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Written by letters
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Friday, 18 December 2009 |
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Dear Edge,
Much as I love England, much as I love all things English (breakfasts, pork pies, Sunday shopping, curry, Stella, Shiraz, etc), I'm afraid that the country has gone completely mad and I do not wish to have anything more to do with it.
I realised that things were not working properly a couple of years ago when, despite (like thousands of others) paying 40% of my hard-earned cash in income tax, 11% in National Insurance, a further 17.5% of what's left in VAT, nearly 70% tax, sorry, fuel duty, on the stuff I need to put in my car in order to reach the edge of town supermarkets (since there are none in walking distance from my house), £1,200 tax to the local authority for the privilege of living in my house and over £3,000 (non-tax-deductible) in train fares, I discovered that the government could not use this money wisely enough to ensure the railway system operates correctly.
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Written by letters
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Friday, 18 December 2009 |
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Dear Edge Bloke,
I read with interest your article about Mick Duck on page 5 this month and can categorically tell you that our Michael’s brother is not called Richard.
Do you think we would be so stupid to leave a loved one to the mercy of heartless school children calling him Dick Duck?
So we called him Donald instead.
Yours sincerely,
Mr & Mrs Duck
Phew! That’s a relief then E.E.
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Written by letters
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Friday, 18 December 2009 |
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Hello!
I was introduced to your fabulous mag by friends when they were visiting us in Perth, Australia, in July 2009. How was I introduced, you may ask?
We were on the coast and had stopped to admire beautiful, wild surf and rugged, Heathcliff-like....well, cliffs, when lo and behold, aforementioned friend stands on the look-out rail, makes sure her botty crack is just grinning out from above her jeans, puts mag in her back pocket, muttering about The Edge being right near her crack, or some such nonsense. A photo was then taken by her chortling, snuffling husband, while the rest of us clueless Aussies looked on with grave concern.
We honestly thought they'd taken leave of their senses.
Lengthy explanations ensued and we were delighted to think that a photo of our lovely coastline (surf, cliffs, cracks and all) may appear in a future issue of The Edge as proof that it really is an international, jet-setting, global kind of publication. I, for my sins, then read The Edge as we drove through beautiful vineyards, flat lush countryside and stately forests and just laughed and laughed and laughed. Gleefully so. With great Aussie aplomb!
Just wanted you to know that you have Australian fans who can't wait to read future issues.
Warm regards,
Melita Thomas,
Perth, Australia.
Let me tell you, dear readers, that is about as good as it gets. My ickle ‘art pamphlet’ has been to places I’ve never been and I honestly think it’s incredible that some of you lovely people out there make a conscious decision (because that’s what it is) to pack a copy of The Edge into that little zipped up compartment in the lining of your suitcase (after all, we DON’T want Customs getting their grubby little hands on it, do we?) in order to take a shot of ‘THE EDGE ON ITS TRAVELS’. Thank you from the bottom of my bottom for your email, Matilda (!) . . . it genuinely means a lot. E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Dear Edge,
To get into the Christmas spirit, why don’t your readers go see the animated version of A Christmas Carol at the Chelmsford Odeon in 3D?
Regards,
The Edge Ed.
Good suggestion, Edge bloke, even if I/you do say so yourself! Mind you, it’s a bit on the scary side for kids in certain places, we thought, so do beware. E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Hi,
With respect to Dave Monk on BBC Essex, my caption would be: ‘I don’t know....you tell me?”
Cheers!
Clifford Edwards
Chelmsford.
Hmmmm, this is a bit of an obscure one that might need a little explaining. You see, readers, over at the Rivermead Campus, two signs read ‘Except Buses’, but I think what Clifford’s driving at is how would you get anything wider than a bicycle through the concrete bollards that now block the way? E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Hi Shaun,
Thought you would appreciate this photo I took while I was in Bristol visiting the Banksy vs Bristol Museum exhibition earlier this year. I knew the credit crunch was hitting hard, but honestly...
Made me laugh, so thought I'd share.
All the best,
Pip Holden,
Chelmsford.
P.S. I absolutely LOVE your magazine! I read it every month and like to keep copies so I can look back on them. Truly brilliant. Keep up the good work.
