It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it.
-Funboy Three, feat. Bananarama.
A great message and maxim for our time.
Run the marathon.
And regardless of effort, dedication and your personal sacrifice and immense achievement, you’re just like any of the other thousands of charity or insanity-motivated people who pound the pavements of London. Do the same thing in a diving helmet and gear, however, and for the entirety of your week-long trek you have the additional weight of the national press on your back and you have to keep sending your Mum to the corner shop to photocopy more sponsorship forms.
Busk in New York.
A few cents here, a few cents there, maybe getting moved along by the police, or asked for your license, maybe shift a few copies of your CD. Busk nearly naked, year-round, wearing nowt but a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and underpants, and before you know it you have a lucrative sponsorship deal from Pepsi and Calvin Klein and Versace are falling over themselves to provide your under-sorry-outerwear.
Hitch-hike around Ireland.
Meet some people. Drink a monkeyload of Guinness. Get silky black hangovers. Come to resent the colour green.
Hitch-hike with a fridge, however, and you and the fridge become minor celebrities, with the added bonus of a series on Radio 4 and a tidy little book deal.
This entry was typed entirely with my nose.