Creative Writing Archives - Page 35 of 39

Hoosin Sprawl

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Nov 052010

By Bob Smith.

We’re biggin ower muckle hooses
In oor wee villages an toons
Nae for the local fowk ti bide
Bit fer incomer quines an loons

Ye see mair an mair developments
In Westhill they’ve fair gin mad
In placies like bonnie Cove Bay
It’s jist ivvery bit as bad

Fair saturated wi bricks an mortar
An cars aa aroon are fleein
It maks ye stop an wunner
At iss madness we are seein

We’re telt we need these hoosies
For fowk fa wint ti move up here
Nae word o aa the impact it’ll hae
We’ll be in sic an affa steer

We’re aa affected by iss disease
It’s name is hoosin sprawl malaise
It slowly creeps aa ower oor land
An we wait for it’s next phase

It canna be cured by a doctor
It can only be stopped by us
Fin ye hear o a hoosin application
Jist kick up a bliddy fuss

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

All You Wanted To Know About Open Uni Discos But Were Afraid To Ask

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Nov 052010

By George Anderson.

As a very mature student of the Open University my first encounter with an OU disco was a stark reminder that although youth is wasted on the young, only they have the energy to give it a good airing.

The night started well enough. Anita and Liz were on their third flagon of Pimms Number One by the time I arrived. I was just wondering how far out I should push the boat — would I start with a small Cinzano and work myself up to a pre-bed cocoa around ten or cast caution to the wind and line up thirty quid’s worth of randomly selected shots and let rip?. I was intoxicated by the choice.

Anyway, I must have gone down the ‘Let ‘em Rip’ route because less than an hour later I found myself asking Caroline to marry me by shouting in her ear during a 90 decibel rendering of some nonsense by Justin Trouser-Snake. She declined of course but she will have to live with that decision for decades after I’ve been fitted with the wooden boiler-suit and chucked into a hole in the ground back in my home village.

To alleviate the pain of Caroline’s refusal I concentrated on Katie and tried to work out where on Earth she was getting her energy from. She was dancing as if she’d just got out of Pankhurst prison on remand and the wanton abandon with which she now thrashed her arms about was a condition of her bail. Had she somehow managed to access an energy source known only to the ancients? Was she in possession of a rogue batch of ultra-concentrated Lucozade Sport?

I ran out of hypotheses to explain Katie’s adrenalin levels around the same time I ran out of steam and it was time to go before I asked Caroline to marry me again, just in case she hadn’t understood the question the first time around. I slipped away quietly, as I tend to do on these occasions, knocking over a table of drinks and falling downstairs on my way out.

Sadly, the night came too suddenly to a close. I had waited faithfully for the Disk Johnny, or whatever they call those fellows who crank the handle on the radiogramme at social functions nowadays, to play a long playing record I recognised. When finally he laid hands on ‘Can’t Touch This’ at a quarter to two in the morning, I ran all the way back to my chalet and dug out my special edition MC Hammer dancing trousers. But by the time I got back the dance hall was as empty as a church on a Saturday night. I skulked back to my chalet and fell into bed. But not before I spent an hour or so trying to take my MC Hammer trousers off over my head. In Scottish culture, this is a sure sign of a great night out.

Bang Goes Bonfire Night

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Nov 052010

Bonfire Night is upon us and as we watch the traditional burning of effigies and the sometimes surprising, sometimes disapointing firework displays, the thoughts of some spectators begin to wander ……

** ‘If Moir Lockhead wis a firework, he’d be the only firework allowed in the display, wid cost far mair than similar fireworks in Edinburgh, wid bide for ages in the Coapy milk bottle while you wait for movement and when he eventually took off, it wid be grudgingly, wi a splutter and a hotter but still leaving six sparklers chasing efter him in vain.’ – David Innes

** ‘If Aberdeen F.C was a firework, it would be one of those you light, get all excited about, tell all yer mates “watch this, it’s gonna be beautiful” You wait and wait, it doesn’t go off, not sure if you should let it be of go over to it and light it again……you’re warned “nah leave it – it’ll go aff” ……you wait, then “f*ck it I’ll go over” and it blows up in yer face’. – Slimfella, Aberdeen-Mad.

