Rose-coloured glasses (Post no. 150!!!!!!! Yay!)

In the unforgettable final scene of Frank Capra’s masterpiece It’s a Wonderful Life, Jimmy Stewart’s character – a broke and disheartened philanthropist – stood underneath his Christmas tree in the company of his family and good friends.

And he felt like the richest man in the world.

Corny, I know. But it’s an old movie. Give it a break!

There was no guardian angel earning his wings last night, but at times I felt I was in one of those moments.

OK, so I was drunk. But no matter.

It’s the culmination of a couple of weeks of a new lease on life. A mixture of my past and present colliding.

Nothing much has changed. Same job. I’m still broke. I’m still not a rock star. Six of seven days, I’m still a cynical unappreciative old bastard.

But at a time when I could be wallowing about all the crappy stupid people in my life, I will instead say this:

I have a good family.

I have good friends.

I walk in the company of many wonderful people.

I am honoured.

I am thankful.

And I am humbled.

I know this is transitory. And in time I may well forget. By tomorrow, everything can turn to crap. But I want to remember myself this morning. 3am. Sitting up in bed, still awake, still feeding off a drunken buzz, playing my guitar as badly as any guitarist in history and forgetting that I had blown another $80 in one night. For alone in my room, ruminating about my past few weeks to a badly tuned and badly played (and probably badly built) musical instrument, I was a rich man.

Through these rose-coloured glasses, even those gloomy robots can be made to look a perhaps unmanly, yet somewhat happier shade of pink…