Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the tag “Scooby Doo”

Getting Over the Brexit Blues

Apologies for going quiet. I have written eight or nine blogs in the last two weeks. Topics have included the disappearance of the magnificent AiryFairyCupcake on School Lane – why? Was it something we didn’t say? Its replacement by a Babyscanner is genius. The nearest is in Old Trafford and if we know one accessory always popular in M20 it’s a baby. We were offered one so early in the Twins’ development they would have still liked like dust under the carpet and my advice is be careful, at 20 weeks they still look like an outtake from Alien. 

I also wrote about the Viz gonad sign coming down in the village, the replacement of summer with a repeating week from Autumn and the trials of coordinating family, work, health and the European Championships. Boris Johnson’s post Brexit strategy document was less than impressive.

None has made it past notes. Each has turned into a self-pitying rant and call to arms for the soul of the nation split by the ridiculous Etonian argument. Since we voted to leave Europe (when I say “we” I mean the whole herd, not our bit grazing happily on focaccia obviously) I have moped, railed, cried, feared and read a lot of clever articles that would have been brilliant a week earlier. Had these tremendous minds talked in advance rather than pointing and saying “Told you so” afterwards it may have been different. They remind me of the Donald Trump & Nigel F*rage memes that have filled social media over the last year. Whilst we’ve chuckled and “liked” their crassness and the ease of satirising them, they have both hoovered up votes and influence. They talked to people too easily dismissed.

I’m sure some people voted “no” with positive intentions and I hope I’m wrong. I’m fairly used to being in the minority. BUT for those thinking this will re-invigorate the job market and bring wages, standards and vitality up – you must be too young to remember 79-97 and why New Labour and their domestic policies were met with such gusto. I’m digging out my Redskins records and preparing to find happiness in different ways. 

Revised post-vote integrated transport system for Manchester

Have a look at his Jonathan Pye video – says it better than I ever could. 

So as a Didsbury Dad so far past 39 that when I first heard about “Thatcher the milk snatcher” I thought it was a new character on Scooby Doo, this much I know.

1. Democracy is vital and I believe in it and will know longer use terms like bellend or mispronounce Jeremy Hunt when talking to people who voted “Brexit”, even those who thought it was “Brisket” and they were voting for a decent meat sandwich.

2. Over a decade as a Didsbury Dad has taught me that 90% of what I say is ignored, 5% is misunderstood and 5% is disputed. But at least I can add up. 

3. I feel personally responsible for the demise of TheAiryFairy Cupcake shop. When we moved house I gave up cupcakes – but sadly took up the pistachio biscuits and pain au raisins from Bisou Bisou

 4. I miss Cafe Rouge. It was originally a pre-work tryst location when I first met Didsbury Wife and we evolved with it into toddler-haven in its latter days. Bring it back.

Britishcakes

5. The bar menu at Chalk is so much better than you think it will be. 
6. Falling out over politics is a waste of time, we have to work together. However, if there’s someone you’ve been trying to ditch them this is the perfect moment to take offence at their “I’m not racist but…” Comment.
7. When I found out that the Tories had won in 92 I marched, angsted and made false promises. In 2015 when we found out it was over at 10.01pm I had an early night. On 24th June I swore loudly, was genuinely shocked and had to go and get milk. The world may be falling apart but my little enclave still has to have its routine. 

 Didsbury Son walks M20’s green and pleasant land – it is only that green because the weather’s been crap. 

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Timmy Time, Ziggy Marley and the power of CBeebies

What do you call a parent who never uses TV as a filler whilst taking 5 to make a brew, go for a wee or  count lines and grey hairs?
You don’t.
They are either lying or they are the kind of uber-organised automaton that can do Year 7 maths homework without flinching and has never popped a dummy in their mouth to clean it. (Sshh, that’s just between us. )

Didsbury Son is hooked on Cartoon Network and Adventure Time, the Adventures of Gumball and The Regular Show. I silently pine for the times we would curl up to watch The Simpsons. I snipe at the cartoons whilst secretly enjoying their absurdist dreamlike core.

What Timmy might look like if he was real

What Timmy might look like if he was real

I was influenced by Scooby Doo, a scared Great Dane who ate processed garbage fed to him by his stoned owner. They held long conversations and the stoner dressed poor Scooby in a range of inappropriate outfits and put him in danger. I believe my love of Scooby and his deformed nephew Scrappy negates any option I may have to pass comment on Didsbury Son’s mesmeric viewing. He has inherited the male gene to stare endlessly, without judgement at anything animated or non-educational. Take a bow men, Lord Reith, I blame you for not inventing Ren & Stimpy earlier.

This staring gene is universal. The twins love a bit of CBeeBies. They may only be 5 months old but Smiley girl chuckles along to the odd programme whilst preferring staring at the light out of the window and The Mighty-Headed boy (60% head, 100% Didsbury) can zone out for a good half hour (  the baby equivalent of a whole day spent in bed watching Big Bang Theory or Lovejoy).

I am concerned. CBeeBies projects a world which worries me on many fronts. Take Mike The Knight, he is an idiot. On the one hand he always realises he has been a fool and that the dragons/trolls/his sister/anything else was right. On the other, his portrayal of feudal patronage, animal cruelty and a male-dominated society where women merely cook and clean is one that gives my baby boy false expectations; and the voice is so annoying I pray the dragons will get fed up and eat him.

CBeebies documentary about swans held in prison without trial in Cheshire really struck a chord

CBeebies documentary about swans held in prison without trial in Cheshire really struck a chord

Postman Pat has to be 80. I know the post office has made cuts but surely someone should relieve him. It’s the saddest documentary I have ever seen. His only companion is a stuffed cat he thinks is real and the sap in the local train station keeps giving him work, he keeps getting it wrong. Richard Branson, Adam Crozier – sort out your staff.
Where is Tilly’s parent/guardian? She hangs out with an elephant, a pig, a chicken and a crocodile. Where do Child Services think they are up to? If the elephant doesn’t crush her then pain awaits. This is not Life of Pi. and she is only six years old. The pig and chicken are gonners. RIP Porky and Licken but please, someone – save her. Pingu. You make Iggle Piggle seem like Stephen Fry.
These are the tip of a very tall iceberg. The Octonauts flout the Laws of Physics and Bernard Cribbins thinks he is called Jack and talks to a glove. At times it is heartbreaking.
There is a saving grace. A very beautiful saving grace, Timmy. Timmy is a little lamb with a lot inside and I, smiley baby girl and deep thinking baby boy love him. Even Didsbury Son loves Timmy and Didsbury Wife and I have given up Moussaka. Timmy is the son of Shaun the Sheep. I’m not sure who his mother is but I don’t think it’s the one who tried to kill Shaun for having the wrong trousers. Timmy is a ram amongst lambs, an organic fillet amid horsemeat fillings, a Babe the pig sheep in the farmyard. Timmy and his little friends have innocent fun and wipe away the sour taste that the rudderless Tilly and the tiresome Mike the Knight leave in the mouths of my innocent babies.

Timmy, It's Timmy. He's a little lamb with a lot inside - but not served with tzatziki in this house

Timmy, It’s Timmy. He’s a little lamb with a lot inside – but not served with tzatziki in this house

Thomas, stay in your train garage – you are not welcome here. This house dances to the rhythm of Rastamouse, 3rd and Bird (particularly the Ziggy Marley episode) and the glorious Timmy Time.

 

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