THE ICE-CREAM MAN

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I wish I hadn't seen the ice-cream man picking his nose.


It was a warm afternoon and I really fancied a '99' (that's an ice-cream cone with a chocolate flake in it, Anna). But as I was approaching the van I saw him picking his nose. He didn't see me so I just turned around and walked away. (Thinking back, I suppose I could have remonstrated with him, taken him to task on his lack of hygiene standards - perhaps threatened to report him to the 'Health People'. But I did none of these things)


But the point I wish to make here is this: If I had not seen him I would have bought the ice cream and enjoyed it. And I don't suppose it would have done me any harm. But the fact that I saw him - in mid nasal-excavation - prevented me from having the pleasure of the '99'.


I am sure there is a moral here - but I am struggling to find what it is.
Perhaps I am too fussy. Perhaps we have been brainwashed about the dangers of germs. I know Sweden is a very clean place with superb hygiene standards, so I would appreciate your input on this. 


Fiscal matters have not improved, but I think that 'live now - pay later' is the best option for me to take at this time in my life. To this end I am dusting off my battery of credit cards. 


So when we get to Llandudno it will be a case of 'There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight' - a jazz classic, in its many forms - I especially like Bessie Smith's rendition.


Here's a link Get your Swedish ears around this.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4bXDKticro


'Till we meet


Georgie