I'm not complaining. I love opening a book and finding a random picture of a complete stranger, particularly when they have a cigarette hanging out of their mouth and are sitting on a ridiculously small horse:
The small animals theme continues with this lady in a rather festive hat:
I have no idea who these gentlemen are; they have a dark, Celtic look about them. As for their regalia, I wonder if it is Masonic - are these the famous aprons?
To return to the small animals theme...
The man is the spitting image of my great-uncle, Jack. He had a very strong Kentish accent and always sounded as if he had part of a Chelsea bun in his mouth. He made roll-ups with a little machine and once lit, he would puff away and slowly regale us with anecdotes that were, in hindsight, mind-numbingly dull.But because I was only a child and he had the poise and confidence of a great raconteur, I assumed that my failure to find Uncle Jack interesting was a mark of my immaturity.
The bridegroom reminds me of a very advanced humanoid life-form in the 1950s science fiction film This Island Earth. With a forehead like that, he must have a very big brain, so I can only asume that his anecdotes were more interesting than my Uncle Jack's.
7 comments:
The regalia looks suspiciously like the stuff my idiot brother-in-law would wear to one of his secret 'get togethers'.
As for your uncle Jack, my brother and I had a conversation last Christmas, at the end of which, we both agreed, we are now the boring old farts we did our level best to avoid when we were young. I must brush up on my repertoire.
It's awful isn't it. The other day I realised that I am now behaving just like my father, making lame jokes that make my son squirm with embarrassment.
I wouldn't worry about that - it's in the job description for fathers. You HAVE to make awful puns, tell bad jokes and embarrass your children (and your wife). It's the law.
The gentlemen are not Freemasons, but rather members of the Royal Antediluvian Order of Buffaloes.
The fellow on the right holds the 3rd degree, Knight Order of Merit, and the others with aprons are 2nd degree, Certified Primo.
The Buffaloes are supposed to have begun as a fraternal society of stage hands.
Good heaves! A Royal Order of Buffaloes? I didn't know such a thing even existed. The only "buffalo group" I'd ever heard of was the Buffalo Squadron of the Royal Canadian Air Force during WWII.
Canadian Chickadee
One possible explanation for all those photographs found in books:
When travelling alone, I make a point of using photos of loved ones as bookmarks. This is especially true when I fly. Should disaster strike, I'd much rather my last moments be spent looking at a snapshot of my wife and child than, say, an author photo of Robertson Davies.
Not that he wasn't a handsome man.
Indeed, he was a fine figure of a man.
Post a Comment