Dancers and Sad Sacks

Well the local parade season has started with our neighbours in Dalton enjoying a sunny Saturday for their annual bash. As usual the main streets were blocked and as usual we had folks who rang up wanting picking up from the blocked of areas, you would have thought that they would have learned by now wouldn't you. Most of the fares I had going up there were members of the dance troupes who hold a competition after the parade. Most of the dancers are young girls who just do it for fun, but the mothers take it very seriously. You wouldn't believe the amount of backbiting and catty remarks I overhear from the mums about their opposition, and I have been told of arguments which have ended up in hair pulling eye, scratching cat fights. Apart from the poor kids caught in the middle of this open warfare the ones I feel the most sorry for are the husbands and partners who are dragged, sometimes unwillingly along. You can spot the poor downtrodden sad sacks a mile away carrying their canvas deckchairs. They tend to wear three quarter pants and a football shirt in the colours of the team that they would be watching if only the football season hadn't just ended. Come on guys, don't do it get a hobby fishing, darts, hang gliding, drinking beer anything must be better than putting yourself through this torture!