Showing posts with label Bill Bryson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Bryson. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Long live the King


It seems no one has told the Post Office on Islay that we have a 'new' monarch.
Only since 1952, of course.
So it might be considered a little rash and hasty to have replaced all of the post boxes so soon. Oh, in case, any of my non-British readers haven't a clue what I'm talking about, have a look at the photo above of a post box on the wall of Laphraoig Distillery on Islay.
Above the opening for "Letters Only" you will see GVIR which refers to the late (some might say very late) King George 6th.

I suppose one generous way of looking at this is to see it as a refreshing alternative to what normally happens when Government Departments are restructured leading to a complete and costly corporate-image makeover.
I guess the philosophy is that if it is still working - why replace it?
Perhaps we need a little bit more of this sort of thinking. It might mean that we produce much less waste and pollution. Sadly, I fear the concept of 'planned obsolescence' is too deeply ingrained into our psyche in the Western world.

However, on the subject of post boxes, and UNplanned obsolescence...
I have recently chuckled my way through Bill Bryson's "Notes from a Big Country"
In one of the sections he lists various examples of stupidity and the seemingly inane advice that is often printed on American products (such as instructions on an electric iron not to use it in conjunction with explosive materials.)
But I'll let him tell you the rest in his own inimitably humorous style:

"Until a few days ago my instinct would have been to chortle richly at people who need this sort of elemental guidance, but then three things happened that made me modify my views.
First, I read in the paper how John Smoltz, a pitcher for the Atlanta Braves baseball team, showed up at a training session one day with a painful-looking red welt across his chest and, when pressed for an explanation, sheepishly admitted that he had tried to iron the shirt while he was wearing it.
Second, it occurred to me that although I have never done anything quite so foolish as that, it was only because I had not thought of it.
Third, and perhaps most conclusively, two nights ago I went out to run two small errands - specifically, to buy some pipe tobacco and post some letters. I bought the tobacco, carried it straight across the street to a Post Office letter box, opened the lid, and deposited it. I won't tell you how far I walked before it dawned on me that this was not a 100 per cent correct execution of my original plans.
You see my problem. People who need labels on pillarboxes saying 'Not for Deposit of Tobacco or Other Personal items' can't very well smirk at others, even those who iron their chests or have to seek lathering guidance from a shampoo hotline."
[Bill Bryson: Notes from a Big Country, 1999]

So here's a challenge to you, and your willingness to confess your own stupidity...what's the most bizarre thing you have ever accidentally dropped into a post box?

PS. Looks like the Islay post box may not have been cleaned much since the days of King George either.