First, I saw that people had left flowers by signposts on the pavement, obviously at the site of some fatal accident. But there seemed to be flowers by quite a few posts, for quite a long way. Either no-one was sure exactly where the victim had died (the most likely explanation), or there had been several accidents on that same stretch of pavement. A scary possibility. I wondered if I was walking in some death-trap. Perhaps this pavement was right next to a bit of road perennially covered in ice and marbles. Luckily I didn't die.
The only other possible explanation for the large range of floral tributes, was that the accident was of such force that the victim was smashed into several pieces, each landing at a different location. If I had been quick enough, I could have looked at one of the cards, and if it said "R.I.P Gerald's left leg", I would have know I was right.
It got me thinking; what happens if someone is run over in a cemetery? The flower system would be all screwed up. Or a florist?
There really should be some protocol in place.
Further down the Banbury Road, I saw an advert for what must have been a careers or training company. It had a cartoon of lots of homogeneous figures going round the cog of a big machine. It asked the question: "Is there more to life than this?". To which someone had answered in graffiti, quite neatly, "No".
It made me chuckle. (Not really. I've never chuckled in my life. I'm not a chuckler. But I was amused). I wondered who had written it. Was it some smiling smartarse, or was it some depressed middle-manager on his way to work. "No. There's nothing more to life. There's no hope. I'm serious. I won't even use an exclaimation mark, as this connotes an unsuitable sense of levity."
It certainly made me feel a bit more depressed about the upcoming possibility of office work.
The registration went ok. I had to do a stupid computer test.
On my way home, I decided to take the scenic route. It's been a beautiful day. Bright sunshine, blue skies, not too cold. I decided to walk through the University Parks, and then through the suburbs towards home. I was listening to some Beethoven string quartets, which added to the whole peaceful beauty of the enterprise.
I kept walking past students, on there way to this library or that orgy, and felt a bit jealous. That lifestyle is long gone. I was treating my walk home as a last reminder of what it's like to be free.
I walked through some really nice areas, and eventually came upon Park Town, which is about half way between Summertown and Oxford. I've wanted to live there for a long time, as it's full of expensive houses, and I once saw a cool looking little old man with a hat and cane get off at that bus stop. Park Town is like my version of Hilldale from Back to the Future II (the 1985 version, not the 2015 version, full of tranqs, lobos and zip-heads).
There's an amazing Georgian terrace there (Georgian? I don't know architecture. It could be 1970s for all I know), which looked incredible in the sunlight. Here's a picture (I took one, but I found this on Google which is better):
So, that's where I plan to live. I wandered through the similarly idyllic streets surrounding, and was overcome with a sense of tranquility and peace. There was no-one around: no cars, no building sites, no kids (and I'm sure the addition of loads of kids would have ruined the whole impression).
I thought of how working full-time robs you of these pleasures. There's never any time to do anything peaceful and relaxing and pedestrian. The weekends are too busy, and you've got to cram everything into them. I want a lifestyle where I can wander about, maybe get a coffee somewhere, or sit in the park. It saddens me to never have that option.
Then I thought about what it would take to afford a house there, and that depressed me further. I wasn't cheered up by thinking of agency work as the first rung on a ladder to more cash. I think it's more that to afford a place like that, I'd probably have to work so hard, I'd never have time to appreciate it. Unless I become the next J.K. Rowling (without the vagina). Then I can do jack shit all day!
I don't care about being rich (although a new TV would be nice...), I just value leisure time. If I had enough money to spend my days in peace and idleness, I'd be perfectly satisfied.
I also walked past the Dragon School, which seemed kind of posh, and I thought about how cool it would be to say you went to the Dragon School. I don't know if they're taught to breath fire or anything, but I hope so.
In the end I took about an hour to get home. It was a rewarding but slightly disconcerting day. I'm impressed by the beauty of the world, but I'm not sure how best to access it.
On my way home I looked for the cog-machine advert to take a picture of it, but I must have missed it. Or maybe, some idealist took it down for giving a misleading impression of the world.
"There is more to life than this! There is!" he might have said, as he was carried off into the back of a police car and beaten with clubs.
So, is there? I don't know. I really don't. But I hope there is.
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