Reality Blows – Harder


Back in November I produced a piece called Reality Blows. In it I bemoaned the fact that the reality of our lives rarely lives up to the expectations that a life time of popular culture have etched onto our malleable brains. Fire stations are a prime example. I am constantly disappointed to find that they are not in fact hotbeds of shirtless pole sliding hunks.  Anyways as my older post barely scratched the surface of this rich topic I am banging out a much needed follow up.Why have a stand alone blog post when you can turn it into a franchise?

Hot Cars and Not Hot Dudes

This is subject I’ve acquired  a very faint interest in since the hey day of Top Gear*. If something a bit unusual cruises past I will generally take a moment to appreciate it. Particularly if it’s vintage. Those clunky old convertible Mercs have a bit of pizazz about them. I can see myself in the passenger seat, perving glasses and silk scarf in place Jackie Onassis style as Dadabulous chauffeurs me around. ( In a chauffeurs uniform and cap of course).

Heaven's in the back seat ... hang on a minute.

Heaven’s in the back seat … hang on a minute.

Why is it that whenever you see a car that you’d rate as Sub Zero on the Top Gear Cool Wall, the contents never live up to the packaging? I mean to say – the driver is inevitably a crusty old dude.  Being an eternal optimist I constantly expect to see a suave silver fox, a Roger Sterling type, behind the wheel. At the very least I hope for someone with the quirky charisma of Mr May himself.  Unfortunately reality blows hard when I see the actual driver and the words “over compensation” spring to mind. Ironically on the rare occasions I do see a hot young guy in a sports car I think “drug dealer”.

Something you never see IRL.

Something you never see IRL.

Jane Austen

Lifted from The Wall Street Journal. Cackle inducing.

Lifted from The Wall Street Journal. Cackle inducing.

Miss Jane, the forerunner of the Mills and Boon has much to answer for. Its her fault that generations of women have longed to hear passionate declarations of love like this gem from Persuasion -“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever”  Sigh!

Or this heart fluttering quote from Mr Darcy.

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”  Oh my! Somebody turn on the fans. It’s getting hot in here.

Meanwhile back in reality, the most romantic thing most women hear from their hubby’s goes something like “You go alright. Old chook”.  It’s not quite as swoon inducing is it?

You have to keep in mind that Jane Austen never married. This gave her the luxury of conjuring up a momentous meeting of the minds with characters like Darcy. Perhaps she imagined them flinging their long johns across the boudior floor in flurry of passion.  However she never experienced the dubious joys of picking the said under garments up from the floor and laundering them.

Aaah. Real romance.

Aaah. Real romance.

Silly Love Songs

I’m on board with the sentiments expressed by Paul McCartney and Wings in 1976.

“You’d think that people would have had enough of silly love songs”.

Love songs raise our expectations only so they can be knocked over like king pins by the bowling ball of real life. In my experience for instance, there were some enchanted evenings, where I saw a stranger across a crowded room. Sadly at that point the tune usually morphed into George Michael’s Fast Love.

Bruno Mars is making a fortune telling young girls what they so desperately want to hear. He croons

When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change
Cause you’re amazing, just the way you are
And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while
Because girl you’re amazing, just the way you are
The way you are, the way you are
Girl you’re amazing, just the way you are

Contrast this with my reality, which blows.  Dadabulous has been known to sweet talk me with things like “You were one of the hottest women on the beach today. The standard was low”.  I dare you to work that into one of your romantic ditties Bruno!

Bruno Mars is setting YOU up for a fall.

Bruno Mars is setting YOU up for a fall.

Does your reality blow? How hard?



* I’m over it now but I enjoyed the show when it was on SBS. I was crushing on James May. We have no shame about such things at Chez Abulous.

I'll have a cuppa with you Captain Slow.

I’ll have a cuppa with you Captain Slow.

10 thoughts on “Reality Blows – Harder

  1. All I get from my Micky Blue Eyes is the old ‘You scrub up alright.’ or his wonderful theory that you should never go for really beautiful or smoking hot women because they are sometimes ‘trouble’. Which leads me to the conclusion that somebody who’s butt ugly like me, on the other hand,is okay. Hmph. You’re right, where are our Gilbert Blythes and Mr Darcy’s? Sighhh,

  2. Colleen McCulloch (author of the Thorn Birds for those note immediately familiar ) wrote an excellent sequel Pride & Predjudice – set 15 years later than the original it’s a “where did they end up” type of thing. It’s really good – I won’t spoil it completely but with after all the romance of courtship Lizzie gets an awful dose of reality blowing hard when faced with the brutishness of Mr Darcy’s “needs”!

    • You’re spot on about the car contents. Always tres malhereusement. Or, in, fact, very amusing, depending on your perspective about compensation. I don’t want to discuss my reality. I’m not sure where it is. I think it’s in China, or at work or something. He did say ‘I could stay’ when he saw my new pink hair though. High praise indeed.

  3. Reality can be overrated – but those silly love songs – well my 6 year old insists on listening to them every morning on the way to school! Funnily enough, after cringing the first few morning, I’m getting used to them!
    Josefa from #teamIBOT

  4. Firemen constantly disappoint me, where are they hiding the guys from the calendars? D’s kindy is right next door to a fire station and we’ve been going there two years and not even one slightly drool worthy sighting. So depressing.

  5. Oh GOD YES IT BLOWS! Damn you Jane Austen. And do not get me started on Bruno Mars. M compliments me by saying things like “You don’t look fat in that” without prompting, WTF?!?! High praise indeed.

  6. I will do everything within my being (said like ms austen) to drive a hot car before I become crusty

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