Mike1938

Patricia first met me at the Ilkley dance. It was February 1957… and there was I believing that I had met her. This confusion came about from our quite separate understandings that each of us was the centre of the universe. I realise now that we must have met each other but it took both of us almost a lifetime for the realisation to dawn upon us. If that sort of thing happened to two Olicanian innocents who had both experienced the ‘seen and not heard’ upbringings of the 40s and 50s, there’ll be a lot more fun to be had by our modern counterparts in the ‘me’ millennium. I felt special when Patricia conspired with me in the ‘Challenge of the Five Steps’ by allowing me to do several dances with her that evening. Patricia was called Pat then and she stayed that way for several decades. She was 16 years old, and I was 18, but she told me afterwards that she thought that I seemed older. Either my wit and charm had finally woven their magic spell that evening… or she was being very patient with me. I was allowed to present my full CV (albeit that it had to be delivered in several discrete sections) and, although I had no way of knowing it at the time, I was being sized up for the last waltz. I spun her off her feet in a dazzling display of the quickstep, I admired her hair, and tried to impress her with my prospects of becoming the world’s first gangly-morph Chartered Engineer. I had dared to hope that the world might become my oyster in those early days, but shellfish would later prove to be allergic to me. Puffing up my puny pectorals like a preening pigeon, I regaled Patricia with tales of my Grand Tour of Europe. She had never been further than Skegness at that time, but the tide was out when she arrived and, as it had been sunny, she thought that she had been to Libya. For me, it was love at first sight (yet again!) but this time the love was to last longer than its usual fortnight. She did allow me to escort her home and I discovered that Nat King Cole was right when he enthused about the joys of “Walking his baby back home”. However this particular walking was to prove to be a treat for me in a way that even he hadn’t appreciated… She lived less than five minutes walk from the dance hall!.. There's ( lots) more should you be interested

Yes. I believe all books should be rewritten regularly - at least once per day. As the capacity of computers has increased exponentially since the time of Charles Babbage it should now be feasible for each of the world's 8 billion, or so, consumers to have its/their/her/his own unique copy of any book, or other medium, which reflects, sensitively, its/their/her/his own beliefs, needs, issues & values in this, our braver newer world. Perhaps the 'original' copy of each might be retained & accessible, whence the less sensitive in our midst could still marvel at the perceptions of the observers of times past, whilst we continue our quest for a more braverer & newerer world than we have ever known, like. With no offence meant to Shakespeare, Babbage, Dickens, Huxley or nobody who doesn't feel included. Ah mean, like, y'know worra mean, like...