Well, that is bloody nice of you, Pip! D’you know what though? People do use the ‘L’ word when describing their feelings for The Edge and I feel that’s a far greater achievement than any actual award/gong that The Edge has never won to date (hint, hint). E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Do you wholesale your tea? The grocers, specialty food stores, gift shops and large chains we work with are aggressively looking for more tea to purchase this coming festive holiday season. We need a larger variety of products they can choose from, hence my email to you. If you want to make a push and you're interested in selling into more stores, now's the time to visit us at www.intostores.com/sellers.php
Yours sincerely,
Kevin Sanderson
VP Merchandising
866-788-5799 (ext 3)
Fancy a brew, readers? E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
I'm really concerned. Three years ago it was the Chinese year of the cow, and lo and behold, we had Mad Cow Disease. Two years ago it was the year of the bird, and we had Avian Flu. Meanwhile, this past year was the year of the pig, and guess what, Swine Flu.
By the way, next year it’s the year of the cock.
Anyone else worried?
Alan Fisher.
My cock has actually been using a Vicks inhaler since mid-October, sir E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Dear Edge,
I know you don’t get outside Chelmsford much, so doubtless you haven’t seen the way the London Evening Standard goes about promoting itself to potential readers?
John Savage.
Many thanks for that, John. Yes, The Edge could certainly learn a thing or two from them, sir. E.E.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
Remembrance Sunday may have come and gone for another year, but the feats of those who gave their lives so that we may enjoy our own must never be forgotten.
Galleywood is one of the few villages in Britain that does not have a permanent memorial to honour their
memory. Therefore, an appeal has been launched to rectify this and has already met with an excellent response, although it is still some £2,000 short of its £10,000 target. It is hoped that such a shortfall can be met very soon so that work may begin in early Spring 2010 to build a fitting memorial with the names of the 32 on the Roll of Honour from both World Wars.
Wendy Cummin is the local resident who has given much of her time and commitment to ensure that a fitting service may be held in November 2010.
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Written by Rich
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Friday, 27 November 2009 |
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Dear Shaun,
Very delayed reaction to your February 2009 issues with reference to Thailand.
Basically, I’d like to put out a severe warning - keep Thai girls in Thailand in the bars, where they belong!
Alas, a friend of mine is married to a Thai woman (whom he actually met in the UK and who appeared to be very respectable, or so he thought). After spending some years together, which included the squandering of literally thousands of pounds of his money, poor chap, she decided to cash in her chips.
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Written by letters
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Wednesday, 07 October 2009 |
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Hey up, Captain!
Whilst exploring the Temple of Queen Hapshetsut in Egypt recently, yours truly was shocked to discover a 3,000 year old back issue of The Edge in her tomb.
It was still a right riveting read though, even way back then.
All the best,
The Kingmeister.
Never mind about the old mag, lad. What’s that ‘thing’ dangling by your side? Why, it’s a manbag, you bloody great metrosexual tart. Unless, of course, you’ve got a pick-axe in there, and maybe some mountaineering rope, like what the real Indiana would have had? But if not and all you’re carrying is a bit of lippy and a packet of tampets, well then, your days in the mag might be numbered. (Discrimination my arse!) E.E.
Hold Tight, Please
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Written by letters
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Wednesday, 07 October 2009 |
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Shun,
Us southerners don’t like Yorkshire Tea because it’s shite.
It’s like Yorkshire Pudding is to fine dining, you bloody great puddin’.
Chris Yardley.
Just to clear the ‘Shun’ bit up for starters, readers, southern bloke Yardbrush has always called me ‘Shun’ for no real reason that I’ve ever been aware of. Yardbrush laid the patio at ‘Edge Towers’, what, it must be a good 10-12 years ago, mustn’t it, lad? And it still hasn’t fallen apart! However, tha’ clearly knows nowt about tea, y’soft southern shite. In fact, if you had your way, you’d probably rebrand it Yorkshite Tea, wouldn’t thee? E.E.
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Written by letters
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Wednesday, 07 October 2009 |
Hi Shaun,
Having just read your article on Yorkshire Tea in the September Edge, I wanted to tell you that there really is no better tea - PG Tips tastes of perfume, Tetleys like wee (not that I have ever tasted any wee, you understand).
My dear old Nan used to swear by Yorkshire Tea and always drank it, as do I. In fact, I cannot drink any other and sadly carry bags around with me and rudely offer them to whomever I visit as no other tea will (ever) do.
Sainsburys used to sell boxes of extra strong Yorkshire Tea, but unfortunately not anymore, so it’s 2 teabags, 3 sugars and full-fat milk for me every time. Ahhhh!
