Have life experiences that make interesting stories

I tried baba ghanoush for the first time, before dancing merrily to Baggy Trousers and dousing my hair with glitter. All this surrounded by at least 30 police, who, despite provocation, failed to crack a smile. Following this was a march through the streets – blowing into noisemakers, waving a massive black flag, and shouting about the People’s Front of Judea/Judean People’s Front, much to the bemusement of onlookers. We ended up in a lovely big park, where upon entrance we were halted by a lassie very sincerely asking ‘Oi, are yous pirates?’, to which we of course replied ‘Yes. Yes we are’. After failing to join several other people planting anarchist and pirate flags in a large tree, I plonked myself on the grass and had my fortune read with Aleister Crowley tarot cards. And also banged the drums for a bit (that’s not a euphemism). I then strolled in the sunshine towards the point of departure for the bus home, stopping to hear a busker singing Keep the Car Running and buy some salt & vinegar chipsticks. Good times.

So, so traumatized.

I haven’t really had a huge amount of them, but talking to my gran today I realised how many things she’s experienced in her lifetime.

She told me about the first time she saw a plane. She was about 8 or 9, living in this wee village in Donegal, and it had been in the paper that this rich Italian count (yes, a count; it’s not a typo) was going to pass overhead in a sea plane. All the children in the village gathered to see it, and lo and behold this loony in a bright red sea plane comes soaring over the hill, touching down in a lake in County Fermanagh.

That’s fucking cool.