Suddenly, with Welder's Grace, It's Saturday

As soon as I awoke this morning I vowed that the first thing I would do is write an entry for this blog today. Well. as it turned out I was wrong, it wasn't the first thing. So, as I sat there wondering who has been using my hair care products and wondering if I should re-model the shower in the style of a gypsy fortune teller's tent, I searched for a title.

It had to be something, pithy, brief and in tune with what I wanted to write about.

Around about this point, I realised that it was early and my brain wasn't quite firing on all cylinders. There I was, getting full value for money for my water taxes and on a quest for a title, when I hadn't a clue what I was going to write about.

Disaster struck soon after. I'd washed my hands very carefully, adjusted my dress (See Note 1) and, at the third attempt, disposed of the earlier business. I was drying my hands and trying to decide if I liked the new fabric softener used on the towels when 'it' hit me.

By 'it', I mean the title. "Suddenly, with welder's grace, it's Saturday".

Looking at 'it' on the page like that just doesn't do justice to the arrival.

In my mind, without warning, the bouncy puppies and the woman of the Fabric Softener ad faded to black (See Note 2)....

In the far distance, cones of light from a pair of headlights pierce through the dark and the drizzle. With full Dolby Suround-sound, the theme to Dick Barton, Secret Agent starts to drive the BBC Light Orchestra to a frenzy. (See Note 3).

A second pair of headlights appeared, weaving behind the first. My minds eye panned in closer along a winding country road across a moor. Two black, 1950's cars fought for position on the tarmac as a gravelly voice over man cut in over the soundtrack.

"Previously, our hero, Chief Inspector McCrindle Barleymow Honeydew-Fforbes of New Scotland Yard, had retrieved the truss of Arabian Prince Abdullah El-Ghianni from the gang of international greetings card counterfieters in their hideout in a small toffee refinery just outside York.

"As he started his race against time to get the prized artifact back to London before the start of the International Summit on the Manila envelope trade, he realised that he was being followed..."

A hand clutching a World War II service revolver appears from the passenger side of the following sudan . Three shots are fired. The minds eye focuses on the Good Inspector, his battered trilby hat pulled down over his eyes, hunches over his steering wheel and presses the accelerator to the floor.

The scene cuts from the moor and to a crowded, smoky basement, somewhere in Lambeth and the title scrolls in "Suddenly, with welder's grace, it's Saturday."

Then nothing.

Distracted by the cat trying to climb my left leg to check out the Amsterdam coffee shop scents of the fabric softener for herself, the imagination switches off.

I'm left with a title, a damned good title, but nothing to write about.

I'm really sorry everybody everyone, but there will be no blog entry today. You will just have to content yourself with trying to work out the synaptic link between the title and the picture. (See Note 4 if you need further clues).

Note 1 : This is dress as in my clothing not dress as in female fashion apparel. At the weekend a dress is strictly evening wear.

Note 2 : I never have understood why all of the women in adverts for laundry products look so happy doing laundry. At best it is a boring task, repetitive task and how the woman can then burst into laughter when some dirty a***d puppy climbs into the washing basket full of her clean washing is beyond me.

Note 3 : It was at this point I was going to try and do something really clever like embed the tune into the blog entry so that it plays automatically when you open the blog, but I decided that against it. If you want to hear it, then it is here.

I do this as a separate link because I am very aware of the embarrassment caused when web pages open up sound automatically. The other day, I was seeking out sources for the blog I wrote yesterday and I opened the The Lone Ranger link in a busy office without first turning down the sound. Yes, people did look. Oh, and another reason was I wasn't sure how to embed the file.

Note 4 : Imagine my disappointment at discovering the total lack of originality of the title. There I was doing a few Google searches and up that popped. OK, so it brought back memories and stirrings when I thought of Jennifer Beals.