Cross Cross-dressers

If you find my stories of my new life in a strange land confusing, you might want to read the tale of Maurice Wilson from the beginning.

I was somewhat taken aback by by the heated reaction to my post about Maurice Wilson yesterday. There was me thinking I was celebrating the life of a forgotten Yorkshireman and all I get are insults and denials.

I told the tale straight (no pun intended), or at least with no more tongue-in-cheek than I would have used had Maurice been a Lancastrian.

And you have to wonder why some would object to Maurice’s story being told. He was a decorated war hero for starters, so his bravery and sacrifice was not in doubt.

His experiences at Ypres contributed greatly to his later eccentricity, but since when has that been a character failing in Yorkshire? You only have to watch an episode of Last of the Summer Wine.

He pursued a dream that was beyond the endurance of lesser men and set about it with wit, grit and determination, qualities generally admired east of the Pennines.

And he might well have succeeded in being the first to reach the summit of Everest which you would think was a cause for pride and celebration in the white rose county, but not so.

Sadly, it appears that his foible of wearing women’s clothing trumps his other deeds and disbars him from membership of the Yorkshire race. Elizabeth went so far as to call him a closet Lancastrian, an accusation that would have a lynch mob on the streets in some parts of Dewsbury.

An interesting response from otherwise broad-minded commentators which is odd when you consider the other revered cross-dressing Yorkshiremen. Michael Parkinson and Geoffrey Boycott spring to mind.

I have clearly intruded on private grief and will now be changing my identity and joining the police protection programme. And that is more than a little inconvenient just before Christmas.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

5 comments… Add yours
  • Roger Green 17th December 2011

    My goodness! I did not have a chance to read the previous post until now, but Elizabeth and Pudding need to take chill pills!

  • Elizabeth 17th December 2011

    Roger, you clearly do not understand the gravity of the situation! This is something that even the great bard himself spoke of;

    “England hath long been mad, and scarr’d herself:
    The brother blindly shed the brother’s blood;
    The father rashly slaughter’d his own son;
    The son, compell’d, been butcher to the sire.
    All this divided York and Lancaster…”
    – Richard III

    Ian, we Yorkshire folk are known for our erudite wit and our capacity to overlook wrongs, so as it is the Christmas season and as I myself ventured into red rose country recently and have seen that there are attempts to nurture cordiality amongst some of its more broad-minded citizens, I, a native of the more genteel North regions, will begrudgingly overlook the severity of all this.

    However, may I point out that Mr Pudding is from that area of Yorkshire where they hang the flag upside down, dissentors of the worst variety and prone to apoplexies of rage over the slightest misdemeanour; I fear that his reaction may not be as compassionate – and if it is, is unlikely to hold for long. I hope, for your sake, that he is well into his cups and viewing the world with genial grace before he makes his response to you…

    As to a change of identity – there are some rather fetching red and white outfits doing the rounds at the moment which coupled with the name ‘Father Christmas’ and the address of ‘Lapland’ seem to provide a safe haven for just this sort of situation and can be easily rendered inappropriate when the fuss has died down. x

  • Mr Parrot 17th December 2011

    Elizabeth is right, this rivalry of ours is good-natured. I’m reminded of the final words of Richard III, that humpty-backed son of York, as Henry Tudor’s forces bore down at him at Bosworth Field: “We’ll all laugh about this in the morning.”

    But I am taking no chances and wheels have been set in motion, I can say no more for now.

  • rhymeswithplague 17th December 2011

    I’m thinking Maurice was an obviously super-macho man who was planning to distribute undies to the local Sherpa women in a ploy to making himself irresistible to them sexually once he had completed his quest of Everest and returned amongst them. You did mention that the lingerie was “scattered about” and not that it was girding his own loins at the crash site. We must simply stop over-thinking things, Parrot.

  • Mr Parrot 17th December 2011

    Thank you Mr Plague, but I cast no aspersions. It was Eric Shiption of the 1935 expedition who started the rumours of transvestism.


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