|When the Caretaker was writing about getting distracted I had to snicker. Here is a guy who has been reprimanded countless times to show more concentration and less distraction – I was thinking of myself, if you had any doubt at all.|
Getting distracted (or shall we call this side-tracked?) has been my problem ever since I started out in school. When the school miss was trying her very best to make us understand the alphabet or simple math, I always found something more interesting outside the windows or I just happened to have an important conversation going on with my neighbours. It also seemed that there was always some student talking to me when I just tried living up to my teachers expectations – or so I thought.
When the school year was over we got our evaluations. During the first school grades we did not get characters. In Germany numbers ranged from 1 – 6 with 1 being the best and six the worst. So instead of numbers we had a written evaluation. In my booklet it read something like this: Peter is a good and interested student, but he is side-tracked too easily.
I have always been interested in way to many things at the same time. But there was one thing I was never interested in – Sports. I absolutely hated all kind of ball games and often times I simply went home when the others indulged in getting their weekly drill.
Until today, I have never watched a single soccer game nor any other ball game. I never understood the meaning with it and I still hate the wild screaming going on under those “games”.
People always tried to tell me that gym was good for our health. In reality my fellow students got off it with broken arms, stretched ankles and scrubbed up faces. Me, I was never in a hospital for things like that, and doctors have never been part of my everyday life. In fact I avoid them all I can. Something I have inherited from my Dad – no doubt.
Speaking of Dad: Talked to him today. He’s approaching ninety and complains that he can’t do “anything” anymore. While that is absolutely true he is still very disappointed about it. I tried to tell him that everybody will be getting to that stage – but of course it’s not of any consolation to him. “When you were 30 or 40 did you ever think about getting to be eighty or even ninety?” I asked. No he hadn’t. When I was twenty I never thought of being sixty one day. Now I’m there. Surprisingly I still have a lot of fun. But 25-30 years down the road I might not have that fun anymore. Who knows – I better not think of it now.
Life is good!
But now I was getting side-tracked again.