Don’t Skype me
I received another email yesterday.
Yes, I do get quite a lot as I have said before.
This one however fell outside of the category of spam and was plainly not part of a mailing list. It was, in fact an invitation to take part in a podcast with The Cool-Grandpa.
I declined, with regret.
My reasons are fairly simple. I did some podcasts some twelve or so years ago and found that I had little to say. I am a bloke of few words and am comfortable with companionable silences, which tend not to work very well during a broadcast. I did live radio back then as well and found that I just babbled to fill in the silence. It was embarrassing to say the least.
Also for some reason that completely escapes me, people expect me to be funny. I don’t know why. I’m a humourless old git who prefers to throw stones, not jokes. The only time I have a funny bone in my body is when I crack my elbow on something. Herself thinks I’m funny all right, but for all the wrong reasons.
Herself is another problem when it comes to podcasting. If she hears me chatting to someone in the next room she usually accuses me of chatting up some female or other [chance would be a fine thing] and I have to spend the next week protesting my innocence. I have told her many times that she’s the only woman for me. And maybe Claire Byrne. Or the pharmacist. And possibly the Young Wan in the hairdressers.
So I think my podcast days are over.
I don’t even have Skype installed, and haven’t for years.
I shall remain mute in my own companionable silence.
Not to break the companionable silence I shall remain mute on this comment. You're welcome.
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I prefer a printed argument or explanation. I can quickly go back to an earlier point.
Youtube or similar has me being distracted by the presenter, or the setting.
As for being funny, maybe you are like Tommy Cooper, just standing there raises a smile. Totally inexplicable.
I'm the bloke at the party standing in the corner. You know the one? The bloke everyone is quietly pretending doesn't exist because he's no fun. It doesn't bother me, by the way – I like People Watching.
Sitting outside of Kingfishers on a warm day, in companionable silence, while you lit your pipe and drew in smoke contemplatively, would seem the very essence of perfection. Can podcasts capture the scent of pipe smoke?
Now there's a man who knows me well. I'm a little perturbed by the use of the past tense though?
Shall seem the very essence of perfection!