humour

A Quarter of a Century

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My father came home one day, very excited with a new invention, Velcro! He worked in plastics, but I’m not sure if the plastic factory where he was manager actually produced it. Looking up Velcro I see it was commercially available in the fifties, but to us in the late 1960s it was a novelty. He kept trying to find ways of using Velcro around the house. 

More exciting inventions lay ahead of course, Dad once said that he would like to live to a hundred to see what would be invented. Sadly he only got past seventy. August 2025 he would have been one hundred and I have thought for a while it would be interesting to think of how many new inventions he has missed. This is rather an overwhelming task; there is a difference between something being invented and most people being aware or getting to use it.

2025 also marks a quarter of a century gone by, whether 25 is the last year of the quarter or the first year of the next, doesn’t really matter. I can remember when, thanks to George Orwell, 1984 was The Future, then 2001 A Space Odyssey confirmed the start of a new century as the obvious FUTURE when we would be living in plastic bubbles on the moon.

All that seemed to happen at the turn of the century was the panic that all the computers would get confused and everything would be switched off. At work we were seriously considering whether we should all go home and fill the garage with tins of food and flagons of water. Chez Gogerty we didn’t in the end and luckily all was well.

How has life changed in those twenty five years? Before the millennium I naively thought the twenty first century would be one of peace after all the violence of the twentieth, how wrong could I be. We can definitely conclude that humans have tried everything to make the world a better place, following faith, education, new political ideas, better medical treatments, scientific improvements. Alas new inventions are hijacked by criminals and war mongers as well as doctors and scientists hoping to improve lives.

So what in your life is vastly different from 2001 AD or CE .

I seem to recall saying at the end of last century that had I known home computers were going to be invented, I would not have got married let alone had children! I cannot recall why. Probably children arguing over whose turn it was to use the one computer and me saying everyone was spending too much time on that ghastly second hand machine with green writing, my memories are hazy. I do know that fathers were saying they should get a computer for the children, when they actually wanted one for themselves.

Now of course I can’t imagine not having a computer and iPad and panic if I forget my phone, even if I am just popping to the greengrocers.

What has changed in your life over the past twenty five years?

Thursday Thoughts from the Unherd

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Here we are, standing shivering, wondering why we have been woken up before sunrise. TV cameras intruding just to please breakfast television, then the reporter has the cheek to say

‘Of course these chaps don’t feel the cold, they come from the Antarctic.’

I come from Bristol and my feet are frozen.

Yup, same with us. There they are in their Alpine designer outdoor wear talking about our fur coats keeping us warm in the Gobi desert. They don’t even keep us warm in English snow, let alone the Gobi, not that I have ever seen an actual desert.

Don’t know why they were so surprised we had a baby, we’ve known for ages, chose a name weeks ago. Now they have the cheek to announce a competition to name OUR baby.

She’s right, taking away our dignity and identity, trying to disconnect us from thousands of years of family tradition, the proud name of our clan. They have no fashion sense then laugh at our stripes. Then the ultimate insult, what name do they give us? ZEBRAS! How ridiculous a name is that.

It could be worse, what about me. Miss know-it-all reporter is telling everyone I’m going to give birth to a mammoth. I thought they had laws against offensive remarks. There is nothing more insulting you can call us than Mammoth. There is a very good reason those hairy idiots died out millennia ago.

Thursday Thoughts – What Is Real Life?

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If you live in a city or suburb you will probably hope to get away for a change of scenery. As you stand on top of a moor, hearing only sheep bleating, you will say to yourself ‘This is Real Life.’ The same thoughts will surface if you stand on a rocky outcrop feeling the spray from the waves pounding below, or perhaps you have visited a peaceful holy island, Iona or Lindisfarne.

Supposing you move somewhere remote and idyllic, or to the coast and can saunter down to the beach on a wild winter day, dodging waves. Sheer bliss. Then one day you go up to London to visit friends or relatives or for a cultural outing. As you arrive at a London terminus, descend into the underground, hear the rumble of an approaching tube train, then squeeze on board with the multitudes, you find yourself saying ‘Back to Real Life!’

Could it be that real life must involve cities, mainline railway stations and underground trains?

Those millions of us brought up in suburbs anywhere in the world are bound to feel we are never in real life; neither in the bustling heart of the city, nor in the countryside growing food and raising livestock to feed the nation.

When you turn on the television news real life takes on a different dimension. Why are your working on the cheese counter at Waitrose when that girl you were at school with is now a war correspondent standing on a heap of rubble?

