Feeling quite tired as the Duncan’s Unctions roadshow has been travelling around quite a bit lately and the CEO still hasn’t fully recovered his BC fitness and energy. The old battered throat takes the brunt as I have to speak to every potential customer to convince them how much my unction will improve their lives. Anyway, I’m beginning to be an expert about skin, maybe I’ll do some more research in the new year. What I’m not becoming is an expert salesman; I’ve too much care in the community and not enough kleptonic sociopathy. Just two more Christmas fairs in Salisbury and Bridport to travel to then a few days in the cosy beach hut on Swanage seafront in my ‘pop up’ shop.
Now, last year (how can you have now followed by last year you twat) I was asking you lovely folk for help in deciding on a name for my creamy ointment. One good friend with much marketing expertise suggested I couldn’t use my very male name, I needed a feminine one. Being someone who has a very stubborn, some say bullish, streak, alongside a fair dose of vanity this suggestion sealed the fate of the name and Duncan’s Unctions was born. I feel somewhat vindicated as it’s brought a smile to many people’s faces as they read my banner, OK many more shake their heads saying “what’s an unction?” or in the brexitian spirit hurl English insults. One bloke asked as he passed “is it extreme unction?”, I immediately responded with “yes, it’s extremely good”, but something in the way he said it made me think so I looked up extreme unction and it is:
in the Roman Catholic Church, a former name for the sacrament of anointing of the sick, especially when administered to the dying.
How many people would I upset if I started dressing as a cardinal when at my stall?
And as ever in my life I’d be doing something which just mainly causes bemusement.
Anyway, looks like I’ve made it to another Christmas, which I am really looking forward to with just the right amount of friends and family get togethers and – enough of this shit Duncan, sounds like a bleedin’ round robin. Now where did that term come from? And as I look it up I’m reminded that it’s a sporting term where all the competitors in one group play each other and also: ‘a petition, especially one with signatures written in a circle to conceal the order of writing.’
And next month I’m giving a presentation in Bridport to a cancer support group about my unction, maybe I’ll dress as a cardinal?
And also next year we’re having a mid-year do to celebrate a bunch of us making 60, we’ll be in a pub in Shropshire for the weekend (anyone who knows me and the likes of the Chelsea College Crew from the mid 70’s who is of good partying spirit contact us for details). Just had an email from the Oysterband, they can’t make the Saturday but they can the Friday, which isn’t ideal but I’m still tempted and it would make a hole in the Unctions expenses account.
And very moved last week with a card from Tricia, Mallarkey’s mum, who wrote about how she fondly remembers dancing with me at Mark and Gillian’s wedding and that was her last dance. One to ponder, eh?
Off to do my Qi Gong.
Keep on keeping on, Love Duncan.