Fate...

6 January 2010

Pingtung, ‘Los Reyes’

I like the word ‘irascible’. I think it’s onomatopoetic. It just sounds just like irritability should sound.

So, I think that describing fate as irascible is both just and evocative; it sounds as if it’s pissed off. And, much of the time, it appears fate is, basically, a curmudgeon. I write this because my experience of the fellow – I think he’s a ‘he’ but she could as easily be a ‘she’ (I don’t want to be accused of sexism on this topic) – has frequently consisted of cosmic practical jokes, with me as the butt.

Today, for instance, fate decided to test me. I was sitting on the roof terrace, enjoying a beer and a quiet cigarette, ashing my smoke in an empty can left over from the previous evening that I scrounged from the bin we keep on the roof. There was a pleasant breeze and the wind chimes, from Santa Fe, which have adjusted nicely to their new Oriental home, were playing something classically Chinese. Overall, a nice way to spend some ‘me’ time.

Of course, just when I was having some out-of-body, peaceful experience, fate interfered and I ashed my cigarette in the beer I was drinking rather than the empty can (note to self: use different brand cans when drinking one and ashing in the other). The choice I was left with was whether to abandon the cold, refreshing beer I was drinking or carry on bravely, ignoring the ash content.

At first I rashly tried to pour out some of the beer, assuming the ash would float off. I checked myself just in time and stayed my hand, this is, after all, beer we’re talking about.

I don’t think I’ve ever drunk beer mixed with ash before – at least not the first one. There’s always, though, a time for these new experiences and, with two and a half flights of stairs between me and the refrigerator, this seemed the ideal time to try it.

Well, I can report that apart from a slightly gritty taste, the beer seemed to be unaffected. I sipped away, contented, the breeze wafting across the roofs, tinkling the chimes and me, slightly prone and very relaxed.

So, although irascible fate has tested me yet again, I do not think I have been found wanting. I have taken a few roughs with the smooth, a bit of grit with my brew, and have emerged, beery but unbowed.