** ‘If Aberdeen City Cooncil was a firework it would be a dodgy katherine wheel which when lit, would twirl around and around in ever decreasing circles creating lots of heat, sparks and noise, expending fuel and energy at an alarming rate but never actually going anywhere’. – Fred Wilkinson

** ‘If Kevin Stewart wis a neep lantern you’d struggle to see the facial outline due to there being nae licht inside the f*ckin heid.’ – David Innes

** ‘If The CitySquare/Gardens was a firework it would come in a plain pale grey box ( artwork purchased separately ) around a hundred times the size of the firework itself, cost about 100 times more than the ‘money back on next purchase’ voucher redeemable only when your home and car have been legally bound as security until your cheque clears.
When taken out of the box, you would find that the quaint little oil platform shaped device comes with a badly written manual in which you would somehow suss that the firework does not work unless it is connected to a mains gas supply. However, on the back page there is a telephone number for an engineer who can come round anytime, dig up your garden and install the pipe and connection required.

This will cost you, but on the upside, they will accept your ‘money back on next purchase’ voucher towards the cost of the work ( which would of course include arranging planning permission for the installation).
When lit, sometime ( around 2016 by the time all the paperwork is complete ) it would throw out a brief burst of sparks and swirling flares, and then produce a large limp flickering flame.
As you wait to see what else it does next, you find the small print in the manual which informs you that there is no way of turning it off and that your transaction validated an agreement to purchase your uninterruptable gas supply from an un-named supplier at an undisclosed price for an unnegotiable 25 year term.

It might seem like you got a bad deal, but the solicitor, the gas company, the planning dept and the engineer all agree it was a pleasure to do business with you’. – Fred Wilkinson

** ‘If ACSEF wis a squaad o guisers, they’d ask you if you wanted to hear a song and when you refused they’d sing it onywye saying that they didna recognise the insignificant numbers o respondents who said ‘no”. – David Innes

** ‘If Aberdeen F.C. was a firework, it would be one of those indoor fireworks that turn into a giant, endless sh*te. ( see below)’ – Kelt, Aberdeen-Mad

Old Susannah’s Dictionary – No.11

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Nov 052010

This week Old Susannah looks at the important work of Aberdeen City, Shire and ASCEF. But first she would like to note the international recognition given to the Shetland Islands as a world-class destination.

The Shetlands won a spot on the world’s top ten places according to The Lonely Planet guide. I don’t see it myself – aside from unique landscapes, diverse wildlife, archaeology, northern lights and an ancient heritage, there’s not much to these isles – not even a shopping mall. Think how much better it could be there if they’d only build a concrete public square and a few hundred holiday homes. Perhaps a delegation from ASCEF could help. And here’s what ASCEF has done for us lately:

Regional Identity

Before ASCEF came along, no one in the world knew where Aberdeen or indeed the North East of Scotland was. There was no Regional Identity (except for a Scottish history stretching to prehistory, discoveries and inventions known the world over, and both architecture and wild landscape immortalised by artists and writers). Well, we have a Regional Identity now. This identity apparently means that finally businesses in the area can compete in the world. You can almost feel the motivation. I can hear you asking now, what good is a Regional Identity without a logo, strapline and philosophy? Quite.

Aberdeen City and Shire – The logo

For reasons of copyright (and aesthetics), I am not reproducing the beautiful logo here – but I do encourage you to seek it out on the Aberdeen City Council website. Words cannot do it justice, but I shall do my best. First there is the shape – it echoes the Grampian coastline (if the coastline were a boomerang). Then there is groundbreaking lettering rendered in a bold, confident yet plain font which announces: “ABERDEEN CITY AND SHIRE” in full capital letters to emphasise how important we are. You can almost sense the improving economic investment into the area this lettering alone will bring.

These words make you instantly feel optimistic, and ready to face life head on

There are squiggly lines – sorry waves which not only let people know we are on a coastline ( Did you know that?) but also demonstrate how connected we are (of course anyone with an artistic streak will immediately get it).

There didn’t seem to be any graphic reference to the beautiful sewerage plant on said coastline, which was no doubt an artistic decision reached after weeks of deliberation. There is a cityscape just like ‘Sex in the City’ had.

