nice to be nice...nice to be cosy ( Dylan Thomas )

Funny old day really. Everyone was so nice. Not that that
is so unusual....but all at the same time. It almost seems that
everyone is getting into Xmas mode. The Jule zone as us golfing
bods like to call it. You know the one where you force a smile once
you have worked out what the present is and say
" Oh thats great Aunty Dilly...an arse and nose hair
remover all in one....what will they think of next...brilliant !"
You hold the strained smile long enough hoping shell look away.
The train journey was pleasant and peaceful...and almost
immediately after arriving at work I was sent out on the track.
The sun was shining....my golfer was pleasant ....the sun was shining
and Leon , my caddie companion was nice enough in between yawns
and texting his gel. The round took just over 3 hours.....and as I was
about to leave I popped into the shop to thank the bountiful pro and
caddie shack supervisor , Hamish Mixwell, and blow me down he handed
me two bags of top quality golf gear . Armani trousers....Ralph Lauren
shirts....even a couple of Boss shirts. I shall cut quite a dash out on the
fairways soon. Although I always think its a good idea to dress down in
front of the toffs. So I may keep them for best. I was almost overcome
with generosity. Then I bumped into Chilli and I was reminded that
outside of the gates of the Dale....its a jungle.
Just before skipping out of the gates the boss , Vincenzo , called me
into the office and told me I might be working again tomorrow. Its enough
to make a cynical man , a world weary man paranoiaic .....is this a bacon
tree ?........is this a hambush......er ambush........well see......
I think Ill wear my armani trousers tomorrow
Even the memsahib seems quite pleasant this evening.....its a ambush !

the painting job

Every year.....not every ear we are obliged to tidy up
our environment.....ie the shack. Non attendance at this
team function is frowned upon by the damagement
especially by Hamish Mixwell the shack supervisor and
inspector. A fastidious and fussy person who likes the shack
to be free of cigarette butts and drying socks. He stomps in
in his Gucci shoes every week for a fine tooth comb inspection.
He has always a complaint . I believe he would like us all in
uniforms and marching on Poland asap. We are all surly wastrels
with a healthy dollop of " we dont need no thought control...."
we like our dry habitat on the scruffy side.
But alas and alak.....today we had to paint it and there was
Hamish looking on with pride....and a few criticisms and suggestions.
He was kind enough to say to me
" the only place youve got a blister is on your feckin arse ! "
I think he was referring to my natural role in a supervisory capacity.
He also cruelly rejected my suggestion that I should paint an erotic mural,
and that we should have a graffitti corner. Hes a hard man Hamish.
But we all mucked in and were sent off with a sandwich and a beer
in our pockets. Marvellous. Waynetta aka Mogli the man cub seemed in
a bad mood when he said " I dont want to be on your feckin blob , cloppy . "
There we are Wayne.....just what you didnt want....ya booo sucks

I love the rain

I love the rain it washes memories off the sidewalk of life...
(Woody Allen ). Today on the 14th fairway I was reminded
of why I hate caddying in the winter. It chucked it down.
The rivers of Babylon. I was wetter than a swans arse.....
I was aghast that my regular client , the great Theodore
Funnell , wit , raconteur and shot inventor , suggested to
his fellow players that we play on. I was all for hailing a
kayak and canoeing in .....what what. Theodore asked me
to hold up an iron under the thunder so that I would catch
alight....and the rest of the party could dry themselves. I
think he was joking but hes in avery funny mood these days.
It was a nice enough round up until that point except for
the usual tantrums and I only lost two balls which for me is
almost a record. The promised xmas bonus of course did not
materialise and I must work again for the old Theodore
tomorrow. Lets hope hes holding folding . I wonder who he is
playing ? Lets hope its Mungo Grunto....matinee idol.....
Im glad to say though that I have finally shaken off a
shocking hangover where it felt like there were a couple of
Frenchmen living in my head. I only went out for some milk
and I end up being dragged into the Canon to be filled up with
brandy. I shant be doing that again for a long time. Well....
its XMAS ! Oh God.

