As I am at the cutting edge of popular music I can I introduce you to “ The Baked Potato Song ? “ There are several versions out there, but the best of by Matt Lucas, Now, I use the word “ best “ very loosely as the other covers of the song set the bar pretty low. It’s right up there in the Top Ten of worst songs ever written along with ‘The Birdie Song’, Shutta Up Your Face, Two Little Boys and anything that’s come last in Eurovision. I suppose you could include anything that’s come first as well. Oh and anything and everything operatic.
It includes such memorable and inspirational lyrics as
“ Baked potato changed my life,
Baked potato showed me the way,
If you want to know what’s wrong from right,
You must listen to what potato say.
Wash your hands and stay indoors,
Thank you baked potato,
Only go to grocery stores
Thank u baked potato
if you want to have a better day
You must listen to what baked potato say
Keep your distance, leave some space,
Remember not to touch your face
Thank you baked potato
B A K E D P O T A T O
Listen to what the baked potato say. “
I’ll give you a moment or two to dry your eyes, rush to your phones and google the You Tube video. Ok, back with me? That was a sobering experience wasn’t it? Puts everything else that’s going on in the world into perspective. And for fellow bloggers, quoting lyrics is a great way to fill up space. That’s a whole page done and I haven’t really started yet.
The subject of potatoes wasn’t really a red herring or a McGuffin as we thriller writers prefer to call it. You can look that up too. It’s just that we are inundated by potatoes. They are coming out of our ears ( didn’t your mother always tell you to clean your ears or otherwise there would be potatoes growing in them… or maybe it was just my mother who had some really odd sayings and superstitions, like chewing when she was stitching a button on with needle and cotton ( something to do with shrouds ) or not picking up a dropped glove, or never passing on the stairs or throwing salt spilled on the table over one’s shoulder. Yes, I had an interesting upbringing which explains a lot…I am reliably informed my Great Grandmother was regarded as a witch in her village and I do have sort of green eyes. So be very careful of Mel’s Curse )
I am trying to steer this back to potatoes ( and no, I don’t have an obsession with them though I was panicking a bit when we were down to our last one ) That was when I ordered the fruit and veg box from supplier number one. Then again from number two and then a further box from Number One as it was so good,, And then supplier number one delivered another big box by mistake and as I told you we had to keep it as we opened it. And every one of those boxes contained potatoes of every single size, colour and personality other than baked ones. The Irish had a potato famine. We have a potato glut.
What we still don’t have is a glut of food deliveries ( other than fruit and veg ) We rely on the beneficence of friends. Naomi brought chocolate and nuts from M &S ( now those are essentials in my book ) Angela bought us some basic kosher stuff and Matt is our lifeline for groceries ( although he is buying them from Sainsburys which I should be boycotting ) There you go, Naomi, you got the mention you wanted. As for Sainsburys I tried registering again with them as a priority as a high risk individual. I really am as I have not only asthma but bronchiectasis ( scarring of my lungs ) The problem is that although my private chest physio clinic told me not to go out for 12 weeks I’ve still not had the formal letter from the NHS. The route for that is incredibly cumbersome. My GP gets asked ( I’ve spoken to them and they will confirm ) that info goes back to the NHS and then in their own good time that info goes back to the Government who issues the classification. If the goodwill shopping becomes impossible then by then we will have starved to death .
There’s a great Ray Bradbury story about a space craft taking humans to another planet for re-settlement . It goes missing and is missing for nearly a year. A rescue ship is sent and finds it eventually. They go on board and are amazed to see a woman and a baby very much alive, whilst bones float in the air around them. And then the woman points to the rescuers and says, “ Look baby, food. “
It’s not quite that desperate, but it’s a bit like “ Waiting for Godot “ and we all know that Godot never comes. Well, if you didn’t know, then you know now and I am sorry for the spoiler if you ever go to see Beckett’s play. I remember plays and the theatre . “ The Good Old Days “ We used to go at least once and sometimes twice a week. But the fact there are no new plays opening is a bit of relief. You buy tickets well in advance and then read a one star review in The Times and wonder how you can get your money back. Even before this current state of play ( there’s a pun in there somewhere ) I had a huge credit with the National Theatre and the RSC ( Royal Shakespeare Company for any non-theatre goers or foreign readers ) Now I have enough to buy the theatres which are probably available at a knock-down price. I also don’t have the stress of getting up early on the day that boking opens and logging in to priority booking and finding I am 3014th in the queue and that’s my morning gone. ( and when you get on to the site, it often crashes ) it’s a bit like trying to get a delivery slot on the Sainsburys website. I’ve even written to and emailed their CEO. I see he is resigning in June. I wonder why ?
But there are supermarkets with full shelves. ( brilliant segue/link again ) Apologies to my loyal reader Jim Hone and his wife June by the way. You remember they are the ones stuck in Thailand. I pained a grim picture of their existence, but it appears they are having a better time of it than many of us. Jim paints a picture of sunny skies, idyllic beaches, exotic cocktails and local stores with shelves fully stocked, particularly with toilet rolls. And he sends me more videos and jokes than anybody else so the etiquette of that is delayed further. He also pointed out that he was CEO of Southampton at the time they developed and sold Gareth Bale for £7m. The way the current market is in football that sounds like a brilliant deal to me.
Don’t want to dwell on toilet rolls ( certainly, nor on football as Naomi and Andrea complain) but as I’ve said I am now reading bits on non-Big V news in the papers and loved the story of the tractor carrying a huge load of toilet rolls in the States being involved in an accident and then catching fire. Can u imagine rescuers leaving the driver to his fate whilst pulling the toilet rolls to safety and shouting to the fireman not to get the loo rolls wet with their hoses? It’s like the book/film “ Whisky Galore “ revisited. That was written by Compton McKenzie as I recall and was all about a ship with a cargo of whisky being wrecked on the shores of the Scottish Highlands and the alcohol being grabbed by the locals.
So, loads left for tomorrow that I haven’t covered today. You’ve had Kafka and Beckett this week by way of culture not to mention The Baked Potato Song. Enough already. Stay well and safe and see you all tomorrow if we are spared.