Gordon, the Sofa
Some people my age grew up with Gordon, the Gopher.
Some people, with Boris, the Spider.
And some with Ivor, the Engine.
But when I showed this particular piece of furniture (not mine) to my mother, she saw him at once.
Gordon, the Sofa.
I'm going to have to walk you through this because the lighting in the photo doesn't really do it justice.
In reality, this sofa has a Roman nose.
Do you see it now?
What's more, the lumbar-cushion stitching presents what is absolutely a bushy white moustache.
(It's okay, I'm coming to the eyebrows, but if you're already landing in the muppets with Sam the American Eagle, you're not far wrong.)
The contours at the side of the sofa's face create a kind of gaunt look, as he (Gordon) was in his later years.
And — oh, my goodness — then we come to the eyebrows.
Gordon's filled his eyes.
Well, they probably didn't.
That wouldn't be a thing.
But as far as I recall (and I was very young) Gordon's eyebrows were the main thing.
Though, I do remember his dark eyes.
And his nose of course.
And that moustache.
In fact, if I had to pick someone to play him in the movie of my early childhood, it would have to be Bill Pertwee, the warden from Dad's Army.
With a moustache.
Just look at Bill.
Then take a second look at the sofa, imagining all the necessary shadows.
See what I mean?
Anyway.
I sent it to her — my Mum.
And she shrieked. (She never shrieks.)
Said she's never going to be sitting on that!
Which made me realise that though Gordon was just Nanny's neighbour, for my Mum, he was the old man next door.
And there was that story about him climbing through the window after the car-crash… Oh, one story always leads to another. He lived with his sister, Joan, and for some reason they always made me think of George and Mildred.
I'm not sure why I brought up any of this, to be honest.
Forget I mentioned it.
