(This was written ages ago, but not posted)
My brain has not come out of hibernation from the Xmas period, despite many temptations. This was demonstrated last Thursday when we had a power cut at work. All the drinks machines were off and I wanted a cup of tea, damn. "Hang on though", I had a revelation, "I know someone that's got a kettle!".
Yes it has been a bit quiet on the blog. I have been secretly plotting the overthrow of the UK's theocracy, building my arsenal, honing my skills, amassing and galvanising my comrades in arms etc etc. More news on this as it comes.
"Taaa-aake a Break. It's fun to stay at the Taaa-aake a Bray-ey-ake". It goes something like that anyway. You haven't seen it? OK, so let me paint the luridly incongruous picture for you. The advertising simpletons charged with promoting the TV guide-cum-gossip mag, Take-a-Break, have come up with a TV ad featuring the Village People (lookalikes) dancing like gaydons in a school canteen to a molested cover version of YMCA. "Taaa-aake a Break. It's fun to bum at the Taaa-aake a Bray-ey-ake".
The concept doesn't make sense really, but luckily for the Village People (lookalikes) reality has been put on pause for 45 seconds and the dinner ladies are up for a bit of synchronised homosexual dancing disrupting their busiest time of the day. And the kids don't seem to mind either, which is even stranger. These kids are not at all typical of your usual secondary school chav-hoodies, text-bullying each other and throwing flick knives at anyone in authority. No, completely the opposite in fact, they love the camp Red Indian (political correctness has no authority here) and the sinister, sunglassed and suntanned construction worker, and even the police officer! (now we really are in the land of make believe). A mere 10 seconds into their song and dance routine and the kids are up there with the old biddies thrusting away before you can say Section 28.
It's a lazy kind of lowest common denominator attempt to appeal to the gossip rag's demographic and it won't mean anything to most of the (normal) UK population. Dinner lady types, however, like hunky men, even if they're gay apparently, so it goes down a storm and as a result they've found no better gay disco icon endorsed TV guide with which to pass the time. Dinner hags are happy, kids are happy, Village People are happy (well, they're gay, so by definition...), Take a Break execs are happy. Possibly. So, everyone's a winner babe. Oh no, that was the other lot wasn't it?
The Oxford Secularists meet at the Old Tom this Thursday by the way. You haven't heard of them? Oh, well, they're all over the net don't you know.
Actually I forgot. Toby had a mad co-incidence the other day. After supper he was allowed a Tunnock's Tea Cake (oh yes, the king of tea cakes. Also called a Mace Windu in our house after Samuel Jackson's character in the Star Wars films)
After he'd finished it he went into the sitting room and about 1 minute later returned with my Nice Cup Of Tea And A Sit Down book (check out their purple Digestive photo), opened at the page talking about the Tunnock's Tea Cake. "Look what I found" he said. Now this was quite odd as he has never been shown the book before. It does have a very small picture of a jammy dodger, a round shortcake and a smiley face on the spine, but I don't know why he'd pick that book from the book case and flick through it to find the tea cake section. Anyway, it's almost certainly the work of some baked goods deity and so I should definitely follow the rules and regulations of the NCOTAASD book without question and murder anyone that disagrees with anything in it. Right? [Note to the humourless religious types: that is called sarcasm.]
Toby also saw a TV advert for Disneyland Paris that had the voiceover tagline of, "Where dreams come true". "I definitely don't want to go there!" he piped up. "I had a dream last night where a monster was trying to kill me and if I go there it will come true!". I think he was confusing the ad with the report that Tigger had tried to punch a kid at one of the Disneylands.
Also, last year at a friend's birthday party, the kids were tying wishes to balloons and letting them go in the back garden. Toby wrote his in secret (with Mum) and fifteen minutes later was in floods of tears. His wish to become a green Power Ranger hadn't come true. For days afterwards he kept saying, "I still haven't turned into a green Power Ranger dad".
I know it's nice to go, "Aaaah, sweet", but for him at the age of 4 and a half these type of things are quite traumatic and I'd prefer to just be honest with him. Better to have a shower of honest tears and clear the air than to foment a brooding thunderstorm of deceptional payback in later life eh? What?!