We were just chatting at work the other day and the subject or world records came up. It reminded me that when I was in my early teens I resolved to become a Guinness world record holder - inspired no doubt by the boundless energy of Roy Castle. Although I also think that if I grew old and never achieved fame I would have my world record to look back on. So far though I haven't achieved any fame but that's another matter. Anyway, I realised there was no point in challenging athletic records or unusual skills. I had to collect something unique. I chose wishbones from chickens, and quite possibly there were some turkey ones in there as well. I kept them in an old teapot at the bottom of my wardrobe. It had been our family teapot for many years, silver in colour and kind of octagonal in shape as I remember. I must have saved for a few years I guess. When I was sixteen or thereabouts I gave up collecting and the idea of writing to Ross and Norris seemed less appealing. However, to this day I still believe I had the world's largest collection of wishbones - unless someone can prove me wrong. So I am an unofficial world record holder. And, to be honest, it does provide me with a quirky little anecdote when work chat randomly turns to world records, say, every decade or so.
I had 36 incidentally.
No comments:
Post a Comment