HOW does the old 60s Easybeats song go now? That’s it: Monday I’ve got Friday on my mind. I don’t know about you, but I certainly have - and wouldn’t mind wagering I’m not the only one either.
Friday arrives like a collective exhale; a punctuation mark at the conclusion of the week, bringing joy, freedom and laughter, the opportunity to forget our daily routines and just go with the flow – a potent reminder that balance matters in all our lives.
We’ve got Good Friday, Black Friday. Friday the 13th, Freaky Friday, Man Friday – plus a host of other Friday-isms we could all mention if we put the grey matter to work. In the eyes of most people, though, it’s just good old Friday - best day of the week by a country mile.
Own up now – who’s old enough to remember classic BBC Friday classic, Crackerjack? Running from the 1950s through to the middle 80s, it was a fun-filled, slapstick, custard pie toting, kid’s comedy hour, overflowing with jokes, silly catchphrases, quizzes and physical challenges – plus the opportunity to win a prestigious Crackerjack pencil.
It was also the starting gun for the weekend. As the clock ticked round to 4.55pm, the announcer would triumphantly declare: it’s Friday, it’s five to five – and it’s Crackerjack! And the ecstatic, adolescent studio audience would scream: CRACK-KER-JAAAACK!
Ooh, I could crush a grape – Friday is the only day of the week you’re up with the birds.
Unlike Monday to Thursday when the hokey cokey themed alarm clock comes into play, taking victims three hours to get out of bed – you put your left leg in, your left out, in-out, in-out, shake it all about.
Friday mornings don’t half drag, mind – only after midday do things start to speed up, rapidly entering hyperspace as the anticipation builds. In a flash, the working week is over. Finished. Kaput.
Or at least for most people. Heartfelt apologies if your nose is still firmly to the grindstone. All power to your elbow – it will be your turn soon enough, I’m sure.
The sun always seems to be shining on Friday – well, mostly it’s not, but we’ll pretend it is, shall we? For the purpose of maintaining the cheery, upbeat theme?
One thing no one can deny is that Friday feels different. People smile more; they’re typically more jovial, affable and approachable. If you’re seeking a positive outcome to a particular dilemma, quandary or query, try posing the question on Friday – chances are you won’t be disappointed.
Friday is also Chronicle day. And I know you know that, because here you are on page 6, reading this column.
Let me hazard a guess: I bet you’re dreading turning to the back page, discovering if the Reds have taken another turn for the worse in what has admittedly been a disappointing season. Well, do it now, I say. Today. Friday. Before Monday intervenes, rearing its ugly head – I can guarantee the news will appear twice as bad then.
Each Friday the question on everyone’s lips suddenly becomes: what are you doing this weekend? I’m going to see a man about a dog would be a typically grumpy midweek response. Ask the same question on Friday and prepare to be engulfed by a verbal tidal wave of proposed activities, pursuits, destinations and outings.
Friday is also synonymous with fish and chips. I ask: is it just me? Or can you almost taste them now? Leaping off the page? Pure white cod and crispy batter with mushy peas and chunky chippy chips, complemented by generous lashings of salt and vinegar?
I can hear the sizzle of a fresh bucket of chips, emptying into the fryer and the polite, funny, friendly conversations of happy, smiling customers, shuffling round the back wall.
Everyone is proper Fridayed-up. Until word spreads that the young lad with the cardboard box at the front is from the factory unit round the corner - fish and chips thirty-six times please, missus.
Here we go, then: two cannibals, discussing Friday tea, when a carpenter happens by. First one says, what do you reckon? Mate replies, I don’t see why not. It is chippy day, isn’t it…?
