Some times in the deadliest murkiest part of the night our minds play tricks on us. Making much more of what it imagines than it should. Falling prey to an obsession with some minutely insignificant event or encounter from our experience. It starts to bug us, frustrates us, makes us angry even. And just occasionally these thoughts in and around midnight seep into the reality of our daytime world. They become all that we can see.
Here is a small flavour of how one Sheringham resident was recently seeing their world. Posting on The Sheringham Noticeboard Facebook page, and including a photo just in case you didn't believe it was possible, the following:-
'This street light, at the top of the road has been on for 24 hours a day for at least a month. I don't know what it costs in electric. I do know it is seriously affecting my chances of doing astrophotography. I also don't know who I should report it to, unless of course it is alight all the time for a reason.'
So its not ruining their sleep, their love life, they're not raising concerns about the effect it might be having on other people in their community. Just that it ruins the possibility of them doing astrophotography. Presumably they do their astrophotography at night. So wouldn't that be when you'd expect the street light to be on anyway?
But Stephen, perhaps you are not quite appreciating the full magnitude of the situation here. It maybe that they lay awake in the middle of the night, blinds and black out curtains drawn, fretting about this damned light that somewhere in their imagination is making their life an absolute bloody misery. This light is on all the time. All the time! A light! I've been there, I do understand. I'm not beyond finding myself at 3am in a heightened state of anxiety about whether or not I left the velux window in the shop open, and that its now raining.
What possible reason might one dream up for a street light to be on 24 hours a day ? I suspect they were being a tad sarcastic, as am I when I say - lets invent a few. Its a means to counteract the high incidence of SAD in the area during Winter? Its so frogs, foxes and drunks can better see their way home at any time, day or night? As a temporary lighthouse to guide the lobster fishermen home? Its a beacon for the second coming? A gathering point for the satanist chapter of an over sixties mobility scooter club. As a visible marker so novice RAF pilots can practice which bit of Sheringham to pretend to carpet bomb?
But I digress. Anyway this good person is being a conscientious citizen. They're keeping us, and the powers that be, informed. Maybe some kind person has told them who to talk to, to put their agitated mind at rest. But, seven days later they post, with a current photo to prove it is still recognisably there :-
'One week on from when I first reported it, this light is still on 24/7'.
So, someone is obviously not paying sufficient attention, someone is not doing their job. Someone, perhaps, does not quite give it the same degree of importance or urgency that our Facebook postee does. I feel for our postee, I really do, and probably more importantly their partner. If they have one. Or whoever it is, their friends, who have to listen to them going on and on about the blessed street light, still being on. Wondering how quickly they can divert the topic of conversation. Imagine what it must be like if the first thing and the last thing you think about every day is whether a street light was still on.
In the comments stream they state :-
'I've sent them the data. I can do no more'
They have sent them - the data. Not simply informed them - this street light, its on all the time - they've compiled and sent data. I see in my fevered imagination weeks of the stuff on a spread sheet. Every hour being monitored and catalogued, by this lonely individual sat at a Formica topped kitchen table unable to do anything else but tabulate - 1am, its still on.
Yet, this would not be an untypical form of human obsession. I have little foibles that irritate me, poor quality carrot cakes is only one that I post the odd cathartic post about. So I'm not immune to the public venting of frustrations, of the Why oh Why oh Why variety. I try and be careful. To make a judgement call about what I put out there. Social media is not always your best friend, even if it does allow you to keep up a distant connection with past acquaintances.
Social media is like a person who pretends to be your best buddy, who first takes up all your time, then defrauds you of your common sense and finally controls your entire life. It does all this by creating a spurious sense of self importance and status. Becoming a forum for even quite ordinary folk to vent their favourite beef in public. Social media exploits that we all have a need to be heard, and sadly often feel that we are not.
I believe, here, I'm just gently taking the mickey, but what if that isn't true? What if what I write is painful to a person I don't even know. Is it actually good enough for me to say this is 'just a bit of fun'. One the subject of it is very unlikely to read? I've not used their name or used their gender, to deliberately depersonalise and distance it a bit from the reality. Nonetheless I have written this and have had my fun. Other peoples responses might have got more personal and more resembling character assassination. But is that only quibbling over the degree or style of ridicule? Are some things just fair game? If so, what makes them fair?
What this particular person posted does have the propensity to unwittingly amuse. I'm then further mining the scenario for the sake of, hopefully, a moderately humourous blog post. It long since ceased being about that original post. Its become a fantasy lampoon, one I've constructed upon selected details from that post. Through this, its become a vehicle for something else, a reflection of me and my concerns, and mine to take responsibility for. I have also to recognise that it is hard to keep your hands clean,when you've hit the paydirt of a good subject matter.
It appears I need my ideas, opinion, creativity or wit to be recognised as much as the next person. I enjoy the process of writing for my blog. In some ways the Stephen you read is not the Stephen you meet everyday. I'm a bit more self conscious and shy, than this lightly exaggerated persona. I have my moments when I question why I write a blog at all. I do it to practice my writing skill and expression through words. To get better at it. But that is a process for my own enjoyment and amusement. The hope that others might like it too, is an add on
Both The Sheringham Noticeboard and Enjoy Sheringham More! - our local Facebook Pages, are frequently full to bursting with testy truculent posts. People who apparently have no reservations at all about loudly broadcasting their opinions online. Their tempers rapidly escalating into high dudgeon about dog poop, litter, parking charges, tourists, Covid 19 restrictions or the latest barmy thing the council has decided to do 'that is completely devoid of all common sense' .
It is those seemingly little inconsequential things, insignificant events, the broken threads in life's rich tapestry, that are often what get to aggravate the marrow in your bones. Perhaps it is harder to realise when you've completely lost the plot over an issue. But these days anyone, including myself, can bring their lost plot, their favourite pet hate, their irate obsessions, not just to the attention of the whole of Sheringham, but the whole damned world.
So now, even you know.
Though I am still awaiting further news on the street light.
Is it still on? or is it now off?
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