In life there are doors that open, doors that close in your face and doors you ignore completely.
On Ignored Doors
What do I have in common with Gerard Butler, Gerry Rafferty, Kelly Marie, Trevor Sorbie, Tom Conti, John Byrne and David Tennant?
We are all from Paisley, Scotland.
According to Famous Paisley People, Gerard Butler studied law at the University of Glasgow at roughly the same time as me. This may be spin doctoring as I don’t remember him at all and let’s face it, and how could I have missed him? He is tall, dark, handsome and really famous which usually comes hand in hand with plenty of chuztpah. It could be that I just didn’t notice, as I was besotted with someone my dad calls Airdrie Fats at the time.
Blinkers on. Door ignored. I like to flatter myself that this is just as well for my tall handsome husband, the Minx and the Noisy Boy.
On Closed Doors
Sometimes, even if you keep opening a door, it will spring shut on you until you get the hint or a nosebleed (whichever event occurs earlier).
If you are a lawyer, you’ll know all about Donoghue v Stevenson and if you are not, you could care less. Either way have a read at this article by Martin Taylor QC. It is entertaining, has pictures and will explain the snail reference.
May Donoghue was a wee Paisley woman who didn’t have five pounds to her name and yet she took a huge case to the House of Lords. Her case is the root cause of virtually every personal injury action raised in courts today. May strikes me as a pretty gutsy lady and inspired by her epic legal battle, I became a civil court lawyer. I thought I would be a natural as I am both argumentative and persistent. A sadistic judge at Glasgow Sheriff Court had other ideas. KM slammed the door in my face repeatedly until I turned to drink, gave up litigation in despair and switched to lecturing law instead. Door closed.
On Doors that Open
Now and again, on a spring day like today with the smell of jasmine in the air, I might look at the world from a different angle. From that angle, I might notice a small door that I’ve walked past a hundred times. If I’m still writing here next week, this blog may well be one of those doors.