Have you ever had a cuppa with a slice of Yorkshire Tea Loaf? That is just heaven, I tell you. My dear old Nan (once again) used to send me regular parcels that contained Yorkshire Tea and a Yorkshire Tea Loaf - and, curiously, always a box of American (tan) tights in size XXL which used to come up to just beneath my armpits and at least four inches past the end of my toes. I never did discover why she sent me the tights though, bless her (maybe it was something to do with ‘the war’?).
So there you go. All Hail Yorkshire Tea. People simply don’t know what they’re missing.
(Mrs.) Jo Garty.
What an excellent letter in favour of good old Yorkshire Tea, Mrs. Garty. And now, sadly, I’d best brace myself for t’other side of t’coin.….E.E.
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Written by letters
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Wednesday, 07 October 2009 |
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Hey oop there!
Thanks for yet another right good edition of T'Edge....except for one article. I was going to suggest an addition to Tracie's list: You Might Be Metrosexual IF you don't carry a club and spear and go around grunting, although far better if I just said, “PACK IN THE SEXIST REMARKS. Right?”
It really does seem like some people haven't made it out of the Stone Age in their attitudes.
Matt,
Rettendon.
’Ey, calm down, calm down, Matt (let’s hope my Scouser impersonation isn’t as bad as your ‘northern’ one). Tut-tut, a bloke complaining about sexist remarks made in The Edge...now there’s a first! But hey, it’s all just a gentle bit of rib tickling is all, sir. You need to roll with it, know what The Edge is saying? No good getting all uptight about it as it’ll seem as though you’re ‘due on’, bloke. E.E.
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 06 August 2009 |
Dear Edge,
I am just an ordinary Joe, but I am an enthusiastic diver.
Fact: More people are killed each year from bee stings and falling vending machines than by shark attacks. So, given the fact that bees are obviously such dangerous creatures, why are we not annihilating them to extinction?
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 06 August 2009 |
The All-England Tennis Club has scrapped its traditional rules in a bid to preserve the centre-court for pretty Russian girls with pert buttocks, instead of the ox-like munters who win most of the time.
In this all-new version of tennis, sylph-like maidens will have a playful knockabout for an hour or so and make soft moaning noises whilst striking the ball, rather than howling like demented banshees. Between sets, they will rub oil into each others thighs and at the end of the match will congratulate each other with a multitude of wet, lingering, tongue-filled kisses.
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Written by letters
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Monday, 03 August 2009 |
Dear Ms Norton,
Your piece in the July Edge on the subject of tea unfortunately recalled
for me a terrible event of some years ago, namely the passing of my wife, Margaret, from cancer of the oesophagus in the most diabolical of circumstances, preceded by much anguish and failing health.
She was diagnosed in 1994 and underwent an operation described as the most complicated ever performed by a surgeon to remove the tumour, after which she spent seven weeks in intensive care, and thereafter five years of difficulty ingesting food, leading to numerous visits to the hospital for treatment.
So it is not an affliction to be taken lightly, as you appear to suppose. Before our world caved in, I used to notice that Margaret drank a cup of tea much faster and at a higher temperature than I did. In fact, she had usually finished her cup before I had even taken a sip, but I used to put this down to the fact that she used a denture plate, which meant that she could not feel the heat on her upper mouth. I used to say to her, “That is not sensible” and “It must have an effect upon your digestive system,” thinking how painful it could be in the mouth, on eating something that was particularly hot. But she would not take the point. So I have always had the feeling that her manner of drinking tea (and probably ingesting hot food) could have been the cause of the problem that later emerged.
The reason why Margaret was obliged to wear a denture plate was, in a way, my fault. We were playing cricket with friends at Gosfield Lake. I sent a ball down, our friend at the crease missed it and it sailed over the wicket towards Margaret. She was standing well back, but talking to somebody in her vicinity. I called out, but as she looked up, the ball
struck her in the mouth. It was a million to one accident and could almost be described as pre-determined since it involved both of us, when any two of a dozen others could have taken our places. So I have borne some guilt ever since, that had it not been for that acci-
dent, Margaret would not subsequently have been so afflicted. I did not see the article which detailed the research you mentioned. If you still have access to it, do you think you could forward me a copy? In any event, I should, if I were you, drastically reduce your intake of tea, and always drink when it is tepid. Otherwise, I fear that you too might succumb to the most awful of afflictions before you reach the age of sixty-two, the age at which my Margaret passed away. I too have had a personal ‘run in’ with tea. In 1980, I had a heart attack which left me with recurring bouts of arrhythmia. A few months ago, I was severely troubled with this, to which appeared to be added an additional layer. An ECG reflected it, but my doctor told me it was nothing to worry about, since it was only ‘palpitations’. She didn’t have it, of course!