out of the shack and back on track

As I left the house this morning and made my way to
the station I was aware of a force 3 gale affecting my
styled mullet. Not to worry I thought I have been booked
for a days work....a rare treat at this time of year. British
Rail of course made the journey tense and tiresome. At one
point during the journey I became consumed by train rage
and was on the point of kicking the drivers door in to persuade
him to drive faster. I arrived sweaty late and highly harassed.
The boss said I should caddie for a guy called Ralph....I
immediately thought of Ralph and Herbie made famous by
Cheech and Chong....and wondered if the guy would respond to
firm instructions. He was a very small man and seemed nervous
about having a hippie as a golf companion. I was just happy about being
back out on the Old course. My caddie companion for the day was James
" Twiglet " so called because he has to run around in the shower to get wet.
A gobby young man but good company and over the years I have sussed that
if you ignore his rudeness he warms to you. The standard of golf was shite
to very shite...wind left to right.....but between us we managed to find a few
balls and I told a few tired anecdotes that seemed to amuse them.
It was dry out there and bursting with Autumn colours....my favourite
tree Eric sends his regards......and I was glad to be moving. Four days in the shack
is hard to bear especially if you are as bad at playing cards as I am. But hey
cheer up on Saturday we have 75 mile an hour winds to deal with.....yiiiihhhhaaa!
There will be some mystery clubs given on Saturday............you can be sure
of that. There is almost nothing as funny or pleasureable as to see one of you
fellow caddies give a wrong club on a par 3 and then witness the ball sailing
over the green....it is called an "airmail " in caddie patois. There you are you
can even learn a new language reading this blog.
Tata

Reasons to be Grumpy ....Part 3

A slight adaptation of a great Ian Dury classic. Of course
if you have watched " Grumpy old Men " on the box you
will know that a special edition is made every Xmas. And
a good job too....as it made me realise that I was not alone.
As I am obliged to show interest and enthusiasm ..and a
certain bonhomie as part of the caddie package.....my theory
is that any kind of enforced goodwill without being paid for it
......sucks. This is why so many bars wont allow caddies in....
our idea of relaxation is to be as rude as possible.....and if you
dont accept that theory ....well then feck right off you shit for
brains.
There is also a type of manic madness.....which I despise.
You go to spend time with your in-laws.....whose political
beliefs defy logic....you find yourself listening to views that you
thought had died in the bunker with Hitler. You find yourself
listening to anals who did not know how to party when it was
1999.......and 7 long years on .....well. I hate it and when Boxing day
arrives ...thats when I want to celebrate. I am such a grump at
this time of year that even the memsahib just throws the food into
my pit. Thank God its a quiet one this year where I can growl just
at the missus .
I shall be sending my usual cards.....soon ....to get it over with.
She made the mistake of asking me the other night whether I wanted
to see the Xmas lights switched on......premature alzeimers obviously.
I declined and told her that while she was out there to talk to as many
strange men as possible. She failed to see the black humour.....black...
black....
I like the silly hats though ......is that dandyish....is it now....well
see about that.....
and you

an appalling sunday

Now normally Sundays are stressful because the London
to Brighton line has this system where the trains stop at
places you have never heard of.....Balcombe for example.
Today services were disrupted because of a derailment at
Brighton station yesterday. I had to go via Lewes , Clapham,
Wimbledon , Staines. By the time I had got to Staines I had
almost lost the will to live.
When I did finally arrive at the shack most of the work had
been had..and just to torture me further...Fun Time Frankie
was my only shack mate. Now normally hes a fine fellow....
but recently his hedonism has caught up with him. The quacks
got him on heart tablets.....and a number of other tablets. I
suspect one or two of them may have speed qualities. He could
not stop talking. He gave me his views on the caddieshack system,
the problems toffs have these days hiding their money....and his
solution to both pressing problems of the day. My mind was already
anticipating the second half of my journey....the trip home. I could
not wait to get started. Just to stop at Balcombe with its sleepy
village silence seemed appealing.
When I arrived back in Brighton I made the final mistake of
asking a member of British Rail staff....a pretty surly lot at the best
of times ....whether the service would be back to normal tomorrow.
Youd have thought I had asked him the meaning of life. He stuttered
....he floundered....he muttered some excuse.
The train coming in at platforms 2, 3, 4, 5 and six has just come off
the rails. Get Fun Time down there.....hell get them grafting.

