YOU will have worked out by now that I have a list.
On it are all the people who are going to disappear in the night when the revolution comes.
I have just added a new group to my list.
My wife is talking about getting a life coach.
That’s okay. I’m a modern man. I’m in touch with my feelings. I can empathise. As demonstrated by my response:
“Are you out of your mind, you… you idiot!”
If you think I’m joking just check the ad columns in the newspapers. You actually can get some self-important, pompous, egomaniac to coach you in living.
“Take a breath… now let it out… take a breath… now let it out.”
It’s a joke, right?
No; it’s true.
If you ask me it’s a contradiction in terms.
I mean, coaches train you for the big race. How can a coach train you for your life? It’s a race you’re already running!
There is no point in having a trainer who says: “It was a big mistake marrying a woman who was actually looking for a gardener and someone to lift heavy weights. Next time around don’t do it.”
Because I’m not going to get a next time around.
I have a friend who has a life coach already. As far as I can see it’s a bit like adopting Dr Frankenstein.
It involves you taking out your own brain, and adopting his.
This friend has abdicated her most basic human right – thinking for herself. True, she no longer consults horoscopes, or reads tea leaves.
Personally I think she was better off with them. By the law of averages she was bound to get it right about half the time. Now she’s using another human being to make all her important decisions she’ll be lucky to achieve five percent accuracy.
People like John Howard and George Bush have whole armies of life coaches (they call them political advisers) and it doesn’t seem to help them much.
I don’t know… seems to me we’ve got too much time and too much money on our hands.
As my old dad used to say, people didn’t have time for this nonsense when they had to beat their lunch to death with a stick.
And when the average life expectancy was 25 years, having a life coach was a waste of money.
And besides, I always looked upon me as my wife’s life coach.
I know she looks upon herself as mine.
“Oh… you bought a green sweater… oh… I wouldn’t have done that. What do you mean – you want to move to a smaller house. Of course you don’t!”
(Sorry… for a moment there I thought I did).
And there’s another thing… where is this coaching going to happen. I’m not having some pansy in a leotard and tights running hugging sessions in my front room!
So… I’ve added life coaches to the list. They’re up there with line dancers, politicians, restaurateurs whose tables rock, and people who write self-esteem books (who are probably the life coaches in the first place).
If the revolution ever does come and I get to eliminate all the people on my list, life is going to be lonely, but at least coffee won’t end up in the saucer and I won’t have to listen to any more claptrap.
“Going to stop talking, are you,” said my wife.