Monday, July 02, 2007
Rites Of Passage
I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll. In fact that’s probably when she first stuck in my mind. Having waded my way through a pile of the much hated maths homework it was time to name and shame. Eventually it was her turn.
“….and what about yours then?”
Not bad for an eleven year old. I couldn’t fault that one. Original and interesting reasons are let off. If I have heard the excuse before, then it’s tough luck Sherezada. I have had my fill of left it on the bus, dog ate it, brother was sick in the bag and my mum had to burn the book. Give me one of those, and its out with the detention slip…..
*OI! Hang on a minute, I don’t want any of the older readers drifting off into a ‘those were the days fantasy…or worse..Settle down there.*
That was all quite a long time ago. In later years she used to phone me up from Glastonbury just to taunt me. I got my own back in 2005 though.
The thing is, this Saturday gone, She Of The Town House and I were guests at her wedding to a young man who I am reliably informed is a pretty good chef.
And a bloody good do it was too.
Hey Mike, Guess where they are spending their honeymoon?
And that was all I meant to write about. Fleshing it out with another tale or two of course, but something else has pleasantly sidetracked me.
You know, when I graduated we all went up to the board to see who had passed. I didn’t realise until that very moment that there were different classes of degree. I couldn’t understand why my mate Clive was fed up because he had passed. I still think he was a bit precious about it mind. There were quite a few that didn’t. I had to go to my tutor to get and explanation of what my qualification meant. He couldn’t believe that anyone could be so naive but the truth was no one had ever told me. I was the only person in my immediate family that had ever got a degree. I got what I subsequently came to know as a “Desmond”.
Today my own daughter cleared her hurdle and is now the proud clutcher of her own degree that isn’t an ‘ology. I am so proud of her I could spit.
I hope she finds it easier to get a job than I did!