Do you ever stop and wonder about what it would be like to live in another time?I do a lot.
As an inveterate day dreamer I am prone to mental wanderings.
But my day dreams never involve winning lotteries, or accolades or sporting events.
Likewise my brain never ventures into the murky waters of revenge killings or trap setting for those who 'done me wrong',
luckily for some.
I do, on occasion, consider what it would be like to discover myself sitting next to Mr 'Lets just leave this place and make some noise in private', but experience has taught me that THESE imaginings are best left for the privacy of the bedroom.
I blush too easily, and my lung capacity is such that my heavy breathing causes a discernible draught.
This draws the kind of attention not always found delightful OF a lady IN the street.
Oddly that type of behaviour is found desirable IN a lady OF the street, however this lady is not of our concern today.
No, my mental vacations take the part of what it would be like to be me in Victorian England, or perhaps the time of the Tudors.
It is a reflection of my education that my dreams take place in a country I have only briefly visited, and not of some small fishing village in Portugal or newly industrialised Germany, which would be just more appropriate to my ancestry.
I imagine myself clad in floor length linen and ribbon dresses surrounded by gardens filled with flocks and topiary trees, not dressed neck to knee in black velvet lined with fur trudging through the snow in search of wild boar, or standing on the shores wishing my father safe return from his whaling trip.
Seriously, my ancestors were whale hunters- the old fashioned 'kill them by hand kind' which is how they ended up in New Zealand. It's true.
As a mad keen lover of Whales and all things ocean, the irony of this fact is not lost on me.
But back to mind-only-time-travel.
I sometimes look around my life and try to imagine what kinds of things would translate to another century.
My fixation is with jobs.
For example, a person working in a pub in 2010 does almost exactly the same job that a person working in a pub in 1020 would have done. If there were pubs then, which I think there were.
Unless they only came into existence after 1066 and all that, which I doubt.
A beautician who removes the unwanted hair from a woman in 2010 would no doubt recognise at least some of the job specs specified in an ad placed in the Pharaoh Daily in Egypt circa 21AD.
Wanted Beautician Must be good with women and be prepared to listen to endless bitching about how stupid men are, and how said clients friends swear they haven't had any work done when it is clear that they have.Ability to tune out an advantage.
Men may not apply - unless they are gay. Doctors(of a fashion), priests, bakers, jewelry makers, carpenters, tax collectors, mayors, seamstresses, wig makers- all these things are real jobs.They have history, they have tenure. They existed before, and when I imagine myself living in a world hundreds of years ago, I imagine these people around me.
I imagine a castle where textile weavers and fishmongers surround the walls, and where daily life and industry co-exist.
I try to place myself in that miasma and then for shits and giggles, I try to place others.
Airline Pilot.
Hack driver? Chariot racer?
TV News reader.
Oracle? Court jester ? Town Crier?
Electrician.
Magician ? Necromancer? Conjurer ?
Computer programmer........I draw a blank.
There are very few medieval equivalencies for jobs of this nature, and before you get your wind up and point out that most of these jobs involve an element that had yet to be harnessed in 1800 or before, let me draw your attention to The Stock Market, and all who dwell within.
I live - by choice- in a city whose 2 main concerns are food, and money.
And not always in that order.
The food part is dealt with nicely by our friends in the north, and the billions of others around the world who hand feed cows and organically raise apples.
The money part is dealt with almost as nicely by a group of men all called Michael or Mike or Mikey who drive around in flash cars they loaned from the bank and sharp suits they have made by men called Mr Halamantomanti. (Actually that's just a made up name, all tailors in HK are named Mr Lee- even the Indian ones).
Mike- or The Big Mr M to his mates- has a job title that befits his exulted status as a mover and shaker in the worlds monetary stage.
He has, of course, been to Uni where he studied Finance, or at least Geography, and at the age of 25 he is a fully fledged card carrying Futures Trader.
That is, he tries to predict what the costs of things will be later on, and bets other peoples money on whether or not he will be correct.
Like a Soothsayer, or a prophet, a prognosticator, an auger.
Or a Witch.
Most people would never think of handing their money over to a man with the title 'Seer' or 'Tea-leaf reader' on their card.
