Ask Francis's Knee Archives - MARCH 2004

Dear Francis's knee,
Sadly, for my beloved Highland Terrier 'Stuart' with his penchant for long walks encased in honey, my head was ripped off during an unfortunate swan based affray whilst attending a recent under-publicised, 'Unremarkable-thought' convention. I fear these little jaunts in preserve and sweet spreads may have to come to an abrupt end. Can you suggest a solution to this little quandary? I also lost a button from my shirt in the aforementioned incident, what is the best way of reclaiming the said button and is it time consuming and costly?
Mr. Ferry

Dear Mr. Ferry
Over three million buttons are lost world-wide every day. If you think about it, and I don't see any reason why you shouldn't, after all, it's a free country the amount is going on for staggering. Before your question, I would have had said something more in the region of 20-30 buttons were lost during any given day. Then again, I would have been wrong. Fortunately, for everyone anywhere, even Finland, there is an organisation which champions the search and recovery of lost buttons. The I.L.T.B. (The World Wide Fund For The Reclamation of Lost Buttons) I suggest you contact them over this matter, quoting the button's serial number along with a Polaroid and a rough sketch of the area you think the button may have come off. Remarkably, they're proud of their 21% customer satisfaction rating. I'd be appalled. Even their contact details seem a little ropy. They suggest you tie your sketch and a little note explaining the whole thing to the expert talons of a Homing pigeon and send it on it's merry way, which, unfortunately and this it what they appear to have overlooked, will undoubtedly be your own home. As for the dog walking? Well, I'd just carry on as normal and pretend nothing has changed. Dogs can sense change like they can sense oncoming lava, most refrigerator defects and the decline of the Roman Empire. Quite handy things really. Shame they can't talk.
Bye for now, Francis' knee.

Dear Francis' knee
I went for a drive last week up to Goulash Point. I’d decided to colour in most of the East coast in crayon and had sourced a month’s supply of personal air. My Doctor and his Great, Great Grandmother hire out a state of the art miniature ‘Penguin rescue centre’ near by and since I was in the area, I decided to pop in and say "hello", "Bin-bag juice", "wolf", and some other words which seemed appropriate at the time. However, on arrival I was dismayed at my host’s outrageous display of Pre-historic entertainment. I was forced to ride a paper-machete Diplodocus, swim with crabs larger (with all credit to him) and more realistic than Luxemburg itself and line dance. He and I both smiled throughout the entire 2 months, though I couldn’t help but think his actions rather discourteous. What happened to the good old days when simple games the likes of, ‘Prod the hover bag’, ‘Dance with the sponge mule’ and ‘bend time’ were all the rage? As a footnote, I'd also like to mention the severe lack of refreshments on offer (nibbles and snakes, that sort of thing) just in case he may be reading this.
Sam Daymyprincewillcome

Dear Sam Daymyprincewillcome
Most of the ‘good old days’ as you put it are now nearly quite old and are living in retirement dreaming of Carthorses. No one knows why. Though on a more positive note, several have made a remarkable come back. Last year for example, June 14th 1904 appeared out of the blue in Innsbruck during a ‘Skiing really fast in to a barn door festival’. The 9th of September 1747 amazed audiences when it burst in to the lower circle of the ‘Intestine Theatre’, Oslo on the 29th of August 1977 and changed what would otherwise have been a rather bland rendition of Shakespeare’s ‘Taming of the shoe’. Many of the old games you mention are enjoying what you might call renaissance, granted, chiefly in the renaissance period. One such game, ‘Slippering the Wasp’, in which certain individuals take it in turns to shoe/slipper as many of a wasps feet as they can under the influence of helium, has been spotted in several of Sydney’s more ‘up-and-coming’ suburbs. ‘Tie me a cucumber’, in which three teams of 19 or thereabouts try and tie two cucumbers together under the water has recently been sold to the ABC as a viable concept for a game show. As for the lack of victuals on offer I would merely put that down to, ‘Hubbardisation’ Meaning, a lack of foodstuffs in the hosts cupboards. (From the poem ‘Old mother Hubbard’)
Francis' Knee

Dear Francis' knee
Can you suggest anything that might make the whole experience of playing the Saxophone a lot more enjoyable and safer for everyone concerned? I work as an attendant at a local art museum for the temporarily old and on many occasions, predictably about two thirds of the way in to my speech on Monet and his dancing Panda, I am rudely interrupted by someone driving their car directly in to the main foyer, in turn, scattering the small ensemble or, ‘gaggle’ of saxophonists that have gathered there to eat crumbs. As legend states, these musicians have congregated there in that particular spot since the dawning of time but have only recently been a target for weary motorists. Can I suggest they wear massive neon costumes complete with claxons, swan whistles and flags so as they do not interfere with the daily goings on of normal, less ‘blowy’ people? I would like to point out that I am in no way condemning the actions of either the saxophonists or those who feel the need to encase them in resin, rather I take the misguided, somewhat half-hearted view of a passionate bystander in the great debate on these such matters. I myself suffer from ‘Banjo’s disease’, a rare and painfully soul-destroying affliction that effects my day to day living not in the slightest but which means I get to throw a pound of mince at the sea on occasions. I have cream.
Mr. E. Starprize

Dear Mr. E. Starprize
I share your concerns, but what can be done? Well, you may be interested to note that under a new law, which comes in to effect as from next month, anyone playing or ‘yielding’ a musical instrument in public will have to have to don “....a 20 foot high shimmering soup costume’ made from the latex sleep-spit of the mystical 4-winged futon bird -‘Lotsium Trillions Maximus’-which, in Latin means, what it would be if it were spoken in Latin. Thought to be extinct for over 250 years this mythical creature returned to the inner cities last year after it was rediscovered during an unprovoked clerical error in the drunken typing pool at a nearby local Government Extinct Animals department. Seen more as a positive step to encourage the random playing of instruments in public rather than a severe dose of breaded humiliation, this new ‘Suit of Soup’ will bring joy in to the lives of thousands and probably not to others. As for your ‘Banjo’s disease’, all I can do is recommend you try leaning on a lamppost for a while or by washing windows. Hope your ‘cream’ clears up.
Francis' Knee