The Little World

Of old men. Cranky old men. Building plastic models.

Growling at each other. Venting unpleasant political opinions. Being incorrect, on every level.

Cursing, swearing, reviling, jeering, and moaning at each other. And drinking coffee and eating cake.

And loving it.

Men who have gotten past the age of work and have reached the age of play. Men who have decided to do what they like whether anyone else likes it or not. Men who can look their wives straight in the eye and sneak another kit into the house. Men who make sure the children and grandchildren keep off their ( scale plastic ) lawn.

Men who are not afraid to breathe fumes. Indeed, they create them, if they cannot be got from the hobby shop. Men whose sense of smell is about as good as their sense of melody and none of them can sing.

Men who have all, at some stage of the game, been hauled off on a gurney with tubes stuck in them. In some cases repeatedly.

Men who lose 3mm dark grey parts on a dark grey floor and spend the best part of an hour locating them…before stepping on them. A savage Tuesday morning and I wouldn’t miss it for worlds.