Opening time for honeysuckle.
An elderly neighbour whom I don't know very well smiles at me as she passes. "Is it Mr Johnson from across the road?" she asks. I am at first not sure to whom she is referring and then I realise that she thinks that I may be Mr Johnson. "I'm not Mr Johnson, " I say. As she draws close she apologises screwing up her eyes. "The sun was in my eyes", she says.
Ready made jokes in crackers, in the rear windows of cars in the form of graffiti on lavatory walls on greetings cards are always suspect it seems to me, like ready meals or take-away pizzas. But they nevertheless have a culture of their own, which perhaps should be observed as an expression of a national humour. Behind the bar at The Crown in Groombridge a notice reads "Eat less, don't drink, die anyway."
2 comments:
It may be salutary, the next time you meet Mr Johnson, to check which of you comes off the better in this case of mistaken identity.
There seems to be a distinction between these labels. Some may be mere soundbites though nevertheless witty, others may enfold a philosophical concept within their wit. I don't have the intellectual wherewithal to pursue this any further. However the label you quote certainly belongs to the latter category and its impact is reinforced by being in a pub. As I say, just too complex.
Perhaps someone should make a study of the subject. A learned paper.
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