There's an old saying about fooling all the people part of the time and fooling part of the people all of the time, yet not being able to fool all of the people all of the time....or something like that.
Well I am one of those people who is easily fooled. A sucker, some may say.
I admit it. I am gulli-bla-holic. And, its a condition I'm working hard at overcoming. One day at a time.
I believe people, on the whole, are honest. I believe that there is more good in people than bad. And that only people in pain cause pain.
And yes, I may still believe in Santa Claus too.
I don't think I'm naive or necessarily a pushover. I just believe people are telling the truth until a big red flag hits me over the head. Unfortunately though, there have been a few occasions in my life where the red flags have had to hit me very hard to get my attention.
I'm just not your typical Australian who has a built in bull sh** detector. The lifeguard was looking the other way when I was wading in the wrong end of the gene pool.
I think I wear the gullibility badge permanently engraved on my forehead. In fact it shines like a magnetic beacon to alert those with con-like pursuits that I am a worthy target. I entice them like moths to a flame.
Now don't get me wrong. I haven't had a sheltered life. I've travelled widely. I've run companies. Met all sorts. In fact I used to manage a social security office back in the dark ages before I saw the light. I got used to seeing all sorts of con artists and liars (poverty has a strange way of doing that to some people). I've had guns pointed at me, people swearing at me, threats of physical violence and heard lots of lies. And that was just from the staff.
So, I'm not immune to the 'bad or evil' in the world. I just don't assume that every person I meet is from the same 'neck of the woods'.
Seeing this kind of flawed human behaviour up close and personal has never damaged my faith in people at large. It didn't even make a dent in my attitude. Only the odd scratch.
A recent email from my sister reminded me that this has more than likely been a life long affliction. This gullibility condition.
She sent me a series of photos from a recent fashion show.
The photos were great until I discovered THIS.
Hidden amongst the glamour shots.
Take a look at THIS.
It's the stuff of nightmares. My nightmares. And my sister knows it.
Let me explain.
When I was a child, every Australian town seemed to have a Scottish band (now I cannot explain this at all except there seemed to be an oversupply of Scottish band members who wanted to migrate to Australia, or it may be that it was a crime to be in a Scottish Band and they sent them here as convicts). Who knows, it was just the way it was. So, on days when there were special parades through the city, these bands would usually lead the charge.
It wasn't the fact they wore skirts which upset me, it was what the Drum Major wore on his head that had me shrieking and running for cover. I was terrified.
Let's take a closer look.
Tell me, what kind of animal is that? I am talking about the one on his head not on his lip.
He is wearing a bear on his head in the same kind of casual way that some people wear cats draped around their necks. They so do...... I was led to believe, by persons closely related to me, that this style of head dress was a 'living creature'.
You can imagine how I felt when years later, after having avoided such spectacles, I went to live in Scotland. The land of the Drum Major and the Lochness Monster. I feared turning every corner, just in case.... I stumbled upon....well, ....men wearing tartan skirts with bears on their heads. It should have been a warning to me because I did have a run in with a ferocious bear while there...but that's a whole other story for a whole other post.
My older sisters, also known as persons closely related to me, still think my childhood fears are ......humouress.
They are the same caring sisters who told me that Vegemite (a delicacy enjoyed by Aussies) was made of cow's blood. Yes, I believed them. If you can't believe your sisters when you're five, what hope do you have?
They also told me that there were mice in ice cubes. Yes, mice in ice cubes. I gave up ice cubes for a time too and just had my whisky straight until I was about 12 (don't email Des I am kidding...).
I recall spending hours looking at ice cubes, with a magnifying glass, trying to see if the mice would move. The hours I wasted watching those ice cubes melt......
As for Scottish bands, I hear that all my anti-fur campaigning has worked a charm and they are replacing their headgear...bearskin hats....with artificial fur thanks to the information bonny wee Scottish lassie, Kate, sent me. Please check out Kate's very funny blog, Shambles Manor. I can assure you there's not a bearskin in sight.
Meanwhile, I'm just looking forward to Christmas and seeing Santa Claus again...
PS. Any con artists out there who think I am open to manipulation.....please slowly back away from my blog....the beacon has run out of batteries..... and that includes any psychiatrists looking for new business .....although I am more than happy to give you my sisters' emails...you only have to ask.