The Use Of Youth
This may be a little controversial, but, I have found a use for today’s youth. Errant teenagers now have their official space in Clare’s Society. That of helping fossils like myself, with techi challenges.
I’m lucky enough to travel around our beautiful isle to various events to show off my luxury innovative mobile picnic hampers, The Gourmet Trotters. Usually, I’m one of those people who like to catch a plane and suffer sun burn and mosi bites and dodgy tummies before I really think I’ve had a holiday. But now I am discovering countless new unconquered territories according to the Clare Manual of Lovely Britain. Don’t get me wrong, attending and setting up shows on my own is jolly hard and physical work. So it’s even more important for me to find a pleasant place in which to lay my head and rest my weary bones in the evenings.
Whenever possible I search for a small remote B&B set within a picturesque village of which there are hundreds, often with chickens in the garden (cockerels are optional and best avoided due to dawn choruses) ready to supply my patron with freshly laid eggs for my brekkie. They score even more highly on the Clare Chart if they are a mere stone’s throw from the village green (with pond and ducks!!) and the ubiquitous country pub. Having had a hearty breakfast I usually manage through to the evening dreaming of my Big Boy supper ready to be conquered by a roaring fire. Reference to fires implies correctly that I am writing this during a particularly cold snap!! In fact it’s snowing!
The Royal Oak, The Kings Head, The Duke and The White Horse are familiar British names which conquer up the image of a pint and a pie, or in my case, a steaming game casserole with a hearty mash followed by a crumble ( with custard, obviously)
It was at such venue The Bear, as it happens, that I encountered all this. I did however, encounter another more serious problem. I had just received some amazing news about the business and being away needed to share it with a few friends and family but on arrival to the pub, having chosen my supper and wriggled into the cushions I pulled out my phone to discover….NO SIGNAL. The walls in the pub and the timbers were so thick they would have kept out every sound wave on the planet (or whatever it is that makes my phone work, could be magic dust as far as I know)
Unaccustomed as I am to chatting to young handsome men…..such was my need that an unsuspecting barman was cornered…..Help! Quickly! Me! (to use the immortal words of Piglet) He had one word as a reply ‘iCloud’…. I what, I didn’t, it wasn’t me followed by’ eye’ glaze was my educated reply. I pushed the phone towards him…..’could you ,please??’ No problem was his reply and in less than a minute of frantic thumb scurrying, I was up in the clouds ready to share my news with nearest and dearest.
Thumb scurrying….where do they learn it?? Isnt it the dexterity of our thumbs and fore fingers which separates us from other primates… Are the generation of today born with this skill? Are they on a higher plateau than their parents in the race of evolution? How do you text with thumbs?????It’s a teenager thing !!! My index fingers are still my main form of communication and they do very nicely thank you very much, despite the arthritic joints.
I have to say that the barman certainly proved his ‘youth use’ that evening. As I said to him, his spontaneous act of generosity was today’s version of ‘helping a little old lady across the road’. Whereas the scouts used to claim their ‘Bob a Job’ for such heroics acts of helping ladies carry their shopping home, without bumping them on the head and making off with their purse and pension, so this young gentleman received a couple of Bob, in fact due to inflation, it was a couple of quid for this techy aid. Thank you, Miles!!!!