Old Heatonian

Sad news…

Since my last post, as predicted, both the Delvers and the Fountain have closed down, with no official word available as to whether they will be reopening any time soon, although there is a persistent rumour circulating that the Fountain will be reopening under new management sometime this week.

That leaves the Kings Arms the only pub in the village, especially as the Turf (aka Queens) is currently closed for refurbishment again. Suggestions that the RHQM is to be reported to the EU for monopolistic tendencies should be discounted, and I really should stop spreading that particular rumour(!)

However, there has been good news too - the RHQM’s tiny tiny doggies have provided him with a litter of even tinier puppies. I want to get one for the diminutive Mrs Funk - so that she can feel like a giant.

The Bakers will be celebrating their nuptuals in Whitby this week. I will be doing the photography, and am currently searching for a diffusing filter for my camera, to try and reduce the glare from Baker Boys newly whitened choppers.

And finally, regulars may remember that I submitted a short story for publication in a charity book a few weeks ago…

Well, my tale was chosen, and I am now a published author! I won’t let it go to my head though. However, if anyone actually buys a copy of the book in question, I will be holding a signing ceremony in the Kings Arms in the not too distant future.

Seriously though, the book is to raise funds for the Warchild charity, which was set up to help children who are affected by war. It is a worthy cause, and deserving of your attention.

The book will cost you £12.50, but at least £6.00 of that will be donated to the charity. Click on the picture below if you are interested.

Doesn’t it though?

It doesn’t seem like 2 minutes since I last sat here, loosely promising ‘tales a plenty after the weekend’.  And to be fair, there are tales to tell, especially given that last Saturday was the long awaited stag do for our resident baker, who will be marrying his long suffering boyangoo on Friday 13th June.

However, that will have to wait - such material should be treated with respect and given the attention it deserves.  I can promise descriptions of kidnap, watersports, fireplay with dangerous weapons and not a small amount of cross dressing though, so don’t miss it…

Things have taken a turn for the worse in some of the pubs in the village, with the Delvers (reportedly) resorting to selling beer at £2 a pint during the tea time session to get the punters in.  This has had a knock on effect on the Fountains trade - traditionally busy at tea time - to the extent that they feel it is no longer economically viable to stock anything other than the staple beers of the village (Carling and John Smiths).

While I am sure that noone would like to see either of these businesses fail, in these days of tightening belts in the face of economic uncertainty, coupled with the ever accelerating duty escalator imposed by this ‘peoples government’ and the new advertising campaigns designed to encourage you to drink less or ruin your health - I don’t honestly think there is room in the village for more than 2 pubs anymore.  Realistically speaking, I don’t think there is the regular custom in the village for more than 1 pub to make a decent living.  And I don’t think there is anything anyone can do about it.

Which is sad.

Heaton has always had a vibrant social scene, with the friendly rivalry between the respective hostelries spilling out into other, competitive areas of life.  What was euphemistically termed the ‘Heaton Beer Festival’ - a pub crawl from the Delvers down to the Fountain and back again, undertaken by myself and various colleagues over the weekend in what seems like the long distant past - is no longer affordable by many, in times when we breathe a sigh of relief when we switch off the central heating in spring and start to repay the winter fuel bills in installments.

Given that duty on fuel, alcohol and tobacco are among the main revenue earners for the government, I often wonder why the government is so keen to discourage us from using them.  I appreciate that any government has a duty of care over its citizens, and should legislate in accordance with that.  But they also have a duty to afford quality of life to its citizens, and this is being sharply eroded by the draconian measures imposed to ‘keep us healthy’.  I think there is a more sinister reasoning behind it all…

1. Increased costs = less money with which to save

2. Less savings mean that we will be less likely to retire from work in a timely fashion = less strain on the State Pension pot.

3. A healthy, geriatric workforce is economically better than an unhealthy, geriatric workforce, so lets take money off people by taxing potentially unhealthy luxuries to death, increasing revenues, decreasing quantities consumed and potentially decreasing the financial burden on the NHS in the long term.

Who cares how many pubs, breweries, haulage companies, factories, shops…etc. go to the wall?

