Pontifications

I attended a reception at a local watering hole for my alma mater this evening. It is a prestigious university across the Pond, and apparently there are some 100 of us in the Calgary area. I went to the first such event about a year or so ago, and had a perfectly wretched evening, full of flashbacks to Old Boys sitting around with their port and cigars, pontificating at will about nothing of any great value to the world. Why did I go back, I hear you ask? Well, I really couldn't be sure it wasn't PMS, or SAD, or some other diseased-acronym, and so I thought I'd better go back tonight to check for sure.

And for sure, it wasn't me. I was faced with islands of two or three alum blissfully chatting away about absolute tosh, completely ignorant a new face had joined the crowd. A more icy welcome I have never received. Well, it wasn't really even a welcome, or even a cursory acknowledgement of my existence (beginning to feel a bit Douglas-Adams-y about the whole thing ...) Luckily I breathed deeply and pushed myself into an ongoing conversation, or I would have spent the whole bloody evening talking to the wall - without anyone noticing my blatant absurdities.

This is hardly surprising or out of character for this lot. I remember hearing once that an enterprising and highly mischievous person went to a party held by one or other of the pontificators when stationed across said Pond, and decided to make up a story about a completely fraudulent 9th century Welsh poet. Fully half of the assembled actually admitted to hearing of said fake Welsh poet. No doubt the fear of being embarrassed by not knowing what they are supposed to know. These are supposedly very intelligent people, and they need to pretend to stay that way.

Pontifications abounded, especially when there was a pipe in the room. Luckily no pipes tonight, due only to the good graces and forethought of Calgary bylaw officials.

I should say that I did finally meet one or two nice people, and we had a decent chat about nothing really substantial. On the whole, I think my time would have been better spent in front of the TV with my virtual friends on Coronation Street. At least you get a good conversation, I say a good conversation, out of them.

Comments

Sarah Elaine said…
Ugh! I can't *stand* pretension. As far as I'm concerned, we all have certain things in common... we breathe, we sleep, we eat and we shit. Stop doing any of those for long enough and you die. Period.

After that, the rest is detail. Having a piece of paper from a certain institution does not make you a better human being!

I went on a date not too long ago with someone from the same institution across the Pond. After the first two minutes, I was trying to figure out how to exit stage right (or left, no matter - just exit!)

He could have been at your event. In fact, I suspect he was. Poor you!!!

Well, you just keep being YOU! People adore YOU!

As for 9th century Welsh poets, anyone who's *really* from across the Pond knows that the Welsh are all ass-backwards anyway! (Says she who has a hearty dose of it in her bloodlines...)
The Mistress said…
I can't find an email address for you so I'll post a comment instead. Just want to invite you over to our Canadian Coronation Street blog called "Corrie Canuck" . . .
http://corriestreet.blogspot.com
See you there.
Anonymous said…
Aw, those poor old bastards. You know all of that pretension is just a mask to hide all of their deepest fears of rejection. I say a little sympathy may be in order for the silly buggers. Like children they are, thinking that no one will love them unless they are just like all of their friends.

Single tear...and scene!
Appreciate this blog post

Popular Posts