Words from a Bird. Day 65
Last night I headed off to Bourne End, collecting my mother en route. We were off to meet my sister and my aunt at The Bourne End Community Centre for our monthly attempt at utilizing the fluff between our ears. Now this is no ordinary pub quiz. There are people there who probably turned down Mensa as they were looking for more of a challenge. Their knowledge is so extensive, that I wonder how they fit normal life in around all the reading and swotting they do. Oh, but of course, they don't...Life is just one big series of Pointless with a couple of episodes of QI thrown in to give them a more human touch.
Historically, my aunt had done spectacularly badly before the rest of us started tagging along. She had a personal best of 6th overall, which although sounding impressive, counts for diddly when I tell you that there were only 6 teams on that particular night. Her PB wasn't so much a Personal Best, more a Pathetic Bottom.
Anyway, since the four of us started competing together, we have crept up the score board, slowly and surely, managing to grab three podium spots over the last year. Surprisingly, one of these was a 1st place. We chose the right month to win as it was Easter and as well as a cash prize (loose change only, nothing foldable) there was also chocolate.
In all the times we had been going up till then, one team seemed to regularly take all the silverware (20p/10p/5p...) and it was with much smugness and pride that we trounced them. Not sure that they have ever forgiven us though, as they never turned up again after that one glorious night.
Over the months, there have been occasions when my sister and I have glanced at each other across the table with absolute despair at the two older members of the team. Last night was no exception. In the 'Spot the Dog' picture round, we had to name 32 different dogs from film and TV fame. With one left unnamed (impressive eh?) I was battling with my aunt's magnifying glass trying to get some kind of light bulb moment. It's funny how your mind works. This dog had a boater and a bow tie, so for some reason I had him down as a tap dancing, Yankee southerner of a dog. Then the aunt poked the picture of the dog a couple of times with her finger. 'Is it Baloo?' she asked. So my first comment was that this DOG was blue, whereas I clearly remember Baloo being grey. The second was that Baloo was a bloody BEAR not a dog. This seemed not to matter one jot to her - either she wasn't taking it too seriously, or we needed a larger, stronger magnifying glass.
There have been several times when pictures of long haired male pop stars have confused my mum (never difficult). I remember one fantastic evening when she was convinced that Morten Harket of Aha fame was Kim Wilde ('that's definitely her.....I loved her dad. What was that song of his we liked?') and that Steve Tyler (the chap that has an ear to ear Joker smile) was 'that dark haired woman out of Bananarama'. It's an education, I can tell you...
Well, we finished 4th last night, a respectable position considering there were eight teams. Plenty of scope to climb higher next month.
Oh, and in case you're wondering who the elusive blue dog was....
It was Huckleberry Hound......I expect you'll sleep sounder tonight knowing that.