There has been of late considerable discussion in that "other group"
regarding the nature of Boylove ...
There have been psychological studies, manifestos, postion papers and
sweeping statements regarding the intricacy of the phenomena, both to
defend and to revile it.
It is all bollocks to me, you see.
Contrary to some advice I just received from a close friend, tho' I'll
not name Teddy, I would like to advance an idea or two regarding that
here, if not for the benefit of the very civil Magnolia, then for the
edification [or the hope thereof] of Mr. Leyland.
Some time ago, I was strolling along Vernon, coming back from the
Rotunda and giving the neighborhood a gander, just to get out. It was
one of those dreary days ... generally clammy and overcast, spotty fog
rolling in and out ... some sun occassionally filtering unconvincingly
down ... and the mood of the weather and the town was my own mood
inside ... lonely and dejected and weary. I have always been
celebate, you see ... a real Mr. Chipping I suppose ... and it
weighted on me particularly harshly that morning.
As I walked, I noticed through the mists a school boy of ten or eleven
years standing along the road, as if waiting for a bus. Of course, he
immediately caught my attention. A chubby little fellow but not
overly so, he had a head of tossled chesnut hair, a scattering of
freckles about the nose ... a nose a bit too small and immature for
his face perhaps, but delicately formed. He was the perfect
representation of the British schoolboy. The poor lad even had on
those dreadful pants that were once seemingly required of all
schoolboys ... I recall now they were a tad too small for him ... and
on such a chilly morn indeed! He looked very much the picture of
misery that I myself felt.
I naturally approached him through the drizzle to pass by, as we
shared the walkway and I offered a rather unenthusiastic "hello" as I
came up to him.
"Hello." I said.
The boy looked up at me and beamed a warming and sincere smile and,
without hestitation, replied, "Hi!" As if he were thrilled to have me
notice his existence.
I smiled and walked on. At that moment all my darkness and gloom was
swept away and my spirit soared. Truly, from that second I was
secretly elated that such perfect boy would notice MY existence. And
I was happy all that day, despite the weather.
After I had moved down the street a distance, I dared to glance back
once at him, still standing at the curb side. I never saw the lad
again.
That is Boylove.
Cheer to you all.
VV
God Save Her Majesty the Queen.
God Preserve the Prince of Wales.
Rule Britannia!
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