Story time: Some things never change

It is often said that we shouldn't try to change the ones we love.

For generations, mothers have sat down their daughters and told them that changing a man is an uphill battle, and informed them of the benefits of buying a large shed so you can get your reading done in peace.Some things - such as the clothes he wears and the food he eats - can be altered slightly. Some things - such as an addiction to gambling or pornography - tend to be set in stone. Fact of life. If you met him playing the pokies and his pick up line was "life's kickin' when your knickers are stickin'", walk away. Run even.

Sidenote: The above quote, "life's kickin', etc.,", is something I actually saw on a bumper sticker someone had proudly placed across the back of their giant ute. It's easily the most amazing thing I've ever seen. I often wonder what the owner of this vehicle says when they drive up to visit their mother, and what sort of person would be impressed by it. If I met this person, would my mind explode? This will plague me for quite some time.

So, changing of loved ones is a no-no, but what about people we don't love? What about people we hate? Can we change them? Will they change themselves?

As this is such a Sex and The Cityesque topic up until now, allow me to rephrase that...

I couldn't help but wonder ... can we change the ones we hate? Are we sluts? [Insert pun here] Cunt. Men are bastards.

Anyway, This train of though took off from the following station; My attendance at the local football league's annual awards ceremony. I was required to attend for work. The 20 minutes I spent there were easily the least comfortable 20 minutes of my life thus far. Exaggeration? Yes, but it paints a picture.

There are few things that mark me as Australian. As the saying goes 'football, meat pies, kangaroos and Holden cars'. Unfortunately I won't touch a pie or tomato sauce - I have left many a canteen lady shocked into worried silence - cars hold no interest for me and one thing I despise above all others is the sport of football.
Kangaroos? Indifferent. Seem nice, could kill me.

I have never been a sportsman, it just never interested me. The problem was that growing up, I sported both ridiculously long hair and humorously thick glasses - allowing me to attract the twin insults of 'girl' and 'nerd' on a regular basis.

Sidenote: This persisted until I was 16. I cut my hair and got smaller glasses and people started talking to me. I realised this was quite a shallow situation but, overwhelmed by the attention, made the conscious decision that I didn't care.

Given the above facts, it is safe to say that footballers were not my friends. In fact, emboldened by their prowess and popularity, they were the loudest of my attackers.

Sidenote: Yes, I realise this is all very self-indulgent. What else are blogs for? I'm am at work and I don't want to work. What else can I do?

Strangely, no matter what these sporting elite subjected me to, it never seemed to truly get under my skin. Why? Because I felt on some level that I was better.Through teenage years yelling, screaming, cursing and generally being a crass, idiotic dickhead seem downright impressive. But I knew that, one day when we all went out into the real world, my ability to read, write and reason would far outway their ability to be a fuckwit. Surely their behavior, at the time applauded by their legion of ham-encrusted mates, would be looked down upon later in life.

That's the problem with all this, you see, as I was absolutely wrong.

Sitting at the annual football medal presentation, I was struck with how, well, 'high school' it all was.
One point of the evening involved calling out the names of players who had excelled for one reason or another. As the names were called, tables would erupt with fists pounding on wood, whoops, hollers and loud proclamations that the man had succeeded because of his giant penis, tiny penis, homosexuality, femininity, stupidity or what have you.
What really struck me though, was that the people presiding over this event were cheering on this behavior, laughing at the jokes, clapping at the hilarious pranks and generally getting into the hoodlum spirit.

I wanted to write this to warn future generations. Don't be fooled into thinking that the idiots you meet will be penalised for the things they do. Be aware of something I wasn't. Every weekend they're going to a club full of people who are doing the same things. Older generations are encouraging and applauding this behavior.

So that's the point I suppose. You can't change people whether you love them or hate them. People change themselves.
If you get a round of applause for drinking a litre of vodka and smashing a glass onto your face, you'll keep doing it.