Wednesday 13 February 2008

It's been a bad day, please don't take a picture.

Rejoyce! Rejoyce!

Spring has sprung! Bike weather will soon be here.

I have just been for a quick spin to have some passport photos taken. The air was crisp and clear. It was bright and, although not exacly warm, it wasn't bitterly cold. And it was dry. Sweet, sweet dry roads, how I have missed you. How I have longed for your grippy grippiness to return and hold my bridgestones tightly. How I have longed to flip the bike around with the type of reckless disregard for the laws of physics one can only dream of during the winter. With the type of contempt for the rules of the road only Jim McDaid can aspire to.

Yes, soon I will be crusing down country roads. Gracefully swooshing around bends, zipping by tractors and admiring the natural beauty of Glendalough. Can't wait!

... and speaking of passport photos...

How I miss the old passport photo machines. The ones that took 4 different photos.... at irregular intervals.

You'd carefully insert your money (old, old money mind) and position yourself in what you hoped was a fetching pose ( you never knew, because you didn't get to see the photos until they came out). Then the first photo would be taken, together with a blinding flash - catching you mid pose. A flash so bright small woodland creatures living nearby would come out of hibernation. This invariably caught you completely by surprise, blinding you and rendering you startled, squinting and trying to regain your bearing as tiny coloured stars float before your retinas. This is usually when the second photo was taken. This time with a brighter flash - bright enough to give the sun an inferiority complex. Your moment of confusion is captured in all its glory just when the cringe factor reaches its peak. "Fuck... Jesus.. what the..." you'd say as you try to gather yourself for the..... FLASH! goes the third photo. 3 ruined now, 1 left. Better make the most of it. You quickly compose yourself, staring blankly ahead. Blinded. Yoursight is slowly coming back, you can make out the screen in front of you and see your stunned reflection staring back at you. Nothing. You look down at your watch, wondering if in the confusion you lost count of the flashes. You lean forward to read the sticker above the coin slot.. just to check.....FLASH!

BOLLOX!


(The title of today's post is brought to you courtesy of 'Bad Day' by REM)

3 comments:

conortje said...

Oh dem were the good old days sure. Nowadays you're not even allowed the slighest trace of a smile on your passport photo - well over here anyway, not sure if it's the same in Ireland.

The Bad Ambassador said...

Its the same here. In fact the passport application form now comes with a 4 volume booklet clearly outlining what are and what aren't acceptable passport photographs.

Caro said...

Jealous! Want a bike. With an engine, obviously. The Italian's Vespa is crocked (I've been nagging him to fix it for two years) and mine is in Ireland...