When people tell me '40,' what they're really meaning is my apparent age, which I have remained at since my mature and sensible, yet fun-loving crazy self (think youth activity centre manager) kept it wholesome on Swap Shop at a time when ITV were unleashing an unbridled torrent of filth that forever corrupted the kids. I'm talking TISWAS.
We kept ignoring it, plugging away at the Swap Shop roadshows and releasing that Hot Sauce record. We thought such depravity would just all blow over. But then the necessary restructuring of society on a more modern, corporate basis that Britain's Greatest Prime Minister, Margaret Dame Hilda Thatcher unleashed, led to a bewildering maelstrom of entrepreuneralism and coke mirrors, the high point of which was witnessing on a pub TV in London the good old British Bobby cracking the heads of subversive elements Somewhere up North. Our biggest companies and their lowliest employees were now freed from the tyranny of trade union practices, revolution and wage inflation. Somehow though, TISWAS slipped off the agenda. But not mine. Oh no. You're a dead man, Tarrant! Dead!
Saturday, 5 September 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment