The Old Bean Button Loving Jamboree

Post CXLI

Here’s the story of fiddling, golf, and a sock.

I must admit, drain cleaner that explodes on contact with water didn’t fill me with much confidence. I do wonder about the state of mind of the manufacturer. They’ll have had to sign that off. ‘Oh look, apparently, our product explodes on contact with water – yep, that’s fine, sell it’. It’s actually more confusing than it sounds. Because the warning label doesn’t use the word ‘explode’, more, ‘will explosively combust if contacts water’. I think that means it’ll catch fire. Which yes, is terrifying, but more to the point, how can you set water on fire? It’s insane! I don’t think it’s normal to pour drain cleaner down a drain wearing one of those nuclear silver suits. It has left me paranoid, readers. What else is unsafe? I tell you this much, I’m reading the warning label on the next thing I buy. ‘Socks – Warning, Will Combust on Contact with Feet’. Give me strength…

Drain cleaning fluid was the last thing on my mind. Actually, it was the only thing on my mind. You don’t know how you’re gonna go. You could lead a life of charity and die by drain cleaner explosion, and people would only remember you by that ridiculous end. Yes, I could die saving a child from a burning building, but equally, I could die choking on a sock. People would question for decades how I succumbed to sock suffocation. There’s nothing you can do. It doesn’t matter. Literally, nothing I do could ensure I would have a memorable death. Going by my track record, I’m seriously starting to worry. I need a quieter life. I might buy a beach hut in New Caledonia. Well, I suppose I could still suffocate on a sock, you can never get away from them. What can I say? The socks are after me. It’s a long story…

Of course, I would like to affirm that I don’t wear socks in sunny places out of some archaic Briticism, I just like wearing them. I’m, I’m not sure why. It’s remarkable any of us make it through each day. Falling out of attic hatches, catching fire, tripping over trees, being electrocuted. Any of these things could befall any of us. And they’ve all happened to me. And I haven’t even mentioned that time I got hit by a flying solid wooden boomerang. Turns out, it was just a stick. And it wasn’t an accident.

‘Live life to the full’, that’s what they say. But I think I’ve conclusively proven that it’s complete nonsense. All you can do is ‘live’. But once in a while, you come to a chapter in your life that makes you think. Makes you wonder what people think of you. Turns out, I’m a golf enthusiast.

I was just strutting down the high street, as you do. I’m trying strutting. I’m not sure if it’s working or making me look like a right plonker. And then you meet someone. A man who puts his arm around you and claims you as a brother. A friend for life. And was this man Jesus, I hear you ask. Probably. No, he was a salesman. Well, I suppose Jesus could be back as a salesman. In the North East of England. What? Stranger things have happened. Did I mention the sock incident?

“Brother! What time of age are you? Please, we are friends! Please talk to me! Come on! Why are you running away from me! We were mates! We were going to play golf together!”

I wish I was making that up but, that was what he said. Well, as crazy as it sounds, you can’t fault him for effort. I mean, I have no clue was he was flogging, but man alive, what a performance. I doth my imagery hat, and if that sounds crazy, then you clearly are undermining the sheer number of screws that salesman had loose.

It’s interesting. Do I look like a golf enthusiast? Is that what people think of me? No wonder I’m a virgin. Golf isn’t attractive to a young woman. “Hi lady, I work for Ferrari.” She thinks, ‘Wowza! He’s rich and has fast cars! His penis must be enormous’. But what about dear old me? “Hello old bean, how are you diddling? I’m a golfer.” And she thinks what? ‘Oh, dear God, he’s gonna club me to death’. I’m not saying these people are like that, it’s just a general stereotype, but it’s a hard one to shake, is my point. I also think part of my problem could be the fact that my chat up line clearly sounds like the ramblings of a mad Victorian.

I was quite depressed. What if I died tomorrow? What would be in my obituary? ‘Dearly departed Ally, gone too soon. Lover of buttons and golf enthusiast, he choked to death on a walnut. He will be sadly missed.’ You can’t control that. There are so many things wrong with that obituary. I don’t like walnuts. Yet the obituary states I choked to death, an accident. But if I don’t like walnuts, clearly somebody shoved the walnut down my throat and actually, this ‘accident’ was murder. But they’ve gotten away with it! Those pesky kids. AND I’M NOT A GOLF ENTHUSIAST! But I do like buttons.

I was heading for the bus station, and in there, I met another man, drunk and off his tits on some fairy juice, harping on about how great the ‘70s and ‘80s were. Led Zep, he went to all the concerts. Made him deaf, apparently. Didn’t stop him patting me really hard on the back and start muttering on about this golden age of rock. He was like Grandpa from The Simpsons, except it was tragic. His performance was pretty special, though.

“I WAS THERE! I LIVED THROUGH IT ALL! I EXPERIENCED THE PRISM OF THE MAGIC OF ROCK AND ROLL, BABY! I HAD IT ALL! IT NEVER ENDS! IT TORTURED MY SOUL AND I LOVED IT! AND IT MADE ME DEAF AND I DON’T CARE!”

I wonder if that’s why he was shouting.

That went on for ten minutes, by the way.

Why do I keep attracting nutters?

Our oven broke this week. Actually, it works when you pull it out from the wall, but when you push it back and try to turn it on, the power goes. I found myself crawling under various spaces and perched on top of boxes piled upon boxes. Screwing at awkward angles. Fiddling with wires that could have been live, there was no way of knowing. And, as I lay there, on a bed of bits of concrete and all sorts of debris, I found myself in a situation where I was wishing for the quieter life.

‘I’m getting too old for this crap’, I thought.

That’s when you know you’re on adult. But you know, bad luck will always find me, it finds us all. It puts us all in perilous situations that could leave our obituaries writing of tales that could cause an eternity of embarrassment. I shouldn’t worry. I shall focus on the here and now. I shall not let what others think of me determine how I live my life or sully my memory when I’m dead.

Although I really hope a sock isn’t involved…

American comedienne, actress and voice artist, best known as one of the voice actors on The Simpsons, the late great Marcia Wallace (1942-2013), once said: “I have a deep conviction that our lives are eternal, that it is waking and sleeping, that we are born together with the people we love lifetime after lifetime.”

Peace Out :|:


I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.


Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

To Contrive & Jive
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here To Read the Latest Post

Hark Around The Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here To Read the Latest Post


Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Old Bean Button Loving Jamboree

  1. Brandon

    Great. Now my worst fears are being chased by horses, drowning/suffocating, and choking on socks. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s