There is also reference to trees in this masterpiece, but no doubt they can be airbrushed out once we’ve got rid of Union Terrace Gardens. The blue and green colour scheme apparently reflects our natural environment (maybe they ran out of grey paint?). Strangely neither the Council nor ASCEF seem to respond to my freedom of information requests with any regularity, but if any of you would like to ask how much of our money went into the logo, strategy, strapline and the Identity Team, please let me know what you can find out. But wait – it gets better…

Natural Pioneers

No, our governors and business leaders are not ‘Natural Pioneers’ because they are determined to tame any remaining wilderness . This pioneering spirit is the state of mind we are all in according to those who designed our new identity. Old Susannah admits to being a bit confused by the literature describing this value because it explains that our culture and history show we naturally have a can do attitude .

This seems a wee bit at odds with their previous claim that we were unknown to the outside world. I am not sure which is true, but I will look through the ‘toolkit’ which the ‘Regional Identity Team’ has created to see if I can get to the bottom of it. Should any reader be able to explain this to me, please get in touch.

A Brighter Outlook

A Brighter Outlook is what we have in Aberdeen, as the ‘strapline’ tells us. These words make you instantly feel optimistic, and ready to face life head on. The outside world will of course totally believe things are great here because of the strapline and the logo. A few squiggles, a cityscape, and the immortal words ‘A Brighter Outlook’ will have investors queuing up to get their money placed here. We will have more Donald Trumps. Thank you ASCEF, and thank you Regional Identity Team.

I suggest you write to your elected representative to express how happy you are that a team has been established and money spent to put Aberdeen’s future in this wonderful light. Or take direct action and contact the Regional Identity Team directly at St Nicholas House. Let’s ensure they keep up the good work and that they won’t suffer in the budget cuts. Best we get rid of the income that charities used to rely on from the Golden Square parking area than we cut a cent from our Regional Identity team (I wonder how many people it took to do all of this fantastic work?).

Only one thing is missing: we need a photo of a person who embodies all of the things our City and Shire stand for. Please send your nominations.

Next week: Budget special: creative accounting, ringfencing, consultation updates

Old Susannah’s Dictionary No.10 – Halloween Special

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Oct 292010

Voice’s Old Susannah presents a Halloween Special Dictionary supplement and gets to grips with a few tricky, spine chilling terms.

There is no denying the creepy, sinister atmosphere at this time of year in Northeast Scotland– there are mindless zombies roaming free, creating new budgets designed to kill off any remaining spirit in Town and Shire. They are slashing budgets and services, and seem unstoppable. Be afraid – be very afraid.

Frankenstein Monster

Imagine a horrible creature artificially created from parts of City and Shire Councils as well as a few businessmen, artificially stitched together with failed civil servants and the like. Such a monster is ASCEF.

ASCEF was so created and brought to life with injections of taxpayer cash . Now it runs wild throughout the land, unchecked by government or citizen, threatening to destroy the city, or at least cover all living things in concrete.

It is answerable to no one, even the egotistical madmen who created it. The monster will inevitably be destroyed by the angry peasants who see it for the horror it is.

Witch

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” the good witch of the north asked Dorothy. No need to ask what kind of witches we are dealing with in Aberdeen City. A bad witch can be identified by her crone-like appearance and the smell of brew (or special brew) surrounding her.

Bad witches go out of their way to harm their neighbours any way they can, such as allowing lands and burns to be foully polluted, zapping services, magically turning budget surpluses into massive deficits, and closing schools.

They fly about on chauffeur-driven, taxpayer-funded broomsticks all over the world for unholy meetings called Sabbaths or conferences. When confronted, the witch will deny wrongdoing, and insist they will keep doing the job they were elected to do. Witches are often found giving orders to their Familiars.

Familiars

A witch’s Familiar is an animal – such as a lapdog, lizard, reptile, toad, snake or rat — which the witch speaks to as it if were actually able to think itself.

These Familiars are often given names like Lucifer, Beelzebub or Kevin, and are the lackeys which carry out the witch’s evil deeds unquestioningly. These servants of evil are often grotesque in appearance as well as deed, as are the witches they serve.

The Devil

In legends across the world, the Devil or a mysterious stranger appears out of nowhere, making extravagant promises. The Devil might, for instance, promise economic prosperity and millions of pounds – an offer that sounds too good to be true.

The unsuspecting might for instance take the fortune on offer, and in exchange think they are getting a wonderful future – unaware of the strings attached to such a deal. What they are likely to get is a bill for millions more than they received in the first place, and usually a terrible price is extracted – like the permanent loss of beautiful lands. Only a fool would sell their soul (or garden) to the devil.

