Every day at work, we gather in the staff dining room to eat our lunch, and my colleagues evaluate each other's victuals.
"What have you got today?"
"That smells nice."
"Ooh, that looks a nice sandwich - what's in it?"
No one ever directs a comment or question my way since I always have exactly the same thing in my Spider-Man lunchbag: turkey and beetroot, with mayo, on two Warburtons sandwich thins. A bag of pop chips, sour cream and onion. An apple. A satsuma. A small Hulk lunchbox containing brazil nuts, walnuts and a small handful of apricots. The same lunch five days a week, with only the occasional variation: a bag of Skips instead of Pop Chips.
Whenever Louise and I get together with other couples (rarely, to be honest), conversation inevitably turns to travel. Louise has been all around the world and has the stories to go with it: New York, Paris, Rome, Hawaii, etc etc... she even spent a couple of months working in an Aussie outback bar. I've been to France. Kefalonia. And on the school Sixth Form ski trip, we drove in a coach through Germany to get to the Swiss Alps. I rarely have anything to contribute to world travel conversations.
The only real hobby or interest I have is music, but even there I fail to be interesting. It seems I like too much, and not enough of the right stuff, to ever be considered cool. That's been the case as long as I've expressed any interest in pop songs. I remember telling kids in junior school I'd rather listen to Frank Sinatra than Madness. They'd sing "Roll out the barrel..." to represent my taste in music. I'm presuming one of my wag mates had heard the Vera Lynn version and thought it a good fit. Then in high school, while my cooler pals were heading off to investigate the Smiths and other John Peel delights, I was buying Huey Lewis records and getting into Springsteen. Other contemporaries started out liking pop music and then turned their back on it when they discovered more esoteric offerings. I kept a foot in all camps. As much time as I spend now delving into dusty 70s and 80s relics that even Peel might have only played once, I still won't hear a bad word said against Meat Loaf or Queen or even Jon By Jovi. My refusal to shun the music the cognoscenti has cast out will forever mark me down as someone with no taste.
I make the same sandwiches every day because I like them, and they're easy to do. The last thing I want to do when I get home from work is spend ages thinking about or creating something new. It's lunch, it's not performance art.
There are places in the world I'd like to visit, but I don't feel particularly aggrieved by not having a fully stamped passport. New York, one day... beyond that, I'm happy enough trudging round the British Isles. In another lifetime, with other opportunities, maybe... but I don't lay awake at night bemoaning my provincialism.
And as to the music... I know this is a bugbear I return to a lot on this blog because of the chip certain individuals in the real world and the blogosphere have cemented to my shoulder, so there's not much more to add.
I will say this though... I may be boring, but I'm never bored. I honestly do not remember the last time I ever felt even remotely bored. There's always something to do or think about or listen to or read. Why would you ever get bored? I'll save that till I'm dead...
