Thursday, November 29, 2007
NEVER IN A MONTH OF ...
In the 1980's John Peel used to champion a band called Serious Drinking. One of their songs was Countdown To Bilko. The lyrics seemed to be based around the fact that Sundays were crap. There was nothing to do and you would be bored silly until Bilko was on BBC2 in the early evening (I think Bilko was on BBC2 on Sunday evenings for about half a century).
Still, that was the 1980's for you. As I've said on a previous post about, er, a year ago, older generations were lucky by comparison. A Sunday morning at church would be followed by a cycle home through muddy country lanes, then you'd get a sound thrashing from father and everyone would gather around the wireless to listen to The Larkins, The Navy Lark, Wot Larks Pip and Round The 'Orn (Bona Fide Bona Bona Drag Racing) With Kenneth Williams, Kenneth Connor and Kenneth "Ooh, Get The Sturdy Knees In That Kilt!" McKellar.
Nowadays, Sundays are also much more exciting because the twenty four hour lifestyle means that even the most sleepy hamlet has a Starbucks and an opium den on every corner to while away the day before the seven hour commute into London.
If there isn't enough to entertain you in your home town, then you must drive off to join the nearest fifteen mile long traffic tailback to a designer retail outlet or out of town *shopping and leisure experience*.
If that isn't enough to entertain you, perhaps you feel that your life is an empty consumerist race. Maybe it is time for you to become a modern Christian. Why not spend Sunday mornings among acne riddled dungaree clad sorts clapping along to "enlightened" vicars in '80's style black denim jackets and paisley shirts playing modern hymns on the acoustic guitar?
If there isn't enough to entertain you in your home town, then you must drive off to join the nearest fifteen mile long traffic tailback to a designer retail outlet or out of town *shopping and leisure experience*.
If that isn't enough to entertain you, perhaps you feel that your life is an empty consumerist race. Maybe it is time for you to become a modern Christian. Why not spend Sunday mornings among acne riddled dungaree clad sorts clapping along to "enlightened" vicars in '80's style black denim jackets and paisley shirts playing modern hymns on the acoustic guitar?
Sundays: something has been lost; but something has been gained. Although not everybody yearns for what has been lost, or cares. Or, indeed, remembers.
Labels: Bluewater, Bona Drag, Countdown To Bilko, dungarees, Kenneth Williams, modern vicars, opium dens, Serious Drinking, Sundays
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
RICHARD THE POPWORLD HORSE
In the 1980's John Peel used to champion a band called Serious Drinking. One of their songs was Countdown To Bilko. The lyrics seemed to be based around the fact that Sundays were crap. There was nothing to do and you would be bored silly until Bilko was on BBC2 in the early evening (I think Bilko was on BBC2 on Sunday evenings for about half a century).
For me, the modern equivalent of Countdown To Bilko is Countdown To Amstell. As I've grown older, Friday Nights are no longer extended into the very small hours. Getting dressed up, pubbing, clubbing, waiting around in the freezing cold for night buses and eating cheese on toast at four in the morning while talking gibberish. Those days are well behind me, thank the feck.
Instead, Friday nights revolve around imbibing suspiciously musty tasting wine that was on a special offer at Oddbins and catching up with whatever is on Sky Plus, apart from that three hour Japanese film which was on BBC4 in March and is highly acclaimed.
First stop after Coronation Street will be Never Mind The Buzzcocks feat. Simon "Countdown To" Amstell.
All evening, I will be doing the Countdown To Amstell, in the hope that Simon will say something reasonably funny and in fairly bad taste.
Fortunately, last Friday night wasn't a letdown, because of the gag about befriending C*urtney L*ve (she murders you then pretends you committed suicide).
We live to fight another day.
For me, the modern equivalent of Countdown To Bilko is Countdown To Amstell. As I've grown older, Friday Nights are no longer extended into the very small hours. Getting dressed up, pubbing, clubbing, waiting around in the freezing cold for night buses and eating cheese on toast at four in the morning while talking gibberish. Those days are well behind me, thank the feck.
Instead, Friday nights revolve around imbibing suspiciously musty tasting wine that was on a special offer at Oddbins and catching up with whatever is on Sky Plus, apart from that three hour Japanese film which was on BBC4 in March and is highly acclaimed.
First stop after Coronation Street will be Never Mind The Buzzcocks feat. Simon "Countdown To" Amstell.
All evening, I will be doing the Countdown To Amstell, in the hope that Simon will say something reasonably funny and in fairly bad taste.
Fortunately, last Friday night wasn't a letdown, because of the gag about befriending C*urtney L*ve (she murders you then pretends you committed suicide).
We live to fight another day.
Labels: cheese on toast, Friday nights, musty wine, Richard The Popworld Horse, Serious Drinking, Simon Amstell