Trick or Treat

In the old days, children would visit their neighbours at Halloween and cry ‘trick or treat!’ hoping for a sweetie or an apple. They would be lucky to get anything as generous as that from their neighbours in St Nicholas House, who seem to have a wide range of tricks in store.

Magical Disappearances

Fox batterer Derek Forbes had been the subject of media attention recently when he was quoted as admitting hitting a tame fox with his golf club. However, when Forbes appeared in Court this week – Presto! He said he never hit the fox.

Was it an invisible club that injured the fox? Was it the work of a ghostly apparition? Who knows – but Forbes now says it wasn’t him. I guess he was too traumatised when the press first said he did club the fox to ask for the story to be corrected at the time.

The admission of guilt may have disappeared – but the story will not do so. Let’s wish Mr Forbes all the luck he deserves in his next court appearance.

Next week – Budget special.

Faa Elected Yon ACSEF?

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Oct 292010

By Bob Smith.

Faa elected yon ACSEF?
Iss question is afen asked
Faa elected yon ACSEF?
It’s time oor brains wis tasked

Ti be on the board o ACSEF
Ye maan be fairly weel aff
Ye’ll nae get roon their table
Jist bein’ an ordinary nyaff

Faa elected yon ACSEF?
They tell us aa fit’s fit
We’re nae allowed ti question
Their spik, their drivel, their shit

Faa elected yon ACSEF?
Tom Smith is the main slugger
Faa elected yon ACSEF?
The answer is–nae bugger

They o’ coorse elected themselves
Oor economy ti gie a hike
Seems ti me they’re haein a spree
Deein’ fit they bliddy weel like

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010

Nuclear Submarine Insurance Claim Shock

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Oct 292010

By Dave Watt.

The Royal Navy’s newest and largest attack submarine HMS Astute has run aground off Skye, the Ministry of Defence (MoD) has confirmed.

Despite a Ministry of Defence assurance that the crew were ‘highly trained to deal with extreme situations’ (but obviously not any situations that involve steering or map reading) the real shock came when it was announced that owing to the defence cuts HMS Astute was only insured for Third Party, Fire and Theft

This shock was exacerbated when the nuclear submarine was towed round the coast to Joe’s Shipyard in Torry for repairs. The shipyard owner, having made the traditional sucking in of breath with the equally traditional accompanying statement “Hemen, ‘is’ll f****in’ cost ye. Fit f****in’ cowboy stuck ‘is plates in?” then pointed out that the submarine had apparently been in a crash previously and was in fact the halves of two old submarines welded together.

Old Susannah’s Dictionary No. 9

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Oct 222010

Old Susannah gets to grips with more tricky terms.

Old Susannah has been having a great time at the newly-opened Brewdog pub, across from Marischal College. Great selection of beers from this creative Aberdeenshire brewery and from other parts of the globe, as well as great food await you. They also happened to have my favourite ever cheese last time I was there.

I got to try a small glass of the Sink The Bismarck extra extra strong beer – which had been vilified in the press on the basis that people would be downing bottles of it just because it was so strong.

Some people wanted it banned and said it was nearly as bad for the world as Buckfast.

I tried it, I liked it, and I can say that no sensible person is any more likely to down massive quantities of it than they would be to drink 10 bottles of a strong liqueur: it is for gentle sipping only in small doses. Only drawback to this pub whatsoever is its location – expect a few unsavoury characters going in once the City Council mandarins move into Marischal College.

Profit-sharing
What did Aberdeen City Council expect six years ago when it sold Stewart Milne Group 11 acres of land in Westhills for £365,000 (wouldn’t you like a deal like that?)? They had expected to get a share of future profits if Milne sold or leased the land. They call this Profit-Sharing. Selling the land at market value to the highest bidder might have seemed like a good idea as would renting it, but the experts knew better; I am surprised those responsible aren’t coming forward to claim the praise they deserve. Someone in the Council cooked up this great deal, and we parted with land worth considerably more than the selling price, as the Court found this week, and awaited a share of future sale profits.

If you are still with me, Stewart Milne Group then sold the land – to another Milne company.

The City Council asked for its profit share, but alas, despite the great acumen of Milne, the land was sold at a lowish value and the sale from one branch of the Milne empire to another cost about £500K to arrange. Poor them! Therefore there were no profits to share at all, and fair enough. Perhaps the Council should have given Milne money to cover his losses on the deal.

