Friday, 31 May 2019

Prats With Scooters



I was in my car on the way to the office the other morning when I espied a  be-suited chap in his late twenties (or early thirties) whizzing along the crowded pavement opposite on what appeared to be a scooter.

Not a moped you understand but an adult sized ‘child’s push along scooter’ which apparently had been adapted so that it ran on some electric or kinetic motor. This total prat was zooming past everyone else with a look of blissful indifference on his smug face.

‘I am better than all of you,’ it seemed to say ‘I look so cool on this expensive toy that the normal expectations of considerate behaviour on a crowded street do not apply to me’.

Needless to say this display of arrogant hipster rudeness filled me with a seething maelstrom of petty rage. I will admit that part of it was likely my own envy that he was clearly having a lot more fun than me but it was more the smug disregard for other walkers that really raised my blood pressure.

I have a five year old daughter who enjoys zooming along on her scooter. ‘Can I bring my scooter’ she will often ask as we are heading out somewhere. Often my reply is ‘no sweetheart, it will be too busy in town and you might upset people or crash into them’.

My five year old daughter appears to understand the wisdom of this. Although not happy with the situation, she can grasp the concept that it is preferable to curtail personal freedom in order to preserve the delicate balance of politeness and respect that are the bedrock upon which modern society is predicated (this is what she said to me word for word).

This prat zooming along the pavement in flagrant disregard for the safety and comfort of all around him is apparently incapable of grasping the same concept however.

I am not against the use of ludicrously overpriced hipster toys. I am not against using them for your morning commute. But they go incredibly fast and are more or less completely silent. The place for them is either on the road or (failing that) in a cycle lane. Not on the pavement. I understand that you want to use your new toy as much as possible in order to feel better about blowing all that money on what is clearly a child’s plaything. But this is the pavement. It is for walking (or at the most running). If it is a busy morning and everyone is going to school or work then you need to get off of your toy and wait until later when you can use it safely on less crowded streets. Failing that, take it to a park where you can whiz around to your hearts content.

Anyway, I need to find out where I can purchase one of these things so if you have any ideas then please let me know.


Thursday, 2 May 2019

Wood Pervert



Hello,

My name is Ian Gasson & I have a confession to make to you all.

For many years now I have been a wood Pervert.

It started when I used to live on a boat & needed a solid fuel burner for heating.

Pretty soon I found myself hanging around skips on building sites, hoping for just a chance to root through and find some scrap wood to burn when the builders weren’t looking.

When I moved into a house like a normal human being I thought that the condition would lapse. But quicklyI slipped back into bad habits and purchased a burner for my garden room.

Stupidly I told myself that I could handle it & that I would only burn a little bit of purchased wood from time to time.

 

But I was kidding myself and pretty soon the old excitement took hold & I found myself in all sorts of crazy situations as I chased the massive rush of  obtaining ‘free wood’.

Wood perversion is a terrible affliction to bear. I might be driving along one day on my way to a work appointment when, out of the corner of my eye I spot a pile of scrap wood in someone's drive. Instantly my pulse quickens and I start to shake & perspire with excitement and anticipation. I try to ignore it but the niggling gnawing knowledge that there is free wood somewhere; just lying around waiting to be claimed, eventually overwhelms me and I crack.

 

First comes the embarrassing and awkward discussion with the home or skip owner.

'erm excuse me, this might sound weird but I wondered if you would let me take some of your scrap wood there for my burner? I promise to then stop hanging around at the bottom of your drive, drooling and making furtive glances at your lumber'.

Then the frantic excitement as I pull up my car and shovel loads of lovely free lumber into the back as fast as possible so that passers by don’t mistake me for a criminal.

At other times I might be walking in the country, innocently enjoying the wonders of nature, my mind a serene pool of calm contemplation. Then I spot a fallen tree that has been left cut up and my palms begin to itch.

The last time this happened I got home and (without informing my family as to my whereabouts) immediately pulled the car out, drove to Wickes and purchased the biggest axe they could supply. Then; like a nutter, I rushed back to the tree as fast as I was able ( in case another wood pervert beat me to the prize) & proceeded to spend about an hour madly chopping. Unfortunately I had not bargained on how heavy the resulting hardwood would be and so I was faced with the impossibility of transporting my earwig filled treasure back to the car.

In the end; 7.30am found me breaking my back  dragging a massive sack full of lumber down the footpath (to the confusion and alarm of the occasional dog walker or jogger that I passed by).

But even that excitement cannot compete with the blessed joy of getting the liberated wood back home and stacking it in a massive pile in my shed. Mmmm Sooo Goooooood!

Sometimes I let myself into the shed when my wife isn't looking just so that I can look at the pile and inhale the lovely smell created by hornbeam, pine and ash gently drying. Sometimes I will pick up a piece that I have chopped up and admire the grain and texture. I have not yet got to the point of gently whispering comforting platitudes to it but…it’s probably not far off.

The perversion really sets in however, when I am so enamoured of my massive pile that I feel bad about diminishing it. I am then faced with the daily torture of wanting to have a fire in the cold mornings but having to say goodbye to some of my hard obtained lumber thus reducing the height of the pile incrementally.

If you have a similar perversion, perhaps we could meet up & form some manner of support group (Dendoholics anonymous?). We can meet in my garden room in front of....a, in front of a, ...a..a  ROARING FIRE!

Bwaaah Ha Ha Ha Ha.

 

I AM THE WOOD LORD! ALL MUST BOW BEFORE THE AWSOME PILE OF MY MAGNIFICENCE!!

I WILL FIND ALL OF THE WOOD AND GET IT ALL FOR FREE AND PILE IT UP AND LOVE IT FOREVER!

ALL SHALL SEE IT AND DESPAIR!!