Despite increasingly desperate attempts to silence me and my big mouf and save the Mumford HQ family further embarrassment at my literary hand, I am bravely forging ahead with what will be the second in a series of however-many-you-can-reasonably-be-expected-to-stand confessionals.
Today’s takes place some years before the last, but includes similar ingredients: 1 part facetiousness to 2 parts idiocy to all parts me to all points toward disaster…
I remember vividly the assorted object d’ar that decorated the many and any exposed surface around my childhood home. All, realistically, of little-to-no value to even the beadiest-eyed bargain-hunter, with the possible exception of one supremely ugly statuette; some supposedly classical creation, all wanton limbs and bared breasts, passed down through generations under the totally unfounded assumption that, because it was old, was therefore automatically worth at least the cost of a new car. Every family has one of these: a vase, a painting, a clock, a grandparent – anything archaic your parents can dream of one day proudly parading on the Antiques Roadshow, before holding heroically above their heads in hollow victory over The Man as they drive away from the office and into an early-retirement sunset in a magnificent new Mondeo… Flicking fingers at the neighbours as they pass…
Okay, now as I recall, the following events took place on a Thursday, and as such I can only assume I’d somehow stumbled across a little ‘free time’ from school, raising the stakes considerably. Anyway, after some experimentation in the kitchen, and giddy on the thrill of the ‘bunk’, my friends and I decided to heighten our delight by spinning around and around and around and around until we entered deep space. So we did. And I hurtled head first, at warp speed, toward the statuette. Oh Number 1 I made it so. Actual impact. Actually decapitated. Literally shattered my parent’s dreams… And actually hid in the shed for a week.
Moral: Pritt Stick don’t stick marble.
That is one spin I will regret for the rest of my life.
Fortunately, here’s a SPIN you won’t regret: The Sons recently performed a special one-off un-plugged session for the good people at SPIN online music mag, and you can now see the whole damn shizzle show right HERE! Wicked good, check it.
 
M&S HQ
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