Partnership Disobedience

It is often said that the devil makes work for idle hands.  On the whole, with the clear exception of my attempts to play a musical instrument, I like to imagine my hands are under my own executive control (assuming that idea has any meaning) and the infernal realms have an indirect influence, at best.  My mind, when idling – whether it is supposed to be or not – is a very different matter and generally appears all too able to slip off the yoke of local management and wander off on its own (or at the whim of any, or all, available supernatural agencies).  These digressions take a wide range of forms, but this post will only tackle one of the common themes: projects I could only consider tackling if I had significantly more time and money to devote to such foolishness than is, in fact, the case.  As those who know the author will attest, I am already possessed of substantially more money than sense, but this is more a comment on my shortfall of sense than on my fabulous wealth.  I suppose I could re-define projects of this type as conceptual art, rather than mild lunacy in search of a weak joke, and see if this would attract grant-giving agencies or a wealthy sponsor – but I’m not hopeful.  Let’s see how the world at large responds to the modest proposal which I shall now set out…

A number of professional bodies corporate have a tendency to exist as partnerships – I am thinking of accountants, lawyers and the like – which tend to be named as a list of the partners involved (or originally involved). Despite the fact that When We Were Very Young was published in 1924, no-one seems to have formed the obvious partnership suggested by the poem Disobedience contained therein.  I view this as a sad indictment of the level of ambition in the English-speaking world and would rather like to rectify this.  When the lottery millions come rolling in (only very slightly inhibited by my failure to participate in the lottery), I shall be seeking a set of solicitors with the following surnames to form a new partnership:

  • James:          2 off
  • Morrison:    2 off
  • Weatherby: 1 off
  • George:        1 off
  • Dupree:       1 off

Their names will be used in the order listed in the formal name of the firm and on the associated brass plaque and letterheads.  The firm should probably specialise in family law.

I am keen to arrange a series of events to mark the third year of my new partnership: perhaps a move to the end of the town as a prelude to dissolution.  I’m certainly keen to hold an event with golden gowns in the dress code: if possible, involving a trip to the palace (ideally with an Alice) – perhaps at breakfast time (butter would, of course, be provided).  Should the firm somehow survive to reach its sixth year, I will insist that they take on a silent partner with the name of Binker.

I did consider an alternative partnership honouring the brave men of the Trumptonshire Fire Service but decided that inspiration from A A Milne would have a broader reach.

Before signing off, I feel we should all take a moment to admire the (relative) brevity of today’s exposition: it came within a gnat’s crochet of fitting into a Tweet!