Warning: This post contains virtually no tea. May contain traces of self-analysis, narcissism and Dr Phil moments.
I am about to paraphrase what someone said to me.
Now, I know that you expect hard-hitting, no-holds-barred, 100% accurate reportage from me, as I am known as a fearless warrior for the truth about tea.
But I am forced to paraphrase.
You see, I said something in a tea geek hangout, and then someone replied, and then someone agreed with me, and then the person who had replied replied again, and then I started making my point with increased boldness, and a lovely dash of condescension, a hint of arrogance and a soupçon of sarcasm – because that’s how I created myself to be; a naughty boy of tea who embraces iconoclasm in a way that only someone who has swallowed both a dictionary and an astonishing amount of tea can achieve.
Then I finished my last blog “Eleven Golden Permissions” and inspired by the hangout, I added some material that continued in the same vein.
If you think I’m getting to my point anytime soon, you may need to relax.
Then I did a bit of banter on Twitter AND on Google+, as I am an equal opportunity iconoclast.
Next thing I know, the double-replier (mentioned way back in paragraph four) posted something on Google+ which suggested he had been a little hurt by some of the opinions expressed.
Not necessarily the one I alone expressed, but since he had gone to the trouble of reading “Eleven Golden Permissions” and nay-saying some points, he clearly felt I was across the net from him on this issue.
I hated the thought of upsetting this particular individual, and so engaged in a conversation which eventually led to puns in Chinese and offers of small mountain goats, which just goes to show something, though I’m not sure what.
I was also concerned – am I a witty thought-provoking imp, or am I a buffoon? Is both an option? Kings had jesters who hid pearls of wisdom within japery, didn’t they?
Anyway, the time for the following week’s hangout came about and I participated and then eventually it just came down to me chatting to the two guys I had (good-naturedly) teased, ridiculed and condescended to – on my way to making what I thought were some pretty good points, of course.
POINT IMMINENT – If you realise how long it has taken me to get to this point, imagine if I had included 12 tweets, 23 G+ comments, two blogs and the transcript of two 2-hour hangouts. Hence my need to paraphrase.
At the end of all this, this guy (the twice-aforementioned double-replier originally mention in paragraph four) basically said, though not in these exact words – or not in any of them:
“But you’re not a tea expert – you’re a storyteller. And that’s OK.”
I opened my mouth, but my brain engaged first.
And just like that, the opportunity for a fantastic, sarcastic, iconoclastic, bombastic riposte slipped away, as I thought:
There’s a chance you’re right…
And that’s OK.
Is it OK?
I need to stop missing these hangouts! And I think it is ok. I also happen to think you are an expert on tea. You have more knowledge than I have.
Hope do I get in on these handouts? I feel like I am missing some fun stuff here.
Check Twitter and Google+ the times are usually announced Saturday/Sunday, I think they are Sunday afternoons around 4ish ET…but I haven’t been in so long I don’t recall anymore.
I think it’s okay. Of course, this is coming from me – the resident, fence-sitting village idiot.
What to say?
Well i’ll start by revealing I began to write today my topic “Tea Talk” the focus very much what you have mentioned above, though from another perspective. I may continue to write it but at this point I realize before I put pen to paper I must find the humor.
A storyteller eh, I don’t remember the comment but I could have stepped away.
I’ve read and continue to read more about tea from tea tasting reviews to history to add to my knowledge.
Participation in the Sunday sessions is also a part of this process.
Storyteller eh, well I could be wrong, but the history of tea is steeped in stories. Lovely folkloric stories of tea drinking to the mysteries of how teas were named.
Widely known is the story of Iron Goddess of Mercy.
Storyteller eh?
Well knowledge gained is nothing if not shared and good stories last for centuries.
Keep the stories coming.
That enjoyment was far from being, as your tweet threatened, dubious! Now, as to the specific points you bring up: I am not yet an expert on tea. In fact, I am so far from being an expert as to believe I could someday become one.
However! I have read a little bit here and there, and I am currently sitting in the lotus position. So I feel qualified, at least, in presenting you with this quote, translated from Lù Yǔ’s great Chá Jīng by Mr. Francis Ross Carpenter. In his chapter addressing “The Manufacture of Tea,” Lù Yǔ appeals to the reader thusly:
So, perhaps Lù Yǔ is something of a spiritual forebear of Mr. Alex Neckham?
But wait! Here’s how he prefaces the above squirrel-creeper:
Ah! Perhaps, after all, he is more a spiritual forebear of Mr. Robert Godden.
More importantly, I think, is the sentiment with which Lù Yǔ finishes the chapter:
If I am an expert on any subject, it’s probably on that of the now thrice-aforementioned double-replier, and I can tell you with great certainty that he thinks “both,” indeed, is not only an option, but a great one. (After all, legend has it that before becoming the patron saint of tea, Lù Yǔ ran away and joined the circus!) Not only that, but I have personally discussed with this fellow, on at least as many occasions as he has now been aforementioned, his admiration not only for the art and wit you apply to the written word, but your prolificness and good heart.
In conclusion, I agree with @jopj.
But stories can be true too, no?
The fact that you even wrote this post, shows that you are a good person Robert. I enjoy the hangouts, and am looking forward to talking to you all.
I think this is a real great article. Want more.