The Man With The Golden Straw

With my brother Ian in possession of the motherly carer baton until 4pm today, I’ve afforded myself a few hours away from chez Strachan to write a second blog of the day. My current locale a coffee house at a local south Leeds shopping centre – My companions an iced Americano and a bottle of sparkling water.

With solar rays beaming strongly through the glass precinct roof, it feels like I’m penning this prose in a greenhouse……… Well, how I imagine journaling in a greenhouse would play out under a bright sunlit sky.

If truth be told I’ve never written in, or indeed owned a glass garden plant housing…… And even if in possession of such a structure would be reticent to intentionally subject myself to the uncomfortable heat resultant from that act. Which may lead one to inquire if that was the case, why now subject myself to such writing conditions within the glass domed shopping centre.

My response would be to simply inform the inquisitor that when I took my place at the coffee house table it’d been a thus far cloudy day. The original conditions affording a far more comfortable landscape; clouding (excuse the pun) my initial judgement this’d be good place to chronicle my observations.

If truth be told, Im currently unable to think of a topic for today’s blog sequel. Ordinarily people watching from this lofted perch on the mezzanine kick starts the creative juices, but as they stand they’re as arid as a lizards gullet.

Incidentally, I’m assuming lizards gullets are arid due to the hot environs in which they inhabit. However, bereft of any real squamate reptile knowledge, for all I know the flicking tongue critters mouths maybe a water filled as a blue whale.

That being said, I also don’t bear in-depth knowledge on how damp whales mouths are….. But, I’d venture the fact they spend most of their time underwater it’s a fairly safe assumption their gobs won’t be dry.

Not that I’m overly worried I won’t find a subject of which to pen about. As I think I’ve just proved above with my Segway into arbitrary thoughts of aridity levels of lizard and blue whale mouths something will crop up….. Something always crops up during these habitually written riffs. It may take a few minutes, but ideas with eventually manifest themselves.

As I write, like the scene in the Bond movie ‘Man With The Golden Gun ‘where the villainous Scaramanga’s solar powered laser is temporarily rendered impotent by cloud cover, the sun’s rays have just taken a hiatus behind a similar cumulus aerosol. Subsequently affording me brief respite from perspiration inducing sun rays.

Thankfully the comparisons with Roger Moore’s second Bond movie end there – And I’m not about to be tricked by a midget into a jeopardous gunfight with a trained assassin in a mirrored funhouse laden with gangster mannequins…… Well hopefully not anyhow!!

Particularly as the most potent weapon I have at my disposal is the straw sticking out of my iced Americano. An implement I’d wager would render my fight against someone with a golden bullet loaded pistol pretty inequitable.

As Lulu nearly once sang:-

“He has a powerful weapon 
He charges a million a shot 
An assassin that may end on the floor 
The man with the golden straw

Anyhow, I need to bring this to its conclusion now. I need to see what a little fella approaching me wants.

Leave a Reply