I find it fascinating people can justify certain behaviours in themselves, but can’t understand incredibly similar behaviours in others – even judging them on those actions, despite them being fractions away from their own.
I hate January in the UK as much as the next person, so one thing I do to get through it is book up as many exciting things as possible for the next few months: I get the festive period out of the way, then start planning the first half of the year like a man possessed. It’s great to have things to look forward to, and when better to do that than in the most miserable, long and cold month of the year?
Looking at my calendar now, the next six months are a joy to behold: 4 gaming weekends away across the UK, 8 gigs in 6 different towns/cities, plus a trip to Sweden. As much as I love my home and where I live, I love getting away just as much – and if I can tie in music and gaming with that, then more’s the better.
I accept some people will think this is nuts: not everyone has my desire to up-sticks every other weekend to nomad my way around the country and stay in shitty hotels so I can watch my favourite bands, or play games with friends and strangers alike. If you don’t get it, that’s fine. But some people really, really should.
In darkest December I found myself in a Midlands pub on one of the most miserable days of the year, waiting to head to a gig. We ended up sharing some tables with a bunch of Bournemouth football fans. They’d got up stupidly early that morning, put their Christmas jumpers on, and piled up the motorway to watch their team get well beaten 2-0 in freezing sideways drizzle.
They were an affable, drunken bunch showing an admirable support for their team. I like football, and I get it: I’ve never been one to travel to games, but I understand the mentality – it’s the same I have for music and gaming. At least I thought it was.
I hadn’t gotten up early, or travelled half as far. The band I wanted to see hadn’t played my home town the week before, or in fact in years. The band I was going to see were playing indoors. In the dry. And they were going to perform: barring a surprise of biblical proportions, I was going to witness the result I’d set out that lunchtime hoping for. But it was me trying to explain to them why doing it wasn’t weird.
They were nice. They didn’t have to let us butt in on their table and when they left an hour or so later, off into the night to get a curry, we said farewell on happy terms. But as they wandered drunkenly away I was thinking, nice chaps – good luck next week. While they were clearly thinking ‘weirdos’. Funny old world.
PS: Hopefully see some of you in Ely, Basildon, Harrogate, Bedford, Cambridge, London, Bristol, Eastbourne, Manchester, Hitchin and Goteborg soon…