Trail Blazer of the Bloody Obvious

I had a crafty Cadbury’s Crème Egg this week.

The trick with those wee lads is to not take too big a bite at first. Take too big a bite at first and the thing is half gone and you’ve only one good bite left, which is nowhere near enough. No. Take a little nibble off the top first. You get all the taste without expending too much of the product. That’s my tip for today. The rest of this post is filler.

No, wait, I’m kidding. It’s not filler, it’s top notch. Just wait and see.

Although you would be hard pressed to know at this juncture, this post is not really about Crème Eggs. In fact it’s about little discoveries I’m constantly making as I progress through my lift.

Little things that astound and amaze me. Little things that make me feel so smart and intuitive for having spotted them. Little things that everybody else completely knew about all along.

This week’s ‘little thing’ was about the Cadbury’s Crème Egg I inhaled earlier in the week. (No, I can’t take my own advice either). It’s a realisation I came to. It’s just this: The inside of a Cadbury’s Crème Egg tastes the same as the outside, it’s just a different texture. There, that’s it. I was chuffed at my discovery, my own personal uncovering of the truth, and then I realised that I’d just done it again. This is just obvious. Everybody knows this, Ken. At least everybody who cares enough to have ever actively thought about it. Which, frankly, reduced the initial number by quite a bit.

I get these little false epiphanies quite regularly. Like the time I was listening to the song ‘Lovely Day’ by Bill Withers on the radio one Saturday morning when, suddenly, out of nowhere, after listening to it on literally hundreds of occasions before, a blinding light dawned. The backing singers… they are singing the words ‘Lovely Day.’ I was amazed, stunned. I had always thought they were singing something like ‘Daad-ah-new, Daad-ah-new, Daad-ay-diddle and a daad ah new….’ I mean, how wrong can a person be? I ran out to inform the world but, guess what, the world already knew all about it.

Or there was ‘Jaws.’ One of my most favourite films in the whole wide world, seen when it first came out and when I was twelve. What years-of-age was I when I finally cottoned on to the fact that the white head that scarily pops out of the hole in the boat was actually Ben Gardner, the seasoned fisherman who had appeared in earlier dockside scenes? This particular case is especially notable because literally everybody who cared a whit knew this. Hell, in the movie, they even say, “That’s Ben Gardner’s boat,” but I still had to figure it out for myself, some years later, and be pleased at how observant I was.

Of course, I understand that many of you will read this (strike that, many of you won’t read this) and say to yourselves that you knew none of these things nor cared one whit about them. That last bit is the key. I cared about these things. Chocolate and Movies and Music are three of my big obsessions. Your thing might be Sports or Crufts or, I don’t know, Antiques Roadshow or something. Imagine something obvious in your favourite genre, something everyone knew, and then imagine yours truly coming along and figuring it out and being dead chuffed about it and telling everybody who would listen all about it. That’s what I’m talking about.

Some of the things I figure out all by myself are actually surprisingly good. Like how that King on St. Stephen’s Day did not, ‘last look out’ or how the ‘Immaculate Conception’ is probably not what you think it is (go ahead, look it up).

But mostly, as we know, I’m just a silly moo. Forgetting things, getting things wrong, generally messing up.

Truth be told, I kind of like it.

It’s fun.

1 comment:

Jim Murdoch said...

Oh I am a terrible one for superficiality. Lyrics are a speciality. I hardly ever know what’s going on in fact I was listening to a Pink Floyd cover album only last week and the singer’s enunciation was just a tad clearer than either Waters or Gilmour (forget who did the original) and I remember thinking: Christ! Is that what they’ve been singing all these years? And, I mean, we’re talking about a song I must’ve listened to… I dunno, pick a huge number and I’ll see you and raise you by another fifty or a hundred times. But I’m with you: chocolate, music and films and TV and books and comics and I mean within each of those my tastes are so catholic-with-a-small-c. I know there’re people out there who stick to one genre and that’s pretty much them but that’s never going to be me. The problem is fitting everything in. I’m almost 63 and last week I listened to my first doom/death metal album EVER! And it was actually pretty decent. Actually it might’ve been melodic/doom/death metal; there’re no many subgenres! There just aren’t enough hours in the day. At the moment I’m catching up on all the prog rock albums from the seventies I couldn’t afford but drooled over and, apart from some great covers, not all of them were worth the wait. I really don’t quite get why King Crimson is as huge as it is. I had a friend who raved about Wishbone Ash and really can’t see why. At the time I thought his taste was a bit too refined for me but, nah, I don’t think it was that.

Never been a big fan of Cadbury’s Crème Eggs although I have eaten more than my fair share. Nowadays I find them—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—a tad too sweet. I, and I’m sure you do too, pine for the sweets and treats from my childhood. Here’s something I’ve noted: if you ever find yourself stuck in a room/train carriage/lift with a load of strangers here’re two topics guaranteed to ignite a conversation: 1) the sweets you can’t buy any more and 2) kids’ TV shows aren’t as good as when we were young. Never fails. What I would give for a Bandit biscuit or a packet of Old English Spangles. Or a Bar Six!