It’s about three and a half thousand miles from London to New York. In 1976, they started the Concorde passenger service that could do it in three and a half hours. That’s not even as long as it took my Raymond to drive a coach full of tourists down to London from Yorkshire. He used to do that in those days. “Stardust Mini Holidays” they used to call them. They got a night in a London hotel with chicken in a basket and a carafe of wine with all whicker wrapped around it, tickets to see “No Sex Please We’re British, or “Jesus Christ Superstar” depending on how broad minded they were, and a full English breakfast the next morning. I went with him once, but I wasn’t too keen on seeing Jesus all done up like a ruddy pop singer, and the breakfast gave me heartburn.
Any road the thing was, that if my Raymond had set off for London from Hull at the same time that the Concorde was setting off for London from New York, the Concorde would have probably got there first. Especially if Raymond had had to stop off at the Watford Gap so that people could have a wee and stretch their legs.
I suppose that they had a toilet on the Concorde, as there are no convenient islands in the middle if the Atlantic Ocean where you could stop off for a wee and stretch your legs. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a wee while you are travelling at twice the speed of sound. My Raymond could never get it all in the bowl even when he was stationary, in the house on terra firma, so The Lord alone knows what he would have been like up there. If there was a toilet on the Concorde, I bet it ruddy reeked. All those rich blokes flying over to do business in New York, I bet they stank a bit when they got there. I bet there were a few deals never got clinched because the Americans thought that they were filthy beggars. Mind you, they would have had the same problem when they flew over to England. Which only underlines the fact that we ought to be more involved with Europe really. They have them bidets in Europe so you can clean yourself up properly when you have been to the toilet an’all.
These days, you can’t fly to America on the Concorde any more and it is back to about six hours a flight. So them who used to cross their legs and wait until they arrived on the other side before they had a wee probably won’t be able to manage it any more. So they will have to brave the in flight toilets, and with more men using them, conditions can only be worse. They are going to stink to high heaven!
Auntie Doris’s Top Pop hit of 1976: “Don’t Give up on us Baby” by David Soul. He was Starsky, (or was it Hutch?) out of Starsky and Hutch. Which was an American Cop show on the telly, where he usually ended up on skyscraper roof, talking gently to a murderer who was going to kill him, until they burst in to tears and handed the gun over. He used the same gentle persuasive voice on this record to persuade his baby not to give up on him. He must have spent half his ruddy life wheedling with upset people.