Lessons from guitars, motorcycles and the truth about wristwatches…
Listen, I’m no Sturgeonista, but could the claims by Scotland’s former First Minister that she didn’t know about the multifarious and massively expensive purchases her husband made…be pretty much true? Two very well-paid individuals with no joint account, living often-divergent lives? I mean, marriages can hide a multitude of sins and…acquisitions. Some examples:
Married men with motorbikes, m’lud: I’m speaking, uh, theoretically here, of course. First, the wife probably doesn’t like the very idea of motorcycle ownership, so some form of subterfuge may be necessary from the start (“it’s an appreciating classic…a memory of my youth…really, I just tinker with it, polish the tank, make sure it’s running OK…Big Jim’s letting me use his garage…”). And nothing more is said, while in the rented container/factory unit/yard that is ‘Big Jim’s garage’ a collection gradually accrues: Yamaha RD400, Honda Monkey Bike, Kawasaki ZZR1100, Fireblade, Harley Sportster…Fat Boy, Rocket 3, Ducati Monster…
Saturday afternoon rideouts , the occasional ‘lads’ weekend’…only the broken leg from a spill in the Glengoyne Distillery car park leads to discovery.
OK, PM was no biker. He liked cars, clearly. But for a non-driving partner, the difference between a Jag i-Pace and a VW Golf is surely negligible. These days, all cars look the same.
So…Married men and prestige watches? Bremonts , Rolexes, Omegas, Breitlings?
No woman cares or has ever cared what watch a man’s wearing.
Married men and guitars? Not that PM ever strummed or picked but there are lessons to be learned. I have heard of, err…individuals who claim:
“One out, one in.” (The Ibanez is in the loft, the Fender’s in the living room)
“I’ve had that Gibson for ages.” (Traded in Epiphone copy for the real thing)
“I needed a 12-string/Dobro/semi-acoustic/tenor/Les Paul/Strat.”
“It’s an appreciating asset.”
“That Lowden? Swopped the old Eko for it.”
Married men and coffee making machines? Our kitchen currently sports seven different coffee-making methods, including a semi-pro Rancilio espresso maker and separate Rocky burr grinder. With doser. Susan loves coffee but as long as her flat white (no crema art) arrives five times a day, she doesn’t care how it happens.
The motorhome? I admit, that’s hard to ignore, parked on your maw’s driveway. But hey, campaign/business expense. Complete with invoice.
All the other stuff: pepper grinders, pencil sharpeners, Sloggi underpants, pens. Very expensive versions of things that can also be bought cheaply. Small enough to have delivered to friends and family or opened before breakfast, packaging recycled. Or, darling, you don’t think I’d buy real Lalique/Montblanc/Sloggi? Bargain fakes, cause that’s the kinda sneaky fun guy I am…as for that Moleskine Booklight, sweetheart, you do need to read a lot…and we needed those laundry baskets.
Because in the end, all men are liars, to quote the great Nick Lowe, and that’s the truth.
“All the ones not choking on the words they ate
Are sweating on getting their stories straight…”
Maybe she didn’t know/notice. She was busy, after all. But he was spending SNP cash on himself and her. Should she have?
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