What Day?


Obviously, I'm one of that small band of independantly minded souls who refuse to indulge American greeting card companies in their manipulative attempts to create an air of synthetic romance on what would otherwise be a dull and dreary February day, when their greeting card sales would, and should, be at an annual low.

"Every day is Valentine's Day in this marriage," is my fortifying cry at home although Mrs Flashbang grumbling something about, "every day's bloody D-Day," is hardly in the spirit of my stand for emancipation from erzatz Americana tradition.

I did make an abortive attempt one year to join the masses and booked a table locally, only to find out that she was hopeless at snooker.

Oddly enough though, Mrs Flashbang does in fact comes from a long line of free thinking women. One of her forbears, the pioneering feminist, Emmeline Pankhurst, campaigned noisily in 1911 for women's rights outside Parliament every day from 4 o'clock in the afternoon. She would have got there earlier but she always had a stack of ironing to get through first.