Fat vs Thin – Philosophy of the Canteen

Last night, while at work I was chewing the cud with one of the other drivers in the canteen. Thankfully, our topic was not related to the realms of public transport, but took on the wider world and included the Harappan Civilisation, Nelson Mandela and the commonality in human culture of a Great Flood.

Who says that bus drivers are boring?

Anyhow, we were also talking abut diets and food. Fat, thin, fasting, vegetarianism, the lot. The advantages and disadvantages of everything.

For example, was the human body designed to actually eat three square meals a day? Is cancer caused by all the toxins in processed food? Are you prepared to kill your own meat? (just for the record – that is no problem for me, past or present)

Not everyone I know enjoys what I would call ‘high fluted’ banter. Chatting, not just about life and films, but bout matters that look deeper into the murky depths of what we collectively call humanity. Is the out of Out of Africa theory codswallop or scientific fact (I personally have been convinced by the theory), are the Americas still reeling from the clash of civilisations half a millennia ago, and how long can the human body last – 50, 100, 200 years?

Although this blog does wax lyrical about the ‘joys’ of film making, I also vent alot of that (along wth various cast and crew members) on the CWP blog. Sometimes film making means that I loose track of the other bits of bumpf that litter the human spectrum. However, it is good to get talking again. Talk may not change the world, but thoughts reverberate into infinity…

Let us be honest. Unless you are actually involved in film making, it is a pretty dull industry to be in. There is so much faffing, so much shuffling about that it surprises many, including myself, when anything gets done. One of the great things about knowing people who are not connected to or trying to get connected to the film industry, is that you realise the life beyond the fridge.

I am an archaeologist by training. Now in reality, that means jack, especially as I was not a very good (or sociable) archaeologist. I mainly did it for the traveling. In hindsight, I should not have bothered wth it, or at least have turned my attention to film making sooner than I did. However, archaeology encouraged me to read like crazy and more importantly discover a whole new world out there. Now, whether it is archaeology, biology or maths, the result is the same. Expansion of the mind. Too often, we as individuals (myself included) look to gain goals. You know, the house, the wife, the mistress, the two cars, the large house, the 1.8 children, pets, two holidays a year, a fridge full of white wine, a cellar filled with red, you know, the suburban nightmare, it is all part of the British Dream (if Americans have one, so can we – shame it’s a bit lame). However, no matter how much we surround ourselves in things, we forget that the world is far more interesting, nay, fascinating by its inhabitants. The history and culture of this planet is rich in the extreme. Although our conversation may have seemed long (we both had a long break), time seemed to fly, and far too quickly I was back on the road transporting the great and good of South London to and from bars, home or work.

One thing we touched upon last night was also the death of my father (for the record that happened when I was 16). Now, it was via a long winded way that we touched upon the subject and we did not go into it in any depth, but it also made me think of the intervening years since that. It is interesting to note that I do not lead a conventional life. I mean, I am the last person who is chasing the British Dream…but while I have been going through a lot of self doubt about what I am doing and how I am pursuing it, I also thought about the life I have lead since then.

To this day, the death of my father remains the most important event in my life. It is the single event that has shaped my life and for me there is a clear dividing line of my life when my dad was alive and everything since then. Really, it is akin to a fault line across my memories and a lot of what I do today stems from that event. How I lead my life, what I get upto and my general lack of care for the world. That pretty much is a recoil from that day.

Well, this post is long enough. And, looking back on it, quite a random chunk of my thoughts. It is not often that I open myself upto public viewing. I am notoriously closed up about my thoughts and feelings. Much of what I portray to the world is bravado, a flourish, a whim. And that does reflect an aspect of me which is very true. But there is also a lot more to my what I do than what meets the eye. Caution Wet Paint is not just milk bottles and fun, there is a little bit more to it. For those that read these random words, you may have seen a little bit deeper into the murky pool of my mind…

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