You would think The Council would show a bit more understanding of the Milne shareholders’ needs, but they have actually taken the issue to Court to try and get a measly £1.7 million. You’d almost think we need the money the way ACC are pursuing this humble public servant, who thinks nothing of selflessly giving his time to sit on the board of ASCEF with no thought of personal gain or reward. It is a wonder Mr Milne can continue to do his best for Aberdeen’s citizens by trying to fill in their garden and build a shiny new stadium on greenbelt when he’s being so cruelly pursued. But the Council went ahead (spending taxpayers money all the while) to get the courts to agree Milne owes ACC the money.

After the judgment, the City Council had no comment. Doubtless they are busy preparing a statement saying why this was a good deal, how the price was determined, what other people were allowed to bid for the land, and what other land we’ve sold SMG. I can’t wait to read it.

Milne spokespeople however did comment to say not that they are sorry and will immediately give us £1.7 million pounds, but that they will be looking at their options. If however the Council has to make a further appeal, then taxpayers money will probably be used. How much money it will cost to get £1.7 million when we could have sold the land for more money isn’t important. This might be a good time to remind readers that ASCEF is meant to;

“… ensure a collaborative approach to growing the economy and enhancing quality of life”.

Cynics (if any out there) might wonder whether this is appropriate action for a member of ASCEF to be taking. But do console yourselves – there is now a new office complex on the Westhill land where sources tell me the architecture is beautiful, the HVAC works perfectly, and there are absolutely no leaks in the building’s fabric. We can only hope that more land will be made available for construction soon, and that ACC will leave this generous-spirited public servant alone.

Rebranding

If your product is losing popularity or if people are not on your side, then it’s time for some rebranding. Get yourself a consultant, spend some money, and you will be back on track before you know it. And that is what ASCEF have done with our tax money: It gives me great pleasure to announce that per the ASCEF website, “The project to elevate Union Terrace Gardens has been renamed the City Garden Project. Now that they put it that way, it seems like a much better idea. Not that we will ever know how much this exercise cost, but clearly you will agree it was worth every penny.

Last word (I hope) on animal cruelty
The beautiful Arabian mare featured in the news last week, with a massive chunk bitten out of its muzzle, has had to be destroyed following the attack by an out-of-control dog. Some person or persons have hung five kittens in Westhill outside of shops. Then we have the seagull shooter and the fox clubber. What is going on here?

I never intended this little column to become an animal cruelty feature, but the current crop of horror stories in Aberdeenshire can’t go without comment.

First, if you must own a dog which has been bred to be a powerful, unstoppable fighter, then definitely keep it on a leash and use a muzzle if you need to. The UK is filled with stories – eg the little girl in Dundee knocked off of her bicycle and mauled by two dogs – and the owners always say the same thing:

‘”It was always a nice dog, never any trouble, until it suddenly snapped for no reason”.

They usually are saying this to a child that’s been scarred for life (or to a coffin).

There is a message in these stories – but there are some dog owners out there who aren’t getting it. It was a beautiful, gentle horse that suffered horribly this time. I can’t imagine how the owner feels – but they were lucky they themselves weren’t seriously hurt. If things keep up, it won’t be long before it’s a child.

Secondly as to the small element of people who want to train their dogs to fight and to attack other animals, or people who deliberately inflict cruelty on helpless, innocent animals – someone please make that anonymous call to stop them. If you can stop a tragedy in the future, then you won’t be able to live with yourself if you do nothing now.

Finally, whoever killed the kittens needs to be identified. It is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ their actions are going to escalate. Clearly they have been abused themselves, and if they’re not stopped more will suffer. Know something? Suspect something? Tell someone.

Look Out for Millie!

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Oct 222010

With thanks to Grace Banks and Jenny Watson.

The launch of new book by Sheena Blackhall will serve as a warning to anyone thinking of taking a packed lunch beyond their own front door!

Millie is the tale of a beloved Dalmation dog who loves to steal sandwiches! She travels round the North East of Scotland stealing goodies from unsuspecting fishermen, golfers and posties.