Anyway, it became so debilitating that I was unable to do anything, so I returned for another ECG. This time, one of the doctors, not, I think, my own - on examining the trace said, “Stop drinking tea and coffee.” This surprised me as I was not in the habit of drinking more than three cups of tea a day, and hardly ever coffee. So I started to use decaffeinated tea. The outcome was nothing less than miraculous! The arrhythmia and palpitations stopped immediately and I haven’t been troubled by them since. So there’s another reason for treating tea circumspectly.
As for red wine, well, that’s another story entirely. Suffice it for me to say that I also probably drink more than I should, but unlike you, I am of an age where it doesn’t really matter any more what harm it might be
doing me!
Yours sincerely,
Ken W. Bailey,
I don't know about any of the ailments to which Mr Bailey refers Cheryl, but these days I only drink decaffeinated tea and coffee (and on some days I like to make the noise of a penguin), so maybe you should think about doing the same? And as for cutting down on the red wine, oh no, no, no, no....we can't be having that. life is for living after all. EE |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
Sir,
I feel I must write in reply to last months Beverage Report regarding The White Hart at Margaretting Tye. I have to say, I do wonder whether Mr. Sherman did in fact take a wrong turn and was actually somewhere else entirely, as his increasingly negative and sometimes contradictive report seems to be a million miles away from the pub
I regularly visit on Saturday evenings.
Furthermore, as a resident of Margaretting, therefore a bona fide ‘local’ of The White Hart, I wouldn’t like to think that, should I decide to visit an establishment outside of my village, I would immediately inherit ‘immigrant status’.
The popular place that The White Hart has become (and all credit to Liz Haines in her achievements) means that it attracts a healthy mix of ‘locals’ and ‘non-locals’, which in these difficult times is surely a good thing for any pub.
As someone who enjoys a decent pint of real ale (and let me emphasise that all of the ales at The White Hart are kept in top-notch condition), I have to say that I have never heard anyone question this pub’s beer quality ever - and the same goes for the food. All this mixed with friendly people and a great atmosphere - what more could anyone possibly want from a proper old (and yes) traditional country pub?
M. Simo. |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
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Shaun,
I read David Sherman’s review of The White Hart in your last edition.
I have been a ‘visitor’ to Margaretting Tye for the past 15 years, having friends who live in the village, and have been a regular ‘immigrant’ visitor to ‘The Hart’ for all of those years. I'm not sure whether Mr. Sherman noticed, as he rode into the Tye on his high horse, but there are only about 8 houses in the village, so most of the pub’s customers simply have to migrate, otherwise the place would have shut down long ago. |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
Dear Edge,
Having moved to Essex some 13 years ago from the sprawling metropolis that is Bethnal Green; for those that don't know it, it was once described as Beirut with Job Centres (or was that Alexei Sayle on Liverpool?) I've always felt a bit like an immigrant. Part of my motivation for moving to Essex was for a slice of ‘Cider with Rosie’ in the setting of an English rural ideal. Having friends in the area, I headed to The White Hart in Margaretting Tye, looking for a hostelry falling somewhere between the Woolpack (Emmerdale) and the Slaughtered Lamb (American Werewolf in London).
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
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Dear Edge,
I asked my 9-year old son if he knew anything about the birds and the bees.
“I don't want to know,” he said to me, covering his ears. “Promise me you won't tell me?”
Confused, I asked him what was the matter. |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
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Dear Sir,
In previous years, The Edge has published a ‘football prediction’ competition that I always enjoyed taking part in. However, this seems to have been discontinued.
Is there any possibility of it being resurrected?
Yours sincerely,
Mr. G. Clarke,
Gosfield, Nr. Halstead.
How does the saying go: ‘You’ve got two lots of hope, Mr. Clarke. Bob Hope and NO BLOODY HOPE!’ Seriously sir, I only play it with Steve Ward these days...it’s far easier to sort out with just the two of us, you see. E.E.
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
Hi Shaun,
Listen, I know your mag’s a brilliant read, but do I seriously have to travel from Silver End (yes, someone actually lives there) to Chelmsford just to get a copy?
Would it not be possible to get a copy sent, if I pay the postage?
Regards,
Neil Wildin.
