Gum rebels bite off all that they can chew

Ihave been exploring gum culture and the twilight world of the “chewies”, those unfortunates who have been driven underground by society’s fierce disapproval of their chewing gum habit. Not long ago, cricketers fielding at silly point could be seen openly chewing gum, but now it is a cause of shame and can only be done furtively. Poor wretches, such as Melvyn Spit (not his real name), are forced to seek their spearmint fix from some pre-chewed piece stuck to the underside of a table in a café.

Meanwhile at smart middle-class dinner parties in North London, “bubbly” now means bubblegum and it is openly passed around after the meal. “It’s so relaxing after a hard day at the office,” says Anemone Sprightly (very nearly her real name). “We do stretchingtons, seeing who can pull out the longest string of gum. And you can get a terrific buzz when the sticky bubble explodes in your face.” A single piece of top quality bubblegum has a street value of more than £180.

The chewies are aiming for that special “wrigle”, that is the state of dizzy ecstasy they get from a brand new doublemint or, even better, one of the ice gums. The danger is that kids who experiment with a soft gum, such as sugar-free spearmint, will go on to get hooked on much stronger varieties, like a cocktail of juicy fruit and freshmint.

The chewies despise “nickoes”, the users of nicotine gum. They regard them as dilettantes, part of mainstream society and not really rebels at all. And what about the expensive mess on that pavement? “It’s our protest against society,” said one militant chewie, who wouldn’t even give me a made-up name. “Spitting out the gum is part of the kick. If it sticks to someone’s shoe that’s too bad.”

Here’s an exciting coincidence: last week Oxford University agreed to ensure that 40per cent of the books on the philosophy reading list should be by women; at the same time, it was revealed that two men had been named as winners in the Romantic Novel Awards, the first time this has happened in 57 years.

Readers will want to know if there has ever been a romantic novel, written by a man, with a female philosophy don as its heroine. The answer is yes: Love’s Tutorial, by Guy Manifold, comes out in the autumn. Here are the opening paragraphs of the first chapter: “Feisty Professor Katie Randolph’s heels clattered ed on the flagstones as she dashed through ugh the cloisters of Magdalen, her gown wn flowing behind her and her hair air blowing into her eyes. She was s rushing to be back in her room and getting tting on with Chapter IX of her Critique ue of Kant’s Critique. It was the only y thing she was really passionate about. ut.

“As she rounded the corner she collided with a man coming the he other way. Katie’s heart pounded as she crouched to collect her scattered red notes. Now they would be all in the wrong order, she thought, as tears stung her eyes. She recognised d the man as he bent down to help. It was that horrid don from Balliol; they’d hey’d had a row about Wittgenstein the previous term. “If he asks me to join him in the Senior Common Room oom for a sherry I’m saying no,” she e thought to herself. Ever since her break-up with a two-timing logician, ogician,

at telegraph.co.uk/ opinion Katie was finished with men. It was no good this Balliol don giving her that quizzical smile; she was immune to the charm of his grey-blue eyes and his courtly bow as he handed her back her notes. As far as she was concerned, there was only one man in her life now and that was Immanuel Kant...” It was not until Wednesday that I r realised that last week was Nation National Salt Awareness Week. I was alread already two days behind in raising my cruet c consciousness. Of course it’s a worth worthy cause, but then hundreds of worth worthy causes try to buttonhole us by havin having their own awareness week. I’v I’ve decided to arrange National Obl Oblivious Week, to celebrate ins insouciance. There will be sparsely att attended gatherings of people, ha hanging about doing a bit of tun tuneless whistling, perhaps. Guest spe speakers may decide not to bother to s show up. Information packs will be p produced, giving tips on staring idly out of the window, but they won’t be distributed.

Rem Remember not to put the date in your d diary.