Millom in the Dock by Frankie Lassut Read Free Book Online

They
wouldn’t be seen dead with a jar of kite on their living room
windowsill, not even if it were obscured by the light reflecting
talent of a net curtain. Our gang’s cassette recorder had a jar of
the stuff in full view; the middles hid their kite under a floral
tapestry silk blanket. So that was it, Nellie Irwin, MY Gran, the
labeller of the town’s energy supply. Get your refillable jar or
barrel of Shaw Kite from Ferguson’s!
    Back to the
bowls then M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader …
we, Gary Maggs (sometimes Mouse) and I, realised then what the
trench around the hills was for. It was to stop ‘our’ bowls
speeding off the side of the green and onto the road, therefore
stopping a grisly accident should the local rag and bone cart,
pulled by the local horse, Peg (on a bit of a side earner), come
trundling by.
    Cars?! What?
Come on! This is a small Northern town back in the days of Slade
and forgotten by God. Someone local had just invented the pushbike
but, no one had the heart to tell him the bad news about the age
old Starley technology from Coventry. He later moved to London and
invented the clockwork radio but, only because he thought that
London was like the North therefore, batteries, unknown to his
conscious mind, were still a concept, existing in another realm …
awaiting their cue … ‘necessity’.
    That’s the end
of my care in the community through relaxing activities provided by
the Council M’lud.
     

     
     
    Bananas an
orange and a bow ... seem to stop the tin beast getting
wrathful.
     
    This M’lud is
the usual effect a car has on a local, may I pass it round the jury
M’lud?
    M’lud: “Of
course Mr Lassut, it’s amazing! Well, Mr Lassut, what a very
extraordinarily interesting way of taking part in a game of bowls
and, how nice to see such good positive interaction between the
aged, crusty, dusty, squeaky shoed mob themselves and the younger
socially conditioned generation. How nice also of your Gran Nellie
to have named the lower common classes lighting and cassette player
fuel supply. I’ve played bowls myself but, only ever on the normal
surface, I must visit Millom and try my hand”.
    Just you watch
out for relatives of that composer Elgar M’lud.
    “I will Mr
Lassut. Well now everyone, it is 14.30, Court will recess for one
hour, back at 15.30, I’m famished”.
    “All rise for
M’lud!”
     
    ***
     
    Monday
15.30
    Court Clerks …
in perfect unison (still drunk from the night before?) …
    “All rise for
M’lud! (Hic)”
    He sits.
    M’lud: “Hello
everyone and welcome back, what’s next on the agenda Mr
Lassut?”
    Well M’lud, I
would like during this session to praise the natural, prolific,
inventive creativity of the good people of this ‘End of the Line’
town who, sadly know nothing of what financially satisfactory good
fortune may exist for them in the outside world. Yet, despite this
non-perception their self-contained product list is nothing short
of amazing and, I feel sure that this talent pool should be
recognised in the outside world, maybe for the ‘good’ of the
outside world?”
    M’lud: “Very
well then, carry on Mr Lassut”.
    Thank you,
M’lud. Well ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, I would
now like you to cast your minds back once again to the days of
Slade, to the days when Dave Hill wore fantastic costumes and when
everyone thought that guy with the moustache from the group Sparks
was weird. Then, as always, the inventors, the creators, made sure
the world kept turning because they knew that the day they refused
to accept and act on the inspiration they received, despite all the
‘negative things’ people said to and about them concerning madness,
the world would cease to (R)evolve, hmmmmm? The strange thing is
M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of the Jury, dear reader, every human
on this planet is a powerful creator yet most choose to deny or
even remain ignorant of the fact through no fault of their