Friday, October 27, 2006
Something for the weekend
October 28th.
Its actually late Friday night so to me its still the 27th. I simply forgot to weigh myself on the same scales as usual when I was at work on Wednesday and although I did weigh on some different scales there are always minor differences in their accuracy so I cant read much into the fact that the weight was unchanged on the set I used. The feasting of last weekend didn't do too much damage. On the recommendation of the sleeping partner (incidentally, he's gone back to sleep), I foolishly tried the delights of the Skewen Fish Bar which he claimed, as does the owner, that the fish and chips is the best in Wales and possibly the whole of Britain, but I beg to differ. For a plate of fish and chips, Harry Ramsden in Cardiff is the best by a long way, though its more expensive and of course not on my doorstep. I seem to remember the take-away from Harry Ramsdens was very poor and you should eat in the restaurant. Apart from the fish and chips, traditionally greasy with salt and vinegar but wrapped in plain white paper so there were no salacious stories to read from the News of the World of fallen women and Vicars giving private 'classes to female parishioners while I tried to harpoon an elusive chip with a two pronged stick/spatula, I was back to my normal diet of cheese, meat, salami, yogurts, pistachios and icecream. What a long sentence that was.
Do people still use the term 'fallen women'? Do barbers ever ask their customers 'Something for the weekend, sir?' as they brush the hairs off the jacket of a departing customer? My barber has a bit of a stutter so it might sound rather odd from him though usually my hair is cut by one of his female assistants and sometimes he comes along to put the finiching touches to the cut. Actually I think this is a bit insulting to the girls but they may be there more to lure the customers into the shop rather than for their cutting skills. I was mesmerised by the soothing undulating movement of the bosom of the last girl to cut my hair there and was sorry when le patron took over. If he does the whole thing himself , which only takes about three minutes of actual work, his incessant chatter, prolonged by his stutter , lengthens the performance to about twenty minutes. You have to have time on your hands ans stamina to wait your turn in the queue. but I'll have a go in the morning.
I wonder if my barber has ever read 'Haircut' by Ring Lardner? I rarely meet anyone who has ever read his short stories. I suppose he's just too American for most Brits and you have to like , or at least be tolerant of baseball to really enjoy his stories. Not that 'Haircut' is about baseaball; its a monologue from the barber as he cuts the author's hair. Ten pages. Brilliant.
The brief Biography on the cover of the Best Short Stories of Ring Lardner states that he came from Niles, Michigan, which means absolutely nothing to me . It seems to be just something to write to fill in space and is really of no interest or value. I don't know where most writers come from- except their country of course- and don't care unless they're going to write about it. I do know that Bill Bryson came from Des Moines as he started one of his books with the statement 'I come from Des Moines; somebody has to'. I am of course a man of Kent- or am I a Kentish man?
Its actually late Friday night so to me its still the 27th. I simply forgot to weigh myself on the same scales as usual when I was at work on Wednesday and although I did weigh on some different scales there are always minor differences in their accuracy so I cant read much into the fact that the weight was unchanged on the set I used. The feasting of last weekend didn't do too much damage. On the recommendation of the sleeping partner (incidentally, he's gone back to sleep), I foolishly tried the delights of the Skewen Fish Bar which he claimed, as does the owner, that the fish and chips is the best in Wales and possibly the whole of Britain, but I beg to differ. For a plate of fish and chips, Harry Ramsden in Cardiff is the best by a long way, though its more expensive and of course not on my doorstep. I seem to remember the take-away from Harry Ramsdens was very poor and you should eat in the restaurant. Apart from the fish and chips, traditionally greasy with salt and vinegar but wrapped in plain white paper so there were no salacious stories to read from the News of the World of fallen women and Vicars giving private 'classes to female parishioners while I tried to harpoon an elusive chip with a two pronged stick/spatula, I was back to my normal diet of cheese, meat, salami, yogurts, pistachios and icecream. What a long sentence that was.
Do people still use the term 'fallen women'? Do barbers ever ask their customers 'Something for the weekend, sir?' as they brush the hairs off the jacket of a departing customer? My barber has a bit of a stutter so it might sound rather odd from him though usually my hair is cut by one of his female assistants and sometimes he comes along to put the finiching touches to the cut. Actually I think this is a bit insulting to the girls but they may be there more to lure the customers into the shop rather than for their cutting skills. I was mesmerised by the soothing undulating movement of the bosom of the last girl to cut my hair there and was sorry when le patron took over. If he does the whole thing himself , which only takes about three minutes of actual work, his incessant chatter, prolonged by his stutter , lengthens the performance to about twenty minutes. You have to have time on your hands ans stamina to wait your turn in the queue. but I'll have a go in the morning.
I wonder if my barber has ever read 'Haircut' by Ring Lardner? I rarely meet anyone who has ever read his short stories. I suppose he's just too American for most Brits and you have to like , or at least be tolerant of baseball to really enjoy his stories. Not that 'Haircut' is about baseaball; its a monologue from the barber as he cuts the author's hair. Ten pages. Brilliant.
The brief Biography on the cover of the Best Short Stories of Ring Lardner states that he came from Niles, Michigan, which means absolutely nothing to me . It seems to be just something to write to fill in space and is really of no interest or value. I don't know where most writers come from- except their country of course- and don't care unless they're going to write about it. I do know that Bill Bryson came from Des Moines as he started one of his books with the statement 'I come from Des Moines; somebody has to'. I am of course a man of Kent- or am I a Kentish man?
# posted by Bob @ 6:10 pm 
