Sunday, 9 August 2009

Things to Do in Oxfordshire Before You're Dead

Quite a random piecemeal posting from me this week I'm afraid.

You've just got to love our local newspaper where the traditional and highbrow vie with the lurid.'Didcot Man Cuts Off Own Penis' was a particularly memorable recent headline, as if the town and the gesture were somehow interconnected. Foolish man I thought, to cut off one of his only sources of entertainment in that godforsaken outpost with only bingo, a power station, Didcot Parkway and alcoholism to offer. As for The Oxford Times Letters pages, they must count as among the only in the country where arguments about bus routes and theosophical debates about the existence of God rage side by side. One thing that startles when you read it for any length of time though are the high volume of both kiddie fiddlers and suicides we appear to have in Oxfordshire. And cancer. Not to mention opera. Only recently tabloidised, it retains its pretentious dinosaur food critic (if he didn't exist, you would have to invent him) but has funked itself up with wonderful photography and maintains high production values with a real bias towards the Arts and few 'Shed Fire!''s creeping in. Friends of mine appear in it and its magazines with worrying regularity with their latest artistic or green triumphs. And it still carries proper Obituary columns to aspire to at lifes' end.







The Sue Ryder charity shop in Abingdon specialises in dolls houses and furniture.








Nice touch in the Cornish Pasty shop of smuggler decor. Someone had smuggled all the flavour out of the pasties though.










Inedible crisps.
















You don't say. If they're free, I'm having a dozen!













They've had the feedback forms from Future Generations and it's official - Future Generations want a state-of-the art modern museum that gets down with da kids man. None of this musty antiquated stuff. Except for the Mummy obviously. No museum is complete without a Mummy.












Cherwell Valley Service Station - Every essential for the modern motorist...



















Unauthorised golf - a growing menace in Oxford parks...













Actually toddlers are often better parkers than their parents.

14 comments:

Steve said...

I have a friend who is working on a 6 month contract at the Ashmoleon as a technician - do hope his penis is still attached and not spread (metaphotically) all over this delightfully edifying newspaper.

Steve said...

Sorry. Ashmolean. It's been a long night.

Nota Bene said...

I'm worried about the golf thing. Lot's of youths hanging around in Pringle cardis and plaid trousers knocking golf balls around sound kind of BBC 3.

mmm Didcott...what's to like?

The Sagittarian said...

hey, how clever was that decoration on the drink? A priate touch to be sure, we fly a pirate flag in our back yard (for reasons which have long since escaped me....), Oxford always looked pretty in the TV dramas!

JamaGenie said...

Came over from Lucy Fishwife's. Don't know why I haven't been here before now! As for the sign in the park, I'd be much more worried about people fouling their dogs than the unauthorized golf. Or perhaps the unauthorized golfers are fouling their dogs? If so, such behavior is NOT appropriate in a public place and *must* take place elsewhere. I'd suggest the Ashmolean. That should take care of those "future generations"!

Rol said...

We've got a 'No Golfing' sign across the road from us, at the entrance to a dark walk through the woods where if you hit a golf ball more than about six feet in front of you, you'd never see it again.

The sign also reads No Skating, No Bicycles and No Horse Riding - but curiously, doesn't forbid jetpacks. I'm down there again tonight, and lighting up.

Wisewebwoman said...

One questions begs to be answered:
where would one get the authorization to cycle on the cycle path?
XO
WWW
PS and there's nothing like a game of authorized golf........

小貓咪 said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
KAZ said...

Manchester museum has recently got down with da kids man.
It's chucked out all the wonderful stuffed stuff and replaced it with computer screens not half as interesting as what they can find with Google.
Sigh

Annabel Gaskell said...

On a positive note ... We went to the revamped Pitt Rivers Museum last week. Glad to report that the shrunken heads are still in pride of place.

Apparently the new Cornerstone Arts Centre in Didcot is great, and you've got free parking.

There's not enough letters from Angry of Abingdon types in the Oxford Times though, I'm considering reverting to the Abingdon Herald for even more local colour.

Duchess said...

There's the railway museum in Didcot...

The Poet Laura-eate said...

Steve, hopefully they are not that desperate for exhibits!

Pringle cardies, Nota Bene. Know your limits. There should be a public information film.

Sagittarian, I'm partial to a Jolly Roger myself. Alas I've only seen one in a teacup lately.

Rol, how could they overlook a loophole like that! All the best with your Rocket Man adventures!

JamaGenie - Thanks for dropping by! And thanks for the capital suggestion re Future Generations. I will reciprocate again soon.

WWW 'unauthorised golf' is indeed the nearest that sport is going to get to interesting! And then they go and ban it!

OMG Kaz - I thought 'Madchester' was just a joke - sounds like it's becoming a reality! Poor you. Someone needs to start sticking up for the rights of adults.

Hi Annabel, Great to hear my Great Uncle Augustus is still among the Tsantsa exhibits at the Pitt Riverts (missionary - they ate him!). Angy of Abingdon - bring it on I say. Free parking in Didcot - well if that doesn't charm the tourists from the planes...

Duchess - dear me. You are right. I will have to pay a visit forthwith. Anywhere near the free parking, do you know? ;-)

teeni said...

I loved reading your responses to these. Just what I needed for a bit of cheer today. :)

Dan said...

Haven't you heard about the guerilla golfers? The ones who skulk around, clubs concealed, only to leap onto anything resembling turf so as to insert a tee and promptly thwack a ball from it?

A growing menace.