But give that man an office with a window, and suddenly he can see into the future.
I'm not picking on Futures Traders. There are hundreds of jobs in the finance industry that are equally circumspect.
You will recall there were money lenders mentioned in the bible, but they are what is known these days as 'Loan sharks'- and so they don't count.
It's the ones who do nothing, make nothing, create nothing and then sell it for a commission that come in for special attention here today.
Last year, The Year of the Ox, saw enormous swings and downward shifts in currencies and finance. People lost their jobs, their homes and, in some tragic cases, their lives due to the ramifications of bad decisions made by people- mostly men- in blue suits who had 'buck passer' and 'arse licker' invisibly printed on their name cards.
This year, The Year of the Tiger, we hope for better.
We hope that the people with real jobs survive the crystal-ball gazing forecasting of our clairvoyant overlords.
So take a hint people.
If you find yourself day dreaming as I do, wondering what your life would be like in 1455, and suddenly see yourself on a chair at the end of a long pole being dunked into a duckpond, consider a career change, or at least learn to juggle and fiddle more than the numbers.
Men may not apply - unless they are gay. Doctors(of a fashion), priests, bakers, jewelry makers, carpenters, tax collectors, mayors, seamstresses, wig makers- all these things are real jobs.They have history, they have tenure. They existed before, and when I imagine myself living in a world hundreds of years ago, I imagine these people around me.
I imagine a castle where textile weavers and fishmongers surround the walls, and where daily life and industry co-exist.
I try to place myself in that miasma and then for shits and giggles, I try to place others.
Airline Pilot.
Hack driver? Chariot racer?
TV News reader.
Oracle? Court jester ? Town Crier?
Electrician.
Magician ? Necromancer? Conjurer ?
Computer programmer........I draw a blank.
There are very few medieval equivalencies for jobs of this nature, and before you get your wind up and point out that most of these jobs involve an element that had yet to be harnessed in 1800 or before, let me draw your attention to The Stock Market, and all who dwell within.
I live - by choice- in a city whose 2 main concerns are food, and money.
And not always in that order.
The food part is dealt with nicely by our friends in the north, and the billions of others around the world who hand feed cows and organically raise apples.
The money part is dealt with almost as nicely by a group of men all called Michael or Mike or Mikey who drive around in flash cars they loaned from the bank and sharp suits they have made by men called Mr Halamantomanti. (Actually that's just a made up name, all tailors in HK are named Mr Lee- even the Indian ones).
Mike- or The Big Mr M to his mates- has a job title that befits his exulted status as a mover and shaker in the worlds monetary stage.
He has, of course, been to Uni where he studied Finance, or at least Geography, and at the age of 25 he is a fully fledged card carrying Futures Trader.
That is, he tries to predict what the costs of things will be later on, and bets other peoples money on whether or not he will be correct.
Like a Soothsayer, or a prophet, a prognosticator, an auger.
Or a Witch.
Most people would never think of handing their money over to a man with the title 'Seer' or 'Tea-leaf reader' on their card.
But give that man an office with a window, and suddenly he can see into the future.
I'm not picking on Futures Traders. There are hundreds of jobs in the finance industry that are equally circumspect.
You will recall there were money lenders mentioned in the bible, but they are what is known these days as 'Loan sharks'- and so they don't count.
It's the ones who do nothing, make nothing, create nothing and then sell it for a commission that come in for special attention here today.
Last year, The Year of the Ox, saw enormous swings and downward shifts in currencies and finance. People lost their jobs, their homes and, in some tragic cases, their lives due to the ramifications of bad decisions made by people- mostly men- in blue suits who had 'buck passer' and 'arse licker' invisibly printed on their name cards.
This year, The Year of the Tiger, we hope for better.
We hope that the people with real jobs survive the crystal-ball gazing forecasting of our clairvoyant overlords.
So take a hint people.
If you find yourself day dreaming as I do, wondering what your life would be like in 1455, and suddenly see yourself on a chair at the end of a long pole being dunked into a duckpond, consider a career change, or at least learn to juggle and fiddle more than the numbers.
Gosh, Wendy, treasure, you sure can write!
ReplyDeleteLove ya!
Denise