If I am honest, and I strive to be so in my column, I have very much enjoyed these past few years of being accepted as the member one goes to see about a nettlesome problem.
Category: Major’s Corner (Page 4 of 32)
I was walking by a private school in Victoria a few months ago when I came upon a small boy sitting all by himself on the edge of a playing field. In a rush of memory I recalled my own time at those schools, not always a happy event. Like the poor little chap near me, I too spent much of my time on my own, hiding either from school bullies or maddened masters, as our teachers were referred to then.
Our second week has begun in Puerto Vallarta and we have finally settled in, although the same could not be said for my wife’s cats, Bertram and Pericles.
The club is quiet these days, which is understandable considering the bacchanalia of Christmas, followed by its older brother, New Year. There are more than a few mems who are unable to answer the bell on these squeamish days of January and several will not be seen again, not in this life at least. The home of homes gradually becomes a receiving centre for broken resolutions and good deeds gone horribly wrong. In short, to use a yachting term, the club is in irons without even the faintest promise of a zephyr. We are recumbent and inert
Here are some treasured moments that I, well, treasure. The day my club accepted me. My first day at the club. Every day after that at my club.
That’s about it, really. There are some who say things like “my marriage” or “my children’s births” and other banal occasions. But those things are achieved by most people anyway. Joining and enjoying one’s club, that is a whole other kettle of fish. That makes one special.