Is real life the peace all great prophets have urged us to follow; cherishing the soil, creating harmony, music, arts, science and babies. Or is reality living on a knife edge beneath a volcano or on an earthquake fault line?  Are you likely to see your home swept away by fire or flood or do you face death every day in war?

Have you experienced real life or are you still waiting to find it?

What is your reality?

Friday Fiction 1000 – New Year’s Wish

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She had heard her mother talking to Aunty Lucy, a throwaway remark. They were in the garden, it was her tenth birthday party.

‘Of course poor Arabella has no imagination whatsoever.’

They were watching her younger sister Anastatia organize Arabella’s friends in some kind of fantasy adventure. Anastasia was playing the bold princess while Arabella was supposed to be a peasant girl hiding from the dragon and destined to be eaten.

‘Anastasia’s just like you were at that age’ said Aunty Lucy to Arabella’s mother. ‘We always knew you would be on the stage or become a writer.’

‘Or both’ twittered her mother.

‘I expect Arabella will take after Justin’ said Lucy unconvincingly.

The girls’ father was an artist, successful in several fields from high class book illustrations and theatre designs to proper paintings that people wanted on the walls of their homes.

‘She’s very good with her hands,’ continued Lucy ‘knitting and that little tapestry she made me.’

‘Well she has a logical mind, just following patterns…’

Thirty year old Arabella closed her eyes on the memory, closed her eyes to the television screen, then opened them long enough to press the off button on the remote control. It was Jack, her husband, who had reminded her that her mother and sister were appearing on yet another intellectual arts programme. Her family were always on television or radio, though not often together.

‘Have I missed it?’ Jack came bowling into the room.

‘No, or rather you haven’t missed much.’

She picked up her comforting knitting.

‘Is the baby asleep?’

‘Yes of course.’ Arabella laughed. ‘Just like me apparently, my mother used to say I slept through the night from two months old, always needed my sleep, then it was a shock when they had Anastasia. Mother reassured herself that the sleepless nights were because Anastasia had an overactive brain, highly intelligent.’

‘I am glad we have our ordinary little chap, heaven forbid he should turn out like your sister. I like our serene life and I am lucky to have you both.’

It was true thought Arabella, they were happy in their own little world and would snuggle up with a nice nature programme tonight, then turn over in time for Big Ben and welcome 2025. No wishes or resolutions, just thankful for what they had. Though as the bells chimed she couldn’t help wishing she had a little bit of imagination, just enough to know what it was like. Perhaps she would invent bedroom scenarios for her and Jack, she had read in magazines that couples did that. Or make up stories to tell the baby later on.

The next day they went to the big park for their traditional New Year’s Day walk, the baby safely strapped to Arabella and cosy inside her coat. A young child on a scooter whizzed by and she suddenly had a picture in her mind of the child hurtling off, hitting the bitumen head first and being attacked by the big dog she had just spotted. No sooner had this thought entered her mind than Jack suddenly bolted ahead, telling her to stay put.

A small crowd hid what was happening from Arabella’s view. Then Jack emerged with a firm grip on the dog’s collar. Several worried adults were rushing over, it was hard to tell who belonged to the child and who to the dog, until Jack handed the dog to someone waving a lead. He trotted back to his own family.

‘The poor grandparents couldn’t keep up with her…’

‘.. and she ran into the dog and fell off and seeing the creature lying on the ground revived the dog’s ancient hunting instincts and he went for her throat? And you’re a hero.’ Arabella concluded.

‘Not exactly, the dog was licking her face and she was crying because she hurt her knee.’

On the way home they passed the New Year fairground at the other end of the park. They looked up at the big rides.

‘Be a while before we take our chap on those rides’ said Jack.

‘Thank goodness, imagine if the big wheel got stuck when we were at the top’ said Arabella.

‘I’m sure the council makes sure all the rides are safe.’

‘I still wouldn’t take the chance.’

When they watched the local news that evening the fairground appeared on the screen.

Fire rescue teams were called when the big wheel stopped and could not be started. In view of the below zero temperatures, the difficult decision was taken to bring people down from the top on the fire ladders.

‘Oh I can’ t believe it, just what I imagined happening’ said Arabella.

Arabella was beginning to wonder if she had been granted imagination, was this what it was like, making things happen. She dismissed the thoughts from her mind.

