Commemorative Crockery.
What better way is there to celebrate the career of America’s foremost Western actor than painting his picture on a plate?
I spotted John on display in the window of my local Garden House Hospice. The staff obviously felt he had the requisite appeal to entice people in. I’m amazed the
original owner wanted to part with it. They must have gone
to the kitchen cupboard in the sky.
Commemorative
plates are a confusing concept. When are ever they a fitting tribute? I’m a fan
of many prominent figures, from Paul McCartney to Tony Hancock, yet I’ve never
felt the need to eat my dinner off their face.
Perhaps I’m
missing the point. Think of the mealtime guessing games you could play. It’d be
like the Catchphrase bonus round, with food in place of shapes.
(Insert a Mr Chips gag here.)
My foremost
commemorative plate memory – and let’s face it, I have many - concerns my first tour with the tribute show, Buddy Holly and the Cricketers. Our company
manager Chad secured a batch of rock-and-roll-themed plates from a shady character known as Memphis Pete. The transaction took place in a pub car park. Chad tried
to sell them front of house at each venue for rest of the run. We played at least sixty dates and yet he didn't sell a single plate. It was
hilarious.
I guess it's a
failing market. What was once synonymous with the back page of a tabloid colour
supplement will soon be no more. The target audience have all died out. It’s a
crockery-based tragedy.
I wonder if Chad would have been able to shift this lot?