A departure today from my usual bits about Gloucestershire place names for this little interlude. Wandering aimlessly past a toy shop the other day and here in the window is this little gem. A game called ‘Operation’. No, no, no!!!
I mused on the thought of the creative department of the games company thinking ” What can we do that’s new?” They are well short of any ideas to put to the boss, who’s just come back from a double hernia operation in the local hospital. Seeing his department looking miserable and de-motivated, the boss drops in his own idea and it’s the first thing that comes into his head. “How about we do a game called “Operation”, it’s all about getting bits out of bodies and if you get the wrong bit, there’s no litigation, just a buzzer. They’ll have to but their own batteries, now get to it and make it work, what the hell am I paying you guys for when I come up with all the brilliant ideas!”
Looking at each other with complete disbelief the team put together the game.
It’s a case of “the King’s New Clothes”, where none of them has the guts to tell the boss that this is a disaster waiting to happen.
It ends up in a shop reduced to a figure that is not far from the production costs.
There’s a shop not far away from where I live that sells almost everything and has been there for years. The stuff in the window has been there for years and is yellowed with age. I’ve yet to venture in and look at the goldmine within. The owner is a bit of a free spirit, caring nothing much for the look of the place, or perhaps he does and can’t afford a ‘makeover’, and probably does not know what such a thing is. He’s apt to put his own news headlines on the window and this one took my eye.
I’m not sure exactly what it means but assume that the local pensioners ( again I’m assuming plural ) have had no phone service for 3 weeks, or perhaps an oap ( to us over here in the UK, that’s short for old age pensioner: not politically correct these days, but our headline writer is not ) has phoned to say someone has been dead for three weeks. I’m sure it needs punctuation somewhere, but I’m not sure where. I should have gone in and asked him, but have this vision of someone who might bark at me and kick me out for being cheeky.
The next image is from his massive display of toys, and where else can you buy a whoopee cushion on the high street these days. I suspect that it’s been in the window since about 1959. Whopee.