The Good, the Bad and
the Ugly
Bloody Mary, giant
couscous and a queue
Hello again dear
reader. It may (or may not) have come to your notice that I have
taken something of a summer break from the high pressure environment
of blogging. I make no apologies as it has been a packed couple of
months of events. Some regal, some sporting and some local.
Back in June we kicked
off with the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. I'm
not a hardened royalist but I do have quite a bit of respect for the
institution, this despite being once charged with showing disrespect
to the Royal Family (c. Silver Jubilee). This came about from an
unfortunate exchange between the first lieutenant's wife, who was
taking the part of Her Majesty in a rehearsal for a forthcoming royal visit,
and one of my darker skinned colleagues. It was based around his
grandfather serving with the East African Rifles and having black
privates – it's an old joke (details on request) but it always made me
laugh.
Things got off to a
good sporting start shortly after the jubilee with Euro 2012. I liked
the look of the England team and making it to the semifinals wasn't a bad
result. Who knows if we could just kick out the curse of the penalty
shoot-out (no pun intended)... As for London 2012 Olympics and
Paralympics what more can be said, brilliant in every way, even I was
inspired. Not so inspired as to go out and actually do something sporting. As a guy that thinks a good workout is cleaning his
teeth without switching on his electric toothbrush inspiration of
that sort would need to be narcotic-ally induced.
All this and then the
Preston Guild! A once every twenty year celebration of the town (now
city) having been granted a Guild Merchant by Henry II back in 1179. The
guild merchant was a kind of monopoly run by local traders, craftsmen
and of course merchants. The modern day celebrations come from the
act of new members swearing publicly their allegiance to the Mayor
and the Guild as apposed to modern Prestonions just swearing in public. Today it comprises of lots of events not least of
which are several processions. This involves the bystander standing
on the pavement waving at a constant stream of articulated lorries
carrying cargoes of strangely clad, over enthusiastic adults and under
enthusiastic children as they weave their way around the town (city).
This traditionally also involves those that can, making their excuses and sneaking away to the nearest pub for a 'cheeky beer'. Having been
indoctrinated into this tradition by a friend and her father I
quickly learnt of the cooling effects of a beer and the warming
effects of a double, single malt.
But it hasn't all been
partying. Over the summer months I've perfected the GOOD, discovered
the BAD and witnessed the UGLY...
