The Tortoise and the Barlow

Gary Barlow is my new obsession.

Not in a 'I want to have sex with him way' (though I do and I would) but because here is an example of someone who has really grown into himself as time has past and that's not something you often get to see. The world often throws examples of youthful prodigies, people who are handsome and talented and successful and I, for the most part, unabashedly hate them. I loathe hearing stories about people who are the same age (or, even worse, YOUNGER) than me and have got their shit together a lot faster. People who have achieved some great feat; had books published, written beautiful, popular songs, attained notoriety in their chosen field of expertise - whether it be in science or comedy or hot dog eating contests.

These people make me sick. 'What the fuck have I been doing the last 26 years when these bastards come along and make me feel bad by achieving stuff. Wankers' I think, not particularly eloquently, to myself. Well, the answer is that they have been doing something whereas I have been doing nothing. When they decided to write a book or a song or climb a mountain they actually went and did it rather than wasting half a day looking at dogs in bee costumes on the internet and then going for a nap.

But then along comes Gary Barlow and he makes me feel about 100 times better about myself.

Not because he didn't do shit all for the first quarter century of his life, because he did. He wrote songs and wore jumpers and toured working men's clubs in Lancaster. That counts as something but even through the early 'appealing-to-the-gay-market' jelly years in Take That he always looked vaguely uncomfortable with himself and who he was. He never quite fit the mold Nigel Martin Smith had decided his merry band of boy toys needed to be. His eyes always shone with the quiet desperation of a man who'd rather be at home with a nice cup of tea rather than someone dressed in gimp wear clutching at himself in his 'special places'. The other four may have been just as unhappy with their lot but willing to put up with it for the fame, drugs, and sex it brought them but they also had the natural ease that comes with being young and good looking. Gary liked to wear jumpers and drink tea and was a bit podgy. I was/am one of this gang and I can tell you one thing for sure: natural ease is not a part of it. Natural ease is China and we are the Shetland Isles. That's how far apart natural ease and the jumper/tea/podgy brigade are away from one another.

Additionally, in my role as amateur psychoanalyst I believe a lot of the tension that arose from Robbie and Gary was that Robbie had just as much self-doubt and self-hatred as Gary but instead of using that as an opportunity to bond Robbie decided to just make Gary feel worse in order to make himself feel better. I also think that maybe Robbie would quite like to put his mouth on Gary Barlow's mouth but that might just be me confusing my sexual fantasies with my analysis of a situation I know nothing about (this happens more often than is probably healthy).

However, whereas Robbie turned his self-loathing outwards, which in turn made it all the more forceful when it eventually got turned inwards (it always does in the end my friends. Trust this). Gary went away, got married, made a shit load of money from royalties, had some adorable children and put some effort into becoming a good dad and husband and became happy with all the things about himself that had made him doubtful when in Take That, which meant that he suddenly got really fucking hot. If you'd have told me ten years ago that Gary Barlow would be the member of Take That I fancy the most I would have openly laughed in your stupid Gary Barlow loving face. I would have told all my friends and family about the weirdo loser who held the mistaken belief that Gary Barlow was going to come through all the taunts, all the tears, all the traumas and end up being a person I would like to marry and have a lot of sex with. When I was sat in a pub and a Take That song came on I would bring up the time some Gary Barlow fan waxed lyrical about how hot Gary Barlow was going to become in subsequent years and ask the assorted people supping alcoholic beverages with me that 'wasn't that the weirdest fucking thing you can ever imagine anyone saying?' 'Yes', they would reply, 'what the fuck were they on to say something as ridiculous as that?' 'I have no idea' I would say, and then carry on miming the words to Relight My Fire.

Well, egg on my face. I just think it's lovely to see someone approaching (in?) middle age and looks like their enjoying life more than they ever did. It gives me hope that the best is yet to come and I haven't squandered my youth after all.

It's just like the story of the tortoise and the hare except with homoerotic undertones, gimp wear and jelly being integral parts of the story. Although I haven't read any Aesop for a while so, as far as I know, all that is actually in the Tortoise and the Hare.