Chain Gang -Part Deux 'Who is Stephen Hawking?"'

What a great Chain gang last night!; no point me going into it in any detail as it will no doubt be excellently reported by Neil; in his usual style - a mix of caustic, Wilde wit with the playful, avant-garde and anarchic style of a modern day Joyce  (did I get that right, Neil?).  Having said that, I would just like to emphasis that this was a totally different scenario from last week's fiasco ( and yes, I put the 'eff' in fiasco as well as the 'c'! - carbolic leaves a very nasty aftertaste. ) However,I was very humbled by Simon's magnanimity - he even complemented me on last week's ramblings (otherwise known as Chain Gang - Part Deux.) I really must buy him a Cinzano on the last CG of the season - or, maybe he would prefer a beer?

Anyway, after the thrill of the outward leg, I attempted another 'blast' with the 'Wannabee / Fasts' (not wishing to offend Neil  I have combined our arbitrarily chosen 'group names' into one - is that better?) on the way back, but decided I had 'shot my bolt' - so decided I would revert to 'chugging'.  Luckily, Stuart had just announced that he was also struggling and so accepted, with some reluctance, my kind offer to 'chug' along with me.

The thing about Stuart is that he cannot resist 'the chase'.  This he has in common with our feisty dog 'Poppy'; who also, cannot resist chasing anything that moves.  This includes: low-flying Chinooks (her favourite - I think the beach at Normans Bay is on the flight path), tumble-weed (her least favourite - as it always leads to bitter disappointment) and seagulls. He had spotted a red light up ahead and declared:"That's irresistible - let's get after them!". We 'upped' our cadence and set off in pursuit. At the junction with The C.B.H I realised who it was: "That's Col. Parker", I said.  We pulled along side and offered our wheel. "It's O.K , thanks, I like to do my own thing these days". We said our "Good nights"  and headed off on our own again.  Shortly after this Stuart announced - with much alarm: "I've lost my 'Ass-Saver', I'll have to turn off at South Cliff to look for it".  A likely story!; bearing in mind that Stuart is a plumber and would only have to change a couple of washers in the morning to pay for a gross of 'Ass-Savers'!". No,  most likely he didn't want to risk cross-contamination by pulling up to the lights with a 'chugger'.

On my own again, I stopped to adjust my gusset and sneaked a look behind me.  That was when everything started to make sense!.  Why was Chris always cycling on his own?, why did he only show up when the sky was clear.  He was a small figure under a large sky, but I spotted a shiny instrument in his hand - there was no doubt about it , it was a brass eye-glass.  Our eyes met across a large distance, but I could tell he knew I had seen it.  He collapsed it back into itself using the heel of his hand.  I was sure now: he was making a few final checks before releasing - finally, his major work entitled "A Brief History of Time (Trialing) and The (Correct) Theory of Everything - by Col. C J Parker" ( I have recommended to Chris that he adds the ' J' , for gravitas - well it worked for Elvis Presley's manager!) .  Using T.T statistics collected over many years, combined with the Red and Blue Shift Modelling Theory, he was about to turn the world of Cosmology upside down. He was going to prove, beyond reasonable doubt that the Universe was neither contracting  nor expanding, as previously thought, but was merely leaning a bit to the left.  It was only a (brief) matter of time before Hawkin would be considered as just another 'flat-earther'. I do think that despite all the fame and fortune headed Chris's way, I would like to buy him a Cinzano, also, at the last CG, for the the hard work he does for the club - a true 'unsung hero'.

I continued along Cooden Drive and was pleased to see that the others had not yet 'shut up shop for the night'.  I pulled along-side the assembled group and looked behind to see if anyone was following me?. Appearing out of the gloom and into the light of the street lamp I could just make out Peter Baker, in full Bedouin headgear, looking every inch the young Peter O'toole!

One of the best things about Wednesday evening is the ride back to Normans Bay with Neil, and quite often, also accompanied by Tom and Stuart.  Tonight it was just Neil and I.  While ambling along Capt. Mainwaring Drive (see 2 blogs ago) we basked in the 'after-glow' of our shared physical experience - this was the metaphorical  'sharing of the cigarette' (talking about cycling here).

Me: "How was I then?",
Neil: "You were amazing!",
Me: "Cheers, you weren't so bad yourself!",
Neil: "Cheers"
(the above relates to cycling)

We ambled our way along, and as Neil mentioned, we got onto the subject of 'Gironimo' - which is without doubt the funniest book I have read in ages (Tim Moore should be knighted immediately for writing such a funny book.)  However, Neil forgot to issue the warning with regard to reading this book that we had discussed.  At several points whilst reading this book, you will find yourself laying on your back, socks off and trying to keep your spleen from tumbling out.  Your wife/partner/mum will ask "What's so funny, then?" . At all costs, resist from reading aloud an extract - it will only meet with derision, better to just respond with a simple "You wouldn't find it funny".  I have known for a long time that when it comes to humour, women come from the second rock from the sun , we are from the fourth.  Let's face it they don't even find farting funny - how weird is that?!"  let me demonstrate with a joke:

1st man: "Would you ever fart in front of your wife?"
2nd man: "Certainly not! - I would definitely let her take her turn"

This is a 'corker' of a joke as I'm sure most men would agree, however, I guarantee if you tell it to your wife/partner/mum they will just give you a pitiful look.

Peter Buss