Via the Word magazine weekly mailout comes this link for an excellent blog. I love a bit of George and Lynne. They're so liberated, aren't they? We never 'took' The Sun in our house, mother would have thought it too common* and Dad had The Express. Dad had The Express from the minute he started work in the late 40s up until the day he died in 2003 - that's right, he was lying on his hospital deathbed and we still took him an Express.
My country-dwelling aunt and uncle had The Sun though, so it was always a treat going to their house as, for a young lad, The Sun was manna from Heaven. Not only did you have to contend with top-heavy Page 3 'lovelies' but there was also the joy that was George and Lynne. When I was that age George and Lynne offered a skewed peep into what it was like to be an adult. George and Lynne gave this wonderful impression that childless adults just lazed around in bed all day watching television**. And Lynne ALWAYS had her norks out with a pair of see-through panties on (even though, to my disappointment, only the back was see through). Their conversation was always about some builder who'd wolf-whistled Lynne or George making some double entendre. You just knew that immediately afterwards they were going to have the best sex ever.
How disappointed and disillusioned was I to become with adult life?
Dad's Express only offered the charms of The Gambols. The Gambols were Terry and June to George and Lynne's Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin. The Gambols were George and Gaye, a happily married, middle-aged, childless couple. Their strips usually revolved around anecdotes that George would tell Gaye after a day at work (of course Gaye didn't work, what are you? Nuts?), a misunderstanding Gaye would have with a shopworker, or one of George's golfing mishaps. The only time The Gambols got a little bit sexy was when they were getting ready to go out - no doubt to a fucking dinner party - and you'd see George in his vest and pants (large, white Y-fronts) while Gaye would be wearing stockings and suspenders. But not in a sexy way. It was in a way that tells you the artist hadn't come to terms with the invention of tights (pantyhose for any Americans looking in).
The summer would be livened up by having their niece and nephew, Flivver and Miggy to stay. 'Hilarity' would ensue on a daily basis with those two little sods. By they way, have you ever come across anyone called either Flivver or Miggy? No, me neither.
I mean look at that picture at the top, that's a typical Gambols' drawing. George struggling with a grandfather clock bought at an auction while Gaye excitedly follows him. Don't you just know that was a bad investment?
I'd love to kick George Gambol in the bollocks in front of his missus for not being George and Lynne. The pair of bastards.
*Perversely, she'd buy it on Grand National day because 'it had a list of runners and riders.' Like they didn't in any other newspaper.
**I hate watching telly, and eating, in bed though, as an adult.
8 comments:
The Gambols always reminded me of a grown up version of that 'love is' couple..
I posted chipped in with this on the George and Lynne blog yesterday - in case you missed it
You can buy original George and Lynne panels here
http://www.georgeandlynne.com/
And I think one of the Spitting Image books did 'George and Lynne Meet The Gambols'
I think George and Lynn are still quite racy. I knew though, as an adult I could never adapt to their lifestyle. I don't like to stay in bed all day, no matter what you're doing.
We used to get the Express at home and like Mondo, the Gambols reminded me of that twee Love Is.. couple. I hated them.
My 'research' for this post informed me that The Gambols now appear in the Mail on Sunday. They're still going even though the artist, Barry Appleby, died in 1999. Isn't just the sort of cartoon you'd expect in the MoS?
Ah yes, I remember that "George and Lynne meet the Gambols" spoof, but I couldn't remember which mid-80s comedy book it was from.
Anyway, the plot was the Gambols being invited over to George and Lynne's, at which point Lynne took her top off and it turned into a swinger's party. Gaye Gambol cheerfully joined in but George got all embarrassed and had to shuffle out while everyone else ignored him.
I still think "swinger's party" every time someone mentions the Gambols to this day.
My least favourite cartoon strip is Fred Bassett in the Mail. NOTHING. EVER. HAPPENS.
"Gaye Gambol cheerfully joined in". I always suspected she might be a bit mucky but her sexuality was repressed by her bloody husband.
There was a Fred Bassett spoof in the Not the Nine O'Clock news book. I just remember Fred's 'dad' shouting "That sodding dog's shat on the bed again!"
The Express carried a strip called Pub Dog for a bit before it was replaced by Garfield. The Nottingham Evening Post still features Pub Dog. It's shite.
And another thing, regarding my parents and The Sun, Dad wouldn't buy it because "It's a bloody comic." And his point was...?
There are Garfield cartoons in a frame on the wall of my downstairs khazi. In my Darlington student house 18 years ago, someone did likewise with a load of A Man Called Horace strips from the Mirror.
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