The next day was an outing to the pantomime with Jack’s sister and family. Arabella thought the baby was a bit young, but had been reassured that it was a special calm performance for autistic children like Jack’s nephew or deaf children, or anybody that didn’t like screaming and shouting on stage or off.

‘Sign language, subtitles and miming, the baby will just sleep through it. We’re at the back of the top circle apparently, in case we do have to take the baby out.’

Arabella had not realised just how high up they would be in the top circle.

‘Thank goodness we’re at the back, I wouldn’t like to be in the front row and those steps down are so steep, if you weren’t careful you could go hurtling over.’

As soon as her words were uttered a small child flashed by running and whooping down the steps, ignoring his frantic mother who was yelling at him to stop. There was a collective gasp from others getting settled in their seats. Luckily the child was shorter than the barrier wall and collided with it, but the momentum his mother had picked up propelled her straight over. Any hope of calm had evaporated.

Silly Sunday – Gifts Galore

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How was your Christmas? Did you see Father Christmas?

Did you get the gifts you wanted?

Did you have any unusual presents?

You may well have had a radio controlled lizard as Amazon apparently sold out.

Perhaps you had a gift voucher for an outdoor sauna in the fog, with the opportunity to sit in a barrel of cold water or thrash yourself with branches.

Train sets are always popular in a variety of sizes…

Especially one that goes with your new Lego set

Or maybe you had something unusual…

…such as a sarcophagus…

What was the most unusual present you gave or received?

Fun Friday – Wrapping Up The Week

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Luckily I had Elf to help and I’m not going overboard with presents this year.

I am going away tomorrow morning, time to let the blog unwind…

The worst travel weekend of the year?

Whether staying home, going away or avoiding Christmas all together, cards are probably going to be involved. Plenty of people have ceased to send them, especially with the cost of postage. But it is nice to get them. A lot of stress is involved. Are you brave enough to stick to your resolution not to send ANY or do you feel guilty when your ninety year old aunt sends you one? Have you arrived at work, your first Christmas at that job and realised everyone has brought cards and gifts in. Do you monitor incoming cards, save last year’s and make a list of the deserving. You could be ruthless and cut out people you never see or want to see again, hopefully they will stop sending as well.

Did you post your cards and parcels on time? Will you panic and take out a mortgage to buy first class stamps or hope that the recipients will blame the post office when they get cards on the third of January.

Another strange custom is giving cards to neighbours who you see anyway. Though at this time of year it’s too dark to see anybody or they are all rushing round doing Christmassy things. Actually putting cards through doors is fraught with difficulty. If you live in a country with post boxes by the road you miss the fun of venturing up neighbours’ front paths or trying to gain access to their block of flats. This is the only time you get to see what lies behind the high hedge, or peep through a front window. But the aim is to post the card and get away before the neighbour spots you, thus avoiding having to engage in conversation. When you get to the front door you wonder how the postman copes with those awful bristles that trap your hand in the letterbox. If you are really unlucky you will be inches from the door when it suddenly opens and three dogs jump on you, excited to be going out for their walk. Perhaps you can’t find the front door, or it’s a corner house and you can’t work out where the gate is let alone the front door. Then you have to find number ten down the end of the road and post a card on behalf of your elderly neighbour. You don’t know the people and nobody at that end of the road seems to have numbers on their door… Good luck with your card rounds…

Whatever you are doing, enjoy the rest of the year. Who can believe we have a quarter of a century coming soon!

Silly Saturday – Handy Hints

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Are you getting excited about Christmas?

Stuck for gift ideas? Why not give them an interesting model that’s easy to make.

Or something hand knitted, you needn’t let on who actually knitted it.

For the person who’s got everything, a new gadget.

Christmas is a time for old friends to get together...

…so have a relaxing day, no need to be formal.

Just chill out.

But lots of people still like to bake and get ready … overheard on the bus, a great grandmother and her daughter chatting… ‘I’ve put the Christmas cake mixture on top of the wardrobe because of the mice, but you’ll have to get it down.’ ‘Will I need two arms, because I’ve only got one working.’

If you can’t face visitors for Christmas, just pretend you’re going on a skiing holiday and post a few pictures on Facebook.

Don’t forget to make sure your elf stays warm.

But be careful in the kitchen.

Don’t forget to post lots of pictures of your home on social media or sneak a few pictures of other people’s Christmas trees.

And finally, if Father Christmas is late, it could be because the reindeers are stuck in traffic.

