Paul Gascoigne's Tree

Now that the pandemic is over and Brexit is all sorted, it was a slow day for news at Metro yesterday, when they reported that:

When I was about twelve, I heard a joke about a guy who had a similar tattoo that read LUDO. Except that it could also advertise a well-known Welsh seaside resort when it appeared in (ahem) fuller form.

Paul Gascoigne (who he ?) was the footballer who could always rise to the occasion and score, but always seemed to get himself into emotional scrapes of one sort or another.

His latest news is rather worrisome. It made me realise in an instant how small and beige my life has been. And how private. And it raised lots of questions that I had never had to consider before. Yesterday morning.

First of all, the obvious question is: Why would anybody do that ? Some questions are better parked than answered, and this is one of those. The only possible answers I can come up with are more troubling than the question itself. Definitely best parked, and then you can get to the really interesting stuff.

Portrait or landscape ? And what on earth happens to the aspect ratio ? My telly makes people look tubbier than they really are, but you get used to it until suddenly proper proportions are restored and people look like beanpoles. But in Paul’s case, that squat oak is going to look oddly etiolated if it’s in portrait mode. And the detail will be lost if he chose landscape.

And what sort of tree ? Hopefully something like a poplar with a columnar habit. Clearly nothing pendant, like a weeping willow or cherry. A nut-tree ? Well, perhaps a good choice. Avoid all hollies: way too prickly. Did he opt for some sapling or go full sequoia ? And if so, where do the branches go ? Something pollarded might be the answer.

And as for the process, well, where to start ? How did this Michelangelo of tattoos get PG to hold still ? And how did he get the canvas full size for the complete session ? Viagra and an anaesthetic ? Having your subject generally yelping with pain is not going to make the process smooth. Some kind of stunning might be necessary. Is there a specialist tattooing clamp known only to the cognoscenti ? Ouch.

What season is it down there ? A wintry tree might be easier to realise than some May extravaganza with a zillion leaves. Or how about all the golden glows of autumn ? Deciduous or evergreen ? It is all about mood, I guess.

Has it any wild-life in it ? A tiny owl, perhaps, or a tree-creeper ascending gingerly. Or maybe a chimp or something exotic ? Who’s to say if the tree is indigenous ? Is there a tree-house or a rope swing ?

Once your mind starts to apply some brain cells to this headline, it’s hard to get away from it. Like being asked not to think of a pink elephant for 10 seconds, during which all you manage to think about is a succession of pink elephants traipsing across your brain-waves.

Come back Brexit. All is forgiven…

 

Baa humbug, Gavin

This week there are lambs everywhere. Well, maybe not everywhere, but in lots of fields. As usual they are impossibly full of energy. Bouncing around, suddenly springing into the air for no apparent reason other than sheer exuberance and the need to jump.

They are having impromptu races alongside the walls, climbing on tree stumps for a different view, and generally having a whale of a time, before they get the urge to call mum for dinner and then run across the field towards the familiar voice.

It struck me that they are so markedly different from sheep. Sheep do a lot of standing, eating, and generally have a look of endurance rather than enthusiasm. If they can remember the pleasure of jumping, they don’t much of that anymore, and the closest they get to speed is when they spot food arriving on the back of a tractor in the winter.

Standing around stoically in shaggy fleeces they could not be more different from the lambs they once were.

And suddenly Gavin Williamson was in my head, uninvited and rent-free. Not that I am suggesting he has any of the sheer seductive charisma of sheep.

But I wondered what sort of curriculum Gavin Williamson might arrange for sheep, given the experience of his approach to children.

He would want to make sure that lambs had a curriculum which prepared them for life. Since sheep do little voluntary bouncing about, that would definitely be out, except maybe at playtimes for 15 minutes.

What is the life a of a sheep like ? Well, lots of standing about with horizons limited by walls and fences. So lambs really need to get used to that. Gavin would have them shoulder to shoulder in small pens learning how to eat grass. Grass isn’t what lambs eat ? Well, the sooner they start, the better. Important that no lambs get behind.

Sheep tend to walk in lines, wearing sheep-tracks in fields everywhere. Instead of racing, lambs would be taught to walk in single file. No running !

And sheep need to be able to recognise lambs’ voices, so the lamb curriculum would have lots of recognition practice with recorded baa-ing to identify sheep voices in various simulated weather conditions.

Naturally there would be a sheep-dog course, getting lambs used to the demands of sheep-dogs, the importance of obedience to avoid being nipped, and the general perils of tangling with dogs generally.

Male and female lambs would be separated for sex education, as the curriculum would be entirely different for rams and ewes. There wouldn’t be much on relationships, and if there was any passing reference to pleasure, it would be distinctly ram-focused.

There would be a brief module on grief and how to deal with it when your latest offspring disappear to become lamb chops, leaving you sad, puzzled, and resentful.

There would of course have to be rigorous assessment to ensure that no lamb was left behind. Only lambs firmly in the middle of the bell-shaped curve would pass. Nobody likes a smart lamb: being cute is quite enough of a handicap to a prospective sheep already. And lambs who did not meet basic standards in long-standing and baa-recognition would find themselves heading to the chop factory earlier than expected.

Forget lambhood. It is important to get every new generation aligned with the demands of sheepism as soon as possible.

Sound familiar ? After fixing the curriculum for children, this should be a doddle. Good for you, Gavin. Give it a go.