Turkey Trotted

T

I keep going back in my mind to the Christmas when I was out
of work and this pal of mine said: "Do not suppose you will be
having much of a Christmas?"

I said: "If I wanted a mince pie I would have to buy it on
H.P. We will be out on Xmas Day because it is warmer out than
it is in the house. I have promised the kids we will go to
Radio Rentals to watch the Queen's Speech through the window.
Then we are going to a park to mug robins for their
breadcrumbs."

"Not having a bird on The Day then?"

"Not unless I can grab one of the robins as we steal its
breadcrumbs."

He said: "Why don't you nip down to the market just before it
closes on Xmas Eve? They practically give birds away.

"Then," he said, "come to the Press Party at the Continental
Cinema."

So I did. I picked up a chicken with my last ten bob and
went to the party. Where I set up a record for drinking free
scotch and eating vol-au-vent which was unbroken for many years.

Then this guest said: "Let's play rugby."

Another guest said: "We haven't got a ball."

A third guest said: "Yes, we have" and grabbed the parcel of
chicken from where it had been roosting under my arm.
Everyone but me applauded the skill with which the next
guest, a rather showy chap, executed a back pass with my
parcel between his legs.

I was less pleased than anyone when the next guest followed
through with a drop kick.

It was powerful, I will say that. It sent the parcel soaring
across the foyer, out into the street, over the heads of the
passers-by, to drop, perfectly positioned, under the tyre
of a passing bus.

They were all very apologetic. The manager of the cinema
particularly. He said he hoped the parcel hadn't contained
anything important. I said, no, it was just a chicken I got
for tea on Boxing Night.

For the rest of the party I was a bit thoughtful, though I
did manage to clock up a further freeloader's record of
eighteen scotch and a round dozen vol-au-vents.

At the death the manager came up and gave me a parcel. "I
hope you will accept this replacement with our apologies," he
said.

It was a twelve pound turkey. Which would have been
nice... but we didn't have an oven at the time, just a
gas grill. So we had to cook it a leg at a time.






THE EDITOR WRITES


FOR THE BAH HUMBUG XMAS HAT (given to me by the lady in the chip shop)


Dear
,
Thank you so much for the gift of a magnificent hat which accords with my deeply held resentment of what Xmas has become. I am a Buddhist so it has nothing to do with me and perhaps I ought not to complain. But I do. It is so sad that what in our childhood was such a magical time has become a Festival of Excess. It is, of course, the fault of the Americans who invented Santa Claus in the 1920s as part of an advertising campaign for a department store.

In our day people took it much more seriously. My grannie was fond of telling me how her brother taunted her by telling her there was no such person as Father Xmas. That Xmas morning he woke to find his stocking full of cinders.

I am also anti-Xmas cards which people send far too early, in the hope they will nudge you into sending them one back. I also loathe turkey which may be “bootiful” but has no taste. I would rather have your excellent fish and chips any day.

Many years ago on my BBC programme I invented the S.A.S., The Scrooge Appreciation Society, and was pleasantly surprised at the number of listeners who asked to join.

Alas, this generation is less literate. I wore my humbug hat in March and a small boy thought I was a cough sweet.

Perhaps I may still be permitted to echo the sentiments of that odious Cratchet and wish you a Merry Xmas, enjoyed, of course, with quiet dignity.



SOME THOUGHTS ON EERY EIRE

I CANNOT UNDERSTAND WHY ANYONE ISN’T EUROSCEPTIC, IF ONLY ON THE GROUNDS THAT ANYTHING HEATH ADMIRED WAS BY DEFINITION FLAWED. AND I MUST SAY I WOULD BE PRETTY PISSED OFF, IF I HAD BEEN BLOWN TO PIECES BY THE IRA, AT THE EASE WITH WHICH THEIR HEIRS, FIANNA FAILURE, HAVE GIVEN THEIR COUNTRY TO THE KRAUTS.
 



GEOFF MATHER WRITES; (read his weekly essay at www.northtrek.co)

A  little oldish fellow trudged down the drive, his feet crunching in
the snow and ice. He looked neither to right nor left. He seemed cold
and full of woe. I would have said hello, but he did not look in my
direction. When he walked off, having put something in the letter box, I
took out the single thing there - a card with a picture of some stars.
The message said: Joy to the world, the Lord is come.



TALE PIECE

Gauteng Police announced discovery of:
An arms cache of 200 semi automatic rifles with 250,000 rounds of ammo,
10 anti-tank missiles, 4 grenade launchers, 2 tonnes of heroin,
R80 million forged South African banknotes and 25 trafficked Nigerian
prostitutes, all in a block of flats behind the Hillbrow Public Library.

Local residents were stunned: "We're shocked. We never knew we had a Library!"