BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

Today I saw a tramp. True story. Well at least I think it is. It’s getting harder to differentiate between tramps and hipsters. I’ve given up trying to be fashionable, for all I know it could be the hight of fashion to wear shoes with no socks on, use string instead of a dog lead and sleep under a canal bridge. Furthermore I’m not sure that the term tramp is even politically correct. Is being of no fixed abode enough make you a tramp? If so were the A-Team tramps? They seemed to just tour the country in the back of van, never looking back. That must have been a harsh and unforgiving lifestyle. Sadly we never got to the see the awkward scenes of Face flannel washing in a petrol station toilet, or Hannibal and Mr T spooning in the back of the van to stay warm on a cold winters night. The show could only have been richer for these intimate glimpses into the lives of high functioning military hobos.

But getting back to the tramp in hand. He was sitting on a set of steps having a blazing row with an urban pigeon. I hate to take sides in these things but from where I stood the pigeon seemed to have the moral high ground. Part of me wanted to stop and watch this magical street theatre unfold before my eyes. In an ideal world the tramp and pigeon would be reconciled after a traumatic life event caused them to address their inner demons. In reality the tramp was minutes away from bludgeoning the pigeon to death with his shoe and pocketing it to use as a light afternoon snack.

All this got me thinking about how fast life flies by. The pace of life seems to be ever increasing leaving our dreams and aspirations in its wake. I’m not sure I ever set out to be a web designer, but here I am. I just put one foot in front of the other and life did the rest. Admittedly GCSEs, A-Levels, a degree and the fact I’m amazing all helped. But the fact is life sneaks up on us all sooner and later and forces us to look back. Face didn’t join Boot Camp thinking one day he would be a trouser phobic mercenary sex pest. I’m pretty sure that the man I saw on the steps wasn’t a career tramp. No one aims to be destitute and alone. I bet this morning when that pigeon left his nest he never though he get into an altercation with a belligerent man who smelt vaguely cabbage. To be honest, I don’t know how the story ended for either party, one can only hope that things went on to get better. Who knows what the future holds for any of us? Somewhere out there, there’s a pigeon with your name on it.