Occasional tedious ramblings from a feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrow boater who likes cats, beer, tea, and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Some people, it seems, don't share my enthusiasm for one of my Droitwich tat auction treasures. I have shown it proudly to people (you know who you are) and been met with frank bafflement. But I am not deterred. It might look at first glance like a standard plastic holdall from the seventies/early eighties, in a particularly virulent shade of algae-green; spacious, hardly used and in good condition, but not something to get terribly excited about... But closer examination reveals it to be, in fact, a rare historical artefact; a PVC time capsule (and not only because it came complete with a pair of slightly worn but newly washed woollen socks).
It is not just any old 1980s algae-green plastic holdall; it is a British Waterways 1980s algae-green plastic holdall, and I for one shall carry it with immense pride and affection, feeling the hand of history upon my shoulder (or perhaps the bag of history in my hand, which doesn't have quite the same ring to it). O, you sneering cynics, how you will yearn, in the bleak years to come, for an outdated, unfashionable, inefficient but solid and reliable, 20th century artefact to carry your boating hopes and dreams. We shall not see its like again.