonight when a curious thing happened: I thought about my father. There was a drunk man, in his forties, slightly fat around the waist, staggering along the pavement. The taxi was stationary, waiting for a green light. I watched the man intently. He swayed uneasily, walking with giant steps as if he was tackling a most fiendish obstacle course that only he could see. He waded through trenches and battled invisible foes, dodging their attacks, until he collided disastrously with a tree. He reeled back and regarded the tree with astonishment.
The man squatted down and took out his phone. He moved with the wind, return his phone to his trouser pocket, and tried to stand. He couldn’t. He tried once more and succeeded. He averted another attack from the tree and made his way four or five feet along the sidewalk before he fell into a bush. It was this moment that reminded me of my father.
The light turned green and the taxi moved on, leaving the hapless drunk somewhere between life and death, the earth and the stars, sleep and the sorrows of life. It was dark overhead. I recalled a time many years ago when my father had been so drunk that he rode his bicycle into a ditch. It was the middle of the night and we woke up the next morning wondering where he was. He turned up covered in mud and cuts and bruises. We gasped. My mother asked him what had happened. My brother began to cry. Dad confessed his drunken calamity and we breathed a collective sigh of relief.
My parents divorced several years later. I haven’t seen my father for the best part of ten years. This bothers other people more than it does me. A good friend of mine once said that I should not lose contact with my father in case I ever needed him. Perhaps I’m too young to really appreciate the magnitude of such advice.
What is there in marriage anyway? I don’t see myself ever having the patience to go through such an ordeal. I see no point in getting married. The act only serves to remind us of our inability to ever really achieve the stuff of dreams.
Techno' tags: Marriage, Divorce, Drunk people
I'm guessing you're early to mid twenties (no idea really). I'm mid thirties. Forgive the cliche but when I was your age I felt exactly the same (no, I'm not trying to be a patronising old fart). Couldn't understand why anyone would want to get married. When my brother did I told him he was mad.
However, there comes a time when you want to share your life with someone. I'm not the settling down and stagnating kind but I still like the idea of sharing those special moments in life with someone who matters.
I think at some point nature kicks in too and you start thinking about offspring and the need to reproduce. You can't beat the feeling off, it's one of the most powerful instincts in any creature since the dawn of time. It sneaks up on you. One minute you're there enjoying being young, free, and single and then wham! Before you know it you're changing nappies and checking out schools.
Marriage is what you make it. It doesn't have to be dull and boring. You don't have to get the brown Volvo, semi in the suburbs and 2.4 kids. One thing is for sure, never give it a try until you're ready for it.
Getting married is like being officially owned by someone. Everything is shared and whatever choice you make you must make it together. The individuality is gone the freedom is over. But then again it's nice to have someone you know you can always go back to and stay with you no matter what. Well ideally anyway.
hey matt, I loved ur latest installation in GURU, great observation. I feel sorry for white girls here in Bangkok.
i think being married is like committing urself to one person. it's the idea of having someone there through the good, the bad and the ugly… someone who believes has has faith in u. being married is never easy. i see my parents fight but they stick together no matter what. trust me… they dun always get along. it's almost like they dun like one another much, but they luv each other the way that u can't describe… they way that if one of them died today, another would suffer a lot. marriage to me is more than just sharing ur life with another person… i think we all hav to find the meaning to the word ourselves.
erm… i meant to say installment, not installation. how daft of me!
mate, i say this not as a patronising old bastard but as someone the same age as you.. i am lucky that my parents are still together and have been for nearly 30 years (which these days seems to be rarity).. when i think about them back in england i hope and pray that one day i'll find what they have. i remember very clearly my mum telling me when i was about 10 years old that she will always love my dad more than me and my two sisters.. at the time i was a bit upset, but looking back i see exactly what she meant. you call marriage an ordeal, but i think sometimes you need an ordeal to really learn something and progress in life.
anyway, another drunken comment from me… i went to the new Club Culture tonight which was pretty good – u checked it out yet?
mark
I think people who come from dysfunctional families have a hard time imaging themselves in healthy, longterm relationships (marriages more specifically). My parents divorced when I was very young, so I can't even remember them together. They never remarried and have been successful and independent and pretty much alone. I have a few role models of healthy relationships, but I can't help but feel afraid of marriage. I'm cynical and think I might be better off alone.
Did it ever occur to you to perhaps GET OUT OF THE TAXI and HELP the old guy out?
You even admit that the old drunk guy reminded you of your own father, yet you had not one ounce of desire to get out and HELP HIM so he doesn't end up injured or even killed in his drunken state.
How hard would it have been for you to get out of the cab, help him into your Taxi and offer him a TAXI RIDE HOME? Seriously?
You see, this is what is wrong with the current generation of young people. I'm 38 and I would have helped the guy out.
Just my opinion.
This was written four years ago, but thanks. He was drunk. He wasn't stood on the edge of a cliff.