Prohibition Jazz

An unusual weekend.

The ongoing soap opera that is my own, and other people's lives continued. Spent the bulk of the weekend with LBF, work ahving intervened in our efforts to atend the weekend Lemon Wedding

First we went to see The Original Rabbit's Foot Spasm Band, who play prohibition jazz. This is the haunt of JazzMan, who seems unable to do right by Schlingo. Of course, that's my definition of right, and trying to throw two people together because YOU think it'll work is potentially fraught.

It is a shame tho', because Schlingo is aces, and JazzMan seems like a nice fella, barring this one thing.

Anyway, that's their business, not ours.

As for the jazz, they're excellent, and much grooving was done, wheels greased with joyous lager, and the stench of gin and sympathy.

I was somewhat surprised by the youth of the crowd, but I suppose the hepcats that shook their bad things to jazz in the 20s and 30s were young 'uns, so there's no reason why they shouldn't be this time around.

Anyway, I commend them to you.

High Days And Holidays

Spent the weekend feeling a bit sorry for myself, while trying to have fun with LBF. Sick role avoidance. She had schoolwork to do - for those of you that think teachers have it easy, don't forget the marking. Oh, the humanity.

Anyway, worksheets planned, books checked, we deployed to the supermarket where I fulfilled my stereotype by grumbling and generally acting like a 2 year old. LBF was very tolerant, as usual.

We then whiled away a few happy hours watching a programme called 'Watch Me Showing Off', or 'If I Bend Over You Can See What I Had For Breakfast', or something. There was dancing in it, anyway, but I lost the thread when one of the first dancers elected to wear a pair of hotpants so small they barely deserved the name.

Then Schlingo appeared, just in time for a new horror of a dating programme on ITV, unleashing a volley of commentary so sharply honest regarding the contestants, I was in danger of soiling myself laughing.

And then to pub. Beer was drunk, and I didn't vomit, which you'd normally think ought not to count as an achievement, but the Quad-Cocktail I'm on makes it a bit more challenging. I briefly tried my hand at limbo, but aren't as good at it as I remember. Go figure.

Sadly, at the end of the evening, there was no chicken. Although considering the relationship I have with my gut at the mo', this may have been for the best.

The next day was LBF's Poppa's birthday. A grand spread, much laughter. Good time had by all. LBF was moderately put out, when I suggested she likes the art of conversation. The spark for this perhaps unwise observation was her unleashing a comment, a propos of nothing, about her mum vomiting on her dad. She took slightly against me when I passed comment, remarking that we spent many comfortable silences together.

'Only', quipped I, 'when you're asleep'

While this was not massively popular on the LBF side of the car, my point was slightly proven when, on the return journey, she tried for comfortable silence, and fell asleep.

She may just be perfect.

Lazy Sunday Afternoons

So, after agreeing to work Saturday, then quietly grumbling about it under my breath, like a passive aggressive chimp, I tripped up to La Maison Belle Fille. I wasn't much use Saturday evening, barely able to stay awake for dinner, and frankly I'm not sure I was much better Sunday, but at least it was more fun.

We schlepped down to a local pub for lunchtime, to sample their sandwiches, which LBF had described as 'amazing', a term she is fond of. They weren't bad after all, but I'm not sure they were amazing. Still, one man's meat, and all that...

We picked up Schlingo on the way. She is always good company, being as prone as I am to outbursts of rage, and not afraid to speak her mind, which I respect greatly. Which made it all the more amusing when a phone call from her boss spooked her into accidentally answering the phone, then hiding it in her bag.

Ensconced in the pub, we turned our attention to the serious matter of the day: a game of Scrabble. The girls are Scrabble geniuses (genii?) so I tried to put them off by flooding the pub with smoke from the wood burning stove; on reflection this was always doomed to failure, and didn't endear me to the rest of the pub's denizens.

We were also joined by JazzMan, whom I like very much, tho' his and Schlingo's relationship is more complex than it should be, which is a shame.

Predictably, Scrabble was won by Schlingo, with LBF in close second, and Jazz and I bringing up the rear. Schlingo was gracious in victory, a fact I forgot when getting a question right during a game of Trivial Pursuit. It turns out no-one else like my 'victory dance'

Smug dance notwithstanding, a good time seemed to be had by all, although I probably drank a bit too much Guinness.

Ah, well; here's to more Sundays by the fire, with me struggling to make the word 'Cat'.

Entry Redacted

With satisfying timing, LBF contacted me today to express some concerns about the details included in the episode in which Schlingo made her debut...

I should therefore make it perfectly clear that I know teachers, of all varieties are highly skilled, overworked, underpaid pillars of society. Their work is much more than colouring in shapes.


Sometimes they stick the shapes on bits of card afterward.

Introducing....

Women are... interesting... make of this what you will.

When I first wrote about LBF here, she phoned me up to complain; not unreasonable, you might think, since I hadn't let her know she was going to feature, and some folks don't want their comings and goings splashed on the 'net. However, this is, after all, the ramblings of a grumpy old man, not The New York Times, and mostly anonymous(-ish), so one might argue few people would either see it or recognise her.

So, her entry was removed.

It seems that the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about, and LBF now regularly mentions, just in passing that her character has been disappointingly quiet recently.

Now it seems I have to expand her character and provide more back story.

LBF need more companions to keep her company when she's not having adventures with me.

And so I have the pleasure of introducing Schlingo, LBF's comrade in arms. She, too, is a teacher, and lives downstairs from LBF. She teaches younger kids than LBF, and I suspect they both think their job is a little bit harder than the other's.

I think its all basically colouring in shapes.

(This may not be the kind of storyline Schlingo was hoping for...)

Anyway, in case you were thinking Schlingo is a kind of two dimensional charactwer I've invented, to give her depth, it's worth noting she's dating JazzMan, who comes from the 1930s; or 1950s, depending on who you ask. She also once described yet another of LBF's friends as looking like 'an angry blue smartie', and suggested that Susan Boyle looked like a 'haunted tree', proving at a stroke that she has a far greater gift for language and imagery than I could ever hope to.

Anyway, she wanted in to this merry soap opera, so here she is.

Welcome aboard, Schlingo.