Solicitor has just sent an iTelegram confirming that I have been awarded a C.S.O. in the New Year Lists!
Apparently I have to attend an official ceremony. I assume that whereas for Knighthoods and so forth one goes down on one knee and is tapped on the shoulders by Her Majesty, for a C.S.O. one stands on one leg, slowly extends one's chosen ankle, draws up the trouser and The Queen straps on the ceremonial bracelet of office, or something. No doubt it's all shrouded in ancient ceremonial and history.
I shall have to buy new socks and sock-suspenders. Should I shave my leg, do you think, or wax - and how far up do I need to go? What if I start to wobble and get the giggles while I have my leg extended? Is it acceptable to brace oneself against Her Majesty while she uses the Court Pliers to twist the wires of the Official Seal together? So many questions, so little time! So few answers in the Court Brochure!
One hopes that there will be time for a chat and a quick snog with Her Majesty afterwards, and probably some sort of silk-lined presentation box to take the ankle-tag home in. Must check with the Expenses Committee of The House about subsidies for getting all of my various business cards re-printed with the C.S.O. after my name - there's bound to be something from the EU. If not then I'll just put it down under "Miscellaneous" and get them to smudge the VAT receipt.
So, splendid end to 2012 or what eh? I'm tickled pink.
Tortte (Senior) of Messrs Tortte, Tortte, Whipllashe, Malffeasance & Tortte (Deceased) says that he'll explain it all to me if I meet him at Marylebone Station in a couple of hours. Oddly, he seems to have given me directions to Marylebone Police Station, not the Railway Station, and he has asked me to wear a "high visibility vest". Possibly been drinkin' again.
Hugh-visibility vest eh? Well it is winter and it must be some sort of ancient custom, I suppose, so I'm goin' with a starched Marks & Spencers' winter-weight white coarse string vest from the "David Beckham" label range and just wearin' it off the shoulder but over the cummerbund - don't want to get in the way of my medal. I suppose that if it gets too warm I can always slip my shirt off from underneath or lose the morning coat.
I just knew that this was goin' to be my year!
Sir Owl Wood C.S.O.
Has a ring to it, don't you think?
I wonder what the initials stand for?
Damned excited, I don't mind tellin' you, to see who else is there and bein' awarded what! I expect that it will be stuffed with folk from Who's Whom & Why. Splendid. I wonder what I got it for?
[Nanny, the miserable old wag, suggests that it may simply be some sort of "Community Service Order" imposed for egging the Duch & Such of Cambridge last month. What nonsense!]
Good Lord, trust you to turn things around! So you impressed the police so much, the Chief Cuntstable recommended you for the award of the office of Community Support Officer!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations! I shall lift a glass to you tonight, Sir!
Oh my goodness me, I do hope not - I just don't look good in sensible shoes and working-class situations. Never have, never will.
DeleteI was hoping more for a Companion of the Sozzled Order, or possibly a Carrier of Several Odours or something.
I've decided to shave right up to the knee; for the press photographs.
I am lifting glasses as we speak. Houseboys are on strike. Can you believe the audacity?
DeleteBTW, I have a CSO too. Don't talk about it much and I rarely use the title, unless I want a table at Clarence House.
Houseboys on strike? I blame the Mayans. Have you tried thrashing one in front of all of the others? A houseboy, that is, there's little point in flogging a Mayan these days.
DeleteI remember once in Poonah in '43, might have been '44, all of the indoor staff went on strike - had to call in the Army of course, but they were damnably clumsy, no idea of silver service and their boots played havoc with the hardwood parquet. Ashamed to relate that I caved in and began paying them. Still, one does what one can with what one has. We kept the Sergeant-Major on, he was awfully good at announcing arrivals and meals, although we keep him barefoot in the house of course.
I see what you mean. I thought a CSO provided support to the police so it would be you on the other side of the bars for a change hosing the natives down. Chief CSOs, I understood, were issued with their own Cat O' Nine Tails.
ReplyDeleteI must have confused England with a more civilised country.
My tailor has banned me from the Police - he says that blue serge and black boots make me look like Kenneth Williams during his brief "Uniformed" phase. I quite like the little pocket-whistle though, and the Taser - I'm very tempted to get myself a Taser. Saw one used to great effect once on a Traffic Warden, joined the queue to have a go myself and, quite frankly, I was hooked. I wonder if I could have the elephant gun adapted? What sort of batteries do you think it would need?
DeleteIs it maaaam as in spaaaaam?
ReplyDeleteOh I am buggered if I know
I only know it's "yer oil eyeness" if I wants to keep me 'ead on me shoulders. Talkin' of which, I must put shampoo on the shopping list.
DeleteHappy New Year Sir!
I am awestruck at the awesome bestowment of this honor. Who knows where this title will lead in your future endeavors? It will surely open doors for you all over the kingdom. Please provide pictures of The Lord High Mayor giving you a big hug!
ReplyDeleteIt was a peculiar ceremony Ms Sparrow - two burly policemen held me down while someone from Group 4 Security Services Ltd photographed me and bolted a smal satellite dish to my ankle. Apparently one of the traditions is that I am not allowed to step beyond the boundaries of Owl Towers unless I'm picking litter in Tower Hamlets. All very odd indeed and I didn't get to meet Her Maj either. Ho hum.
DeleteI was offered a CSO once, but turned it down. 'Companionship of the Soiled Orifice' indeed; I told them where they could stuff it!
ReplyDeleteTo be honest I was of a similar mind, but it can be awfully difficult to say 'thank you, no' to Group 4 Security once they have you in a headlock.
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