The flaw in all this is evident - where will the ‘healthy geriatric workforce’ work?

Things have been quiet on the Old Heatonian front lately, as has been pointed out to me by one or two of our regular readers…

However, the sun is still shining, and we are in the foothills of another Bank Holiday weekend. So who knows, after this weekend I may have plenty tales to tell.

I’ve not been too well lately either. In fact I went to the doctors the other day.

After I had explained my problem, and he had cogitated possible reasons for my symptoms, he finally said:

‘Mr. Funk, I think you should stop masturbating’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m going to examine you now!’

Ba Dum Ching!

In a world where the most powerful Conservative in the country is currently Boris Johnson, and our next Prime Minister is highly likely to be David Cameron, not that much of note has been happening in the village lately…

Or has it?

Word reached us recently of a kerfuffle involving a wedding party and a semi naked man at the Fountain on Saturday night. Our correspondent reports:

‘I was dying to get in there and have a pint of delicious hand pulled cask ale, but my forward perambulation was curtailed on at least three occasions by a semi naked man, hollering with gusto and causing a major obstruction in the entry way. It really won’t do’.

Apparently, all hell broke loose in the public bar, but the police soon sorted everything out, and pretty soon the wedding party was firmly esconced in the Kings, where by all accounts they behaved admirably.

The recent sunshine has caused the usual rash of ‘geezers wearing shorts’ around the village. There are even reports (unconfirmed as yet) of certain pseudo Welsh personages wearing shorts with SOCKS & SANDALS*!

Conversation in the Kings last night wound its merry way round to our respective eating habits, with a focus on breakfast. The consensus of opinion was that porridge was probably the best choice, with it being good for cholesterol and a ’slow burner’, meaning that a belly full of porridge on a morning would sustain you well into the day with no need for extra curricular snacking. Our sailor friend went on to describe his chum, who had sailed single handedly from Wales to Australia in his 31ft boat, sustained only by getting his oats on a regular basis.

How we guffawed!

*may not be true

Apologies if this all sounds a bit breathless - I’ve been in the Kings!

It all began Saturday afternoon in the Kings. Our resident sewage expert was pontificating about his skills, but focusing on his (as yet unproved) equestrian abilities:

‘You think it’s all a bit girly ‘cos it’s mainly a girls sport, but I reckon Show Jumping is the worlds most dangerous sport’

To be fair, I was happy to concede that he may have had a point if we took into account the whole spectrum of equestrian sports, like steeplechase horse racing for example. So we opened the question up to the merry bunch of regulars attempting to have a quiet pint.

‘What, in your opinion, focusing on mortality rate, do you think is the most dangerous sport?’

Well, opinions were split! One suggested Mountaineering, while another suggested Base Jumping. One guy even suggested Fishing! One thing was for certain though - in public, in the middle of a public house, with ne’er a care for public opinion so focussed we were on the issue(s) at hand - we were Mass Debating!

Potential answers were considered and rejected in ever quickening succession as we communally sought finality, batting ideas back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back….and forth, baaaaack……and FORTH!!!!

Finally, apparently History Tom came up with the answer to the delight of all late comers - fishing, as per his dial up text ‘answer to everything’ service. But frankly, by that time most people were outside having a satisfying fag and couldn’t really give a toss!

Due to the success of this excercise, we are planning a regular Mass Debation session in the Kings every Saturday afternoon.

Look out for the list to sign up!

Here is the new logo for the ‘Office of Government Commerce’:

Not very interesting… until you look at it with your head tilted to the left.

Now THERE’S a government department with a firm grip on it’s activities!

Well, I was pleasantly surprised this morning when the presenters of BBC News almost started to make a song and dance about it being St Georges Day…

Apparently, the flag of St George is to be flown at Downing Street today in celebration of the day!

This appears to be in response to an ‘Early Day Motion‘ tabled in the house of commons on 25th March.

It’s about time that England found it within itself to find an excuse to celebrate being english, although I still have my doubts about the suitability of St George as our patron saint, given the ambiguity about who he was supposed to be. Although, in this day and age I suppose that is a fairly honest reflection of what it is to be English anyway.

