Double Vision with Charlie Adley
Soon after I first dated the Snapper, I was cringing in my car as she carefully, systematically and very crinkly-crunkly-noisily folded up her empty crisp packet, tucking in the final corner so that the empty plastic bag held its own triangulated shape.
Aware that I’d found it irritating, she turned to me and stated calmly:
“It’s my thing. It’s what I do so get used to it.”
Since then I’ve grown immune to her triangulating compulsion, amazed only at the way size presents no object. Be it the tiniest sweet wrapper or a huge plastic Dunne’s carrier bag, everything gets triangulated.
It’s what she does.
It’s who she is.
We all have our very own ‘things’. They are the foibles that define us, the quirks that can sometimes drive the uninitiated around the bend. They are the twitches and habits that you either fall in love with or move away from.
Essential to individuality, our eccentricities matter beyond apparently deeper differences. They are the driving force of our uniqueness.
Doubtless shocking to any who knows me, I confess to having one or two minor ones myself.
You don’t look at three quarters of a painting, nor just the top of a sculpture, so when watching a film I want to see the whole piece, intact, from beginning to end. No talking, no interruptions of any kind. Admittedly, if it’s Vampire Zombies v Predator III, such rules might not apply, but out of respect to the masses who’ve worked on the movie, I’ll give it my full attention.
Last week I was watching ‘The Place Beyond The Pines.’ I was completely absorbed by fine storytelling, yet seemingly without conscious thought, my left hand picked up my smartphone.
To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.