A Product of Genetics or Upbringing?

Most of the time I believe my current state of being is based largely on my upbringing. Many situations in my past could have quite easily taken a different path. But every now and than, something would come up which would make me think that the paths I have chosen where not chosen at all.

Music being the most prime example.

It was once said to me that I prefer poets to musicians. I love a good song, but if it doesn’t say something with some thought or meaning it doesn’t last long in my consciousness. My favourite all time artists are Leonard Cohen and Nick Cave who both can tell an amazing story with the accompaniment of music.

Now is this because of my years in high school hiding in the library, getting my hands anything that resembled the darkness I felt was within, or was I born with attachment to the emotional (some overtly)?

Favourite songs from the time I used to call my happiest (I’m quite liking my current state of being):

Shakespeares Sister – Stay
Soul Asylum – Runaway Train
R.E.M – Everybody Hurts
R.E.M – Losing my Religion
Don McLean – American Pie
Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody

I mean, I was eight years old and loving the part in “Stay” where she was dressed resembling the devil (well, what I thought) and sang:

You'd better hope and pray
That you make it safe
Back to your own world
You'd better hope and pray
That you'll wake one day
In your own world
Because when you sleep at night
They don't hear your cries
In your own world
Only time will tell
If you can break the spell
Back in your own world

Maybe it all happened the way it did cause it was the only way for me…

Bogan* Watching

Well, missed Winter Magic on the weekend but I did partake in something that I haven’t done in a while…sit at a pub and chat to Bogan’s. Now this wasn’t the plan, but you stick me in a situation where alcohol is consumed and, who knows why, I end up having quite lengthy conversations with the strangest people. This has happened by entire drinking life and it’s good that I’m an avid people watcher, otherwise I might not see the funny side to all this.

Most of my friends have commented over time and all have their reasons why I seem to be the target for this Bogan phenomenon but I can just not see a night out on the piss without this occurring at least once.

So Friday night I met a country boy who came to chat so his mate would feel comfortable coming over for a chat…spent quite a bit of time dribbling bull about tax returns…TAX…I ignore THAT subject as much as humanly possible (even during tax time, which reminds me…better not do that again this year)…than after escaping, went to another pub where got into a conversation about who knows what with Bogan’s of the older persuasion, which can be much more entertaining but don’t always laugh when you talk back to them.

But the Bogan highlight of the night was a chick, which I have never met in my life, came up to me, give me a big hug, told me I was her best friend and than left…as I said…highly entertaining…(that and the man taking the piss out of drag queens by singing ABBA in a bad frock and an even worse wig…though he did do the Proclaimer’s in a kilt).
But something did happen that has never happened before and will be talked about for some time, I’d be thinking. Got a lift home in a street sweeper. Who can f*cken say that…lol…really strange sitting in a truck with a steering wheel in front of you turning all by it’s self. Hope the poor block didn’t get in too much trouble for the smashed windscreen.

*If your offended by the term "Bogan" or the way I'm using it, I mean no offence. I have meet some really interesting and wonderful people in my life who, not only would I refer to as Bogan's, but would also refer to themselves as Bogan's. Bogan culture rocks…I’m such a f*cken “Westie”…lol...