Craic On

In my favourite shop the retail assistants wear luminous yellow jackets which makes them easy to spot as they weave their way in and out of piles of brown furniture. Over the years I have bought wardrobes, bellows, semi precious bunches of stone grapes, lead glasses and assorted cutlery. I am able to exercise little self control except in the matter of retail assistant number one who recently asked me what was in the bag I was carrying. “Trainers” I declared. “I’m going to go running and get fit.” “You look pretty fit to me,” number one assistant said.  “I reckon you’re built for comfort as well as speed.”. Overlooking the obvious forwardness of this observation, the truth of the matter is that I might not be getting any younger or any thinner but have developed an ambition to run an uninterrupted mile. Then I am stopping before I do myself an injury. Experience suggests that if I want to avoid running into things I will need a guide. The son, who is a serious marathon runner, is right.  He says the