Glottal Stops and 'ostalgia

Peckham, on a wet saturday afternoon... The dog and duck, down the high street... Auntie Beryl... Next door's budgie... Catching the last bus home...

If... you're drinking Bacardi.

*Sigh.* Although cinema audiences were said to hate this Bacardi ad, featuring floppy haired blokes with rolled-up jacket sleeves, impossibly attractive women and exotic locations, I always loved it. I've seen one on-line person claim it was shown for about 6 months in the early 1990s, but I can assure the chap that it was in fact shown for years and years, probably 10 or more, and was only cancelled some time in the early 90s when Bacardi sought to update their image.

I hate the Bacardi ads of today, they're rubbish.

I spent some time in the USA in the summer of 1992, an unhappy time, and seeing my first film in the UK once I got back (A League of Their Own at the Savoy flea-pit in Snottingham) was a cathartic experience. As the familiar naff soprano sax music rang out (da da da-da daa da da...) and Nicholas Ball (who played Hazell in TV's Hazell) spoke those immortal words, a tear or two came into my eyes. Because I didn't want to be in the Caribbean with a bunch of exiles from Miami Vice, I wanted to be in rainy old Blighty, eating fish and chips and catching the next-to-last bus home.

I got over it though.