How things change

When I lived in the 'States (back in the '70s) I went to visit my dad's work at White Plains, Westchester, NY. Someone must've printed me up a laminate for the day, 'cos here I am looking like a right cutie even with a couple of teeth missing.

Right through college and university, I always said the two things I would never do for a living were a) work with computers like my dad, and b) work in a shoe shop like the one my dad bought when he retired. (The former resolution meant I wanted to be, variously, an actor, a pop star, a poet, a writer, a radio presenter. The latter might've been something to do with watching A Taste Of Honey as a kid.)

Lo and behold, nearly thirty years on.

I'm not sure what this proves. Perhaps, that I have failed. (I haven't worked in a shoe shop yet. But if this freelance lark doesn't work out...)