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Elf and Safety

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Debby paused with the kettle in her hand. She had seen a flash of red in her smart grey and white kitchen. There it was again, she must hurry up and make that appointment at Specsavers. She took her glasses off, polished the lenses then put them on again, only to see a flash of green and red. Blinking she looked around the kitchen and that was when she saw it, sitting on the mug shelf, one of those ghastly elves that parents moved around the house in December to spy on their children. Now she had her own Elf on the Shelf, but how on earth did it get there, she had taken a bone china mug down seconds ago to make her tea and it wasn’t there then. They had baskets full of them at the garden centre, but she hadn’t bought one. Her grandsons hadn’t been here for a week and it was hardly likely the girls next door had sneaked in when they came to retrieve their netball from the back garden. Well he might as well stay up there till Fergus and Hamish came round tomorrow, she would tell them the elf was watching over to make sure they behaved. Not much hope of that working, but worth a try. She wasn’t allowed to call them naughty boys, according to her daughter they just did naughty things occasionally, especially when she dumped them round at Debby’s. Rather ironic that Debby had been delighted to have a daughter, easier than bringing up boys she assumed and not thinking that a daughter might produce boys she would have to get involved with.

As she sat and relaxed with a cup of tea in the lounge she could not believe what she saw when she looked up from her newspaper. The elf was on top of the curtain rail. Perhaps she needed a brain scan as well as an eye test. Or was she an unknowing participant in a reality television show, her reactions being filmed, but who could have sneaked in here ahead of her. She could not reach the elf to see if it was battery operated. The best thing to do was go in the other room and catch up with her emails and other stuff on the computer, maybe look up elves or practical jokes.

The only practical joke was played by the elf as he suddenly leapt onto the screen from behind. This time Debby could see him all too clearly, not a stuffed toy, or battery operated. His eyes blinked, his lips parted and his cheeks blushed pink as he chuckled in a tiny voice.

‘Hello, what’s your name?’

Now she was really going mad, talking to him, did he say Alf or Elf? Before she could say anything else to him he leapt down and used the desk lamp cable like a zip wire. She soon lost sight of him. This was worse than having a mouse in the house, far creepier with no idea where he might pop up next and who did one report infestations, elfinfestations to?

 Debby started looking up myths and history of elves, but could not believe she was seriously considering that elves were as real as any other creature on the planet, but where did any myth originate from, a kernel of truth surely. She imagined herself being on an intelligent Radio 4 programme, the first person to discover a live elf. Debby did not see him again that evening and carried on with her normal routine; perhaps she had imagined it all.

When she woke up in the morning and saw Alf Elf sitting on the pillow she stifled a scream. Too close for comfort. Debby shook herself and recalled she had once imagined being a naturalist; she should observe not frighten the poor little chap away, though he did not look scared at all. How did one get hold of a scientist, that one on her favourite radio programme perhaps. But she had a sinking feeling as reality struck. How on earth would she explain to her daughter, she would think she had early onset dementia.

Everything was ready for the grandsons’ visit, breakables put away, the least annoying toys out and she had read the instructions for the junior Christmas decoration creating kit. All that was left was to explain about the elf, would her grandsons be excited, impressed…

‘Bye Mummy’

‘Love you.’

Why did modern parents have to say that every time they went out the door, she was only leaving them for two hours thought Debby.

‘Hamish, Fergus, I have a really big surprise for you today, well not big, very small actually…’

They weren’t listening and had already disappeared to search for the Lego. It wasn’t long before she heard the familiar arguments.

‘I had that piece first.’

’Granny, he pulled my head off.’

Where was the elf, she was suddenly worried for the poor little chap’s safety. She crept along the hall, into the dining room, no sign of Alf, then into her little sun lounge, the only room where Lego was allowed. And there he was, playing Lego with the boys, who were so fascinated they had stopped arguing.

‘Granny, you’ve got a real elf, I’ve never seen a live one’ said Hamish.

‘I told you elves were real’ said Fergus.

‘Be very gentle with him, he’s so small.’

‘Can I take him for Show and Tell?’

‘Oh no, I think school would be far too scary for him, in fact I think we better keep him secret.’

Sunday Stroll at the Seaside

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Take a stroll round to the harbour…

And pop inside…

It’s high tide today, but if it was low tide…

You would see this…

One I took earlier, seven years earlier…

Find out who it is later.

In the meantime…

In November they looked like this.

Before you go any further make sure you read the safety instructions!

Do you dare put your hands in the bag?

