Tall Tales from Bruce the Basset Hound (redux)
“My Ironbridge Summer” Vol.2
“Tall Tales from Bruce the Basset Hound” is the lucky 6th chapter out of 56 in my latest self-published book “My Ironbridge Summer” which I’ve showcased below together with a link to the original article with the article itself reposted here in full below.
This is the point where I normally plead ever so gently with you to support a struggling indie author in buying my book (you can also read it for free if you have an Amazon Kindle “Unlimited” membership) but who am I kidding? No-one reads anything I post in The Matrix let alone buys my books even if I weave silly tales about Basset Hounds named “Bruce” (not his real name) and who, I’m guessing, loves having his droopy ears played with and shames me by looking even more depressed than I am and believe me, that’s some achievement.
So go on, buy my book! Go on! Look, Russia are going to explode nuclear bombs any day now and when they do, you can use the pages of my book(s) for kindling on the fires you’ll need to ward off the cold of a nuclear winter.
You see. I’m looking out for you until the bitter and nuclear end.
Right. See you in the nuclear fallout shelter.
And don’t forget to bring my book.
"My Ironbridge Summer" - link to Amazon
Tall Tales from Bruce the Basset Hound
I saw Bruce this morning, so all is well with the world once more. He may not be spending his days at the “Ironbridge Doggie Day Care” anymore as this little piece of doggy heaven has recently changed hands and I’m fucked if I can remember the name of the new owners. What’s far more im…
I saw Bruce this morning, so all is well with the world once more. He may not be spending his days at the “Ironbridge Doggie Day Care” anymore as this little piece of doggy heaven has recently changed hands and I’m fucked if I can remember the name of the new owners. What’s far more important than my lack of a short term memory is the news that Bruce the Basset Hound is alive and well and living his best life sprawled out like a King on a small trampoline in a garden full of his canine friends. Every Basset Hound is called “Bruce” in my world and this particular Bruce appears beautifully advanced in years and perfectly at peace with the world, a King upon his spring loaded throne.
Although the early morning sunshine had given way to a typically chaotic mix of April clouds, I tempted my beautiful son with the thrilling prospect of feeding some hungry ducks before tasting the sugary delights of the “Old Fashioned Sweet Shop” and the salted fried goodness from the chip shop next door. He chose the tunes for the 15 minute ride and he chose The Proclaimers and he chose wisely. “Throw the r Away”, “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” and “Sunshine on Leith” guided the kid in a Jaws t-shirt and your humble narrator to my own self-titled “Toy Town” and my spiritual home now for a quarter of a century.
Jeremy was pleased to see us in his little kingdom of sweets and the grandest of old fashioned shops in my favourite toy town in all the world. He always is and always, without fail, spoils the kid in the Jaws t-shirt and spoils me further with his forever friendship. We departed with mint toffees (me) and “peach hearts” and “blue tongues” for the spoiled kid in the “Quint’s — Shark Fishing” t-shirt. The kid wore a different Jaws t-shirt when I last saw him two days ago. Is he trying to tell me something?
Does he want me to roll off my impression of Robert Shaw again?
“lifeless eyes, black eyes…….
like a doll’s eyes”
Try it with the best gruff and gravel tinged voice you can muster.
You’ll never feel more alive.
Talking of death and films, can I highly recommend “All Of Us Strangers” to you? Here’s the sub-title to my article to whet your appetite:
“Ripped my heart out and threw it onto a broken table”
Pretty good, even if I say so myself.
Which I just did.
Anyway it’s a film of two men having the torrid love affairs of their lives whilst one dances a fine line back to the future with his dead parents from the 1980’s. It’s a ghost story, a beautiful, contemporary, heartbreaking ghost story. The film broke me on 50 minutes and I was a dishevelled mess an hour later! I couldn’t shake thoughts of the conversations I’ve never had with my Dad and the smiles of two dearly, dearly missed ladies who adored him.
“All Of Us Strangers” may not rip your heart out before throwing it onto a nearby table and breaking it but it’s a film beautifully open to interpretation, the honeymoon of a love affair of two people’s lives and a greatest hits collection of 1980’s era music wrapped around loss and regret, memories and moving on, peace and redemption.
And so much more.
So to tonight and as we’re among friends here can I admit to being more than a little nervous ahead of my Mighty Reds football team of Liverpool and their game this evening with those pesky, free scoring Italians from Bergamo, and Atalanta BC? I shouldn’t be nervous as already trailing by 3 goals from the first leg encounter in Liverpool last Thursday my Reds are toast and so this evening could be a free-wheeling free hit. But this is the Boss’ last season, and we’re not supposed to go out of European competition to an albeit mighty impressive Atalanta.
This my friends, simply wasn’t in the script.
But the Reds of my Liverpool footballing heart have looked “cooked”, shapeless and more than a little of the footballing vernacular “leggy” in recent games. Dare I add in “beatable” too?
This wasn’t in the script either.
So I’m nervous as my football team needs a new scriptwriter and what better or more opportune stage on which to start than this evening, and in front of nearly 25,000 at the Gewiss Stadium in Bergamo?
Up “The Unbearables”
Thanks for reading. I hope this message in a bottle in The Matrix finds you well, prospering, and the right way up in an upside down world.