Coloured strips and dancing pom-pom girls? It's just not cricket
Published 13/06/2009 | 00:00
My uncle Eugene was old school. For him, the passage of time meant an inevitable deterioration in conditions. The past was always better than the present, and the future was a wasteland too tragic to contemplate.
Take rashers. For Uncle Eugene, there hadn't been a good rasher in the country since before the Emergency.
Or teabags. A needless fandango, according to Eugene, made from the sweepings of second-rate tea plantations.