Friends and followers who are aware that I have long been Numbered Amongst the Downtrodden might like to hear of my latest misfortune and who knows, leave a conciliatory comment below this post.
painting by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
This is what happened. Accompanied by a fellow blogger who must remain nameless for reasons of anonymity and modesty, I or rather she and I, entered the Olde Timers' Dancing Competition, a sort of slowed down version of "Strictly Come Dancing." Contestants - who are not permitted to use zimmer frames or space-hoppers - must be in their xth decade where "x" is large and positive, and must enter in three categories, namely the St.Bernard Waltz(*), the stately Gavotte and to jazz things up a bit, the "Hands, Knees and Bumps-A-Mabel." This is a variant of the better known "Hands, Knees and Bumps-A-Daisy." The variant was popularised in my, I should say our youth by the Edwardian master dancing-master Sir Lancelot Simpleforth-Jinks, known as High Jinks because of untreatable B.O.
All went well until we came to the last category when our chance of ending up on the medals rostrum came crashing to the ground. She bumps-a-mabeled - which is what we had rehearsed - but I lost the place and bumps-a-daisied more vigorously than usual. My partner hissed "Do a reverse cross-buttock! It's the only way out of this mess." But too late! We also came crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and petticoats amid cries from the audience of "They're not Olde Timers! They're in their second childhoods! Disqualify! Disqualify!"
I tell you, folks, at my age life is no longer a breeze as I'm sure you'll agree. I need a drink.
(*) This lumbering 3/4 is included to give Old Dogs a chance.
It's the Mag prompt and the unfailing Tess Kincaid who puts these ideas into me head.