The Butcher's Tale

Margaret Thatcher was a grocer’s daughter…
George: I was just reading an article about Naomi Eaton, the movie star. Seems she grew up in the same town as you.
Rupert: Yes, though she was a bit older than me.
George: The article noted she passed away at the relatively young age of 60 several years ago. Did you ever know her or run into her?
Rupert: I didn't know her personally, but I remember her family because her father was the local butcher.
George: No kidding! Where was the shop?
Rupert: Right down the road from our house. My mother used to send me down there sometimes to buy sausages.
George: Fascinating. Do you have any memories of the shop?
Rupert: Her father was always draped in his blue striped apron, with rows of sausages hanging from ceiling hooks. And he had tattoos covering his forearms. Maybe from his time in the Navy, dunno.

George: I always had the impression Naomi came from an artsy kind of family.
Rupert: Well, my mother knew her mother, and she was the one who encouraged Naomi to take on roles in the local repertory theatre productions.
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Voice-over
Maybe the father also gave Naomi a boost. André Simon observed people in food preparation are like actors; they must be fit and strong, since acting and cooking are two of the most exacting professions. Rupert recalls the shop almost as a personal theatre with the butcher standing behind his counter performing.

Riffing on Sign of the Cross mnemonic in Shanghai

After noodles in the Jing Jiang dining room…
Jim: Care for a beer?
Horace: I-píng píjiǔ! One of the few phrases I’ve picked up. Means “a bottle of beer,” right?
Jim: So I hear. Let’s go find a cold one before the night gets too philosophical. (Arriving at the elevator) Shall we take her up? (Jim pats himself in four places: forehead, chest, left pocket, right wrist.) Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch.
Horace: What? Some kind of ritual?
Jim: Never know when you fly in one of these Chinese elevators. Old habit. Used to say it before flying missions in the war. If you got shot down, those were the essentials. Eyes to see, balls to run, money to bribe, and a watch to know when to move.
Horace: I always thought it was a cheeky way of making the sign of the cross.
Jim: It is. Catholic schoolboys’ version. Helped us remember the order.
Horace: Did it ever work? The ritual, I mean.
Jim: Well, got shot down over Belgium once. I had all four. Made it back with a limp and a story. So yeah, I suppose it worked.
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Voice-over
Jim riffs on the traditional Catholic mnemonic “Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch,” which itself was a way for schoolboys to remember the order of the sign of the cross. That said, the sentiment behind the phrase, checking for essential items before a dangerous mission, resonates with the kind of pragmatic rituals that soldiers and airmen might adopt. Many veterans developed personal routines or superstitions before flying or going into combat, often blending practicality with a touch of gallows humor.

The Jaguar and the Gypsy Caravan

The travelling days…

Neville: Ah, Nancy, remember those days when we lived from place to place in the gypsy caravan of ours? Those were the times.

Nancy: And stopping at our friends' places for bathroom facilities – that's something I'll never forget.

Neville: Quite the visits, weren't they? Remember how our friends reacted when we pulled up in our caravan?

Nancy: Oh, how could I forget! It varied from house to house, didn't it?

Neville: There was old Bill and Sarah. They always grinned when they saw us pull up outside. Bill would say, "Here comes trouble! Towing a poor gypsy caravan behind a luxury car," and Sarah would shake her head, but she'd invite us in for tea anyway.

Nancy: Real troopers, those two, always so welcoming. Then there was Sally and Michael. I remember how Sally would tease us, "Back again, you wanderers?" But they'd set up the spare bedroom for us with fresh towels.

Neville: Ah, and the Woodwards, they were a hoot. George would come out with a beer for me and say, "Neville, you're still towing that thing around, eh? You could have bought a mansion with what you spent maintaining that Jaguar!" But he'd spend hours chatting about cars and life.

Nancy: Not everyone was thrilled to see us, though. Remember Roger and Emily?

Neville: Oh, yes, I do. Emily was a bit less than welcoming, and I think it had to do with Roger not having a job at the time. They were struggling with house payments and had a new baby to take care of.

Nancy: Emily had that tired look in her eyes, and I could sense their financial strain. Roger seemed embarrassed about their situation.

Neville: It was a tough time for them, and I understand why they weren't as hospitable. We tried to be considerate, playing the guitar at nights, but we could see they had enough on their plate.

_________

Voice-over

Guests can outlive their welcome but as hosts, an effort has to be made for the treasured guests. 

Life as Cricket

99 not out…

Mother: That’s him. 1940.

Imran: He was head prefect.

Mother: All the boys crossed their arms in photos back then. So young, so fit. We thought we could live forever.

Imran: I feel he’s still here.

Mother: But he’s not. I don’t see him sitting in the chair. 

Imran: Today he would have been 100. Missed by only six months. A good innings though.
__________

Voice-over

Life as a cricket match? A birthday party for a man who wasn’t there, just missed hitting a century, but who nonetheless displayed great technique, timing and teamwork. Other cricket metaphors apply in this case: he kept his end up and scored a good batting average.

Bicycle under a Persimmon

Painting a persimmon tree…

Instructor: Simple.
Learner: Yes. In keeping with my watercolor skill level.
Instructor: Does it have a meaning?
Learner: It does. I’m painting the tree but it reminds me of when I got my first bicycle I’d park it under the persimmon tree in the garden.
_________
Voice-over
Boyhood bicycle-hood memory from 60 years ago. The boy in him recalled the bicycle, while the septuagenarian appreciates the tree. Vision is fusion.

Beer Below the Falls (1965)

Unchanged since 1965

Revisiting the falls...

Frank: I last came here in ’65.
Nancy: Ooh. Fifty-five years ago? That’s a long time back. You came by motor bike?
Frank: No. By car, an old Austin. Warwick’s car. The two of us drank beer here in the late afternoon below the falls.
Nancy: Very different then, was it?
Frank: The falls are the same but back then it was pretty remote. Up a shingle road. It was the last time I saw Warwick. He was studying psychology but he suddenly went back to his hometown. Heard he became a panel-beater.
_________
Voice-over
Finding people after many years who never made it onto the internet can be hard. Some we may never locate. Our memory may recall a car, or the name of the beer, but personal recollection may not help much.

A green door

Looking across the road...

Walter: See that house. Number 9? There's a story to that front door.
Robert: The green front door.
Walter: Yes. It's 1915, and a young man comes out that front door, opens the gate, and walks off down the road with his kit bag slung over his shoulder.
Robert: A soldier?
Walter: Called to the war. To serve country. Boarded the train and never came back.
Robert: Europe?
Walter: Died in the mud near Ypres.
__________
Voice-over
All that is left of those many are their names commemorated on plaques. In the the war memorial. A way to remember young lives cut short. Sometimes memory of them lingers in other ways.