In Good Company: All Right At The Front
...Newspaper bereavement announcements are always sad, but I saw one recently which read doubly tragic. It concerned an elderly lady who ‘died suddenly after much suffering at her daughter’s residence.’ One can only imagine the trials she underwent under daughter’s eagle eye...
Here's another good-fun column from our Enid Blackburn archive.
‘You are like me – as long as it is all right at the front you’re not bothered about the back.’ This remark was intended to complement my new hairstyle and the bearer and I, believe it or not, are still friends.
Do you ever have difficulty in expressing yourself? Do the words you intend to say often undergo a strange metamorphosis on the journey from brain to mouth – so that you finish up saying one thing but mean another? Well, join the club, it happens to us all, young or old.
I was a teenager when I amused a bus load by asking for ‘two to tango’ thereby repeating the lyric of a current pop-song instead of ordering two tickets to town. At the scruffy age of twelve I left a fish shop clientele with suspicious looks on their faces when I absentmindedly chanted our family night cap ‘Goodnight and God bless,’ as I left with my chips.
Even perfectionist Robin Day has his muddled moments. Not long ago I saw him make a right muck-up while introducing his panel for a television question programme. ‘Well I have a very mixed bag with me tonight,’ he growled, turning immediately to the charming lady guest on his left, ‘Miss Margaret Macdonald, of Scotland.’ While the audience heartily applauded, Miss Macdonald quickly recovered to waste a forgiving smile on the abrasive Robin, who was already grunting at his next guest.
He hadn’t noticed his innuendo but Margaret and I had. I’d like to bet she did an efficient job of reminding him afterwards.
Newspaper bereavement announcements are always sad, but I saw one recently which read doubly tragic. It concerned an elderly lady who ‘died suddenly after much suffering at her daughter’s residence.’ One can only imagine the trials she underwent under daughter’s eagle eye.
Some mistakes are better left alone. My husband and I were undergoing much suffering at our son’s school once, during a parent’s evening. Being informed by his tutor what an accomplished comedian he was and how everybody loved him even though he had no future was beginning to take its toll. So it was quite a pleasant surprise to be told by one teacher that his work showed great promise; indeed his report was so glowing, we dared to stop counting the floorboards for once and actually met teacher’s eye. I only just controlled an impulse to press my lips to his Doc Marten’s as we left. ‘Yes – I wish there were more hardworking lads like your Richard,’ he beamed.
Actually our lad’s name is Howard – but it seemed a shame to spoil a beautiful friendship.
But we all make mistakes like the New York prostitute who sidled up to corpulent actor and wit Robert Morley and cooed ‘Hey big boy, where are you going?’ ‘Actually I’m going to Australia – to play Alec Guinness’s role in the Old Country’ was his answer.
The recent report concerning the doctor, who decided to swap his trousers for a skirt, sounds a desperately tragic confusion. Certainly this should not alter his/her medical status. Yet understandably some patients felt the need to make a transfer. My sympathy is for the doctor, but I confess that if my doctor turned up in a frock my worst problem would be keeping my face straight.
