Old Folk

May 10, 2010

Something strange happened after the posting of the last blog. You remember Oscar right? The furry Joe Pesci that I wanted to cut open and empty out? You don’t? Oh. Awkward. Anyway, the very morning after I posted the Oscar blog I left the house as usual and noticed men working on his garden (it’s his garden make no mistake). They were putting up a fence. I got back that evening to discover a fence that could keep a miffed lion securely ensconced. It now looks like they have a pet velociraptor. Which isn’t far from the truth. Oscar can no longer see anyone passing and the street is eerily bereft of his vicious little shriek. In keeping with Noel Edmonds’ cosmic ordering I asked and the universe delivered. Thank you cosmos. I think Noel Edmonds has asked the cosmos for eternal life. The man hasn’t aged in 20 years. His hair is always EXACTLY the same. Exactly.

My parents came to see the play I am doing the other night. “I like a play with comedy in it,” said my Mum, “breaks things up dunt it?” It does. We also had a buffet laid on for us by the “friends” of the West Yorkshire Playhouse, a bunch of charming, pissed, 80-somethings, many of whom were so distressed about me not having a pork pie segment they actually got quite aggressive.

“I’m just not hungry, thank you though,” I wimpered.

“Anti-social,” came the verdict. They were really lovely though and after being accosted once before because of my remarks about the homeless lady with “eyes like faces” I should add that I mean no disrespect. I had a lovely time. I felt vaguely threatened for not having a vol-aux-vent but that was the only dent in the chassis of the buffet experience.

In some of my conversations I was reminded of a visit I made last year to my Great-Auntie Lily. Great-Auntie Lily is so old she’s powered by steam. She’s in her 90s and for whatever reasons we had never seen her before. Being our oldest link to our Rigby past my Dad thought it time we visited her. When I got over the fact that she looked exactly like my granddad in a wig I listened to some great stories. One of my favourites was about a distant Uncle called John Rigby who was known by everyone locally as “John Bull” because of his habit of having 2 pints of mild and then smashing up whichever room he was in. Apparently once it took 8 policemen to arrest him after he had obliterated a pub in Stockport. I wish I had inherited this rock and roll strong man tendency, instead I get giddy, fall over and squirt mayonnaise everywhere. Not the same. When we left, Lily asked me what I did “for work”. I said I was a comedian and actor and she turned to my Dad and said, “Oh Stephen. How on Earth did you get your lad into them doings?”

There’s something that old people do that pisses me off apart from the racism. It’s when they bang on about how much better everything was when they were younger and how everything has gone to shit now. “When I was young of course every milkman would give you a piggy back to school. Back then there were no such things as keys and locks. There weren’t even doors. We didn’t need them. You couldn’t walk down the street without someone giving you a sponge cake. Now you just get happy-slapped or raped rigid and left for dead every day.” What I don’t get is a lot of horrendous shiz went down in them “good old days” such as the more than annoying Second World War and I want to say, “Sure maybe you could chat over the fence and borrow your neighbour’s pancreas without thinking twice but THE ENTIRE WORLD WAS AT WAR. ATOMIC BOMBS. THE HOLOCAUST. THE BLOODY HOLOCAUST GRAN. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY AM I SHOUTING HOLOCAUST? I’M NOT SHOUTING AT YOU I’M JUST MAKING A POINT. DON’T CRY GRAN FOR GOD’S SAKE. Ok Gran, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t agree in this ‘Golden Age’ thinking. Get out? It’s Mother’s Day we’re all here to see you. We’ve brought you 4kg of Murray Mints. You don’t want them? Jesus this is serious. I know no-one would have shouted holocaust at you in your day. I know.”


One Response to “Old Folk”

  1. caroline duncan (pugh) Says:

    Very insightful Mr rigby! You put the first smile of the day on my face. Hope your well sweetie 🙂 x

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