Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Friday, 19 April 2013
Are farts funny?
I have got a mate who restores classic, vintage cars here in the Bath area, and for the last couple of years has has accompanied one of his customers in a recently restored 'Horstman' of about 1920 something, on a rally in Mid Wales. I think the customer is assured by him sitting in the passenger seat, just in case his restoration wasn't up to scratch and the A.A. don't turn up.
Horstman were a Bath company, and eventually turned into 'Horstman Gears', which - if you live in this area - you will recognise as a well-established firm, even if you have no idea what they make.
Yesterday, my mate was showing some photos of himself and the customer, bowling along the road in the Horstman with beaming smiles on their faces. The photos were taken by a newspaper man, and some photos of other cars made it to the national newspapers. The driver is wearing a leather flying helmet with goggles, and matey is wearing a Soviet fur hat with a red star on the front, as well as a military greatcoat.
The last time I tried to show him some photos of the recently unearthed, spectacular, subterranean cisterns in Istanbul which I had visited, he said, "Why does everyone think that anyone else would be interested in looking at their holiday snaps?" and refused to look at them. That was quite a few years ago, and I have never let him forget it. I mean, it was as if I had tried to show him pictures of me, sitting on a beach in a pair of Speedos.
He handed the pictures around to us at lunchtime (refusing to hand them to me after I made a pointed comment about 'holiday snaps'), because we all work in the same area and - weather permitting - have lunch with each other out on the grass. A young, female visitor once commented that as she drove past us, she wondered what 'a bunch of old men were doing, sitting in a field and drinking tea.'
Me and another member of the lunch party came up with a brilliant idea. Next year, we suggested, he should wear a black rubber gimp-mask with a zip over the mouth, and get himself chained to the passenger seat for the entire trip. That would pretty much ensure that the Horstman got coverage in the newspapers - or at least certain magazines, if not 'Classic Car'.
The subjects we cover during the one hour lunch break are truly wide-reaching, but are very difficult to explain how we got onto them to our respective partners when we get home, so we don't bother trying. They don't even think that farts are funny.