puncture repair man
My car got a puncture on Thursday, a bit of shrapnel picked up near the house.. I only got about 5 yards down the road and the thunp gudump thump gudump thump of the flat tyre pulled me up short. Now, I can change a tyre of course blah blah manly pride blah blah BUT I had to get some work done and before that get to the consultants for him to check out the neck and a new achey lump under the scar line (see previous posts on brush with tumour, lump-odectomy etc). The lump is just new (strangely) scar tissue he says, phew so leave that to one side.
This post is really to say, the guy who came out to swap off the tyre, go order a new one and fit it later that day was a really decent asian guy called (for short anyway) Izzy.
Why blog that? Because I rarely get to meet and chat with Asian origin (of any generation) , working class (or any class) people and as we swapped anecdotes of cars we have had, of fire festivals in Huddersfield, of how he had returned a dropped handbag to a lady's house and she had closed the door in fear or ignorance on him, it sort of dawned on me that , well .. not sure.. Insert some platitude about peace and understanding in these troubled times here... but I mean it.
We're all the same, he wasn't a muslim or a 2nd or 3rd generation asian and I wasn't a white man (or a 3rd generation Irish immigrant or 2nd generation scot or a lapsed - to the point of amnesia - catholic). We were, standing on a cold street kicking a tyre and chewing the fat, just two blokes who seemed to have the same values and outlook.
Peace y'all.
My car got a puncture on Thursday, a bit of shrapnel picked up near the house.. I only got about 5 yards down the road and the thunp gudump thump gudump thump of the flat tyre pulled me up short. Now, I can change a tyre of course blah blah manly pride blah blah BUT I had to get some work done and before that get to the consultants for him to check out the neck and a new achey lump under the scar line (see previous posts on brush with tumour, lump-odectomy etc). The lump is just new (strangely) scar tissue he says, phew so leave that to one side.
This post is really to say, the guy who came out to swap off the tyre, go order a new one and fit it later that day was a really decent asian guy called (for short anyway) Izzy.
Why blog that? Because I rarely get to meet and chat with Asian origin (of any generation) , working class (or any class) people and as we swapped anecdotes of cars we have had, of fire festivals in Huddersfield, of how he had returned a dropped handbag to a lady's house and she had closed the door in fear or ignorance on him, it sort of dawned on me that , well .. not sure.. Insert some platitude about peace and understanding in these troubled times here... but I mean it.
We're all the same, he wasn't a muslim or a 2nd or 3rd generation asian and I wasn't a white man (or a 3rd generation Irish immigrant or 2nd generation scot or a lapsed - to the point of amnesia - catholic). We were, standing on a cold street kicking a tyre and chewing the fat, just two blokes who seemed to have the same values and outlook.
Peace y'all.
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