Yesterday we went out to lunch with a bunch of old friends. This particular group gets together two or three times a year, sometimes just to eat and drink and chat, sometimes to go on trips on steam trains - a bunch of old young-at-hearts out having fun. Yesterday we were a somewhat depleted group - some of our number are off on holiday or busy doing this and that in other places - only eight of us sat down to lunch. But we had a round table and decided that a group of eight at a round table is probably ideal for the kind of conversation where everyone can join in.
King Arthur had the right idea. Long oblong tables lead to the group splitting into factions. Is this of significance in the design of parliamentary chambers. Ours is a long oblong with a big enough space between the two sides so that nobody can reach over with a sword and poke an opponent. Other countries, but not all by any means, have a semi-circle. Maybe we should have more government in the round.
One or two of our party yesterday expressed an interest in getting home in time to watch the Corbyn-Johnson debate on television. One had organised for her husband to record it for her in case she did not get home in time. I decided to give it a miss. Another friend has expressed her disappointment that Jeremy Corbyn did not call Boris Johnson out for a liar - probably not his style. The newspapers seem undecided as to who “won”. In the end, of course, the only winning that counts is next Thursday’s.
Not thinking of Christmas is an impossibility at present. In a magazine article this morning I read this:
“The festive season is a frenzy of spending: in 2018, according to a survey by Deloitte, we spent an average of £299 per person on gifts in the UK, many cast aside on Boxing Day.”
Wow! Some people must spend an awful lot.
A dancer interviewed about life in general, spending in general, not just at Christmas, said, “I spend like a man with three arms”. What a strange but very descriptive expression. A friend and former colleague of mine always used to describe profligate spending as spending like a wild gipsy.
Some people don’t just spend on family members at Christmas but also on their pets. Pet owners are now going to shout at me that pets are members of the family too. Research shows that pet owners spend an average of £44 on Christmas treats for their pets (a national total of £528million!!). Now I read that Tesco and Sainsbury’s are selling special own-brand mince pies for dogs. Tesco is also selling macarons for “small breed pooches”, filled with a dog-friendly “yoghurt”. Whatever dog-friendly yoghurt is! Pet owners don’t want their animals to feel left out in all the Christmas festivities and want to share with them. They can’t share “human” mince pies with their dogs because the raisons are poisonous to dogs. Hence special “mince pies”.
There are also pet advent calendars.
And you can but Pawsecco from Tesco, a kind of pretend Prosecco for cats.
I am astounded!
It is estimated also that 52% of Britain’s pets are overweight. So they really are just like humans!
And here is something I found pointed out in letters to today’s Guardian: the expression, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn!” should read “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a dam!” A dam, it seems, is a worthless Indian copper coin and the expression comes from the days of the British Raj. Who knew? Was Rhett Butler aware of this and did he give a dam/damn?
Finally: our heroes grow older; Noam Chomsky is 91 today - proof that thinking and philosophising is good for longevity!
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