Posted by: docdenbow | March 31, 2013

The Demise Of Winnie The Pooh My Tea Drinking Chum


“It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do. Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one. Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.”  – Jerome K. Jerome

I think I’m turning in my dotage into the sort of chap that sits back and reminisces self indulgently, sometimes with regret, at the events that have littered my existence. My memory is a somewhat odd sort of fellow, for it can name the lineup of Mott The Hoople in 1973 when the “Mott” album was recorded, yet other experiences that should have stored away for reference are missing. In fact my memory is akin to buying a DVD Boxed Set of some 10 Season American TV Drama only to find the continuous flow of episodes interrupted by a succession of cliched rock videos in lieu of the gripping stories, thus leaving one a mite confused as to what is actually going on.

I suppose that’s the problem with being a chap. A chap’s memory is rarely used in an efficient manner to ensure that the ebb and flow of life’s daily carousel is spinning as smoothly as it may. One is ofttimes asked by the Lady Of The House, known these days rather distastefully as “the Missus” or even worse “‘Er Indoors,” to perambulate to Spar to acquire some essential supplements to the household provisions, milk, bread and sugar. Of course the fellow advises the Lady that there is no need for notes to be pinned to the refrigerator or knots to be tied into handkerchiefs as an intellect that can recall that Peter Overend Watts played bass guitar for Mott The Hoople 40 years ago is hardly likely to forget that small trip to Spar.

The Lady will then take her pre-arranged trip to visit emporia exotica such as Dunelm Mill, The Range, B & M and Matalan leaving this chap in charge of the home. No sooner is the Lady out of sight then the time wasting pontificating begins. The laptop is turned on and extensive research begins to discover sundry facts about Peter Overend Watts. Having discovered that he was born in Birmingham and other such minutiae a search begins for Mott The Hoople CDs to be played in his honour for that special reason of “no particular.”

Having wrestled with the choice over several minutes, a pot of tea and 2 cigarettes a decision is made as to what CD is to be played. “The Hoople” was the choice; largely on the grounds that it features the rather eloquent indictment of the music industry “Marionette.” The Inca Tech Claymore was turned on and the CD placed delicately into the Marantz CD player. After the spectacular opening of “The Golden Age Of Rock N Roll” comes the aforementioned “Marionette.” Of course upon the conclusion of that fine song it seemed to be rude to prevent Peter Overend Watts and his chums completing their performance right up to “Roll Away The Stone,” and I politely concurred.

Undertaking to play my usual game of “musical connections” I was partway through “The Lonesome Jubilee” by John Cougar Mellencamp when the Lady Of The House returned and enquired of the whereabouts of the milk, bread and sugar. My explanation that “I’d lost track of the time” was obviously deemed to be unsatisfactory (she was certain that I had forgotten this simplest of tasks) as my favourite Winnie The Pooh mug found out to its’ cost when it flew through the air towards my head and I was forced into evasive action and watched heartbroken as it shattered into a thousand pieces upon impact with the wall.

I was enraged but The Lady Of The House had the effrontery to blame the demise of my old tea drinking chum on me, which I thought unfair, as it was not me in such a tizz that hurling a chaps’ tea drinking chum against a wall seemed to be the right thing to do. She turned on her heel and invited me in a manner unbefitting of the mantle of Lady Of The House to go to Spar before the doors are closed at the end of the days trading to get the milk, bread and sugar.

I picked up the shattered body of Winnie The Pooh who had been my loyal and faithful friend since we became chums via a Charity Shop in Kinver and laid him gently to rest. Winnie had died a hero and deserved his place amongst the shattered bodies of his comrades in arms Tigger, Grumpy, Bugs Bunny and Sylvester the Cat who had all met their end in similar circumstances.

Wiping a tear from the eye I set off to Spar only to find that it has now been taken over by J.S. Sainsbury with their hateful local stores for local people.

Ciao For Now,

Denbow

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Responses

  1. Don’t ya just hate it when that happens? I actually have a mug with “Twitter Addict” on it and I’ll cry when we are separated. Many a gallon of tea has been supped from it.

    • But is it true?

      • As a man who has 5 twitter accounts (including a piss take of an employer and a parody Forrest Gump) as well as running the works twitter account I’d say I’m pretty damn hooked. Although these days I delete as many tweets as I keep lol! Hope you’re OK mate, check your @replies I tweeted you only seconds ago. 🙂


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