Time for coffee

Where are you?

https://turnercontemporary.org/

Turner Contemporary, Margate, Kent

And who was he?

https://turnercontemporary.org/whats-on/another-time/

Antony Gormley

Have you been here?

What is your favourite gallery?

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Breaking Free

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’You don’t have to walk all the way back up, we can get the Noddy Train, but I thought you liked walking?’

John’s parents and his children all looked relieved.

‘We aren’t as young as we were and what with my knee and your father’s hip…’

‘And this bitter wind coming straight off the sea’ added John’s father.

‘Can we still have hot chocolate Daddy?’

‘That’s usually the bribery to get them back up to the café’ said John.

‘I think we all need hot chocolate,’ said his mother ‘I hope that café is still open.’

‘With marshmallows and cream?’ said Johnny Junior.

‘And a cake’ added his sister.

‘We must not spoil your appetites for that delicious dinner your Mummy is cooking for us.’

‘All that lovely sea air has sharpened our appetites’ said their grandfather, wrapping his scarf tighter.

Squeezed in one of the little carriages of the road train everyone brightened up and John’s mother recalled his favourite book.

‘I bought it at a jumble sale, The Runaway Train. I had to read it over and over to your Daddy. The train was meant to take all the office workers up to London on Monday morning, but the train was fed up with the same old journey every day and decided to go to the seaside instead. The passengers didn’t notice what was happening at first, too busy reading their newspapers. That was long before mobile phones were invented and everybody read great big newspapers.  Then a few people looked at their watches, glanced out the window and wondered why they were seeing cows in the field instead of Clapham Junction! Soon all the passengers were muttering to each other as the train went faster and faster. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and they passed farms and cottages and hills. Nobody was sure what to do, one man pulled the communication cord with the notice that said emergency use only, but the train did not slow down.

‘Oh that would be fun,’ squealed the children ‘what happened in the end?’

‘Gradually the train slowed down and one of the passengers said Good Heavens, I can see the sea! Soon the train came to a halt in a lovely little station with flower tubs. Everyone got off to see what had happened and a very important and cross looking man marched along the platform to the driver’s cab, but there was no driver. They all stood on the platform scratching their heads and mumbling about getting to the office. Then someone started laughing and pointing to golden sands and the glittering sea… We will never get to work on time so let’s go to the beach instead.

Gradually they all wandered onto the beach and some took off their shoes, rolled up their trousers and started paddling, while others went to buy ice creams and fish and chips.

After a fantastic day, with everyone having fun and agreeing it was much better than going to work, they thought it must be time to go home. At the station the engine had turned itself around on the turntable and was steaming up so they got on board…’

‘Have you still got that book Daddy?’

‘No, that was a long time ago, but maybe that’s why I always wanted to live at the seaside and not work in an office.’

As the road train trundled up towards the café Johnny Junior said ‘Maybe this train is fed up with never going anywhere except back and forth to the beach, maybe it wants to go to London.’

They all laughed as the train drew up by the café and the driver climbed out of his cab to see if anyone needed help getting out. But before John had even opened the door of their carriage, the train started moving again, faster and faster. The last thing the family saw was a surprised look on the driver’s face as he tried to run after the train, but it was going much too fast.

‘Hurrah said,’ Johnny Junior ‘I told you the train was fed up, we’re going on an adventure.’

‘Can’t you do something John.’

‘Don’t worry mother, just a technical hitch, the battery will run down soon and the driver will have called for a mechanic.’

‘When can I have my hot chocolate Daddy?’

They drove down a pleasant avenue with pretty gardens and a few people waved to them. The children waved back. Then the Noddy Train turned right onto a busy road on a steep hill. As the train headed downhill they went faster and faster. Horns were tooting and they heard a siren in the distance. Even little Johnny was beginning to feel scared.

‘And finally tonight police are still searching for a seaside road train, known locally as the Noddy Train and apparently hijacked from a local beauty spot. Our reporter spoke to the shocked driver.’

‘I had just alighted from the train to help a disabled passenger disembark when it started moving. I had left the brakes on, it was on level ground and nobody had got into my cab. I tried to get back to my cab, but it was going much faster than it is capable of. None of this makes sense. Not a single passenger had managed to alight.’

‘Can you reassure family and friends that the passengers will be safe?’

‘No.’

‘Hmm, back to the newsroom to see if there is any update.’

‘The last sighting was junction 67 of the motorway an hour ago. Police are sure there will be drivers who have captured images on their dash cams. In the meantime there is a helpline if you are worried about relatives who may be on board.’