Smallville: I Stand By Custer
Peter Farrell, who will be writing a regular column about books, jazz, life, and all that sort of thing, tells us of the time when a customs officer disapproved of James Thurber's deliciously humorous opus "Is sex necessary?''
My dual nationality was born out of a fear of disappointment. Throughout my life wary of what lay round the next corner I chose High Street rather than Main, Division or Route 66 and, despite my reward being a home in the Heart of Norfolk rather than say Boise Idaho, spiritually I am drawn to Anywhere, USA.
This rather second hand view of American life has it’s roots in the early 50’s when as a group of teenagers, my friends and I took to “hanging out” in a cellar provided by Mr Arnold under his corner shop. Tea and coffee were provided and the arrival of a Jukebox gave “Arnie’s joint” the status of the soda counter we had so often seen in “B” films or “movies.”
On hearing Stan Kenton’s “Artistry in Rhythm“ for the first time the verdict of my girlfriend at that time was “Gosh, wizard,'' To which I casually opined “Solid, Jackson”. I booked my passage and never looked back.
Much later, married and en route to a new post abroad, my wife and I had packed those items deemed by the authorities to be locally unobtainable.
“Better to be safe than sorry, there might be a shortage of sliced bread,cufflinks.custardpowder,pencils,cornplasters,cornflakes........”
My cautious instincts contrasted with my wife’s attitude of “When in Rome...” before heading for the Boutiques with the Visacard signs, or whatever they used then.
I cannot recall exactly what we took but there were enough paperbacks to get me through the next three years. Mainly James Thurber, Sid Perelman and Damon Runyon with Nelson Algren added for dark relief.
Mindful of local sensitivities concerning marriage and birth control I had discarded my copy of “Lady Chatterley‘s Lover”. This unexpurgated version of D H Lawrence’s book had caused enough of a sensation in the Law Courts already.
Unfortunately on arrival the only luggage not on the carousel was mine. I found that my copy of James Thurber‘s “Is Sex necessary?” had drawn the attention of Customs.
“Comic, you know, ha ha ha.'' But my feeble imitation of Charlie Chaplin was not convincing and I meekly surrendered my Thurber. Later I comforted myself with the thought that even the great man himself would have had some explaining to do.
Last week I accompanied my wife to the local market square. Her shopping routine took in the delicatessen, department store, butchers, jewellers, bakers and florists, and was timed to match my weekly visit to the Public Library. Later we met for coffee as planned in the local restaurant.
We were discussing the merits of my literary choice of “Money and how not to spend it, fully Illustrated“, when our order, espressos Danish and a custard, was served accompanied by “Enjoy” from the waitress - a particularly grating expression and catching on fast over here.
In a flash I was in the massed ranks at the Little Big Horn as General Custer shouted to his troops “Have a nice day.”
The waitress concurred with a smile and I concluded that although some things don’t travel, they can certainly be turned to advantage.
