It's been a long time since I was able to write about the great microcosm of the world at large that is Frisby-on-the-Wreake.
But I think I've got a good one here and it doesn't actually involve Hammo, although I will try to work him in.
As we progress further and further into the 21st Century technology is progressing at an alarming rate, causing many long and cherished objects and institutions to change or even disappear.
Just think of British Leyland.
That astoundingly innovative motor company that designed a car in the seventies that was more aerodynamically efficient when it went backwards.
Among the mourned though is the public telephone service. We all have mobiles these days and so the public 'phones are not being maintained. However the sagacious entity that is the Frisby Parish Council have managed to retain our fabulous red telephone box.
This is A Good Thing.
Then they did what I consider another good thing. They put an emergency defibrillator in there for the village's use.
That is when the do-do hit the fan. Big time.
Some people are kicking off, much to my amusement. We have a load of people saying they don't want to be resuscitated, some people saying they do not want to be resuscitated by certain people, some people who are worrying about their obligations to people post life-saving, and the one family of
Jehovah's Witnesses in the village are having a dicky-fit.
The muslims are saying they do not want their life saved by a woman and the fascists would rather die than have "an ethnic" save them.
Then of course there's Hammo! (Told you I'd try to work him in.) Let's be real about this and put forward an early Saturday evening scenario during the six nations rugby championship. Hammo has been tanking it in
The Cutting Room all day and is suddenly called upon. In the real world no-one in their right mind would dare to predict where his 4,000 volts might end up.
Then there's the kids. Brilliant. They won't need to go to the pub to get their kicks. Just go into the phone box, hold a paddle to their heads and..........
"Hey man.... That was great..... Let's do it again......"
The solution is, apparently we all have a
defibrillator buddy. Someone whom we have assigned to electrocute us. Just pray that you haven't fallen out with them! Mary has asked Pete the Post to be her buddy. She has told him she'll try to give him good warning as she wears lots of vests.
It looks a lovely venue, although it's going to be quite a long day.
I always have done and the stories of him are legion. But I heard a new one this week that I just so hope is true.
He was, at one point in his life a guardsman. He was on sentry duty one night and fell asleep. When he awoke he opened his eyes and saw his commanding officer standing in front of him. Tommy said "Amen".
Genius.
Well gentle reader enough ramblings for this week. I will keep you up to date with the latest in the great defibulator debate.
Live Long and Be Toastmastered.
