ELF IN LOVE (OR ELFIN LOVE)

A couple of weeks ago I went to visit my parents and left Walter in charge of the flat on the strict instructions that he is not to admit any more imaginary creatures or pantomime characters in for comedy knees-ups, drug smoking, political meetings, shoemaking, fashioning of magical rings or pretending not to realise that someone is behind them. He phoned me on my mobile one night, all forlorn. Turns out he is having girlfriend trouble. His voice is pretty squeaky at the best of times, but he was sounding noticeably very upset. He's always been a bit of a jack-the-lad before, bringing home a different tiny pointy-eared female every couple of weeks. They were always a little worse for wear and I long since resigned myself to the fact that I would always very soon be hearing the sounds of tiny elfin bedroom gymnastics from within the sofa.

But lately I had noticed a distinct change in him. The regular sofa guests stopped. I was pleased about this as it meant I didn't have to explain the noises to E & L when they stayed. He seemed very restless and unable to concentrate on his normal everyday tasks and he started stopping and smelling flowers for no reason and waxing lyrical about how beautiful everyday things were. After questioning him about it, I found out the reason. Walter was in love! Her name was Tallina Breeze . A tree nymph from Bolton Woods. Walter spoke of her in an enchanting lyrical fashion. Such a contrast from the usual crude descriptions he gave for his latest conquests. Beauty, fear, honour, privilege, longing. affection, constancy and love all of a sudden became part of Walter's vocabulary.

I had the pleasure of meeting her one evening. Walter sent me out to the shops for a teeny tiny dining table and dolls china dinner set and he locked himself in the kitchen all afternoon from where tantalising smells wafted into my nostrils like an amusing game of Name that Smell. When Tallina finally arrived for Walter's repast, I was pleasantly surprised to note that she was markedly different from Walter's usual arm trophies. She had a winning smile and was pretty and striking in a quite unique teeny tiny way. She and Walter seemed to get on effortlessly and the evening was filled with squeaky laughter, despite the notable absence of Walter's usual inebriation.

A number of similar evenings followed and when I left Walter in charge of the flat that week, it was in the rather confident hope that he had put his wild oat sewing and hedonism days behind him and was now forging an altogether more lasting happiness. So when I heard his voice on the phone, betraying signs of personal devastation, my heart sank for my little love-struck squatter.

To cut a long story short (well, not that short, but I'm trying my best), Tallina has gone all cold on Walter. He can't understand it and frankly, neither can I. From what I saw of them together, she seemed as besotted with him as he is with her. From what Walter has told me about what she has said to him, it seems she has been rather badly let down in the past and is frightened to open herself up to such hurt again. Walter quoted something particularly poignant which Tallina apparently said to him in cartoon-mouse like tones:

"because it's easier not to have something than having to worry about how to keep it and look after it"

The poor little things. Sounds like they are both experiencing some considerable angst and anguish. I hope that they can work it out with time and that Walter doesn't go off the rails in the meantime.

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BEAUTY

One of my friends recently posted a video to my Facebook wall which was made by the Dove Campaign For Real Beauty.

You can see the excellent video that my friend sent me here.



Please take a couple of minutes to watch it before reading on.

The funny thing is, even at the end, that woman isn't attractive at all to me. The same would go for a lot of models and celebrities and I'm fairly sure I am not atypical. A lot of men would much prefer the 'girl next door' in real life.

Yet women and especially young girls aspire to that and it it so damaging. They are aspiring to be something nobody really wants them to be and something that they can never achieve. Destroying their self-esteem and their health in the process. Two things that are crucial if a woman wants to be truly attractive.

As a father of two young girls I sincerely hope that something changes before they get old enough to be seriously affected by the media distortion.

A lot more excellent information is available on the Dove Campaign For Real Beauty website.

Thanks again, Bee.

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POLITICAL RALLY

One day a few months ago I arrived home from the gym, hoping to relax with a jam sandwich and a copy of Pedant's Weekly, but was disappointed to find that Walter had invited about twenty of his mates around for a political rally.

"And what's more comrades," Walter orated. "We will no longer stand idly by, allowing this trend towards simple Swedish furniture. I suggest an immediate keeping of all loose change that falls out of people's pockets, as well as keys, bank-cards, lighters and small shreds of paper with attractive girls' phone numbers on them."

"Right on Walter," agreed the multitude in high-pitched harmony.

"We're right behind you!!" they added.

" Walter!!" I interjected. "What the f&*k is going on? Who are this lot? And who said you could invite them here?"

"These are my comrades from the Terribly Reasonable Union of Furniture Elves, or TRUFE for short. Sorry. We were meant to meet at Gary the sideboard elf's place but he had to cancel at the last minute. Isn't that right, comrades?"

"Right Walter," the crowd agreed.

"What do we strive for??" said Walter , back in Arthur Scargill mode.

"TRUFE!!" they answered in unison.

"OK, OK," I said. "Fair enough. But I was hoping for an early night. How long were you planning on carrying on for?"

"Carrying on?! CARRYING ON???!!" said Walter, clearly offended."We're not 'carrying on'. This is deadly serious. We've got families to think of, you know!"

"No you haven't. You all live alone inside pieces of people's furniture."

"Well, yes. Technically that's true. But some of us put it about a bit. Take Dave the washing machine elf for instance. He has three kids to three different imaginary woodland characters. That takes a bit of keeping on top of, let me tell you."

"Yes, Walter," I said. "You don't have to tell me about how expensive children are. But isn't that kind of his own problem? Hang on a minute! Washing machine? That's not furniture. That's a household appliance!"

"Yes it is," answered Walter. "He used to be part of our sister union, the Big Union of Technical Equipment Elves. We amalgamated about nine months ago. Now we just use either name. They're interchangeable."

"So BUTEE is TRUFE and TRUFE is BUTEE?" I asked.

"That's it," said Walter. "One for all and all for one. That's our motto."

"No it isn't. That's the Three Musketeers' motto."

"Oh, f&*k off. OK, then. One for elf and elves for one."

"Hmm. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?"

"Look, Gulliver, will you just stop taking the f&*king piss? How would you like it if your home was threatened with being changed from plush leather to stressed pine and cotton covers stuffed with foam? That's what's happening, you know! What do we want?"

"No more IKEA."

"When do we want it?"

"1998!!"

"OK. Fair enough," I said to Walter. "But can you keep it down a bit? I was hoping for a quiet night in."

"Don't worry, big man. We can be quiet if we want to. We don't need to shout. The TRUFE always comes to the fore eventually."

"Cheers, Walter. Catch you tomorrow."

Shocking language these elves. It wouldn't have happened if we still had compulsory 2 year military service for imaginary woodland creatures (National Elf Service).

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