For the past months, Mr Reginald Parker-Holmes of the BBC has interviewed quaint and unusual characters to be found in New Zealand; most of them unknown outside of their own districts. In a few weeks’ time, these interviews would be broadcast in Great Britain to an audience of one million who have come to appreciate the direct but honest style of Parker-Holmes. One morning, Parker-Holmes’ character was Mr Gordon Asper, a practical down-to-earth man who preferred to be known simply as ‘Gasper’.
Whilst listening to the interview, it was soon clear that aged but robust Gasper had a wicked sense of humour, and needed it, as a resident of the Pukerimu Sunburst Home. Gasper explained that the correct name for the home was Pukerimu Sunnyside Home. That was true at one time, he said, but several six-story blocks of apartments had risen around the home over the past years severely restricting the view. All they get now is a quick burst of sunshine between 7am and 7.15am in early summer, and a permanent view of the mud bank bordering the Moanatua swamp, surrounding the home on three sides; an effective barrier in keeping the inmates safe from outside molesters and outside molesters safe from the inmates.
One foggy morning as Gasper surveyed the devastation of his fellow inmates consuming breakfast his gaze wandered over to the swamp and he decided at that moment to elect himself as Honorary Swamp Watcher. It was either do that or go as do lally as those around him, he explained to Parker-Holmes. A short time later, after watching a TV programme about beauty products for women he felt the urge to improve the looks of the home residents. And bless his heart, he began with himself. He'd noticed that fish and other aquatics infesting the swamp all had splendid outer coverings. As far as he could see they had little of the frumpy greyness looking back at him from his mirror each day. The aquatic creatures also had plenty of get up and go, an important factor as far as Gasper was concerned, and he decided to use these creatures to create beauty-aid products to sell to those who truly needed them, or even to his fellow residents.
He discussed this with Bert Simpson, a local herbalist who also dabbled in ‘buck-ups for the down-hearted’ in his local shop. ‘My products don't work for everybody,’ Bert explained. ‘I tried this one last month and it gave me wind.’ Still, Bert was a mine of information and solved Gasper's advertising problem by giving him free space on his shop notice board. In no time at all Gasper's name was known as being up with the times when it came to the use of natural products as an aid to beauty; though only with the hoi polloi it must be stressed. (As for the other polloi, they'll have nothing to do with anything connected to modern DIY facials, waist-ials, bust-ials or rump-ials.) Of course the local residents got first dibs on his trial products too, which made for some elevated heart rates.
Gasper was able to collect a fair assortment of natural products lying around the paddocks, river bank and the swamp, and his little enterprise was up and running in no time. The local dairy supplied him with empty plastic ice-cream boxes and small plastic spoons, sterilised overnight by immersion in his home-brew.
His first product was the Moanatua mud-pack, and it didn't need trialling, Gasper felt. His boots, covered in the stuff for twelve months of the year were as soft as a baby's bottom. He borrowed the food-processor from the pot-walloper at the Home’s kitchen, gave the mud a quick burst through that and it came out all smooth and creamy. He placed a few samples on a table at lunchtime. Mrs Fitzwhirler who didn't see too well, came along, spread it on her bread and cheese, and by afternoon tea was banging away on the piano and leading the rest in songs and choruses from the old music hall days. She followed that with a fair imitation of ‘Knees Up Mother Brown’ that would have seen her booked for the Follies Bergère for the whole summer, had an agent been there to see it. Apparently, a visit to the toilet had given her innards as a good a spring clean as you can get at 90 plus. Needless to say the rest of Gasper's samples were snapped up…with his nibs all smiles, reminding us all that a little culture goes a long way in the beauty game.
It was around this time that Gwendy appeared, or re-appeared I should say, and got in on the game with his new enterprise that had been set up in a spare utility room at the Pukerimu Sunnyside Home. Their long time on-and-off relationship had begun as far back as the end of World War Two and was soon rekindled. Working gaily together, their DIY treatment soon developed into a thriving industry within a few weeks. They even called on the lady down the corridor to help with the packaging but they found it difficult to get her attention as she sat motionless in her rocking-chair. Sad to say she'd been deceased for some time, and it was too late for her to earn a little extra with a free beauty pack thrown in, but it did clear up where the strange smell had come from.
Gasper and Gwendy were among the first to recognise the merits of using the fresh water stream running by the side of their shack. A pity they weren't too keen on hygiene, but when they came to have their twice-a-year skinny-dipping they came out with a truly glowing complexion all over, especially when the moon was full. This was mostly due to the heavy concentration of unmentionable waste products from a nearby hippie commune, and the water tended to stain everything a rather ghastly shade of green, with a fluorescent tinge. Though it proved non-beneficial as an ingredient for toothpaste, one washing did keep mosquitoes well out of zzz-ing range for the rest of their flying season. Strangely, the product sold better to Eskimos in Canada's frozen regions than locally. They appreciated the glow-in-the-dark aspect it gave their skin, making it safer to travel by night when anyone wearing nothing but a smile could be seen for miles.
Gasper by now was a guaranteed success, ably supported by the ever enterprising Gwendy and his fellow residents who were grateful for a distraction from their own swamp watching and grim reaper waiting.
***
A
rather surprising turn of events occurred when Reginald Parker-Holmes
caught the eye of Mrs Fitzwhirler whilst on his interviewing visit to
the Pukerimu Sunnyside Home. She, keen to improve her diction to
BBC-plum-in-the-mouth standard, slipped a cocktail of her dandelion
home-brew into a drink she handed to him during their evening soirée,
after lights out on the second to last day of his BBC interview. Mr
Parker-Holmes temporarily lost his stuffy Pommie accent but gained a
stunning collection of anecdotes which were to set him right for a
winning series at the BBC not long after. As for Gasper and Gwendy, I
understand that certain gases from the swamp have raised the IQ of each
member of the Pukerimu Sunnyside Home, and they continue to glow more
and more brightly with the collection of products they continue to
produce.Dennis Crompton © 1997
(first published www.denniscrompton.wordpress.com 2013)
No comments:
Post a Comment