Tuesday 16 April 2013

Quiet

I've just finished reading a book that was written about me.  I don't mean it was written specifically about me of course, as my memoirs are still being ghost-written (the working title is A Dish Best Served Cold), but the book I've just read is an owner's manual for how I work.

Quiet - The power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking by Susan Cain, looks at the critical role that introverts play in everyday life and why, contrary to the popular opinion when I was growing up, introverts should not be encouraged to become more extrovert.

One of the most interesting things I've learned from this book is that we all, introverts and extroverts alike, need to schedule regular breaks in our day for 'Restorative Niches'.  A Restorative Niche is the time we need to do something completely in line with our personality and which  recharges our batteries. An introvert at a party feels drained at the end of the evening.  An extrovert feels just as tired by long periods of solitude and quiet. The Restorative Niche brings us back to our true selves.

My Restorative Niches are all centred on time alone or with my wife.  I need quiet and, paradoxically, I need noise.  Loud music refreshes me as much as total quiet, provided I am on my own.  An evening on my own at a Rammstein gig is my idea of heaven (even though I don't particularly like Rammstein).  An evening entertaining clients who I don't know is not.

I wish this book had been written earlier in my lifetime, because it would have helped me understand myself better.  I recommend this book for both introverts and extroverts.  And if you've got quiet children it should be a compulsory read.  There's a lot in this book about how you can help introverted children.  Not by encouraging them to be more outgoing or forcing them into situations totally at odds with their personality, but by building on their strengths and teaching them to how to live in a noisy world.  If you would like to borrow it, let me know.

Saturday 6 April 2013

Vinyl

I realised today that, sometime over the past six months, I crossed a rubicon.

I popped into to Nottingham this morning for a bit of a shop. I haven't done this for a while and, if I'm in Nottingham and the love of my life isn't with me, I tend to spend some time looking at the other love of my life in Music Exchange (flicking through the vinyl) and Fopp (buying CD albums I've already got on vinyl).

Not only did I not buy anything in these two shops, but I didn't get the buzz that, until recently, I have always had when shopping for music.  I was slightly tempted by a Winifred Atwell 10inch album which was in pristine condition and looked gorgeous, but I don't particularly like Winifred Atwell and, besides, how could I get it converted digitally so that I could listen to it in the car through my iPod?

In Fopp I needed (yes, needed) to get a copy of Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD as I realised this week that I've only got them on vinyl (there are some of you reading the last sentence thinking "why does he need more than one version of an album?" and other soul-mates that are thinking "my God! Why has he left it so long to get Aladdin Sane and The Lodger on CD?").  They were each £6 and the download version is £4.99.  And all I would do is to load the CDs into iTunes and they would then gather dust.

As I browsed through other Fopp stuff it occurred to me that this really doesn't have the same attraction as it once did.  I've changed, and I believe many like me have changed.  I would be very surprised if either the Music Exchange or Fopp were still in Nottingham in 10 years' time. And I would also be very surpised if I still had my turntable and my CD player.

This made me sad.  However, my mood was lifted considerably when I checked my Twitter feed while sipping a skinny decaf caramel frappuccino and eating a biscotto in Starbucks.   One of my on-line chums who knows what pushes my buttons had recommended an album of early English royal funeral music.  I downloaded it there and then and I'm listening to it now.  I've seen the future and it's digital.