They were dancing in the street the night I celebrated my birthday last week — the one, I hasten to add, in no way connected with the other.
But the Oxford City Morris Men, who had been doing their stuff outside the Rose and Crown in North Parade Avenue on Wednesday night, did obligingly sing for me later.
They led a chorus of Happy Birthday To You, to which all present in the back bar of the pub lustily contributed.
This came as a complete surprise to the honorand who was unaware that any, save Rosemarie, had been aware of his having reached another depressing milepost on the journey to meet his Maker. She, I discovered, had conveyed the nature of our evening outing — it focused on dinner around the corner at Gee’s — to the pub’s famously flamboyant host, Andrew Hall. (Wondering whether ‘flamboyant’ was quite le mot juste, I consulted my Penguin dictionary. “Given to dashing display or ostentatious exuberance.” It was!)
Andrew obligingly uncorked the fizz and arranged for the surprise appearance behind the bar (through the back entrance) of my serenaders. Much laughter ensued, as the photograph above shows. It was taken by Rosemarie, the generous financial sponsor of my birthday treat.
Especially generous, because she is still cross with me for referring to her as “a drinker” in a recent restaurant review. “Beer-drinker,” she insisted, indicating that an apology would be in order. Here it is.
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