All you don't need is lurv.

It places demands on quality when you see that someone has decided that these ramblings are worth following for some obscure reason I couldn't possibly fathom, and that people, both friends and kids at school ask for more. What on earth is there about what I put down here that can possible be worth following? The old adage "get a life" springs to mind, but please don't answer the question. Sometimes it is best not to know the answer.
There has been a lot of talk about love, sex and relationships in my English second year. They have produced oral presentations loosely based on the reality telly concept and although most of them are too short, there is a remarkable amount of very good English lying about waiting to be harnessed in a sensible way. But I mentioned sex, and you dear reader are thinking, "so get on with it then". I will probably disappoint you because I have no intention of talking about sex in a public domain like this one. But love is permitted. Being of the decidedly older generation, and feeling it more and more as I learn more and more about what these kids get up to in their spare time, I see how little our attitudes and opoinions about love have changed. This is reassuring of course, some people say that youngsters are more cynical than we used to be, partly due to easily available contraception, looser morals advocated on the television and cinema, and a general debilitating of society generally. Hearing my "lill'darlin's" with their reality telly talks has demonstrated that I am wrong to think like that, at least to a large extent. The kids seem to think just like we did...and still do. The value of self respect is still prized, and even though Elin and Marita were pushed to define the difference between "whore" and "slut", something I had trouble grasping, I understood that we could still talk the same language and agreed on the main principles involved. Interesting. And the fact that they could talk about this with a supposedly old fart like teacher is a compliment I suppose. At least I like to think so.
But all this got me to thinking of all the scars these kids will get in their love lives as the years go by and this is where the difference lies. The emotions are the same, but the older we get, the more we learn from the experiences, not so pleasant most of them, that we are put through by this strange emotion called love. It hits everybody...no-one gets away with not being hurt or rejected...or hurting or rejecting, which can be just as difficult to get over. The thing about being older is that you know it is going to happen, like thunder following lightening, and you just have to bend down, take cover, and wait for it to wash over you and leave you high and dry, with yet another scar. This jumble of metaphors just goes to show how complex this business is. Believe me. I've been there! The Knut Hamsun anniversary would normally interest me about as much as the lottery numbers in the Czech Republic, but because an old flame is one of the organisers at the National Library, I watched the news reports on the television last night with more than usual attention. Didn't see her though. But then, when I think about it, I haven't seen her for eleven years and who knows what she looks like? Not everyone stays the same like I do. It would be nice to have a coffee or something but I suspect it would all be very embarrassing. After all, the factors involved in a close relationship with a member of the opposite sex (in my case anyway) are factors you don't normally air in public. What else did we talk about and do, anyway? I can't remember. There is a moral to this somewhere and I don't think it belongs in a blog.
And all this lies in the future for these kids I enjoy spending a couple of hours with every day. They haven't lived the time-span necessary to be able to look back with fond memories, stroking the figurative emotional scars which gave so much pain at the time but which are almost a comfort to feel today. Are you reading this? Then take the advice of an old geezer!