Me and you and a dog named Lou-Lou

I regret that I must withdraw my pledge to make the world a better place. Sunday musical excursion #24.

I’m house-sitting this weekend. House- and dog-sitting. The dog is ancient and cannot undertake long journeys to my friend’s parents’ Diamond Wedding Anniversary. So, she and I are lolling on the sofa, and both falling asleep in front of Netflix. It’s what Netflix was made for.

Yesterday afternoon, I popped down to the basement, only to discover the flood that my friend had warned me about. Water was not exactly cascading, but it was certainly ingress-ing, down the inside of an exterior wall, on the other side of which was an overflowing downpipe. I mopped it all up, turned on the pump (whose automatic function is futsch) and reported the incident to the homeowner. An hour later, I needed to do it all over again. “I’ll get my builder to have a look at it,” said the homeowner and, a while later: “He’ll try to pop in this afternoon and look at it.”

Well, you can’t say fairer than that, can you? He said he’d try to pop in. Except: he didn’t pop in.

Can you spot the difference between the following two exchanges?

1. “Mr Builder, I have a leak in my basement, can you come and look at it?” “I’ll try to pop round this afternoon.” “Oh, that’s great. Thank you!” “Don’t mention it!”

2. “Mr Builder, I have a leak in my basement, can you come and look at it?” “I haven’t got time till next Tuesday.” “Next Tuesday? But it’s leaking! Can’t you come before next Tuesday?” “Sorry, no.” “You’re useless, what am I going to do?!” “Sorry, busy till Tuesday.” “Damn!”

Do you see the difference? Yes, that’s right: there is no difference.

In both cases, the leak will get seen to on Tuesday. But in Exchange #2, the builder gets a heap of aggro into the bargain. And in Exchange #1, he gets thanked.

Just like climate pledges earn thanks and gratitude and plaudits and praise, even if the pledge is a form of obstruction and stonewalling, like at COP summits. Just like undertakings to not use fast-bred chickens, who live a life of misery just to end up as nuggets in a cardboard tray also earn thanks and gratitude and plaudits and praise, like with KFC in the UK, even when they get walked back. Just like political pledges to invest in green energy get turned on their heads, once the politician enters government, like with Keir Starmer and the UK Labour party.

So: always pledge to make the world a wonderful place. And then tell everyone: sorry, it’s not going to work out the way I had wanted it to. The result is the same, as are the apparent intentions, but not the press coverage.

Here’s today’s excursion into musicland.

The dog I’m sitting is named Lou-Lou. And the song is Me and You and a Dog Named Boo. Right, Lou? Woof.

The vid’s of a much more recent performance, live on tour in Sri Lanka (the sound’s not perfect). There’s a preface with a heartfelt country ballad, and the song itself is expanded with a fairly decent electric guitar solo. If instead you’d like the original, it’s here.

Me and You and a Dog Named Boo.

Written by Kent LaVoie.

Performed by Lobo (stage name of Kent LaVoie)

From his 1971 album Introducing Lobo.