In golf, I’ve been trying to shoot 70 for years. There’s no doubt that 70 looks a lot better on a scorecard than it does on a birth certificate. I commenced the fateful day by putting my coffee percolator on the stove without any water in it! Fortunately I realised my stupidity before the whole thing ended up in a pile of molten aluminium. That, along with a few other examples of crass absent-mindedness, lead me to believe that the slippery slope is no longer a wonderfully steep, powder-covered mountainside, but one that involves a constant stream of apologies for important dates and tasks forgotten. Curiously, I did dream about powder skiing last night on some spectacularly wild and difficult slopes. It’s funny how much better I’ve got since I last skied three years ago. I find that with golf too. The longer I don’t play, the better I get……However, all is not lost. I recently attended a Grannies Cricket Club golf day at the lovely Goodwood Golf Club. It was a chance to hook up with old friends who I hadn’t seen for many a moon, one or two of whom were wearing the colourfully striped maroon club blazer. I suggested that the one that had been sitting unloved and unused in my wardrobe for decades should go to a new home. The last time I tried to put it on, I didn’t get beyond one arm. Before parting with it, I wanted to check just what size it is and was staggered to discover this morning that it fits perfectly. How I must have shrunk! It does go to prove the value of quality. It was made for me, probably forty five years ago, by Welsh and Jefferies, renowned Savile Row tailors. The blazer is almost as good as new. If I go on having nets with Ollie and generally finding the middle of the bat, I might even be tempted to start playing again, in which case the venerable garment might get another outing or two; what fun.
Back in those carefree cricketing days, when I was a footloose and fancy free bachelor with a bit of spare cash, I had a number of suits and jackets made by W&J, including a splendid Norfolk shooting jacket and plus fours. They too have been taking up hanging space for many, many years without venturing out into daylight. I’m wondering now, after the blazer shock, whether they might once again be usable? I’m enjoying delaying testing the theory for the same reason a mature person declines the biscuit today in anticipation of a full box tomorrow; a concept that my children have yet to grasp. Of course the shooting jacket will not be used for its original purpose, even if it does fit, as I have long lost the pleasure in the mass murder of low flying living objects. The shame is that as the son and heir is now 6’3″ and possibly still climbing there is no way dad’s expensive purchases will ever fit him.
As I write, I am listening to various world-renowned (apparently) gold experts talking about their favourite subject. The big question is whether there’s another Klondike gold rush around the corner; well more specifically will the price of gold finally battle it’s way out of its recent doldrums and start making me the fortune I’ve long anticipated and long been disappointed about. It all depends on inflation, interest rates, the bond market, yields and whether Oddjob is successful in nuking Fort Knox. As long as there’s Pussy Galore we needn’t worry. The general consensus is that we’ve seen a ‘double bottom’ (nothing to do with Pussy Galore) and that we can now look forward to a long steady ascent into the sunny uplands; except gold never quite works like that. It’s currently around the $1,850 per ounce mark. Some of the experts are predicting it could be at $7,000 within a few years. If you don’t own any, now’s the time to buy some it would seem, but please don’t take this as professional advice…..markets can go down as well as up, etc. However, I do have that very catchy Birley Shassey (is there a better Spoonerism?!) Goldfinger theme tune going through my head…..”He’s the man, the man with the Midas touch. A spider’s touch. Such a cold finger”. That’s me…..
ADayInTheStrifeOf 