MEMO to God, from Nury Vittachi ....
Dear Sir or Madam,
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The job I want to apply for is ‘Child’.
I realise that I am a little bit (okay, several decades) past the usual age for this position, but I believe I can be retrained.
Last week, I was crossing a pedestrian walkway with my child when we saw a beggar. I saw a smelly man flouting society’s conventions and hasten my steps to pass by as quickly as possible. My child saw a person in need and gave him a huge smile.
Then we crossed a car park. I saw a patch of dirty ground with oily puddles to be avoided. She saw rainbow-filled pools to be stirred into psychedelic patterns with the toe of her shoe.
Then we passed a group of men digging a large hole in the road. I saw an irritating danger to traverse. She saw a glimpse of the heart and lungs of the city and insisted on stopping to watch for a full eight minutes.
Then we headed to a shopping street for lunch. As a boringly predictable adult, I suggested Starbucks. But she smelled fried noodles and dragged me into a workmen’s cafe where we shared a really tasty meal for less than the price of one designer cappuccino.
Then I scanned the newspaper to look for cinemas, shopping malls or theme parks to visit. She decided "the fun-est thing to do" would be to take a ferry nowhere in particular and then take it straight back to where we started.
So that’s what we did. It WAS fun. And then we headed home.
On our journey, it became clear to me I am not cut out to be an adult. How could I have got it so wrong?
In my teen years, I believed I was born to be one. Not only was I growing taller, but my voice was getting deeper, my skin hairier and my birthdays greater in number. Drifting into adulthood seemed natural.
However, I now realise this was a gross error. I had not fully considered the consequences.
So I resign from adulthood with immediate effect. Please find enclosed my car keys, my house keys, my credit cards and my gold membership card to the Old Codgers’ Club.
I will no longer pretend to like subtitled European art-house movies. When asked what my all-time favourite movie is, I shall admit to it being The Lion King.
I will no longer buy suits from tailors who offer me a choice of colours limited to grey, grey, grey or grey.
I will no longer pretend to enjoy books which have won the Booker Prize and will re-read The Magician’s Nephew.
I will no longer pretend I like sitting in bars late into the night discussing politics. I will go straight home after work and play Monopoly.
I will no longer eat organic lettuce drizzled with olive oil. I will have Coco Pops for dinner.
Why not join me? You might like it.
Amen.
Those wishing to join him can contact the columnist through his website: www.vittachi.com.
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