windy wet and wintry

No work today . Just a bunch of tense rats ( caddies ) waiting for
their name to be called by the caddiemaster. Plenty of games of
12 card brag going on interspersed with squeals and groans ,
reactions to their luck. Waited for 4 hours and then went home.
Am booked for tomorrow so thats handy. Some of the boys havent
worked since Monday. Mind you its ugly out there at the moment.
Standing on the 6th tee of the New course in these conditions is
a bark especially if you know your golfer is likely to top it.......its
colder than a polar bears winkle.
I suppose I shall have to start hustling some of the members
for my xmas perks. I normally start with a tear jerking story about
my nephews little faces lighting up when they receive word from their
Uncle Dave. How they would woop and holler if they ever received a
gift .......Im welling up now just thinking about it. I even started a scheme
encouraging people to adopt a caddie for the winter but as yet there have
been no takers. People have no respect for our work in the community.
Lately its been so hard we have started eating mushrooms we find out
on the course. Fun Time Frankie ate so many of them he had to be
helped in. He was convinced that a giant duck had it in for him. How we
all laughed. Strangely ironic really as he always signs receipts " D.Duck ".
" Xmas is coming
The geese are getting fat
Please put a penny in an old caddies hat
If you havent got a penny
A halfpenny will do
If you havent got a halfpenny
Join the feckin queue.... ".....I thank you and goodnight

out with a double barrelled toff.....

It is some winter competition and I was specially requested so I
had to be there ....although I overdid the brandy in my medicinal
toddy last night and nearly approached the memsahib. She was watching
some people I have never heard of putting bugs in their pants so I thought
it best to leave her alone. So I arrived at the Dale optimistic.
The double barrelled toff I was due to caddy for looked a bit hungover
himself. It was chucking it down . The guys we were playing were scratch
golfers....they had to give us many shots. Off we went. I shant talk you through
round as it is dull....but we won and my patron for the day assured me that I
would be caddying for him in the next round and then asked me if I would try
to do some selling for his travel company ! He gave me a rather ropey brochure
which was very unimpressive....but hey it might be a little supplementary earner.
It was a pleasant enough day and even my fellow commuters did not get on
my mammaries . I doubt if there will be any work tomorrow as it is getting a bit
thin.....but my main man will probably have a thrash about at the weekend.
Lets hope so.
I will have to make a decision soon as to whether I continue to go in to tote
for work...as there is so little about.

Velkommen ...Bien venue

...What a day to start your blog ! As grey as Shirley Williams
as wild as the Bay of Biscay......and no work to be had. Thank
God one of the toffs has booked me for the morrow otherwise
the poor house beckons. Apart from all that I am in good spirits
and my mind had drifted in a quiet moment to the glory days in
Copenhagen. Somebody brought up the subject of Christiania.
Many happy memories.
To all those people who dont know who I am let me introduce
myself .....I am hippie....aka the hipster aka ....the coach ....many nom-de-
plumes.....many different sets of muckers....didnt ya know. So I hope you
enjoy this literary journey...a few anecdotes on the golfing world that
encapsulates the constant struggle of toff versus caddie....oh yes ....
I am sitting in my study in Brighton gazing at the lights on the pier
damning Xmas and English winters........and dreaming of a beach in
India. Mandrem beach perhaps with better company....who knows ?