Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Sorry
A typical morning in the Wilcock-Flowers-Dome household; all is quiet and still save my post-nocturnal groans and sneezes, the hissing of the shower and the intellectual strains of the Today Programme (“And now, a skateboarding duck”).
Suddenly the most dreaded words known to the morning are heard – even worse than “Jack Straw after eight o’clock” – that “it’s time for Thought For the Day with Anne Atkins”. Adrenalin gives me instant energy (note to ed: can we get that effect from The Six Million-Dollar Man here?) and within seconds the radio is off and a CD is spinning. Yes, I always think it should be The Imperial March, but Madonna was on one of the piles to hand and “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know… I heard it all before and I can’t take it any more” seemed appropriate to crank up loud to drown out the brain-dead bigot emanating from the bathroom, where my shower-trapped beloved was unable to reach out and stop her.
Urrggghhh. Adrenalin worn off now, and reaching for a Lemsip in lieu of a bottle of healthy Vitex (TM).
I wonder if our neighbours have spotted the pattern? “They’re normally quite considerate about noise – loud music at ten to eight? It must be another Anne Atkins morning.”
I look forward to the day when intelligent design of radio / music players can automatically switch at the words ‘Thought For the Day’ to a suitably satirical alternative tune.
Perhaps they could do it with the sports news too.
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Suddenly the most dreaded words known to the morning are heard – even worse than “Jack Straw after eight o’clock” – that “it’s time for Thought For the Day with Anne Atkins”. Adrenalin gives me instant energy (note to ed: can we get that effect from The Six Million-Dollar Man here?) and within seconds the radio is off and a CD is spinning. Yes, I always think it should be The Imperial March, but Madonna was on one of the piles to hand and “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know… I heard it all before and I can’t take it any more” seemed appropriate to crank up loud to drown out the brain-dead bigot emanating from the bathroom, where my shower-trapped beloved was unable to reach out and stop her.
Urrggghhh. Adrenalin worn off now, and reaching for a Lemsip in lieu of a bottle of healthy Vitex (TM).
I wonder if our neighbours have spotted the pattern? “They’re normally quite considerate about noise – loud music at ten to eight? It must be another Anne Atkins morning.”
I look forward to the day when intelligent design of radio / music players can automatically switch at the words ‘Thought For the Day’ to a suitably satirical alternative tune.
Perhaps they could do it with the sports news too.
