A Cockney and A Kiwi

The other night Megan and I went to the local pub, which we endearingly call the 'Ducky Duck'; mostly due to the fact we had only seen it for a second, we were jet lagged, and I might have had a little too much to drink in business class to not have realized it is actually called 'The Slaughtered Lamb'. Since it is a mere half block from our corporate housing it makes it an exceptionally easy pub to get to and have a jug.

After purchasing two pints with what I later would be told is called a cockle, we sat down on a red leather couch with tears in the back side exposing some white cotton. Were this to exist anywhere but the dimly lit well frequented pub, say in a college apartment, it most certainly would have come from a back alley, however, in this particular instance it only adds to the ambiance of this eclectic bar.  Imbibing the well deserved suds after a long day, a stocky well groomed man with a flat cap (The Cockney) on walked over and sat down opposite us on a grandfather chair exclaiming, 'Cheer up, its almost the weekend!' (it wasn't, it was almost Wednesday, which half way through, is half way through to the weekend; that being said, his enthusiasm almost made me believe it.) Soon after a taller man with what can only be described as 'cool scruff' (you know, well kept, but meant to look not well kept, in that cool sort of way that Megan hates me doing) (The Kiwi) walked over and sat down on a couch. Introduced as Ben and Mike respectively, we started sharing stories of fabled lands and forgotten pasts.

We soon found a bit about Cockney history, whom come from a long line of workers whom grow up on the east side of London and have a particularly interesting lingo. For whatever reason, they have decided that it is a good idea to confuse us uninformed foreigners with words that mean other words through rhyme.  Some of you might recall that in 'Snatch' there is a Cockney who mentions that they are in 'Barney... Barney Rubble... We're in Trouble!!!' Well that's cockney. I am sure that some Anthropologist somewhere has fully documented this, but on this particular evening I got a short history of the Cockney culture, and a longer explanation of what Cockney's both sound and how they ask for money.

It was something that I have always been slightly interested in, and it was fairly interesting to get the explanation directly from a primary source. I have a feeling that if one were to follow my history back to when the Brassfield's came from England, one would find that they were part of this culture.  Why do I say this?  It is because one can't follow the Brassfield's back to England, no Brassfield's ever existed there. They apparently just sort of appeared in the USA at some point. I like to think that its because they got fed up with living as peasants in England during the early 1700's, ripped off the wrong people, and got the hell out of dodge. Also, being that we are fairly certain that Brassfield's came from England, in the late 1600's/ early 1700's, the vast majority of citizens during that period were peasants in England, as well, due to the miserable documentation, they were probably of a class that was not interested, nor anyone interested in documenting. I am not sure when Cockney's came about, but the are most definitely from the working class.

The Kiwi and I talked alot about how interesting it is being in London, both being descendent of the British Empire, we grew up in cities that are relative babies compared to their aged Grandfather, whos streets and name are of unkown origin. I really liked his idea of country being like a human life.  They begin, learning the world, get to their teenage years start fighting everything with little success, get a bit older, more dominant, start full on wars, and then once this is done, they relax, start looking internally and seeing how they could better themselves and the world around them.


Beyond the history of Cockney from a Cockney, and the existential nature of cities and countries,  I got a lesson from the pair on the proper way to say Bollocks (more of a single syllable word), the difference between someone being bollocks, and being the bollocks.  For an American, bollocks can be used any time 'shit' is used, but, in a neat turn of events, it can also be used any time 'Fucked' is used. So its sort of a duel brand curse word. Neat, huh?  Having a laugh, Deep Sea Diver (Fiver), Bag of Sand (Grand) among other words described. Ill be posting all of the ones I remember on an earlier post.  Ultimately I had a great night, met some really interesting blokes, and knew that this kind of conversation would never, ever happen in Los Angeles, with only slightly better chance of happening in Chicago.  This is a pretty nice spot on earth, maybe it really is because nurturing nature of an grandfathery city.

Anyways, cheerio till next time.

David