Had our farewell pints tonight at a Cambridge pub called The Pickerel Inn. To appease Alan Jacobs, I had a couple of pints of Old Peculier [sic] ("The power of Old Peculier should never be underestimated!" Too right). I cannot reveal the details of the conversation around the table, but I must here record that I laughed so hard my muscles hurt and tears were literally running down my cheeks. Any conversation involving Old Peculier and someone talking about the time he went to relieve himself in the African bush and saw a "hyena looking at my todger" is bound to tear me to bits. And now, of course, I have a fantastic new juvenile and offensive word to work into my conversation at every turn. Todger. Todger. Todgertodgertodgertodgertodger. What a fantastic slang find! Men, teach it to your sons, that they too may be splendidly ridiculous in a very British male way. And always remember that the power of Old Peculier should never be underestimated. Nor of this delightfully vulgar potion from the brewery what brought ye Old Peculier.
Drinking with British people
Thursday June 11, 2009
Categories: Britain
Filed Under: Britain
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Rod Dreher is an editorial columnist for the Dallas Morning News, and author of "Crunchy Cons" (Crown Forum), a nonfiction book about conservatives, most of them religious, whose faith and political convictions sometimes put them at odds with mainstream conservatives. The views expressed in this blog are his own.
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Glad you're enjoying your Old Peculiar; it's my husband's favorite. We somehow manage to avoid the potty language, though. Must be that he's surrounded by girls.
The thing is, the word "todger" sounds like a Dickensian jibe, or a tool that Squirrel Nutkin would use to tend his garden. It's funny how slang words sound very different out of context. I remember years ago being warned not to say "bloody" this or "bloody" that over here, because Americans can't really appreciate how rough that sounds to British ears. Similarly, I've found that Dutch people use "shit" in everyday conversation, apparently not appreciating how strong a word it is in English.
Just out of interest, and because I'm sure plenty of ecclesio-nerds read this blog, it's "Old Peculier" not "Old Peculiar". A "peculier" is a parish that, due to some quirk, is outside the jurisdiction of the diocesan bishop, and the beer is named after the Peculier of Masham, the town in Yorkshire where it is brewed.
On the topic of beer, I think you'd have done better finding a proper Cambridge beer. Beer tends to be better in the town where it's brewed.
Before you leave Cambridge, if you get a chance do go and visit Kettle's Yard. Jim Ede, who lived there, built up an amazing collection of art, and opened the house essentially as a museum for students and others. It's a wonderfully calm and contemplative environment as well. Open afternoons only, so this is probably your last chance. I never discovered it when I was there, but now try to visit every time I'm in the city. It's on Castle Hilll just past Magdalene bridge, so about 15 mins walk from King's at the most. You'd like it. Trust me.
How's the head this morning, Rod?
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