Mum, I’ve bought a bus
Right.. let’s start this week’s column with a confession. I’ve bought a bus. As confessions go, it’s not up there with some of my best ones to my mother, but as she reads this column every week, I thought it best to tell her this way rather than phone her.
That said, 15 miles away from Mother’s home in Lytham St Annes, I can still hear that cry of despair I’ve known and loved for over half a century “Oh Andrew! You haven’t?!!”
I reply in the time honoured fashion.. “well yes Mother, I have”. Now time served supporters of this weekly outpouring will probably know that this isn’t the first time I’ve made this proclamation. Indeed, Mum was the first to ride on my old double decker to celebrate her 70th birthday... but that was a very long time ago.
We had a load of fun in it... nights out and trips through the Illuminations.... fish and chips at Fleetwood Ferry... lovely memories.
Once a bus driver, always a bus driver of course (if you keep your licence renewed... another one of mother’s bits of good advice). I spent my 21st year trying to manoeuvre the town’s buses around the tightest of corners and not always avoiding Foster’s canopy on Church Street.
As hobbies go, bus collecting is a bit quirky and I certainly know some good mates who are serial collectors and are starting to rival Blackpool Transport with the size of their fleet.
I’m more than happy with my new little single decker. For those who really take an interest in this sort of tomfoolery, I can tell you it’s a Dennis Dart MPD, a cute little box on wheels with low floor access, and it’s just for days out and playing in.
Boys and toys eh? Some blokes escape to the shed to build their empires, other have created whole new worlds behind several locked doors in the attic.
As I write, the current Mrs M is probably making meat paste butties and creating a picnic hamper for us to head off for days out in our new toy.
If mother plays her cards right, she can come on the next trip.