fun with rodge and jane
Clear September afternoon at Yum Yum's cafe in the town of Naas. School children drift by on main street, poignant in their way as the falling leaves.
I am sitting at a window seat with the Mammy, hatching a coffee and regaling her with an account of my favourite film scene in cinematic history.
The scene in question is from the James Bond film Live and Let Die.
Roger Moore as Bond was trying to persuade the astonishingly beautiful voodoo priestess Jane Seymore to give him a bit of a kiss.
Jane was having none of it.
Rodge says: "Let's ask the cards."
He produces a deck of Tarot cards and selects one.
He holds it up.
It's the lovers.
Jane, who has genuine mystical powers, looks troubled.
Rodge shuffles the deck.
Jane picks a card.
Again it's the lovers.
Jane feels she no longer has any choice in the matter and proceeds to a rumbustious bout of slap and tickle with Rodge who looks duly pleased with himself.
Presently we see that the deck of cards contains 52 versions of the lovers.
Apparently British Intelligence issues all secret agents with a deck like this just in case.
Anyhoo.
As usual I am now trying to apply the lessons learned in James Bond films to my own life.
"Some of these Tarot card young ones will do anything the cards tell them," I inform the Mammy earnestly. "The trick is getting the cards to fall the way I want them to."
The venerable parent shakes her head.
"I have to ask you something," sez she. "Didn't I hear you criticising Jackie last month when she consulted a Tarot reader?"
Jackie is my sister in law. The Mammy may indeed have heard some such criticism from me. For I was very small minded a month ago.
I avert my gaze and look sheepishly out the window.
"What was it you said?" persisted the Mam. "Something about dark forces, and unleashing powers no one understands. You told her she was meddling in the occult, didn't you? You seemed to be dead set against it anyway. What's caused you to change all these deeply felt principles?"
I sat back in my chair and took a sip of the jaded bean which is coffee.
"Lil old pal," sez I cheerily, "have you seen this girl?"
I am sitting at a window seat with the Mammy, hatching a coffee and regaling her with an account of my favourite film scene in cinematic history.
The scene in question is from the James Bond film Live and Let Die.
Roger Moore as Bond was trying to persuade the astonishingly beautiful voodoo priestess Jane Seymore to give him a bit of a kiss.
Jane was having none of it.
Rodge says: "Let's ask the cards."
He produces a deck of Tarot cards and selects one.
He holds it up.
It's the lovers.
Jane, who has genuine mystical powers, looks troubled.
Rodge shuffles the deck.
Jane picks a card.
Again it's the lovers.
Jane feels she no longer has any choice in the matter and proceeds to a rumbustious bout of slap and tickle with Rodge who looks duly pleased with himself.
Presently we see that the deck of cards contains 52 versions of the lovers.
Apparently British Intelligence issues all secret agents with a deck like this just in case.
Anyhoo.
As usual I am now trying to apply the lessons learned in James Bond films to my own life.
"Some of these Tarot card young ones will do anything the cards tell them," I inform the Mammy earnestly. "The trick is getting the cards to fall the way I want them to."
The venerable parent shakes her head.
"I have to ask you something," sez she. "Didn't I hear you criticising Jackie last month when she consulted a Tarot reader?"
Jackie is my sister in law. The Mammy may indeed have heard some such criticism from me. For I was very small minded a month ago.
I avert my gaze and look sheepishly out the window.
"What was it you said?" persisted the Mam. "Something about dark forces, and unleashing powers no one understands. You told her she was meddling in the occult, didn't you? You seemed to be dead set against it anyway. What's caused you to change all these deeply felt principles?"
I sat back in my chair and took a sip of the jaded bean which is coffee.
"Lil old pal," sez I cheerily, "have you seen this girl?"
posted by heelers | 1:54 AM
3 Comments:
ah, quindi Shnee o Schnee (???) scrive meglio di me??? E bravo l'irlandese.... Noi italiani scriviamo meglio di voi irlandesi anche quando siamo analfabeti!!!
:-PPPPPPPPPP
translate this! Bia
Yeah well, obviousment I don't scrive meglio than you in Italiano. Or at all in facto.
James you little scamp, see what yer've unleashed ;)
Anyway, as you may have noticed, I always love the stories about the Lil, and this one is no exception. Such wisdom droppeth from her lips. Hmm...wish I knew a good tarot reader though.
Dear Schnee, you need not be worried about Bianca's ire. It is directed towards me!
Her comment is: "We Italians write better than you Irish, even those of us who are illiterate."
By the way Schnee, you are indeed correct that I am a scamp. Or at least whatever the insane version of a scamp is.
I mean what was I doing teasing a Neapolitan? Could I find no Sicilians that day?
Insane!
At least the Sicilians might leave a handsome corpse.
Bia, la mia bella Bia, mi hai preso sul fatto. Aspetto un horses head nel letto come nel "Padrino!"
Qui una interessante coincidenza... Il nome Schneewittchen (Tedesco) vuol dire "bianca neve."
Baci e abracci,
James
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