Does anyone wear backless driving gloves?
Yesterday it was my birthday. I hung one more year on the line. There’s nothing wrong with borrowing a good line, so long as you acknowledge it. In this case, praise is due to Mr Paul Simon, author of many good lines. In fact reading his songs can sometimes give as much pleasure as listening to them. This one is entirely apropos as yesterday it was indeed my birthday. In fact I wrote this yesterday and waited until today so I could use it. How sad is that?
For the avoidance of doubt I really appreciate all of the good wishes from everyone here and although I generally do what I can to ignore my birthday I admit I was quite taken aback when the Cloud forgot it, what with it being a computer n’all. But that is a digression.
It was with mild appreciation of the thought that I opened those greetings cards I had received from old friends and family. From a couple of old friends I had traditional “Man Cards”. Looking at these cards I am struck by their design. One is a picture of classic sports car racing overlaid with a 1960s crash helmet, backless leather driving gloves (the kind with little holes for the knuckles) and in the bottom corner a disemchassied steering wheel. The other features a golfer displaying a perfect follow through in the upper left corner and in the bottom right someone fishing by an idyllic river. On the right side there is a massive fishing rod and on the left a massive golf club. It looks like an iron to me - not that I play.
Now here’s the thing. Who thinks this is what is on a fella’s mind, particularly on his birthday. I confess that I have always had a passing fancy to obtain an Austin Healey 3000 which is in my view a work of art. But let’s not kid anyone. I don’t want the car, beautiful though it is. I’d want the project to restore one. But I would never find the time. It would remain in bits on the garage floor. A good one is at least £25k anyway and I can’t justify that. I certainly don’t fantasise about 1960s rallying. Neither do I fish or play golf. No-one I know fishes and only a few hearty types play golf. We probably give thought to sex and the female form several times an hour, but realistically for most of us normal folk that is nothing other than a passing fantasy, about as likely as playing golf in a cap and plus fours - with argyle socks (I see I forgot to mention those items). Besides I notice that all of my cards are from women or couples where the woman wrote it, probably bought it and almost certainly is the one that remembered my birthday. I wonder if they were designed by women too.
I should mention a counter point. I had a card from an old friend of the female variant that had as its basic tenet that ants catch fire when you focus sunlight on them through a magnifying glass. But let’s not let facts ruin a good generalisation. Perhaps “man cards” are difficult. Perhaps I’m difficult. Perhaps I am a genuine grumpy old man now. I certainly hope that my friends and family aren’t suggesting I should leap into a time warp and vanish to some netherworld where everyone races old cars or sits by the river all day long. But really, grumping aside, why worry? Give me a call, send me an email or send me wine. I’d be just as happy.
14 Comments
Another day older and deeper in debt - that's another good line. Johny Cash.
Cards for men are hard to buy. I have an off-beat sense of humour. Many folks do not 'get' it. If I could find cards that reflected how I really feel about people...well, some things are best left unsaid.
Glad you had a good day, Mr P. Here's to another year.
And for that matter who on earth wears drumming gloves ?? Have a great un-birthday then.
Women buy cards in bulk (usually). Stocking up for forthcoming occasions. They will take time over selection, fitting the card to the recipient. Men rush in, pick up a card, pay for it and leave!
Ok, that's a generalisation ... but not that far from the truth.
'Twas my b/day the day before Alan's and I was also pondering the selection on display on the bookcase. Of ten cards nine depicted either bottles of wine or beer. The tenth was a dig at my age from my lovely wife!
So my friends and family seem to think I have a problem and my wife is after a younger model!
Mac
So, what were you doing on Thursday?
Happy belated birthday, Mcallan.
So if you were to receive an appropriate card, what would it look like? There's a definite gap in the market and loads of card-buying women to fleece. I do wonder, really. Why is it so difficult? Even a man-bunch-of-flowers on a card? Could there be such a thing?
Oh, and your Austin Healey 3000? I didn't realise it was a car - I thought it was a rugby-playing, Strictly-Come-Dancing, Question-of-Sport type of bloke who does a mean Paso. But what do I know?
I thought Austin Healy was an old labour politician that used to wear a long coat...
I am sure he would go for far less than £25k and I know there are many people who would love to take him apart but fiw with an inclination to rebuild him. and yes, he does have a brother named Jenson
AP,
I am sure that your friends struggled to find a card which suits you as much as you struggled to give a gracious response. It is a captive industry which invents demand. People would feel guilty if they failed to send you a £2 bit of cardboard with some bland sentiments. If you try to change that, you only add to their burden.
Happy Birthday.....
P.Si am not sure what an Austen Healey looks like? A sixties sports car of some sort? Last week I walked from Eynsford to Shoreham and passed Lullingstone Castle which opens it's grounds occasionally. (here is some sort of world garden) For some reason, the car park was full of antique cars. All were stylish and individual and working models. Someone local has an e-type jaguar and people look up when he passes. Mind you, I have not seen this car for some time so, perhaps, it has passed away.
I'm probably one of the few here who remembers what an Austin Healey 3000 looks like. Although I never owned one, I sat in and drooled over a powder blue metallic version back in the sixties. And somewhere at the bottom of my scarf and glove drawer their lies a pair of battered old pig-skin driving gloves; they take up so little room I can't bring myself to throw them out!
A nice, nostalgic blog. Many Happy Returns, :-)
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