It’s all Greek to me…

12 Dec


After White Christmas Bing decided to do the politically correct thing….


Back in the car and racing to work its sing-along-a-Bing-time! Christmas songs of Christmases past assault my ears as I concentrate on getting there in one piece. Last night was a fantastic. Good food, good beer and excellent company. Stuffed to the gills with Greek fare I involuntarily gurgle and pop as my stomach sloshes to the after effects of last night’s liquid refreshment. Got to love Bing Crosby, as despite the years he’s still hanging in there. Of course David Bowie helped a little; immortalizing him in The Little Drummer Boy video back in the dark days of the 1980’s, but for a balding, cardigan wearing, pipe smoking, dead guy it’s amazing how popular he still is….although peculiarly only around this time of year.

The Greek restaurant we go to  is always frequented by dead beats. Good for nothing seniors in their 60’s and 70s with their cropped grey hair and their slightly sweaty designer golf clothes. Hanging around on golfing greens and the corners of bars with their work shy cohorts, idling their time away whilst the rest of us slave our arses off trying to scratch a crust. It’s aright for them living out their twilight years in luxury retirement communities playing with their balls all day and chasing septuagenarian tail. What kinds of example are they giving to contemporary youth with their devil may care attitudes and their flippant diversions? One would think at their age they would know a little better. Clearly their slip into recitative delinquency is what is helping to drive the economic malaise.

Bored with naked-scrabble, the coffin dodgers decided to run a train on old Ma Johnson! 

Bing breaks into melodious whistling which I try to emulate unsuccessfully, managing instead to spill my coffee and soak the inside of the wind screen with spittle. Now I can no longer see the road as it’s like driving through a rain storm, and my crotch is on fire from the burning liquid. I never thought that Bing would be able to reach the parts that other crooners have never reached. I glow in all the wrong places and reflect on my growing fondness for the man. I forget the whistling and decide to hum along instead. Seems like a safer bet;  as evidenced by the darkening stain on my trousers, the danger has passed.


Clearly the operation to rectify Charlene’s hair-lip had not been a success…


Yesterday morning I did a window cleaning Job for another one of society’s malingerers. Some retired guy with nothing better to do than start a relationship with a younger working woman. Of all the nerve; talk about slapping the world in the face with a wet sloth! All of these unemployable previously employed just sitting around at home hooking up over the internet; posting their pics, show casing their best side, carefully cropping out walkers and wheel chairs. With re-trodden mouths, updated hairlines and the addition of Viagra and vitamin supplements some of these Lotharios are twice the men they once were.

Although Dorris looked great with her new dentures in, Dan couldn’t take his eyes off her bazooms….


The customer had the audacity to brag about his involvement in a gambling ring. How twice a week he sets up tables at diverse locations to tempt invited guests into enjoying a game of cards or a spin of the wheel; the slippery slope to addiction, only one red or black square away. Clearly there is some kind of unsavory shadow network operating from behind the gates of retirement communities all across Phoenix. Bands of aged delinquents forming companies; hiring themselves out for Casino nights at corporate get- too-gethers. Not satisfied with just sitting at home and enjoying their retirement they have to force themselves on the still slaving masses with their financially profitable scams. Continuing to function as useful members of society whilst supplementing their nest eggs and feathering their fixed incomes.


Back in the early days Bing sucked pipe for wooden nickles…..

Finally Bing shuts up, but not without one final plaintive whistle. My crotch is now growing cold and I yearn for the Christmases of yore and a seat near the fire; spilled coffee and soaked blue jeans are not exactly the sticky and sweet I enjoy. Destination reached and car parked, I step out of the vehicle only to have the icy Arizonan wind whip through my nether regions, quickly transforming them into polar regions. I head for the entrance looking like an incontinent zombie, dreaming of the day when I too will be a corrupter of youth; wasting my time playing in the sun and drinking the cellars of the world dry. Jealousy is a terrible thing and I have retirement envy burning through my veins as I reflect on the week ahead. Uninvited, Bing pops back into my head,however I quickly resign the old bastard to the wheelie bin of subconscious. Last thing I need at this time of the morning is some happy-go-lucky senior citizen telling me how good life can be.

And years to go before I sleep……


One Response to “It’s all Greek to me…”

  1. Paul Myers December 13, 2010 at 9:59 am #

    Jaded doesn’t quite cover it, does it?

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