Gertcha, Cowson

Thursday 10th May – Spent the morning power-blasting the garden patio and wall at the residence of Mrs Strachan senior. The removal of years of ground-in muck removed from flags, stone and mortar in what is a surprisingly therapeutic garden maintenance task.

As an aside, I’m getting bored of using the terms ‘residence of’, “casa Strachan’ and ‘chez Strachan’ in my narratives – As such, I nearly substituted the above wording ‘residence of Mrs Strachan senior’ with ‘Bates Motel’

My poor attempt at a simile borne from the amount of time I spend over at mater’s gaff since my dad’s passing six months ago. After much deliberation, though, it dawned on me making a comparison between my mums home to the motel in Hitchcock’s 1960 chiller Psycho was deeply flawed.

Not only am I not a serial killer akin to Norman Bates, the motels psychotic owner, but there’s no way I’d carry out a frenzied knife attack dressed in such an ill-fitting and aesthetically offensive dress.

Consequently, I omitted the simile in paragraph one. Instead utilising paragraphs two, three, four and five to explain the rationale behind my ‘omission’ of an epiphany I wasn’t enamoured about sharing.

Anyhow, back to the jet-blasting and it’s cathartic qualities…..

Whilst removing the grime from mater’s jardin masonry, my capricious neurological corridors received an idea so unexpected I…… erm….. didn’t expect it. The surprise guest an awe inspiring epiphany of how similar the name of jet cleaner manufacturer Karcher*** was to the title of the Chas & Dave song Gerchta.

*** Karcher – the name of the manufacturers appliance I was utilising….. Other pressure cleaning products are available but they don’t rhyme with the Gertcha, so I’m unable to link them effectively in this monologue.


After this ‘light bulb’ moment, I made it my mission to use my creative wherewithal to incorporate the cockney duo’s 1979 toe-tapper somewhere within today’s blog. A refrain with roots in the 20th century London pub tradition – Standing around the old Joanna ‘aving a knees-up. The melody a latter-day Boiled Beef & Carrots, or it’s dysfunctional cockney cousin that told of their stockings being hung on the Siegfried Line.

Admittedly, there’s little other than rhyming that links the German family run cleaning appliance company and the Chas & Dave tune which manifests aspirations of being a Pearly King for a day.

Fate’s a mercurial mistress. If I’d have used a Bosch AQT 40-13 to clean my mater’s flagstones and retaining wall, the song Posh may have been this morning’s unexpected play on my cranial jukebox.

Posh the chirpy song from the musical Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang – A tune where a furry faced cockney geezer pragmatically sings his way through his abduction by airship. As opposed to Gertcha, which is an upbeat refrain by two furry-faced cockneys who’ll have been relieved they hadn’t the distraction of being snatched by zeppelin mid-song.

Anyway, it wasn’t a Bosch, the Karcher my companion when cleansing the masonry……… All together now…….

When me rock and roll records wake him up
When the Poles knocked England out the cup
When the kids are banging on his door
When the barman won’t serve him any more

Gertcha, cowson…………..

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