The Random Doubts of Walter Mondale

I have a very old friend called Mondale and he's been blogging since June 2004. Hooray for him. I used to sail with Mondale. It was years and years ago, for years and years. Last December Mondale included an entry in his blog to tell his readership about mine. It's here if you want to see it:
A bit about me on Walter Mondale's Blog

I've decided that it’s about time that I returned the favour.

What Mondale didn’t tell his readership, is that - as well as sailing incompetently together for almost a decade - we also wrote each other letters. They weren’t love letters, so don’t get any ideas. Mondale was too good to waste on lust, feuding, a broken heart and then trying to forget forever.

I have just dug out a bag from the back of my wardrobe, and found an array of letters from Mondale. They were distributed amongst many other letters, some from people that I can no longer remember and others from people that I’d forgotten and have just been reminded of.

One thing’s for sure; I could not forget Mondale. The first letter from Mondale is from when he was 13 years old. It goes like this:

EXCERPTS FROM WALTER MONDALE’S YEARS AS A TRAINEE BLOGGER

November 1986

“To Emily

I don’t spend 24 hours a day ramming my index finger up my snout! (contrary to popular opinion). You are about to get (if you haven’t already) a very stupid letter from my mum. As for the 50p, that’s enclosed! I’ve padded the letter up so any thieving Postie doesn’t get any ideas. Sorry about the handwriting, I’m in the car.

Mondale

You Owe Me 50p for my sponsor form. Soon as Possible.”

I wonder why Mondale sent me 50p when I also owed him 50p. Were we that fucking stupid?! Royal Mail must have loved us. The fact that we're not living in supported accommodation today is an achievement for us both.

Now, I will give you the chance to see how Mondale grew into the fine blogger, and expert on politics, that he is today.

January 1988:

“Yo Emily!
Did you see that thing about the Beano and the Dandy that other day, Good wasn’t it. I’ve just had cross country today! You could drown in the mud at our school it’s really bad! I normally get the 22mins (standard is 25) but today I got 30.54! Mr **** had a go at me saying that my attitude was all wrong today and trying to gob on each other and warring. So what? This a piece of contraband school Paper from my formroom! Me and my mate Dave got dragged out of Assembly because it was our turn to do litter duty! Thanks everso much for the pressies. The kittens don’t like the silly string James gave us ‘cos it frightens them. A kid was pushed THROUGH a window in a MOBILE! In a fight at our school on Wednesday! He’s o.k, in fact he just got up , shook the glass off and walked away!
See ya later
Mondale

X country course enclosed”

March 1989:

“...I HATE SCHOOL / GCSE’S

I have to add that that is a mild exaggeration upon the truth of the matter, but you know what I mean. Being Head Boy isn’t too bad it a bit like being an MP, you never seem to do anything, no one knows exactly what you do (myself included) and no one really cares, oh yes I almost forgot, a good example must be set almost all of the time, (I allow myself the odd deluge into good fun everyday that I can!) So l end up as a perfectly ordinary person despite the stain the establishments (School/GCSES) are placing upon me by hacking away at my sanity with wet fish slices!

If this seems like a completely mad letter that’s probably because it is a completely mad / insane / lunatic letter...”

September 1989:

“Emily!

Yeah!, its happened, College is, on the whole, quite a laugh. After 2 days I’ve met the College Stone Roses posse, Mark, Mark, Danny and someone else who I think is called Ian but I’m not sure.

Politics is fine, thats where the “Posse” hangout quoting Michelle Shocked lyrics to Mrs ****, who is not very impressed...

... Well I’m fine dans le moment. Here my timetable:...”

October 1992:

“...life at **** University is absolutely tops!!! Lots of glamorous Gals (well, lots of babes!) a lot of good ole boys!...“

November 1992:

“Oh dear! My poor girl! Ems, I’ll have to explain about life here at **** University with lots of maps too, in fact this whole letter is going to be choc a bloc with maps and accompanying commentary!...”

November, 1993:

“I’ve got a job as a steward at Twerton Park, home of the Gasheads (That’s Bristol Rovers to you and me!) £12 for 4 hours work, not bad and I get on telly each week (I stand right near the corner flag in an orange jacket so each time there’s a corner or incident, I’m on TV) and I watch some football.

I should be working on one of 3 essays due in a week or 2 but it’s a toss up between Weimar Germany or liberal party in Britain 1885-1914! DULLSVILLE

Today has been great for personal hygiene, I’ve had a shower (essential Sunday practise) and also hovered and tidied my room and changed my bed. STEADY ON OLD BLUE!!

Them boys left my gaff a smelly shithole!

Sometimes the things I do astound me!”

February, 1994

“...I’m meant to be getting on with some essays today (How did Hitler consolidate popular party support 1933+, or something about racism in Britain or some shit about Victoria England) so in the best tradition which has got me through my GCSE’s And my Levels and probably my degree too – I’ll write to emily!...” This was followed by a diagram of Mondale’s room.

And from this century:

Summer, 2001
“I love summer, I love all seasons but right now I am blissed out. I sit in my back room, door open to my little yard full of herbs and shrubs with a few flowers, gentle breezes wafting in to take away the cigarette smoke, the radio is offering up a delight of piano sounds and all is well in the world!

I’m sure I sound like a frightful 1920s type but was I ever anything else?) but listening to the Proms is one of my rare pleasures. I don’t sit nightly and tune in and musical taste wise I am quite a tart but Radio 3 is something I have taken to. Beautifully spoken people talking about beautifully spoken things, beats the hell out of other radio stations!

Ah, such are the joys, of course there are other joys too but here, now, they are the joys I am indulging in!

The night turns from blue to dark, have beer, tobacco and a good chair to sit in. I was going to watch some TV but I can’t be fucked! TV sucks 90% of the time.

Ah well, I do hope you don’t think I’ve lost the plot! (I suspect you don’t care either way!) It’s just, well allow the diagrams below to illustrate my midsummer mentality...”

THE END OF THE EXCERPTS

It’s a shame that I rarely receive letters anymore; I do love a good letter.

Mondale’s scripts were always brilliant; full of friendly banter, wonderful witticisms and the best diagrams that anyone has ever made just for me. The full flavour of Mondale’s correspondence is lost because I’ve chosen not to publicise his private life too much, but I do hope that you enjoyed the above.

Now you’ve seen the past, check out Mondale’s modern day writing. I believe his entry on bollards is the most popular right now. You can find them all here:
Mondale's Blog

This one’s for you Mondale...