Mr Bean reminds me of me

A few nights ago I was struck by the sudden realization of what is quite an awkward fact;

Mr Bean reminds me of myself.

That's not really something anybody wants to think, is it? But as I watch some guy lose his ponytail and a couple of guests run away on New Years Eve after being served pieces of a tree and vinegar in a wine glass, that's the conclusion I reached.

Why? It's simple, really.

Mr Bean messes up. And when he messes up, he doesn't give up and run away. No, he does everything in his power to fix the problem. He does whatever he can to avoid facing up to his mistake. He refuses to believe that it's all over, that he's got to admit that he's stuffed up.

You know what I reckon? We laugh while we watch this guy not because it's utterly hilarious, but because we relate. We relate to the fact that we're not always understand, that it's hard to explain ourselves sometimes. We get the fact that we want to be better than someone else and then end up looking, well, not better. It's so easy to understand the way he felt when that man in the picture there started walking and caught up with him on the bike there in like, two seconds flat -- because sometimes you just can't get away fast enough.

The best part about Mr Bean, though? He walks away like everyday is just as wonderful as it was when he woke up that morning, before his brain even started functioning. I crack up in Mr Bean's Holiday. When Mr Bean trips over that guys coffee and gives him that look as if to say, "You've got to be joking. I can't believe you put your coffee right there. Right where I had to walk." And the poor guy who is now coffee-less just stands there, filming Mr Bean as he gets onto the train.

 You light up my path, O God

You guide my feet, in the direction I should go

You hold my hand 

and You 

never let go