CRAIG BROWN: Harry, Megs and a memoir in Moping
Out on a long hike, I reached the ancient market town of Moping. Moping nestles in a dark valley in the Doldrums and is twinned with the German city of Funk and the Polish city of Strop.
‘Moping,’ reads the sign that greets you on the outskirts, ‘You’re Welcome To It.’
By chance, the townsfolk of Moping were out in force on the day of my arrival, as it was their annual Moping Together Day, described on Wikipedia as ‘a time when everyone in Moping comes together to exchange grumbles about their various ailments, and to join forces as a community in recognition of the fact that things aren’t what they used to be’.
I arrived in the main square just as the Town Crier began to cry.
Word from ‘friends close to the duchess’ has it that she was ‘upset and deeply hurt’ after finding that a chocolate mint had not been left on her hotel pillow
‘He thinks he’s got problems,’ muttered a scowling person next to me. ‘He only got the job because they felt sorry for him, what with his bad back, his in-growing toenail, his childhood traumas involving his school uniform being too small. But what about the rest of us?
‘Last week, I discovered the milk was off just after I’d poured it all over my cereal. Why do these things always happen to me?’
After wiping away his tears and blowing his nose to the tune of John Lennon’s Working Class Hero, the Town Crier rang his bell.
‘Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!’ he yelled. ‘Today is Moping Together Day, when the people of this town gather to celebrate the fact that everything is only going to get worse.’
the Duke and Duchess of Sussex took a suite in The Dunn Inn in the neighbouring village of High Dudgeon while the duke wrote his forthcoming memoir
There followed a string of performances to prove his point, kicking off with the choir of the British Transport Police singing 50 choruses of their anthem, See It, Say It, Sorted. After that, a fashionable comedian, born in the nearby market town of Down-in-the-Dumps, sloped on stage to deliver a monologue on everything that went wrong in his miserable childhood, miserable adolescence and consequent miserable youth.
He told us that just as things had started to go right for him, he had been given the shattering news that his planning application for an underground car park, gymnasium, solarium and temperature-controlled wine cellar at his £15 million mansion in London’s Holland Park had been turned down.
Next up was a Pink Floyd tribute band playing their classic Another Brick In The Wall, followed by a video from local lad James Corden, speaking live from his luxury penthouse in Manhattan about how no one had warned him of the crippling pressures of fame.
The show ended with a personal appearance by local hero Katie Price, reading an extract from her most recent memoir, Hitting Rock Bottom (her 22nd), in which she tells the heart-rending story of the day her washing machine broke, her boyfriend ran off with her PR, her sound system went on the blink, her Nan discovered a ladder in her tights and the man at the Jaguar showroom rang to say the convertible she’d ordered wouldn’t be ready until the afternoon.
Moping Together Day ended with the annual aerial display by The Blue Devils, three decrepit airplanes piloted by the town’s most embittered residents. As they flew over, one half of the town chorused that they were flying too low, while the others chanted that they were making far too much noise. The planes left a long, black trail of toxic smoke behind them, spelling out the message: ‘Not a word of thanks.’
As people filed away, complaining that it wasn’t as good as last year, I read the Information Board with interest. It seems that the singer Morrissey had been inspired to compose Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now while staying in Moping, and that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex took a suite in The Dunn Inn in the neighbouring village of High Dudgeon while the duke wrote his forthcoming memoir.
Word from ‘friends close to the duchess’ has it that she was ‘upset and deeply hurt’ after finding that a chocolate mint had not been left on her hotel pillow, though thankfully she is ‘struggling day and night to heal my wounds, not only for myself, but for everyone on this fragile planet of ours’.
Meanwhile, the duke feels ‘wounded and betrayed’ that not once during his stay had he been invited to be Hotel Manager.
To be continued . . .
Source: Read Full Article