Life – Page 40 – Achilles & Aristotle

Hair

I’ve not got any, but what a palaver for those who have – hair.

I find myself sat in a posh salon with my boy, as he gets his mop cropped with a poncy coffee and my own complementary biscuits, on an airline style tray.

Far cry from last time we had his hair cut; in a barbers which was so self consciously male – men blowing up and shooting stuff on cable TV, mags and leather chairs – that you couldn’t help feel the manly haircutters were more self-conscious than they were trying very hard to appear.

I’ve often thought if they came up with a cure for baldness, I’d turn it down. In my day I’ve plastered gel, wax, mousse and more on my then tufty top. But a quick buzz over the bathroom sink with clippers has done the job for many years now.

Hair today, gone tomorrow. I don’t miss it, but a free coffee is always nice.

Life

It ain’t broke

Hard sometimes to see the point to it all. Earnest people obsessed with status, money, attention or clout. I’m tired. Dog tired.

Stuff which usually makes me happy ain’t working. People who always bring me back, can’t. Rubbish. I’m flagging. Going through the motions. Even the car had a flat this morning.

But as always there are some simple answers. Get some sleep, stop running my engine at 90 mph and get through to my holidays.

Much of what’s broken doesn’t need fixing. It just needs living with. Mankind’s stand-out strength is stamina. We keep chugging along longer than anything; on two legs or four.

So like today’s flat tyre, the secret is running repairs and keep rumbling on.

Achilles, Ethics, Life

Lance

Last night I stayed up late, to watch a remarkable documentary on a fallen hero of our times – Lance Armstrong. On the day the Tour de France hit London, it couldn’t have been better timed.

The ordinary background, the “f#ck ’em all” early years, the descent into cancer and vicious chemo, the fight back and astonishing, triumphant 1999 Tour de France victory. Then the doping rumours, allegations, flat denials, Feds, hubris, betrayals (of him and by him) and the final fall.

His is an epic story of Greek proportions. But I come away confused… Charming, brutal, controlling, intimidating. But now vanquished: a quieter, reflective and for me, a better man.

A modern Achilles, it’s not for nothing that all Greek tragedy had a narrative arc. There are no gods in real life, only mortals. And in acknowledging he has done wrong – albeit too late and with a trail of lies and damaged lives in his wake – he has begun the steep climb to redemption.

I wish him well on that road.

Life, Photography

Henri Cartier-Bresson

Last weekend I read that, for the great French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson, the art of photography is in capturing the ‘decisive moment’.

He wrote in his seminal work:

“To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as of a precise organisation of forms which give that event its proper expression.”

As crystal clear as his trademark 50mm Leica-mounted lens.

Not for Cartier-Bresson the ‘tints’, ‘crops’, ‘effects’ and ‘enhances’ of Instagram and Photoshop. He was a pure black and white man, with everything he wanted framed only by the lens.

Wikipedia says he showcased this discipline ‘by insisting they include the first millimetre or so of the unexposed clear negative around the image area resulting, after printing, in a black border around the positive image.’

With an iPhone to hand, it’s easier than ever to capture the decisive moment. But sometimes, if you’re not an Henri, you need a bit of luck.

How happy was I then to capture for posterity this moment of athletic grace as my daughter, in the manner of Myron’s ‘Discobolus’, released a child’s sponge hammer to soar to a bronze medal, at her sports day this week.

Both Henri and Myron would have smiled.

Achilles, Life, Odysseus

Great Men

The Greeks invented tragedy. Shakespeare explored its every facet. Hollywood is more ‘goodies’ and ‘baddies’. But does greatness invariably end in disaster? It depends on what you think great is.

Most of the ‘great’ men I’ve met have been greatest in either stature, ego or self regard. Far fewer in warmth, kindness or humility.

It’s this simple I reckon: if you’re great on the backs of others – expect one day to fail and fall.

If you’re great for and because of others – great of heart, integrity and kindness – you may stumble, but I believe you will never truly fall.

Why? Because those you have truly cared about and cared for will reach out to catch you in your hour of need, and will gently forgive you your honest mistakes.

The only greatness worth having is that which is earned for, from and freely bestowed by others.