The road not taken (24-05-23)
The road not taken
Every year in May, the thought of another birthday horrifies me. Because of another year.
The good thing about May is that summer is coming. And then I push that birthday into the background. I have long since reached the age that a man should have his prostate checked every now and then.
That was about the same time as that new enemy showed up: The mirror.
That luscious jet-black hair has long since disappeared and has been replaced by wrinkles that have started to meander over my face like rivers.
I only meet beautiful young ladies who longingly look at me in my dreams. Like last night.
While I THOUGHT that a graceful blonde, you know of the ' nbbb type ' (no brains, big breasts ') looked at me penetratingly, I heard someone shout ' move aside oldtimer, right now.”
NORMAL?
But sometimes I do like life. Especially if the thermometer is near 25 Celsius. Then I look at blowing summer dresses and dancing T-shirts of pretty girls, nicely filled.
Not striking of course, 'it just happens.' 'I just see it.'
Am I a voyeur then?
To be relieved of that doubt, I started to inquire with men of my generation, their sons and other young people, all men. And each and every one of them reassured me.
"You are a man, the Lord has made men like this."
That's why I look at, or maybe I should say it more subtly; I SEE those things. Better than those bare bellies in the middle of winter. Then I sometimes want to shout at such a girl 'dress better, think about your health and forget about fashion'.
Anyway, I won't do it, it will soon be summer again, then there will be fun again. Also in pigeon sport, which has undergone a metamorphosis in me a long time ago.
FROSTt
I was talking about T shirts but you also have T junctions.
In his book 'the road not taken', Frost tells how he encountered a T-junction during a walk in the woods.He doubted which direction to go, the path that many had already walked or that few had yet chosen.
He opted for the latter 'and that has made all the difference', he says.
It reminds me of what happened to me in 2006.
All my life I had chosen the easy and majority-trodden path. That of racing my cocks on widowhood, sometimes with hens, but… also in widowhood.
'Why don't you play 'double', some well-known champs asked me. Double? Hmmm.
I had played so well for so long and then change a winning team?
I also doubted because, Stan Raaymakers always said:‘Double widowhood IS NOT it, that is mainly raced in Germany and the Northern Netherlands. You can fine-tune one of the two. Cocks OR hens. Not both.”
But it wouldn't let go of me.
HOWEVER
- The idea of only having to keep half the pigeons in order to race with the same number appealed to me.
- Also the thought of no longer having to peddle hens.
- P v d Merwe, Verkerk,de Bruijn started it and… were very satisfied.
- Then there was the guy who shouted 'old timer'. 'Old timers' don't keep up with the times, don't dare to change and I didn't want to be like that.
- And ore efficiency from fewer pigeons? What does a man want more.
From then on pigeon sport changed completely for me. If I used to start with 30 racers (ie widowers), I had to keep 60 pigeons for that.
From then on I only had to keep 30 pigeons to be able to race with 30.
I haven't regretted the change to 'double' for a minute.
Fewer pigeons means less feed, less work, more oxygen, less shit, less feathers during the moulting season, less costs, what more could a person want?
I changed my system and so would some Belgians do who never believed in ‘double’. Icon Andre Roodhooft is one of them.
CLUB
I still remember the first time I joined the basketing table.
I was used to the man in charge asking me 'is this really a cock?' because my pigeons are rather small.
When a huge rash was made, people sometimes jokingly remarked 'that A. S. breeds them so small that they can escape through the bars of the baskets'.
But now I was the first to hand over a pigeon that was indeed a hen.The next one too and a few more.“What are you going to do now?” I was often asked.
'Playing with my hens too' I would say and my fellow sportsmen were satisfied. Because competing with hens against their widowers? No chance. Fine. A little more balance was good for the sport.I also realized that it might be a matter of death or the gladiolus, but now, many years later, can you say it became gladiolus.
PIET
The hens in particular performed with the new system so enormously that gardener Piet called if he could come and 'watch' the home coming of my birds the next race.In the past he had also had pigeons, now time and interest again.
'Sure' I said, 'you're going to experience something. So be prepared.
He believed it. He had taken care of the garden in the mornings and whenever I released the hens I had to bend down when they stormed out with a hellish noise. You also HEARD them come over and that's good. They were also gone for hours.
On the racing day the sun was out, the wind against and the evening the sportsmen in the well. Desperate as they were from my performance.
When my birds were about home Piet could not help calling a fellow villager, who had no birds yet. "A S has stopped clocking, his birds are home, they flew out the windows," he roared.Not long after, the club had a new member. His name was Piet.
SO SIMPLE
Is double widowhood complicated, you may wonder?
On the contrary, nothing simpler than that.After the flight leave birds together until dark, then separate.Let them together before the season occasionally to prevent lesbian manners by the hens and that's about it.
Are there any drawbacks?I myself experienced one, less good cocks. It cannot be because of less quality, it is the system. A system that is especially ideal for people who have little space.
FINALLY
So I have not regretted for a moment choosing the path that still frightens many Belgians in particular. As I type this it is May 21st. Warm and on the street I see 'ladies' in T-shirts with dancing content. And I still smile when I think about that dinner and that waitress with that dialect. She also wore such a shirt.“Are you taking meNU?” she asked. (NU means 'now'). "Eat first," I said.
Impolite? Come on. For you are born a man and you will die a man.At least…most of them. Because in 2023 with all those gender states and gender changes, you never know.