Monday, 29 June 2015

A Portrait of the Victor as a Young Man

There are times in life when, for no apparent reason, one's thoughts go back to the past and we reminisce from one story to another, from one person to another and so on go our thoughts almost with no control. This happened to me the other day as I sat by the fish pond in our back garden sipping a beer, and I saw a frog jump out of the bushes.

For some reason, that small creature reminded me of my first girl-friend all those years ago. Her name was Melba. I can't imagine what possessed her parents to give her that name; especially since her surname was Pye.

Anyway, Melba came to mind and I remember our first date when I took her to a French restaurant. She had frogs' legs; but the rest of her body was OK I suppose.

I had an open topped car at the time. A sporty looking little number. And I recalled how her hair used to blow in the wind as I sped up the highway. Then I had to stop and collect it for her.

She had a pleasant personality, rather quiet, and a little shy. I suppose it's because she was a little rotund and she considered herself overweight - a bit like her mother. I remember well the first day I met Melba's Mom. There was a solar eclipse that day.

They say if you want to know how your wife will turn out in years to come, just look at her mother. Well, Melba and her Mom were very large, to say the truth; but I wondered whether Melba will have a moustache too when she gets older.

Melba's father was often unemployed; although some would say he was unemployable. He sat at home watching TV and expected his wife to do all the work and feed him. He was so lazy that if he ever fainted he'd need someone to help him fall to the ground.

He once worked digging trenches on the road as part of a team so that engineers could lay in pipes, cables and so on. One day the team arrived and realised they had no tools with them. Melba's father phoned the depot and said they had forgotten to bring their shovels with them. The manager replied: "Never mind. Lean on each other in the meantime!"

Melba's parents lived in a small house on the poor side of town. I recall the house was so small that the mice were hunch-backed. And it was a cold and damp house too. So damp there was a permanent rainbow in the kitchen.

Melba's brother, Ivor was a right eighteen years old ruffian who hang out with the wrong crowd. He was always up to trouble and to be fair to him, until his late teens, he never knew what it felt like to be wanted. Until one day he saw his picture on the Police Notice Board.

He was arrested with another hooligan friend and taken to Court for riding a bicycle without any lights on at night. In his defence, he said the bicycle had no lights on when he stole it.

When the two lads appeared in Court the Judge looked at them knowingly, almost recognising them. He asked: "Have you two ever been up before me?"

"I don't know," answered Ivor, "what time do you get up?"

The Judge banged his gavel and asked Ivor's friend: "What's your address?"

The lad answered "I've no fixed abode."

He then asked Ivor: "And what's your address?"

Ivor responded "In the apartment above him!"

The Judge asked the boys whether they wanted to be tried by him; or by a jury. They did not know the difference. So the Judge explained: "A jury is a group of twelve people made up of your own peers. They are people like you!"

"No way mate," cried Ivor, "we don't want to be tried by a dozen thieves!"
The two boys had a good solicitor who managed to convince the Court, despite all evidence to the contrary,  that they had not stolen the bicycle.

As they were leaving Court Ivor asked the Judge "Does this mean we can keep the bicycle?"

As I sat there reminiscing about the past I wondered whatever happened to Melba. Our relationship did not last long; especially when she decided to become a wrestler and changed her name to Ten Ton Pye.

My last memory of her was seeing her wrestle at the local Arena wearing a green leotard suit which clung tightly to her every contour. She hopped from one end of the ring to another like a demented acrobat.

At that point, the frog jumped forward into the fish pond and awoke me from my reverie.


  1. "He was arrested with another hooligan friend and taken to Court for riding a bicycle without any lights on at night. In his defense, he said the bicycle had no lights on when he stole it." There is always at least one part of your tales that strike me as very funny...this is todays!!! Thank you for bringing me smiles today!! Wishing you well!

    1. I'm always glad to make you smile Cathy. Thank you for visiting me.

      God bless.

  2. Oh, are too much!
    Your first paragraph had me believing this was going to be a sentimental read.
    Frog legs - ha! :o)

    1. You should have seen her hop over the table to reach for the dessert dishes, Hand-Maid.

      God bless you.

  3. Frog legs? It must have been a leap of faith to date her. At least afterwards you didn't have a frog in your throat. *giggle* ~:)

    1. That's brilliant Sparky. You should help me write these posts. Sometimes I'm at a loss for puns.

      God bless you.

  4. Do you ever do stand up comedy , Victor? You should! I will pray Melbs does not read this and decide to tie your legs in a knot !
    Blessings !

    1. Hi Lulu,

      Years ago I used to be a member of various "entertainment groups". I used to write comedy sketches which others performed with me. Also, some members of the group(s) used to sing opera, modern pop songs, play the piano and so on. We used to perform for charity in many venues and churches. I used to compare the show, tell jokes and introduce the various acts. I also wrote a number of plays (wish I had the scripts !!!)

      We raised funds for various charities - e.g. to maintain/fix the church bells, for the Bishop Maintenance Fund (because he was falling apart poor chap) and we also performed in old peoples' homes to entertain the elderly.

      Later I had various radio shows. A religious one called "Time for Reflections" - hence this Blog's title. Various music and chat shows and of course comedy shows which included sketches I wrote.

      God bless you Lulu.

  5. Hi Victor! (Love the image of you as a Young Man!) Poor Melba. But then again, I guess she found her niche, using those frog legs to leap into fame!

    If you can see what your girlfriend looks like in her mother, can you see what a boyfriend looks like in his father? I wonder, do you look like your Dad?

    Loved the line about the hunch-backed mice. That was a small house indeed! Thanks for the smiles today my friend, you never disappoint :)

    1. That's a good question Ceil. I don't look like my dad in as much as I have a beard and he was always clean shaven and smart. I am a bit of a scruf. My father would never have worn jeans and T shirts, for instance.

      I am like him though as far as standards of up-bringing and strong religious beliefs. My parents were a great example to us.

      God bless you and yours, Ceil. So glad I made you smile. Another humourous story tomorrow.

  6. Victor #1, while reading this story, "I" couldn't help but think about Bruce Jen her, "I" mean... YA better keep praying for Victor cause he's also biking, "I" mean biting off more that his Jesus can choo and.................................................................and............................................................and..

    END YA SAY sinner vic/?... DON'T BE LIKE THAT! BE NICE NOW!

    Go Figure!

    God Bless

    1. Great to see you visiting me again. Sadly, I am not on Facebook. Found it too difficult to manage.

      God bless.



God bless you.

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