To change is not necessarily to lose one’s identity; to change sometimes is to find it.
George Brown Tindall
There are some things in life that you should realise are now beyond you. Trampolining is one, tantric sex another and jogging should have been on my list ages ago.
I’ve always hated running, it seemed so pointless without a ball to chase like a demented dog. What possessed me, on the hottest day of the week to go for a jog, I have no idea.
Regardless, I donned my kit and walked towards The Scruffy, a warm-up of sorts, more temptation than the Garden of Eden.
Seeing Budweiser already in the beer garden – home working was definitely working for him – I kept out of sight, shamed by my madness. When you are about to wheeze like an old train and sweat buckets, anonymity is preferable.
The unmistakable giant frame of old teammate Birtsy appeared, lumbering down for a pint; it was not what I needed. He later told Budweiser: “I was walking faster than he was running.” He was going downhill towards a pint it must be said.
I avoided several school kids all doubtless wondering if I was packing a wallet and iPhone that they could retrieve from my body up the road. Passing namesake Joe, his lady was incredulous.
“It’s too hot!”
“I know” I wheezed as the first hill appeared.
Had it had a handrail I would have gladly grabbed hold; I was barely 1/2 mile into my targeted three. On I plodded, head down, wishing I had worn a cap and dark glasses or better still a burka. Young Geoffrey stopped his museum like Ford Granada Estate.
“I can fit a coffin in the back!”. Remembering my Mum’s advice never to stop for old men in even older cars I staggered on.
I was close to my Mum’s but saw no reason for her to see her eldest on the brink. An old bloke jogged past – bastard – as my legs finally gave in with half the route left.
I walked disconsolately home, tempted by the long way just to avoid Budweiser and the rest of a thronging beer garden. This was it, no more running for me unless I had a sex change and became a labrador..
All The Colours of the Rainbow
Following my criticism of the BBC last week, in particular, their insistence on recruiting presenters ticking certain boxes and sounding as if addicted to helium gas, protesters stormed my property.
I came home one afternoon to find gaily – pun, what pun – coloured flags festooned in my garden amongst the very diverse beetroot and lettuces. Perhaps the plastic bottles, used to scare the fat pigeons away, were too white? I put Lucozade and Ribena on my list.
Inside my greenhouse was a giant flag of the same colours; is this the new BBC flag?
This had followed a worrying weekend when a lady in bovver boots sporting a fierce crew cut appeared behind me at The Scruffy and suggested I might like to try a Novichok & Tonic. I was shaken and stirred.
Occupying Free Speech Corner last Sunday, several of us mused how the opinions of the average white male are now so unpalatable. I’m just glad there are no statues of me.
Community Asset Transfers – CATs
An article last week suggested Bradford has the highest level of CATs in the country. This is basically where the running of a building – though not ownership – is passed to a community group. The alternative is generally a loss to the community.
As ever there was a prepared statement from Cllr Comical Head of Degeneration, Cycle Lanes, Lamp Posts and Best Outcomes. “This can be the best way of delivering the best outcomes for communities.”
In other words, free them from Council ineptitude.
More BBC
Gary Lineker takes pay cut as Zoe Ball shoots up list. The highlighted article provided details of the salaries of top BBC earners which are staggering.
Zoe Ball has to be the worst radio presenter I have ever heard. In her first year post the Chris Evans era she lost over a million listeners, since recovering around a third. For that stellar performance she earns well over £1m a year.
And this is value?
And Finally
It will not have escaped most observers that a 10pm curfew in Newcastle presents challenges for the average Geordie girl; most have barely finished their nails by then.
Leave a Reply