Deboxification video: Not going to happen

My new baseball cap has arrived. Perhaps I should have put an “unboxing” video on YouTube. I have seen there are all sorts of unboxing videos. I don’t know why. I can understand reviewing something, that makes sense: “Look, here’s this thing I bought, this is how it works”. Fine. Or: “Look, here’s this thing I bought. As soon as I turn it on, the flange capacitor overheats.” Informative. But I don’t want to see you taking something out of its packaging. I am a high powered, go-getter, I haven’t got the time or inclination to watch people taking things out of boxes. Come on. Surely the pleasure is for the unboxer themselves. I get no vicarious thrill watching someone else deboxifying.

So. If you want the excitement of watching me unwrapping my new cap, you’ll just have to recreate the moment for yourself. If you wish to do so, I need to point out that said cap did not actually come in a box but in a grey plastic bag. Please be as accurate as you can when videoing the “unbagging”. I suggest getting a professional actor to play my part. Bruce Willis possibly. His baldness will be a good match for mine. I’ve never heard him do a British accent. You’ll probably need to get him to read the part first just to check he’s okay. I was once told my accent is rather like Baldric from Blackadder, so you might try Tony Robinson. Who is probably cheaper than Mr Willis. And I’ll need a credit as Executive Producer. And a cut of the profits. There must be profits, after all.

But now I must wrestle with the heart-wrenching prospect of throwing away my old cap. This particular one was already designated as on-its-way-out some years ago but was reinstated. It’s grey and misshapen. Much like myself.

In fact, my new cap is already a little misshapen. I can’t seem to find one that doesn’t collapse but also isn’t ridiculously tall – you know, the kind worn by those jolly rapper people.


I am currently in Welwyn Garden City. It is aptly named. It’s like a city in a garden. Or a garden in a city. Look…


Perhaps I will retire here. But maybe when you come to live in a place, you don’t appreciate it so much. I visited Clacton-on-Sea the other day. I’d like to retire to somewhere near the sea. But again, who knows, perhaps the same will apply – once you live somewhere, you appreciate it less.

Clacton-on-Sea is on the sea. The North Sea. Why do I point out this obvious fact? Because there are places that claim to be on the sea and are not. Last year, I went to Southend-on-Sea. Not too far from Clacton, actually. And when you get there and walk along the seafront, you are aware of a land mass just on the other side of the water, as you look out. Wait, you think. If this is the North Sea then my eyesight must be a lot better than I thought because Norway looks a lot closer than I imagined it would.

But it’s not Norway. It’s Sheerness. “How can that be?” you ask. Because Southend is not on the sea. It’s on the Thames. I came to Southend to see the sea and what do I get? The Thames. I have nothing against the Thames. I have nothing against the fine town of Southend. But on the sea, it is not. It’s close. I’m sure if you ignore the large land mass on the other side of the water, and turn your gaze eastwards, you will spot the North Sea somewhere in the distance. But it really needs to be called Southend-on-Thames or Southend-quite-close-but-not-exactly-on-Sea.

It’s a matter of factual accuracy, that’s all.


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