Fed up with all this – why not have a rant?
I HAVE this vision of Rab C Nesbitt surviving lockdown and selfisolation by standing in his back yard and ranting at the moon. Whatever it takes.
And, for Rab C, a good oldfashioned rant could be exactly what it takes.
Then again, some people prefer Trivial Pursuit, a game of table tennis or a 1,000-piece jigsaw with the last piece missing.
The latter three guesses are from notes I have taken over the last couple of weeks of what folk have been buying to stave off boredom since the pubs shut three months ago. All right, two weeks.
For me and Maria it has, actually, been three months going on four since we last entered licensed premises. My back went on Christmas Day and imposed its own self-isolation because my legs wouldn’t work. And, no, we haven’t had a drink at home. How daft would that be if I fell down the stairs legless because I had forgotten I was legless? We have got along fine without the aid of alcohol and our only trips out have been to Huddersfield Royal Infirmary (twice) and the Claremont Hospital, in Sheffield (also twice).
In case you are wondering, other items folk have been buying include more board games, pool tables and garden sheds.
Pool tables, I should imagine, will have gone to people who are well off and have the space, although I have seen them crammed into extremely small rooms in pubs where, to play a shot from one side, entailed using a cue no more than two foot long while kneeling on a bench-seat. Garden sheds are actually a mystery. Could this be mum’s special place, where she can go to finally start the autobiography she always said she would write.
“Warts and all.”
“Nay, love, don’t be so hard on yourself. You don’t have any warts.” “No, but you do.”
Or perhaps it’s Rab C Nesbitt’s refuge where he can go and shout at the moon. This was my favourite edition of the award-winning TV series when, on a holiday in Benidorm, he stood on the balcony of the hotel in his string vest and shouted at the world … and got a reply from a Spanish doppleganger ranting back.
As Rab said: “There’s nothing that restores yer faith more in human nature than meeting some poor b ****** that’s just as mad as yourself.”