The Traditional Rob Z Tobor End of the Year Post involving Auld Lang Syne and Foxes

I know this is what I wrote last year(and the year before that) but it is now going to be the new, New Years Eve traditional post until I forget that I have one, which may be next year or next week, who can tell......

So here we are at the end (almost) of 2014 and we all know what that means, it means folk standing out on street corners shouting and letting off fireworks hugging strangers as they pass and singing that old traditional Scottish song that no one knows the words too. But luckily most folk are a bit merry and will not be aware that instead of singing the correct words they are singing

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never mmmmm to mmmmm?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll mmmm  o' mmmm mmmm,

For auld lang syne.

 

which sort of shows that folk don't really know the words

Then everyone will repeat this until they get bored and spot an urban fox chasing a pigeon, where upon the masses will abandon singing Auld Lang Syne staggering about in a mad linked hands sort of dance and chase the fox shouting

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX MY DEAR,

IN A DUSTBIN AT IKEA

I’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX I BET,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

BUTTER IN HIS EAR MY DEAR,

PUT BUTTER IN HIS EAR

WE’ll CATCH AN URBAN FOX AND THEN WE’LL GET

SOME BUTTER IN HIS EAR

O yes they all know the words then

So I have left a message with the foxes (again) to avoid large crowds of people who look happy and not to spend the night raiding the Swedish meat balls in the bins of IKEA. And don’t go anywhere near people with tubs of butter

I would like to wish everyone a jolly happy new year (yes OK it is still two days away but) and if you live in the UK I believe New Years Day is due to be stormy/nice or something  (it was last year),  not sunny like this year (the year before last year).  . . . I dont know what will happen this year regarding the weather yet, and I suspect no one really cares that much 

If you do not plan to sing a fox based song and chase urban foxes then here are the words to Auld Lang Syne, the proper ones which is not as good but which is more traditional unless you live very near IKEA and are pestered by Urban Foxes. . . . . . . . . . .

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne.

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!

And surely I'll be mine!

And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pou'd the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!

And gie's a hand o' thine!

And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

All the best for 2015. Or what ever year it is about to be at some point approx . . . . 

As for the Nice Steven Spielberg, I may be forced to take my story to another film Producer chap. . . . . . I know its terrible, but I am getting older all the time so if I wait too long I will be well past it and totally away with the fairies. 

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The origins of old traditions, Goat murmuring, Charles 1st and a Large Cat.

We all wonder stuff, particularly when it is very very hot again today and our minds have melted slightly and are dripping out of our ears making our thoughts mushy as well as making passers by shout Oooo look YUCK.  So I thought to myself today, well to tell the truth I thought to myself about five minutes ago because I was thinking what will I write tonight.  Yes I thought where do all these strange old traditions come from that folk do, like the old Shropshire tradition of Goat Murmuring on the first Sunday of August where folk gather in the local tavern or hotel and murmur away to entice the local goats in. 

Lets face it, it is all very well with its strange rules and instant disqualification for using trails of peanuts, crisps or beer and everyone singing long into the night as they parade the goat proudly aloft if they have succeeded in the quest, in its gilded goat throne. But it is not the sort of thing you sit about thinking I bored today lets try Goat Murmuring. It takes years for such things to take hold and become a part of the local tradition, so that folk turn up from all over the world to take part.

Some say this particular tradition is from the days of Charles 1^st, when he was being hunted down by the parliamentarians and he found himself cornered in Ye Olde Pig and Trolley Inn . . . . . (full English Breakfast available all day). They say that the sharp thinking inn keeper had an old goat skin behind the counter and dressed the King up as a goat.  The Curious but slightly stupid parliamentarians questioned the inn keeper who explained he was practicing his murmuring for the annual Goat murmuring competition. The King joining in by butting the parliamentarians and becoming docile and friendly when the inn keeper started to murmur.

That’s all well and good but traditions like that just can not get going these days, lets face it the old tradition of throwing grannies off the bus is not quite the same. Particularly as it happens every Friday night rather than once a year.

Ooooooo while I was away I saw a huge cat called Ben he was really huge, but rubbish at Cat murmuring and never caught a Dolphin.