At last, the skies have cleared, the park is full of ducklings and at night you can hear the music of happy drunks shouting and singing with mouths full of cold kebab while they stumble homewards. Eli is feeling good, my annual ‘Seasonally Affective Disorder’ is being burnt away by the sunshine and the smell of cremated ‘Iceland’ burgers drifting from last summer’s fat encrusted-barbeques on the gentle breeze.
Keynsham Park: Gert lush
The skies are clear and filled with the joyful singing of birds and the wailing sirens of fire engines on their way to the latest stolen car on fire. The flowers are out in the park, fighting for space with the estranged ‘weekend fathers’ in virginal white trainers, impressing their nonplussed offspring with footballing skills they never knew they had. See them proudly displaying their mid-life crisis in a ‘keepy-uppy’ display while dodging the dog turds and sweating like John Prescott in a pie factory.
As for the ladies of the town, gone are the jeans and lumpy jumpers and here are the short hems and tee shirts. Lily white calves proudly on display, thongs tastefully pulled up above waistlines for all to admire while they wiggle seductively along to the sound of ‘white van mans’ horn. But a note of caution to some of you men and women, nay a plea, and you know who you are. Two words; cover up! If you must bare all, do it at home, or in the new tanning shop.
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This is a time of year to be optimistic, enjoy your town, wherever that might be. Leave your hermetically sealed, all terrain monster at home and walk. Feel the sun on your face, walk barefoot in the park (carefully) and forget the crap High Street. Make like the TV advert, you know the one; group of kids paint out the graffiti outside the chippy, they lose their ball in a tree and it is recovered by an old biddy, precariously perched on a branch and she is helped off a bus by a kindly conductor etc etc. Try it you may like it. Don’t scowl at the toothless old crone in the electric chariot who is blocking the whole pavement while she discusses her incontinence. Flash her your best smile and offer her a tissue.
Kids, don’t smash up the phone box, ring your granny from it and ask her to help you get your youth club. Don’t shout at the parking warden when you get a ticket, just smile and thank her for pointing out your misdemeanour. Okay so now I’ve gone too far, scratch that last one. But you get the picture, dust off your Bermuda’s and your Jesus boots, forget your rising mortgage and get out there and enjoy the place, it’s yours after all.
Eli McChurch firstname.lastname@example.org