Chuck in the appropriate amount of self-sealing A4 envelopes, Neil lad, and you might just have yourself a deal. E.E. |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
Dear Shaun,
As one of the ‘immigrants’ who make regular weekly journeys to The White Hart at Margaretting Tye, and have done so for the past ten years, I feel I must respond to David Sherman's comments regarding my ‘local’.
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
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I have a child diagnosed with dyslexia and was disgusted when I read in your May edition the comment made that anyone who has difficulty with literacy uses the dyslexic card as an excuse to be lazy. My child is not lazy. With extra tuition both inside and outside of school, he works very hard. |
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Written by letters
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Thursday, 16 July 2009 |
Dear Shaun,
As an avid reader of your mag and great lover of the Jokes Page, which I regularly post to my family back home in The States, I was very upset with your Grumpy Goose columnist and his comments about dyslexia.
Dyslexia is a very real disability. The fact is, many people who don't understand it think that people who have it are just plain lazy, but they’re not. In the last seven or eight years, teachers have only just learnt how to recognise the signs of children with dyslexia. Hence, any adult with the problem who cannot read very well is not simply ‘a slacker’.
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Written by Rich
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Wednesday, 03 June 2009 |
 Dear Shaun,
As one of the "immigrants" who make regular weekly journeys to The White Hart at Margaretting Tye, and have done for the past ten years, I feel I must respond to David Sherman's comments regarding my "local".
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Written by letters
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Monday, 01 June 2009 |
Dear Shaun/Kingpin,
I am a great fan of The Edge magazine and have always been pleased to pick up my copy at the beginning of every month from outside Mr Patel's newsagents in Moulsham Street. I still call him Mr Patel, as back in 1982 when he took over the shop, I was his head paperboy, and in them days, you were still taught to have respect for your elders, which is something that’s seriously gone astray these days
It was the excellence of the Kingpin's May article, regarding this planet's ever expanding population and the responsibility in having children, that has caused me to write in, because I was beginning to think I was the only person alive who could see the way things have been going.
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Written by letters
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Monday, 01 June 2009 |
Dear Edge,
I went to that Turkish barbers opposite ‘The Door Stall’ on Chelmsford Market the other day and had the proper dogs bollocks of a head shave with a cut throat razor, not to mention my ears and nose hair singed off, all for eight quid.
They are open seven days a week, are really friendly, and you don’t need to book - just walk in.
You should try it next time you need your head polishing!
Regards,
‘Bob the Door’ Kershaw.
Bloody hell, Kersey Lamb, not only did you manage to get in a FREE PLUG for your DOOR STALL on Chelmsford Market, but it also sounds as though you’ve got slapheaded shares in the Turkish barbers too, my good man! Yeah, actually, you’re not the first person to point me in their direction. See you at ‘The Prince Reunion’! E.E. |
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Written by letters
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Monday, 01 June 2009 |
Shaun,
I have been in talks with ‘Susan’s people’ and we are at a stalemate at the moment, mate. We are arguing about her ‘rider requirements’. Three bottles of J.D., two bottles of Smirnoff, a tennis ball size lump of crack and a fully greased up Chippendale are slightly excessive, we feel.
However, we can but persist.
Regards,
Marc Miller
Barhouse.
OK, Marc, thanks for letting the good readers know of your limited progress. By the way, would she be open to a greased up monkey (i.e. Lengthy Boy) instead of a Chippendale? E.E. |
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Written by letters
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Monday, 01 June 2009 |
Anyone considering a weekend jaunt up to London might want to check the trains before leaving home, as there’s a hugely annoying habit of them laying on bus replacement services at weekends instead. Many’s the time I have had to get back to Brentwood by catching the C2C line from Fenchurch Street to Upminster, then getting a cab from there. It works out to be a very expensive proposition, but is infinitely preferable to having to get a combination of tubes, busses and trains, for which the bastards still charge you the full fare for the privilege of taking two hours longer for the trip.
Regards,
A disgruntled commuter.
Bastards indeed. E.E. |
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Written by letters
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Monday, 01 June 2009 |
Dear Shaun,
It was interesting to read about Crispin Coulson starting up a website on Facebook in memory of The Prince of Orange.
Many people may recall that I was at The Bay Horse for many years before moving on to The Prince of Orange, where I was the last licensee before it became O’Connor’s.
Looking at the site on Facebook brought back many memories, though sadly some of the faces are no longer with us. |
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Readers Letters