It’s the age that shows

John Ward
John Ward
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WARD’S WORLD: By madcap inventor John Ward

The more I try to unravel the goings on of today’s happenings in the world which are both varied and mind numbing, I don’t know if I should feel concerned or the fact I lived in an age where common sense was something you were born with (hopefully but questionable in some cases..) as opposed to today’s method whereupon you get it on your mobile phone or hand held device either free or by subscription.

Yonks ago – yes, its social history time again – in an era where you were told or warned about things and not to either touch, play with or join, you took notice of and respected the supposed guidance of your elders and usually their words turned out to be accurate or near to it be it, as in things like basic religion as in: “Just pray that it will come out the carpet as your dad has always said you don’t dismantle your motorbike in the lounge, even if it’s raining outside – it gets in the way of his watching the telly and upsets the cat.”

Another sort of urban myth was your mother warning you: “Always wear clean underwear in case you get knocked down by a bus and you get taken to hospital,” but in my case it had an added footnote as in: “And make sure if it does happen to you, that you let us know when the visiting times are because your dad plays darts on Tuesdays and cricket on Thursday evenings,” and so I made a mental note not to get involved in any accidents during the summer months as I might upset either the darts or the local cricket matches.

This ‘wear clean underwear’ warning was not lost on one of my friends’ mums as she said that due to some of the local bus routes being cut out or amalgamated (I think that is how you spell amalgamated) and so with less buses about, he could perhaps get an extra few days out of his underwear before going in the wash – ugh!

My mum, she of the people for the people, taught me a lot of things plus wisdom (no, not Norman but his films still inspire) with one of them that I will never forget her telling all those years ago: “When you get to my age, you will fully understand what I mean,” and to be fair, I am there now and for the life of me I am still not sure about it as she left no written instructions as in A, what to look for in order to be able to ‘understand’ and B, how will I know if I find it?

One of the defining moments in our family history of sorts was the time mum, who used to get up earlier than anybody else in the house and once she did her minor ‘bits and bobs’ she would make a cup of tea and if dad was not up after all this, she would make him a cup and take it to him up in bed (things have moved on nowadays as this would be a case for the Equal Rights for the Downtrodden Female Movement and barristers blowing the dust off their wigs with on-going court cases to follow) and on this occasion she duly went upstairs, woke him and told him a cup of tea was on the bedside table.

He awoke and spent the next five minutes searching in vain for the said cup of tea, two sugars, but to no avail. He got dressed and checked the windows to see if anybody had forced entry to get in and take it but no, so he went downstairs to see what had happened and there it was on the kitchen table, still about warm by now.

On asking how or why, mum replied she was so taken by hearing Dickie Valentine (look him up on-line) singing or rather one of his records was on the radio, she forgot what she was doing but knew she went upstairs for some reason or other so mission complete but a ‘nil by mouth’ result.

This was the family talking point for ages (we didn’t get out much then) and indeed years after but mum said this was no different to voting as she pointed out that she was full of promise initially even if the end result was not as expected.

Bizarreness is a different game today altogether. Imagine a couple have a child called Cleaver Zitt who has recently entered the world as we know it – but who has requested privacy under the Human Rights Act to have their gender withheld be it male, female or status pending – with a weight of x kilos but with the right to have this information also withheld due to the Data Protection Act.

Cleaver Zitt can already use a smart phone and has one’s own profile on social media with over one and half million ‘friends’ including other thumb suckers and a recent photo of an half eaten rusk gained over seven million ‘likes’ against Cleaver Zitt’s name plus an account with Witter, where there are over two million followers and they are all keen to know when he/she/status pending takes their first steps in walking plus the second nappy changing (disposable but ozone friendly type) when shown on MeTube went viral within minutes.

The very first birthday party for Cleaver Zitt is already planned and the singing sensation ‘Zatus Bee Zuss’ have been booked to play at the party with a medley of their number one smash hit ‘How Ling We Goana Last?’ .

However as the party is in seven months time, will they still be about then or touring holiday camps singing their number one smash hit ‘How Ling We Goana Las’?

Any near as dash it answers to Witter please.

Next month Cleaver Zitt is appearing on ‘Tight Wimmin’ the lunchtime television programme talking about the struggles of being a person born into an under privileged background and how will it affect a possible career in stand up comedy followed by an emotional appearance on the Jeremy Pile programme explaining why having only two parents, Krypton and Tanzanite, as in one of each category, is a basic fundamental let down in the modern social spectrum.

To think as a mere child my main worry or concern was why the string on my yo-yo always seem to fray when it was getting interesting and the said yo-yo would be seen breaking free and shooting off into the road and being flattened by a passing vehicle.

Although to be fair there were signs that I may well have been a contortionist in later life but it never quite happened of course although the clues were there like my mum saying: “Just you look at that dirt on the back of your neck, my lad.”

To be honest I don’t think I had the support that young Cleaver Zitt might have as I had to make do with just having real parents, give or take the odd invisible cup of early morning tea of course, for which Dickie Valentine must share some of the blame.