To be fair, I almost forgot that it was St Georges day myself. However, my trusty reminder service from Interflora (which I inadvertently signed up for when I sent some flowers online to Mrs Funks mother the other week) came to the rescue, sending me an email reminding me that they still sell flowers, even on St Georges day. (Other, upcoming events which I may wish to celebrate by sending some flowers to someone include the Bank Holiday on 5th May(?) apparently).

Even our local ‘ambiguously Irish’ businessman has got in on the act, offering a night of entertainment and a free supper to celebrate the day, at the Kings tonight.

So why not add weight to your national day - visit the Kings for a celebratory pint, and lobby your local MP (Marsha Singh if you are an Heatonian)  to ensure that he becomes a member of the ‘St George’s Day All Party Parliamentery Group’ , so that he can best serve your interests in the future.

Or failing that, send some random flowers to someone - that’ll always brighten someones day!

A few years ago, I was the proud keeper of two beautiful dogs.

One day, I was buying a large bag of Winalot in Tesco and was standing in the queue at the till…

A woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting The Winalot Diet again, although I probably shouldn’t because last time I’d ended up in the hospital.

I had lost 50 pounds, but waking up in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms had freaked me out at the time.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and the way that it works is to load your trouser pockets with Winalot nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so I felt it was worth trying it again.

Horrified, she asked if I’d ended up in the hospital in that condition because I had been poisoned. I told her no…

…it was because I’d been sitting in the road licking my balls and a car had hit me!

And that’s proper flu, not your namby pamby man-flu!

Your humble author has been laid low by this horrible sickness the past week or so. Much, I may say, to the chagrin of the local hostelries, who have seen a marked decrease in Stella sales while I have tossed and turned in my sick bed.

The source of this disease? I put it down to compassion. Compassion for a friend who I found tearful at the bar, sniffling away.

‘God! Haven’t you shaken that cold off yet - you look like you should be in bed’

‘No, and I’ve just buried my cat as well’

Yeah, compassion. Compassion for the suffering of my fellow man, which tempted me to offer a compassionate hug, thereby becoming the unwitting recipient of the worst flu virus to hit the village since… well, the last time there was any proper flu around.

Newly registered commentor - the ‘Bed Master’ - even goes so far as to suggest that the person in question may have been responsible for the problems we had with the website recently(?).

And History Tom - who will by now be looking forward to his lie in on Thursday, being fortunate enough to be a member of the ‘right union’ - has gone out on a limb and declared the latest flu outbreak to be ‘worse than man-flu’. Although, judging by the total lack of energy he exhibits when he is esconced in his corner at the Kings, it might perhaps be difficult to judge whether he has EVER been laid low by a virus or not!

Note:  Further investigations have revealed that History Tom will in fact be turning up for work on Thursday.  Apparently he is a member of the wrong union after all!

First of all, thanks to everyone who has expressed encouragement for the rebirth of the Old Heatonian - it’s nice to know you are out there. Each and every post on this new page has got at least one comment on it so far (except for this one at the moment), and I’ve only had to ban one (for being drunk and disorderly, if you must know!).

Comments are good on a site such as this. They let me know that there is someone out there reading this drivel in a way that the site statistics I otherwise have to rely on can’t. In the past, the comments have also been the place for lively debate on occasion - I refer to the infamous Fountain vs Kings cricket match reportage as an example (I’d link you to the articles in question, but I haven’t reloaded the main database yet).

Comments can also be a good indicator of whether or not the things we write are of interest to anyone. I have, over the past few months, attempted to distance the Old Heatonian from it’s reputation of reporting the less savoury aspects of village life as they pertain to the odd few characters who have, by default become the focus of our unique spotlight. How did we do in that respect? I don’t know. The stats show that a slowly but steadily increasing number of people are still logging on for a look, but what do you think when you get here?

I would also like to take this (belated) opportunity to thank everyone who contributed to my recent charity run. In total, including work colleagues, I raised £245. So no free running shoes (needed £500 for that) but a good job well done.

I have big plans for the future of the Old Heatonian. Top Secret as yet though, but please, watch this space.