Until around my mid-thirties I was used to being at the top table. By that I mean that there was usually an involvement or an activity where I was able to distinguish myself. This was the case from early on. In the days of selective hierarchies of academic merit I got the accolades. I may not have quite appreciated it then but it was special status. So was being chosen for prefect. When a boy and girl was to be picked to represent the school at some event, I was the boy.

High school was similar. Academic success continued to attend me alongside an emergent popularity with the lassies, an uncanny development given my fey demeanour and near girlish appearance. By the end of school days I had a thriving social life and enjoyed the love and respect of a good, solid peer group. This lead to being in a band which was always good for raising the stakes of a young man’s kudos. I was somewhat leader of the pack. During that time I worked for the family business and with my father and uncle as bosses got preferential treatment.

After that I went to radio, broadcasting itself being an exclusive domain. Even within that setting I was part of an elite team of musical types who made their own rule. All through that period and for years after I ran a recording studio with some of my same old mates from school. Here I wasn’t just at the top table but at the head of it, a position which brought more esteem and social standing.

So, for much of my life, being part of some elite or other was invariably the story. I don’t list these things by way of a boast. I’m not sure that at any given point I would have been especially aware of any status. I say it only on reflection as a way of adding to an explanation for why I am so out of sorts these days, currently not sitting at any table at all.

Perhaps one should not appear proud of the need to be distinguished. On the other hand, maybe everyone needs to feel important in some way.