Greetings, fellow inmates! Is the lock-down getting to you? Are you still on speaking terms with your loved ones, your spouse? Maybe the phrase ‘this town ain’t big enough for the two of us’ applies.
So said Gary Cooper in ‘High Noon’. We haven’t got to that stage, yet, in our local version of ‘Gunfight at the OK Corral’, but for many of us, we are fast approaching breaking point, the strain beginning to show.
On with the show.
Lonesome Old Town
It must be a ‘lonesome old town’ when the highlight of our social calendar is the eagerly-awaited weekly visit of the municipal refuse collectors. Thursday is our day for the garbage to be taken away. The CO made a special effort, putting on her best dressing gown and slippers; for my sins, I had a shave, put on a tracksuit and sweater.
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Excitement mounted: we placed our black refuse bags outside, and waited for ‘the dustbin men’ to make their appearance. Mugs of coffee in one hand, waving our small ‘stars and stripes’ flags in the other, we waited, and waited, and, well, waited a bit longer.
“It is Thursday, isn’t it?” I asked. You never know these days. Shrugging of the shoulders. We hid our disappointment, stressed-out, feeling quite miserable. No sign of our friends. Add to that, the water supply had ‘gone off’, the electricity supply, including the heating, had ‘gone off’, and so had we.
“That’s it, pack your bags, we’re off!” I decreed, “Grimsby here we come!”
The CO had heard it all before, shrugging her shoulders, not at the no-show garbage collectors, but at Mr Grumpy here.
“Okay, I’ll give it 24 more hours, and then we pack, understand?” More shrugs of the shoulders.
What A Difference A Day Makes
Twenty-four hours later, we heard the familiar sound of a heavy motor lorry, with plenty of whistles and loud voices.
We saw them, our long-lost friends, the refuse collectors and greeted them warmly. I burst into ‘My Old Man’s A Dustman’ and suspect Lonnie Donegan would have been proud.
The CO approved and even the electricity came back on. All was well in the world, and Grimsby was put on the backburner… till next time.
Time To Reflect
Yet again, it was time for reflection. This place can drive you crackers with its quirks and quiddities, exasperations, and insanities. Why do we hang in, stay on? We must be mad, we tell ourselves. The answer is before our very eyes, it’s because this is home.
We would miss all those everyday things, social activities such as Moondeckers, concerts and shows at the Village, Shafts, our favourite restaurants, and more importantly, our friends. Know what? You’re getting to be a habit with me.
Lone Ranger
The other day I met Moondeckers stalwart David Hallé, cleverly disguised as the Lone Ranger, resplendently wearing his Zorro mask, black cape, silver spurs. His ‘hey-ho, silver’ greeting gave him away. David has had to postpone, perhaps indefinitely, his dream yachting holiday to Uruguay and Brazil due to Covid-19.
Obviously disappointing, but David has taken it all in his stride. He was quite philosophical about the ‘big let-down’. ‘What will be, will be’ was David’s response, not just the sailing along the coast of South America, but to how things happen, or do not happen.
As a pukka Hibiscus roller coaster, David is one of those everyday, regular guys who make this place rather special. It’s a lesson for us all. Even Manchester City’s defeat in the FA Cup semi-final is not the end of the world.
See you.
Rob.
Ed’s note: Cheer up, Rob, at least City has been given permission to play in Europe next year. And Arsenal won’t be there to cause any upsets.
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