July 10, 2000
Those readers who follow one's weekly safari into the jungles of bad manners wielding the machete of impeccable breeding know that one is loath to speak much of oneself. A lack of modesty is a lack of decorum. Unlike other pundits who utilize their forums to natter on endlessly about their personal lives, their families, and their homes, readers expect more from Sir Charles Grandiose. And Sir Charles Grandiose delivers.
However, the self-same readers might also realise that one has a number of pursuits dedicated to the higher glory of man (and coincidentally, the expansion of the Grandiose family purse). Speaking of them is more in the realms of public service than base self-promotion.
For example, one's readers may know that one runs a yearly summer camp for young boys, the Sir Charles Grandiose Summer Camp for Unbelievably Mighty Male Youth. Or as we like to call it, Camp SCUMMY. This elite and well-bred legion of young men gathers yearly in a hidden enclave in the Lake District to socialize and enjoy sport with other boys of similar background and breeding. Yet those of us in charge of this gay and carefree summer camp have always felt that it would be appropriate for the boys to learn something of what it is to represent the aristocracy in today's world. Some of our youth think that being a Baronet or a Duke or and Earl is nothing but rugger and fox-hunting. It is not. It is ninety percent rugger and fox-hunting, but the remaining ten percent of the time we spend in serious pursuits.
To this end we this year at Camp SCUMMY have instituted a number of elective courses designed to hone the boys' skill in these pursuits. We expect that the addition of these courses will also encourage more titled families to send their boys to us. After all, the fee for an entire month of fun and freedom (from the children, for the parents, we mean) is a mere twenty thousand guineas.
Elective Course Number One: Lessons in Industry
Elective Course Number Two: Lessons in Endurance
Elective Course Number Three: Lessons in Science
Yes, Industry, Endurance, and Science. The three foundations upon which the Modern Peer firmly stands. And oh, what fun the kiddies will have. Won't yours join them?.
Taking a moment to turn down a dinner invitation from the
Earl of Ruckham, one remains for yet another week,
Is E.S.P. real? What do you think? I'm curious for the educated opinion.
Open to the Spirit World
Sir Charles replies:
My dear girl,
Curious that you ask. One is a firm believer in the psychic realms. Oh, one scoffed before. But recently one had an experience that simply astounded one.
It was a rainy afternoon. One took refuge in the dairy, but as one was soaked, one removed all one's clothing so that it could dry. Suddenly a pretty milkmaid stepped into the barn. Naturally conscious of one's state, and wishing to remain modest, one picked up a nearby bucket and arranged it over one's more private parts. The milkmaid, however, screamed, and kept screaming as she stared at the bucket.
As ill luck would have it, the Lady Felicia stepped into the milk barn at that very moment. With arms crossed and a wry look on her lips, she stared first at the milkmaid, and then at oneself.
"My dear," I sputtered, in an attempt to explain.
She, however, silenced me with a raised hand. "I can read minds, you know," she told me, her tone flown in at great expense from the land of penguins and baby seals.
"Wh-wh-whatever do you mean, my dear?" I asked. "How in the world could you know what I was thinking?"
She pursed her lips. "To begin with, husband, I know for a certainty that you think the bucket you are so desperately clutching to your mid-section has a bottom to it."
Amazed at her prescience, one remains,
well my freind was writing in anotheer freinds webpage and
what he was putting was isnt good....and i asked him if i could
type and then he told me what to type and i did it for him i
typed everything he told me to put.....and when my freind was
reading it her mom saw it and printed it out and sent it to the
boys house and is going to show my mom tonight....and i need
some good advice thats i can say not to get into troubl at all
cuz if i say i didnt do it there going to call his parents and
talk to him so whats something i can say that wont get me in
to trouble that much........like and excuse like was putting
only what he told me to put.....i need ur advice
Sir Charles replies:
No doubt you all expect Sir Charles Grandiose to respond to this letter with a grand riposte. "Oh, go on, do!" you all cry. "Tell us about how when you were a lad and went to the coconut-shy at the church fete the coconut shells made a ripe plonk! noise that no doubt sounded just as this fellow's head might were you to toss an India rubber ball at it. Or, Sir Charles, tell us how you once knew a fellow in the town of Dumbston-on-Dumbington how had been born mute and later lost his tongue in a wild donkey accident and then had his vocal cords removed by a lynx, and how even he wasn't as dumb as this Chris fellow. We know you're tempted. Admit it."
But no, readers. You are witnessing the birth of a kindler, gentler Sir Charles Grandiose. A grandfatherly Sir Charles Grandiose. The sort of fellow who solves a problem with a wink and a smile, and a butterscotch candy afterwards.
Oh, hang it all. One will start with that nonsense next week. As for this reader, one suspects that if you held his head to your ear, you could hear the sound of the waves under the Brighton pier.
Returning to one's crusty old codger self, one remains,
Dear Sir Charles,
Student of Genealogy
Sir Charles replies:
Sir Wilifred Hughes-Humphries, eh? Ever so sorry to say that one can't help. But the face rings a bell.
Regretfully, one remains,