The Sign Zone...

Austin Knight ~ A talent to amuse...

A taxi driver writes...

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last fare of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.


After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no ornaments or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

 'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the kerb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.' 'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.'

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. 'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighbourhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the boot and took the small suitcase to the door.

The lady was already seated in a wheelchair. 'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.' I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the fare, or had beeped once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

 But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL. 

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.


















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The Stir-Crazy Scenario Continues....

                                                       

Now that restrictions have been eased and we’re allowed to meet up to six people, the seven dwarves were absolutely delighted. However, one of them wasn’t Happy.

In order to alleviate the lockdown monotony, when you take the missus to Tesco to do the weekly shop, remember to take a pad of post it notes with you and write: ‘VERY SORRY FOR THE DAMAGE’ then stick them on random windscreens and watch the folk coming out looking for the prang on their vehicle. Hours of chortles and entertainment free!



I’ve become so befuddled during this lockdown lark that I’ve resorted to sending my next-door neighbour Barmy Albert a dozen red roses every Friday, together with a card saying ‘I Miss You xxx’, just so I can sit in the garden with a beer and listen to Non-Stick Nora giving him the third degree...

                                     

What will be the first thing you do when this dreadful situation is all over? Will you join Alcoholics Anonymous or have a gastric band fitted, or maybe both? Furthermore, if you could wave a magic wand and totally make COVID 19 vanish completely over the entire United Kingdom, but in exchange, you had to get rid of one city, would you agree to this and why would you choose Liverpool?

                                   

Cummings, Johnson, Hancock. They’re all names that could be from Carry On filums. Oooh Matron! Carry on Covid!



I am so quarantine stir-crazy that I’m beginning to think that the light of my life is the one in the fridge.



Apparently, this pandemic farrago is akin to Mount Rushmore, prior to it being originally carved. It’s unpresidented!



It is indeed an epiphany for showbiz in general. Witnessing the entertainment industry slithering into meltdown, accords a grim realisation that I may never be able to do a live gig ever again this year. Personally, I’ve been a pro comic since 1973 and have enjoyed making folk chortle for many years, albeit having to hop onto a different bandwagon every decade, when one manner of presentation becomes obsolete, only to be replaced by a fresh genre. I’ve had some awesome experiences and been most fortunate to meet copious icons of the theatrical and sporting world that I otherwise would only have appreciated from a far pavilion. I’ve gigged when I’ve been unwell or had personal disasters, bereavements and many are the times, I’ve made 500 blokes in a rugby club audience laugh when I’ve been shattered within. It’s an occupation that one doesn’t treat as gainful employment, because it’s primarily a way of life, permeating through your DNA. It’s impossible to arrive back from a show and then just forget the event until the next outing. Entertainers live and breathe what they do and are constantly striving to improve with every performance. We rehearse constantly until slickness is attained in both timing and presentation. I’ll spend hours going over scripts and learning lines. Finally, in due course if we ever manage to rid ourselves of this appalling and malicious COVID 19 malady, then make every endeavour to show your support by going to clubs, sporting dinners, theatres, hotels and comedy clubs or whatever form of entertainment that presents itself.

                                           

The COVID 19 Quiz!

                                          

                                                   
What I’d like to know is why the government can put a protective ring around the twisted fire starter that is Dominic Cummings, but they can’t do the same around care homes?

        

                                         

The eventual outcome of the following conversation did not end well: Wife: “Have I got fat during this quarantine lark?” Husband: “Well, you weren't really that skinny to begin with!” Time of death 10:05pm Cause of death: Covid 19 – Husband 0.

One has to exercise extreme caution and tact when discussing such delicate matters with the missus. I sez to her: “You’ve put on a bit of weight, during lockdown.” She replied: “Tell me summat that I don’t know!” I sez: “Salad tastes nice!” That’s when the fight started!

Breaking News: 157 deaths from COVID 19 in Chicago, USA were complicated by bullet holes. The concrete boots were deemed a a further underlying issue...

I’ve become so befuddled during this lockdown lark that I’ve resorted to sending my next-door neighbour Barmy Albert a dozen red roses every Friday, together with a card saying ‘I Miss You xxx’, just so I can sit in the garden with a beer and listen to Non-Stick Nora giving him the third degree...


                                             

I must admit that I’m wholly impressed at just how smart this Corona virus gubbins really is. For example: It doesn't contaminate you at all major supermarkets, but it will definitely infect you at Wetherspoons, McDonalds, hair and nail salons, restaurants, bars and any other small businesses. Tricky little devil innit!. It's just been on the news that this Coronavirus attacks the poorest in society first. This virus is so clever, it even knows you’re skint! I’m broke, but posh skint. I’m baroque! Fascinating!

                             

Nicola Sturgeon has ensured that lockdown rules are more stringent north of the border. I’ve just heard that Scottish duo The Proclaimers have been fined for not adhering to daily exercise limits and exceeding government guidelines. Walking 500 miles and then 500 more is deemed excessive!

Moreover, PMQ’s is becoming a veritable sight to behold. Priti Patel announced that she had some good news to announce, namely that during the lockdown, figures for shoplifting, burglary and car crime are well down. Could this be because all the shops are shuttered, everyone is confined to barracks at home and nobody is driving anywhere?



                                                                   

One of the few highlights of lockdown was the new series of ‘Who Wants To Be A Millionaire’ where that bloke won a cool half million. What they didn’t show was my next-door neighbour Barmy Albert who managed to get on, but unfortunately was so intellectually inept that he couldn’t get past his first £100 question! Jeremy Clarkson curtly informed him that he would have to use up a lifeline. Albert agreed to phone a friend, who it turned out was Non-Stick Nora. Jeremy sez: “You have 30 seconds, starting now!” Nora replied “I understand you have a question for me. What is it?” Albert replied: “Should I go 50/50, or ask the audience!”

