Monday, 23 August 2010

History of British Mamils

When I was a teenager one of my recurring dreams was to possess a VW Beetle rather than an E-Type or Jag. However, mine would have a specially fitted 3 litre engine underneath the bonnet so at the flick of a switch I could zoom past the E-Types and Jags and they would be flabbergasted that something so ordinary could outclass them. I think that tells you all you need to know about my personality.

My dream came true on another level a few weeks ago. I was just starting to cycle home from the Post Office having unloaded some heavy parcels when a Pelleton of three cyclists cut across my path and headed off in front of me. These weren't just any cyclists, they were two-wheeled 21st Century Gladiators clad in tight fitting shiny lycra with helmets shaped like Concorde and wide sunglasses that reflected each other in metallic Hi-Tech splendour. They must have been in their thirties.

This Techno Trio snaked past me with heads down, tiny bottoms in the air and riding 2 inches from each other in complete synchronisation.

I didn't, however, let them snake off into the distance. I was Mr Cycle Fit after my Coast-to-Coast Mountain Cycling and regular trips to the Post, so I just upped my pedalling and found I was Gladiator Number Four locked on at the back of the Team as we sped through the lanes. They glanced round and the opacity of their metallic shades concealed their blind panic at the sight of this bearded old bloke in scruffy Primark Shorts and T Shirt pedalling along with them on a Mountain Bike which must have cost a fraction of their own gleaming lightweight racers.

Five miles later when I was feeling so incredibly satisfied with myself I could easily have exploded with my own smugness (think Nick Clegg) the Titanium Trio peeled off to the left and left me alone once again. "I've upped my game. Up yours!", I thought to myself.

I was reminded of this high-spot in my life when this article appeared last week about M.A.M.I.L.S. "Middle Aged Men in Lycra".

As "Middle Aged" appears to be 35-44 for these purposes I've been looking for my own acronym. What about "O.B.I.T." (Old Bloke in Taupe) ?


Richard said...

I first heard this acronym a couple of weeks ago on the wireless. For some reason, I immediately thought of you. I mean, I wondered if you'd also heard it. Yes, that's what I meant.

It was in an item on what shop assistants call the public. There was another one used by burger flippers, they call out "cheese alert" or something whenever somebody's being hit on by a punter.

Dave said...

I was going to say what Richard said too.

Sixty-Plus Rag And Bone Man (Sprabman!!)

Macy said...

What about being a G.O.L.Y???
Grandad 'oping for lost youth?

Z said...

I cycled into town on Saturday and overtook two families and a teenager, went into the post office, weighed and posted my parcel, got back on my bike and passed a familiar family. Mother called "didn't you overtake us a few minutes ago?"

Proud Old Woman Exerting Rights in Earsham Street.

Rog said...

Richard: A Cheese-Mamil would be particularly nauseous.

Dave: Sprabman hasn't got the super-hero tinge to it. I need to call my bike Hercules...ah, it already is!

Macy: Thanks for that, I may borrow that to apply to Dave.

Z: Attagirl! Pow!

. said...

I think my acronym should be OBIJTAABTT (old bloke in jeans that are a bit too tight)

Rog said...

Hello Dot. That's also known as S.T.A.T.U.S.Q.U.O. I believe.

Betty said...

Oddly enough, wearing lycra shorts gives M.A.M.I.L.S. male C.A.M.I.L. toe.

Scarlet Blue said...

[f.y.i the last word is knickers]

Rog said...

Betty: That's a euphemism I should imagine.

Scarlet: It the first bit "Fat Bloke"?

Scarlet Blue said...

Fit Bird.