Illustrated by Bob Dewar and edited by Bill Burnett, the book is written in Doric, with an English translation, and is published by the Reading Bus. (www.readingbus.co.uk)

The Reading Bus is a city-based service which delivers a highly innovative, motivating and successful literacy programme in the St Machar, Northfield and Torry Communities. This ground breaking project has succeeded in promoting reading as a lifelong pleasure, raising attainment and achievement of children at risk of early failure and involving and empowering parents in their children’s learning.

The multi-coloured Reading Bus visits schools and community locations and welcomes onboard youngsters and families for a wide literacy programme including storytelling, author visits, read together sessions, poetry and puppet work. The project also includes a film animation and radio programme as well as having its own in-house publishing company called ‘Bus Stop Press’.

Millie will be launched on Thursday 4th November 2010 and will be available in all good bookshops near you, at the bargain price of £5.99.

A Millie website, full of resources to complement the book will soon be launched. There will also be a Millie Tour onboard the Reading Bus with Sheena Blackhall which will take place in Aberdeenshire in November and December and Aberdeen City in January and February.

Watch out for Millie appearing near you!

Room For One More On Top? Yes, But Is It Safe?

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Oct 222010

By George Anderson.

Have we gone a tad too far with Health and Safety? The question came to me last week following an upsetting visit to my local DIY store. I asked the store joiner to saw in half a plank of wood I had just bought to make a couple of shelves. He turned me down flat.

‘Sorry mate,’ he said, ‘more than me job’s worth to wield a saw in ‘ere. It’s the sawdust, it’s unsafe.’

It turns out that inhaling sawdust isn’t highly recommended if, in future, you want to get your oxygen supply from Mother Nature rather than a pressurised cylinder. I accept this.

But if joiners are to be prevented from using the tools of their trade on safety grounds, what else might we look forward to? Our troops issued with rubber bayonets? No sex without a safety harness? Will restaurants insist on cardboard forks and knives? Will it soon be illegal to walk backwards unless your mother is holding your hand?

But before we get carried away with just how bonkers Health and Safety may appear today, we would be wise to remember how non-existent it was in the past. By way of illustration we need look no further than the double decker bus of the 1960’s.

Bus depot supremo’s, in an early nod to the rights of non-smokers, prohibited the use of coffin nails on the lower deck of these buses. However, as if by way of compensating for this wanton act of environmental friendliness, smoking upstairs was in effect, compulsory. On a single journey from terminus to terminus, the collective puffing of nicotine fiends raised carbon monoxide on the upper deck of the last bus to Scatterburn to levels that would have triggered the evacuation of an anthracite mine. Bronchitis sufferers were safer outside in the smog.

With regard to Safety, the case was a bit more one sided. These buses had an open platform at the rear — the only access and egress point for passengers.

Of course, knowing exactly when to disembark was a bit of a black art and not everyone got it right

Because the platform was open, a single stainless steel pole, placed at the edge of the platform for the purposes of hanging on for grim death, was the only thing standing between the fare paying passenger and oblivion. When a bus was doing sixty miles an hour it was like standing on the edge of a cliff in a gale.

Nowadays, party-pooping do-gooders have ensured that you may disembark from a bus only after it has stopped moving. In the swinging sixties, however, you could disembark at any time you wanted, no matter how fast the bus was travelling. The older generation were quite happy to wait until the bus stopped, but no whipper-snapper with a half decent Beatles haircut and a second-hand pair of winkle-pickers would have been caught dead waiting until a bus came to a halt before getting off. A mathematical relationship was in play here – the faster a bus was travelling when you stepped off the rear platform, the more irresistible you were to the opposite sex.

Of course, knowing exactly when to disembark was a bit of a black art and not everyone got it right. I personally witnessed Derek Sangster step off the number 25 to Tillydrone (via Gordon’s Mills Road) while the bus was travelling at forty-five miles per hour. Those in possession of an ‘O’ grade in Physics will have calculated that if the bus was travelling at forty-five miles an hour, then so was Derek. Now, only Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble can whirl their legs at that speed. Anyone else is destined to end up face down on the tarmac using their chin as a brake.

Street credibility always comes at a price. Certainly, Derek managed to avoid a catastrophe by windmilling his arms fast enough to dislocate both shoulders, but he failed to prevent a disaster, unable as he was to remain upright long enough to avoid plunging headlong through the Cooperative Society’s main display window. Few of us nowadays would be willing to catapult ourselves through a plate-glass window for the off-chance of a snog. But the past is another country; they do things differently there.

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