If you don't do anything else today, be sure to tell someone about the hilarious comic Austin Knight and this craze-ridden newspaper column! Spread the gospel around the local pub, the lap dancing bar, the dole office, on the train coming back from community service, on the bus returning from visiting your probation officer, and at 30,000 leagues beneath the sea. Okay, forget about the underwater gubbins but do all the rest, that's an order! Visit my website too! www.ComedianUK.com You can email me: comedianuk@sky.com

We live in strange times....

                                                       

 Ensuring that you’re observing social distancing rules and not travelling out of your designated area: If you go down to the woods today, today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic. Providing they all live in the same household that is! 

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. For instance, had I known in March that this was the last time I’d be dining in a restaurant for a considerable period, then I definitely would have ordered the dessert....



We live in strange times. Now you can’t go into a bank, unless you’re wearing a mask!



Some years ago my brother in law was sent to jail. He didn't take it very well and refused to speak to any of his immediate family. He refused all offers of food and drink and swore and insulted anyone who came near him and partook in disgusting behaviour that became intolerable in any family environment. Now, during lockdown we will always refuse to play Monopoly with him ever again.


                                                                             

Bored during self-isolation? Why not phone up a women’s rights groups and ask to speak to the bloke in charge.



People not observing social distancing? If you're sitting in public and a total stranger takes the seat next to you, just stare straight ahead and say, "Did you bring the money?"

This blind bloke with a guide dog and a rough looking blonde (albeit with a black parting) harridan on his arm stopped me in Manchester City Centre, yesterday. He asked me if I was Korean. When I told him I wasn’t,  he sez:  “Will you mind my dog while I go shag this prostitute down that back ginnel?”  #bekind



I must admit that I’m wholly impressed at just how smart the Covid 19 really is. For example: It doesn't contaminate you at all major supermarkets, but it sure will get you at Wetherspoons, McDonalds, hair and nail salons, restaurants, bars and any other small businesses.Tricky little devil innit!. It's just been on the news that this Coronavirus attacks the poorest in society first. This virus is so clever, it even knows you’re skint! I’m broke, but posh skint. I’m baroque! Fascinating!

                                                   

I always remember my first ever girlfriend She always smelled of cricket bats. Her name was Lindsey Doyle.



I often wonder if Steve and Dave had formed the band instead of Benny and Björn, would they have called it ASDA? Last time I visited The Trafford Centre, they had a very noisy ABBA tribute band on. They were so loud, you could hear the drums from Nandos.



Gemma Collins: Words cannot describe how talented she is. But numbers can: 0/10...

                                         

Quote of the week: "I can't wait for all the pubs to reopen, so I can drink a lot less." Bob Skupham



Notice to occupants of flats: COVID 19 Precautions. To help with social distancing, please walk on the RIGHT HAND SIDE of the staircase going up and the LEFT HAND SIDE coming down. Thank You. Advice on social distancing rules from a Hyde Housing Association property.





From last Wednesday, Boris has relaxed the rules and you can now play football, but only with members of your own family. Norwich v Ipswich kicks off at 8pm tonight. Furthermore, Garden Centres are now open. Well, I planted my backside on the settee 7 weeks ago and it has grown to magnanimous proportions

L ~ L ~ L Syndrome. Beware of The New Pandemic!

                                                 

I have L-L-L Syndrome. Lockdown Limbo Lunacy. It manifests itself thus: The missus instructs me to paint the kitchenette walls.  As I totter towards the front porch, I notice that there is a brown envelope from DVLA just delivered by the Royal Mail. I open the envelope, and go through the other mail before I start painting. The ladders are in the shed. I lay the shed keys down on the hall table, put the junk mail in the waste bin under the table, and notice it is overflowing. So, I decide to take out the rubbish first.

However, I think, since I’m going to be near the shed when I take out the waste, I may as well get the ladders out, in readiness. I snaffle the shed keys off the table, and notice that they are actually my car keys. The notice from the DVLA reminds me that it needs taxing. Moreover, the shed key is on a hook in the utility room, so I go upstairs to my study and on my desk, I find an unopened bottle of ale that I was going to drink last night. I’m logging on to the DVLA website to tax the car. But first I need to push the beer bottle aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. I see that the beer is warm, and I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to maintain the temperature, because warm lager is undrinkable.

As I lurch toward the scullery with the Carlsberg, a wilting potted plant on the dining room table attracts my attention – it needs to be watered. I plonk the bottle down on the kitchenette worktop, and discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning. I reckon that I’d better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the arid aspidistra. I set the spectacles back down on the worktop and endeavour to fill a jug with water, when I spot the TV remote control nestling by the bread crock.

I decide to put it back in the living room where it belongs, but first I’ll water the plant. I splash some water on the aspidistra, but most of it spills on the mahogany table. So, I put the TV remote back down, get some paper towel and wipe up the spillage. Then I head off down the front path, trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day: the car isn’t taxed, the kitchen remains undecorated, there is a warm bottle of  pilsner languishing on the dining table, the aspidistra is well deceased, I can’t find the TV remote, my reading specs are on the missing list. I cannot recollect what I've done with the car keys. I try to figure out why nowt has got done today, It’s been hectic all day long, and I’m really knackered. I realise this is a serious problem, but I must remember to put the wheelie bin out tonight, because it’s Wednesday… or is it Thursday today?