I met up with Mickey and Rose yesterday, some of you will recall that Mickey or ‘Mick the Pier’ left the homestead for Waltham Abbey so I have to keep an eye out for him. This weekend as usual I have to report back to Elaine who worries about him, or more accurately worries about ‘what Rose has done to him’.
I will be reporting that whilst not ‘on the waggon’ the memory is close enough that he is looking healthier than he has for a while and I will also be able to report that he continues to like a packed lunch. The packed lunch discussion arose because Rose generally sends Mick to work (at the local pub) with various containers of food, Mick then returns with them after work complete with contents. When we discussed the issue of packed lunches Rose was quick to point out that its only the daytime one that Mick struggles with, Mick you see is a closet Homer Simpson. When Mick retires to bed he takes provisions with him, not for him massage oils or posing pouches oh no he takes a sandwich, his bedside drawers are filled with sweets and snacks just in case. With a completely straight face Mick recounted waking Rose the other night to complain of unexpected hardness . . . the situation was resolved, he discarded the dried bread and ate the filling!
That’s the thing with an imagination, you can’t turn it off, its always there working on you. So last night my mind was running through an old 80’s TV show called ‘Through the Keyhole’ which explored the homes of celebrities, for those that watched it yes I did the voice. I pictured a devilishly dark boudoir, a large bed resplendent with scarlet silk sheets, mirrored ceiling, and dark restraints, as the camera panned a voice said ‘who would sleep in a room like this’ and a hand reached out to an oak table. As the audience rack their brains for characters from 50 shades the hand pulls on a gothic handle to open a draw, lined in the same vivid scarlet silk, the camera zooms into show us a collection of lollipops. That’s just how my mind works, be wary when you speak to me next you really will have no idea what I am thinking.
I have to steal an idea from a friend because it is so good, thank you Barbie, we should renew all licences, great eh? Every two years, your TV licence*, driving licence and your marriage licence. No new test or effort just a form to fill in where you declare that you want to renew said facility, think about it the divorce rate would drop by 95% overnight, don’t divorce just don’t renew. I think this is a genius idea and it should be implemented immediately, after all where else in life do you truly sign a single contract for life? I am pretty sure that there is a valid claim under the Unfair Contract Terms Act for marriage but that’s on my ‘if I win the Lotto’ list.
If we can’t move straight to a renewal system perhaps we can use an earlier idea as an interim, can we give both parties twenty pages of ‘did you realise’ and make them consider for a fixed period? I spent ages as a young man reading doom and gloom threats about what could happen to my home before I got my mortgage but I got none of that for marriage and that’s what cost me my home!
Passing through Stratford today I wasn’t quick enough to snap a picture of the ‘charity’ collector dressed as a squirrel or rat or some such animal. He was in the perfect pose as he nibbled at a croissant in an M&S bag, turned his nose up at it and discarded it in favour of a further rummage, perhaps we aren’t what we eat but what we wear.
*For non UK readers this is yet another UK stealth tax