I think people who say they have no regrets are bollocks. If you have no regrets, then you are perfect or you are zen (vomit, vomit). Anyway, something today reminded me of a clock I saw in a secondhand shop in Christchurch once when Vincent was at a wedding and I spent the afternoon wandering around, exploring the city and trying to look nonchalant and deliberately alone while reading my book in a bar. Being in the city, the shop and the lovely, rickety building which housed it and was also home to a secondhand bookshop owned by a weirdo guy who seemed mildly annoyed when you'd walk past him, and a vintage boutique owned by the friendliest woman in Christchurch, and a unicornish massage/healing place, is now gone. And so is the clock. So here are some of my regrets (only a few, but still worth a mention):
1. The Elvis Clock. His legs moved from side to side like a pendulum. I don't know if I'll ever see one for under a hundred dollars again. Sometimes I think about it, and how I've never ever wanted a time-keeper before; I don't like being reminded of the time, and the fact that the day's slipping away from me and that I'm probably late for something. I also blame not buying it for my must-buy-might-never-see-again fear when vintage shopping, and the bag of unworn skirts in the top of the wardrobe.
2. James Brown.
He came, to the St James, and I didn't go, and then he died. I still think about it, and kick myself.
3. Not visiting people who aren't around anymore. I can tell myself I was busy, but I know I could have made time. Everytime I think of them I feel guilt, and sadness, and so much regret.
I also regret things other people do, and things we all do. And I worry a lot about not doing all the things I should be, and the time slipping away from me, and the regrets I'll have if I don't get it together. I read this today about Sue Kedgley, and it reminded me how crucial it is to do things now; it takes a long time to make an impact, and we don't know how long we have. I suppose that's the thing with regrets; they hurt, but you can learn from them. I'm going to try to visit some family this weekend, and start my plan for next year. And next time I see anything practical that is Elvis-related, it's mine.