Sunday Round-up

My round-up of news, events and stuff and nonsense that caught my eye this week.
If it’s news to me, it must be news to you!

UncertainTEA

Brexit means.. er.. whatever you want it to

There hasn’t been much to smile about as we watched the slow-motion car crash that is Brexit so even more politically cynical Sunday Round-up than usual.

But I did spot this Brexit UncertainTEA cup and saucer which you can use to predict how things might eventually shake out by reading the tea leaves.

Speaking of Brexit and tea

I had to go back to James Acaster’s brilliant teabag analogy for this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. And also from 2017, the Brexit mean Brexit Titanic movie.

Happy with your purchase?

As you will have gathered, I’m none too happy with the way things are going because like the politicians and the pundits I don’t see any way out of this mess that isn’t going to outrage one half of the country or the other. Jonathan Pie articulates my own anger better than I can.

And that’s the problem – the two halves of the country at each other’s throats as we saw when the likes of Anna Soubury were accosted by far-right activists for daring to have opposing views. Jonathan Pie again, asking whether we’ve reached peak Nazi.

But should you be in need of a smile

And some enlightenment, I recommend The Story of Brexit by Ladybird Books. It made me laugh as a Christmas present, but I’m not laughing now.

And in politics elsewhere

Across the Atlantic, the man investigating the Russian meddling in the 2016 election now has his own action figure.

In other news

A series of photos taken in 1926 reveal long-lost characters in London including an escapologist, a telephone wire inspector, a knife grinder and a knocker-up.

Eggstrordinary

Kylie Jenner has lost her record for the most liked post on Instagram by a photo of an egg.

In the mood for Valentine’s Day

Tyrell’s is helping couples get in the mood with honey and chilli flavoured aphrodisiac crisps.

Out of Africa

Artist Max Siedentopf has set up a rig to play Toto’s Africa in a Namib desert that will play continuously for all eternity as you can see from the video.

And finally

A diplomatic row has broken out between Canada and Norway about who has the tallest statue of a moose. Personally, I think the Norwegian chrome creation is the best.

Brief Lives

Former Leeds and South Africa footballer Phil Masinga; top-flight footballer and county cricketer Mike Barnard; Eugeniu Iordachescu who saved dozens of Romanian churches from Ceausescu’s bulldozers; larger-than-life Broadway star Carol Channing; circus performer Willy Lenz who brought us boxing chimpanzees and; It Ain’t Half Hot Mum actor Windsor Davies.

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.

7 comments… Add yours
  • Yorkshire Pudding 20th January 2019

    Knocker up? You mean like Warren Beatty, Mick Jagger and Simon Cowell? Shame that Philip May failed to knock up his missus then we wouldn’t have to be suffering the impact of her anal retentiveness.

    Reply
  • Trevor Rowley 22nd January 2019

    We had a knocker-up. A middle-aged (or even elderly) couple, Edie and her husband, lived somewhere down the bottom end of Astley Street in Dukinfield, Cheshire. Not sure where he worked but I would guess (given the direction they were travelling in) it would have been in one of the numerous cotton mills on Park Road (Tame Valley) in Dukinfield, although also adjacent to the abundance of mills also found in that part of Stalybridge and Ashton-under-Lyne. Edie was employed as a cleaner at one of the rather grand Victorian houses on Hall Green Road. Her employers were the Hinchcliffe family who owned the popular and well-respected pharmacy on King Street.

    I’m not sure what form of “knockin’ up” was used (some used a long pole with twisted wire on the end) but I would guess, in our case, it was no more than a gruff shout up from the street to the open bedroom window above. It must have been effective enough as I don’t recall my father ever being late for work.

    As a little aside, my mother was a regular patron at a nearby cinema – The Palladium, on Crescent Road, about a five/ten minute walk from our home. The Palladium was known locally as “The Bughut” (for obvious reasons) and “The Ranch” (because of the number of cowboy films they showed). By chance, Edie and her husband were also regulars there. Edie’s husband must have been quite deaf as Edie had to give him a running commentary throughout the film – and she delivered this in a loud voice which was enough for everyone else in the auditorium to benefit (?) from. In those days, the films (usually a main film plus a supporting film) changed in midweek and weekends, so any patrons at the Palladium could guarantee they would get Edie’s commentary at least once during the whole week (or twice if they were lucky).

    Reply
    • Mr Parrot 22nd January 2019

      Sounds as though Edie and her husband would have been one of the Old Hall families that were re-housed when the old houses were demolished in the 50s I think. My dad talks about them a lot although the only name that immediately springs to mind are the Threadgolds.

      He also talks about his regular Monday trips to the cinema with his mum. They went to that place that is now a snooker hall at the corner of King Street and Astley Street. He recalls walking home one night during the war in pitch blackness and with shrapnel pinging around from stray bombs or bullets!

      We were at the cinema ourselves last week to see the excellent Stan & Ollie. It is a much more regimented affair than it was when I was young. Remember when it was quite okay to enter in the middle of a film and hang around for the next showing to catch the bits you missed? I doubt if that is allowed these days.

      Reply
      • Trevor Rowley 22nd January 2019

        Forgot to mention before, but I seem to recall that Edie’s husband wore steel-bottomed clogs (as was still quite common for older working class men in those days). Consequently, you could hear him steadily approaching up the street before he even got round to his “knocker-up” duties.

        PS The establishment on King Street was the Princess cinema (known locally as the “Prinny”) and here’s one of their ads for August 1944

        “Matinees: Monday and Thursday at 2-15 Prices: Circle 9d, Stalls 6d
        Continuous: Monday, Tuesday to Friday from 6 pm: Saturday from 4-0

        Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday —
        BING CROSBY and BOB HOPE in
        Road to Singapore

        Thursday, Friday, SAturday
        CHESTER MORRIS and NANCY KELLY in
        Tornado”

        Reply
      • Trevor Rowley 25th January 2019

        I wonder if these were your dad’s Threadgolds, Mr P?

        Alfred Threadgold and Edith Haigh
        married in 1932 at St Lawrence’s Church, Denton

        Reply
        • Mr Parrot 26th January 2019

          I will ask him, Trevor, although I would have thought that Denton St Lawrence would be outside their bailiwick.

          Reply
  • Roger Green 23rd January 2019

    The week before she died, I was at my choir party. Someone asked, “Is Carol Channing still alive?” I said, “Yes!” Someone asked, “How do you know without looking it up?” I said, “Because she’s Carol Channing!”

    Reply

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