The other day Mr Bent told me a story about Amelia Dyer and he casually mentioned ‘streetlights’. I was always told that they used to be candles on a stick and that people were hired to light those candles in the evening. A man (or woman?) had to walk round town lighting all those candles on a stick. I have always wondered whether he also had to walk around in the morning blowing all those candles.
Later they replaced the candles with gas lamps and even later, after the inventions of electrickery (thanks Catweazle) and light bulbs (thanks Edison), they replaced all those gas lamps with electric light bulbs. Which makes me wonder what is next, maybe a 24 hour artificial sun. But that is not the reason I started going on about a silly thing as streetlights. I started this, because I wanted to get a very different message across.
For some reason these streetlights got me thinking. Actually, they put me in a more a less philosophical state. Let’s say you live in a lovely little street or lane or what have you and there are some 25 streetlights there. All those streetlights working like they should; shining their lovely little light straight into your room as you are trying to catch some sleep. Each and every day you walk passed those streetlights and nothing seems out of the ordinary.
Until one day you notice that one of those streetlights is actually not really working. All the lights are burning, but there is one at the end of the street that is not shining its light on things. So you walk up to it and as you get closer you start hearing a vague hum or drum. The nearer you get the louder it gets. You also start to recognize a certain tune and as you are standing next to it, you can clearly hear a song by the Beatles coming from that streetlight.
Some people will just find it very odd and go about their business. Others will call up somebody to come and fix the (nasty word) streetlight. Maybe somebody would kick it, because they think they somehow possess the magical kick that will turn the light on. Only the happy few will see the streetlight for what it really is: a dang good radio.
I think the same goes for people. There will always be those who want to change you, because they think you are broken. There will always be some that think you are an oddball. Others will ignore you, maybe because they don’t understand you. But the few, oh happy few, will see you for what you really are: a very good person in your own right. And that’s what you’ll always be.
See me tomorrow.