Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #52: The Star – 27th October – 2nd November 2014

StarOhh, my Nephew Michael likes this one, what with him being in a pop group and reciting his poetry out of his published book and all that. He thinks that he is a proper star, he does. The only thing is, that he ruddy well isn’t, apart from in his own minds eyes of course. And that’s what this card is trying to tell you. There is something that you reckon that you are pretty good at, and you might just be letting it go to your head. Watch your step. Pride comes before a fall.

That’s not to say you shouldn’t enjoy doing the things that you are good at. Just don’t take it for granted that everyone else will have the same opinion of your abilities as you do. My Raymond’s brother Cyril always fancied that he was a dab hand at the mouth organ. He ruddy wasn’t. He could only play one tune and that was “D’ye ken John Peel (with his coat so gay?)” and he couldn’t even play that properly without making little grunting noises and all dribble going down his chin.

That was just a party piece though. He never seriously fancied a life on the stage or anything. Not like our Michael. I’m sure he thinks that he’s the real deal. Like that Bonio out of U ruddy 2. The thing with these pop stars, is that before they know where they are they start believing that they don’t have to obey the same rules as anybody else. Then they are running around without any clothes on spilling their drinks all over the place willy nilly, and driving their cars into swimming pools. Not that our Michael has ever done that, but he did reverse his Citroen Picasso into one of them metal bollards at ASDA once. He cracked his ruddy back bumper. And I blame his obsession with pop music. He was probably thinking about doing pop concerts rather than where he was going. Typical.

Four things that you might do this week (i) Take up a musical instrument, if you haven’t already. If you have, try a different one. The humble mouthorgan is a good place to start. Don’t borrow anyone else’s though. One Christmas, I had a go at blowing on Cyril’s organ and when I sucked it all tobacco flavoured drool came out of it and into my mouth. Disgusting! (ii) Have a night in on your own, or with a very close friend, and behave like a pop star. Take all of your clothes off and have a few drinks in the niff. Remember to draw the curtains and turn the heating up though. What goes on in the privacy of your front room should not be viewed by any Tom Dick or Harry passing by outside. (iii) Do something that you think you are good at. Don’t worry too much about what other people might think. Just don’t get too big headed, imagining that they might think that you are really good. On the other hand, don’t hide your light under a bushel. Whatever one of them is when its all at home (iv) If you do drive to the supermarket, concentrate on your driving. And Don’t Forgrt to use your ruddy mirrors.

The Auntie Doris Years: 1921

fattyFilms were still silent in those days, and my father still wanted nothing to do with them, but he was pittling into a strong wind. Hollywood was getting so popular, they had already put up those great big letters in the hills that everyone recognises to this day. There were proper stars too. I’ve already mentioned Charlie Chaplin, but there were lots more, Buster Keaton, Rudolph Valentino, Mary Pickford, Gloria Swanson, and of course, Fatty Arbuckle.

How many fat film stars are there these days eh? I can’t think of one. Not since Oliver Hardy hung up his bowler hat. That black man who did the Nutty Professor doesn’t count. He was wearing a rubber suit. Perhaps the people of Hollywood have something about fat people. They would rather pay a thin man to pretend to be one, than pay a genuine one the going rate. It all smacks of discrimination to me. Fancy forcing a man into changing his fist name into a mockery of his appearance. That black man who did the Nutty Professor never had to do anything like that. There would have been an outcry, and quite right too. Don’t go thinking that I’m a racialist just because I can’t remember his ruddy name. I can’t remember the name of that white man out of the films who got done for fiddling with himself in the pictures either, it means nothing. Apart from maybe that I never held with either of them and their sodding silly films. And (in case you are wondering) they come out on the other side at the same time as they go on general release in America, and they don’t charge you over the odds for a box of popcorn here either).

Any road, in 1921 Fatty Arbuckle got charged with rape and ruddy murder. They said that he had forced his attentions on this poor lass and somehow burst her insides, laying on top of her with his enormous weight. He got acquitted by a jury. Was the charge a load of codswallop made up by people who were jealous of a fat man who was rich and famous? I don’t know. He said he never did it, and she said he did. His career was ruined, despite the not guilty charge. They haven’t changed their stories here on the other side either. One thing I do know is that it is pretty ruddy hard for a fat fellow to kill someone just by laying on them. Alright, Big Daddy did send Mal “King Kong” Kirk to an early grave by jumping headlong onto his prone body, but that was a ‘Daddy Splash’ a dangerous wrestling move that should have been banned. And besides, Kirk wasn’t very well before entering the ring. If Fatty Arbuckle had done a Daddy Splash on that lass, they should have hung the wicked so and so.

Auntie Doris’s pop pick of 1921: “The Sheik of Araby” by Ray Miller and his Black and White Melody Boys. Nice song, but I wouldn’t want anyone creeping into MY tent at night whilst I was asleep. My flaps are staying shut tight, thank you very much.