| In the Light of the Flash |
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I am 60 years old, and although I have every intention of keeping going until I'm at least 100, our rabbit has been trying to explain to me that this is a relative thing. A rabbit is a rodent, and like all other rodents is prone to nibbling and gnawing at a rate of knots. Twice so far our rabbit has been seriously ill. It never let on, but we could tell by its nibbling rhythm. At this particular moment in time I'm quite confident that our rabbit is in great shape, as shown among other things by the resolute way in which it drops off. You know how in classical music there are compositions that somehow seem to resist being brought to a close? Our rabbit takes a radically different approach and simply crashes to sleep. And yet it is nibbling and gnawing more slowly than it has in the past, although it is clearly having a whale of a time, which as such is something to look forward to, I suppose. Let me assure you that I haven't converted to "confession literature". It's not that I'm never embarrassed, but usually when I try to explain something this may well result in my touching upon subjects that could be embarrassing to some. What I'm actually trying to say is that I don't know what to do about it, but that doesn't stop me wishing everyone the very best. However, as a helpless citizen who rushes to the window in a tizzy whenever he hears a shrieking noise, I've thought of something that has been a source of amusement to me ever since I was an adolescent. A flash triggers associations with a photograph, with everyone who has observed it instantly starting to wonder who took the picture and for what purpose. Those who have nothing to hide turn their heads with pride, happy to trade in respect for having another go. But whether it was the surcharge on that letter or the excess speed 12 miles on, clearly the voice of one's conscience is activated by the flash of a camera. Of course one could wonder about the conscience of criminals, whom a flash may inspire to cease their objectionable activities for altogether different reasons, but the end result is the same. And so whenever I hear a sound through the open window, in the dead of night, that I nervously associate with breaking and entry, I grab my digital camera, aim it at the moon and press the button, so that all evil intentions within a radius of at least 200 yards are temporarily halted. I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do. |