Add to Google

30.5.16

Confused Marys




Tam shows us a picture from a society magazine. I glance at the picture and tell Tam that it’s Mary, just before performing a fundraising charity fan dance. Tam is shocked and says that he doesn’t believe that such an important person would perform an exotic dance. I tell Tam he is quite right, Mary is a serious student of dance and would never do anything immodest, she comports herself with the utmost decorum at all times; even though the dance is quite energetic and, even when when she taken off all her clothes and is doing back-flips across the stage, she keeps her tiara on and presents herself elegantly and with the dignity befitting her position. Tam is looking at me as if I am talking nonsense and Juan says I am talking nonsense, in fact, he tells Tam, Mary takes her tiara off and twirls it around the fan which she folds up and spins while singing Rule Britannia and doing the splits. I tell Tam that this is purely to demonstrate that she an accomplished musician, sportswoman, acrobat and patriot who, graciously, incorporates circus tricks into her dance in order to enliven the deadly dull lives of her fellow aristocrats.

Tam yells that we are being ridiculous, no member of royalty would do such a thing. Bev says that Mary isn’t royalty, Tam says that she is royalty because she is a princess, and you can’t have an unroyal princess. Bev says that we have our Mary’s confused and the Mary I am talking about is the Right Honourable Mrs Wilfred Lawson. I point out that I said so all along. Juan says I didn’t and adds that Wilfred is a strange name for an exotic dancer, Bev says that her real name is Mary, Wilfred is Mrs Lawson’s husband’s name. Juan says that Mary Wilfred is a peculiar name for a man.

I can’t stand listening to this drivel any longer and, to stop the conversation, call for a crate of Tamnavulin Private Reserve for us and a pint of real ale for all the real ale enthusiasts. There’s a lot of cheering, we offer toast after toast to Mary and all her fans, I grab a hunting horn from the wall of the pub and play ‘The Valiant Fox Hunter’ and ‘Hunting the Savage Fox’ as, singing and yelling in excitement, we dance around the pub in exuberant confusion, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink’s Diary