Mick Dennison column

Who carries three phones? International man of mystery perhaps? Drug dealers? Maybe. But one person I do know, who carries three phones is Debbie Cain.

I’ve talked about Debbie before, she’s Albert Modley’s granddaughter and a true champion for Morecambe.

Debbie is a member of the ‘Go Morecambe’ team who have been nominated for one of The Visitor’s Sunshine Awards and she and Christine Stebbing, another member, were round at our house recently trying to agree the running order for the carnival procession. Anyway, Debbie needed to speak to the lady with the Portuguese Lipizzaner Dancing Horses, who are in the parade.

Out comes her handbag and she’s there, delving into this huge bag, rummaging through all the mysterious things which women keep in their bags and, out she comes with her phone, only that’s not the right one so, back she goes.

A few minutes later she emerges again, phone in hand but now, in the light, she realises that this isn’t the right phone either and so in she dives again. Debbie eventually finds the phone and triumphantly makes the call; the woman’s out after all that.

I was intrigued, why would someone carry three phones, Debbie’s answer?

Because I have different people’s numbers on each phone. Of course.

I wondered if this was common, so I later asked Google, but sadly it let me down. It couldn’t tell me why someone would carry three phones however, in an attempt to lessen my disappointment, Google did tell me that keeping a phone in my bra will not give me breast cancer and also that men carrying a guitar case are 30 per cent more likely to get a date than men not carrying a guitar case.

I know what I want for Christmas, but if this gets out, I’m pretty sure Promenade Music will sell out of guitar cases.

It was a bit like a boxing match around our kitchen table when we were trying to arrange the procession order.

We have walking and motorised vehicles entries, horse drawn vehicles, cars towing trailers and a ‘Help for Heroes’ military vehicle. Plus, live singers, marching bands, ukulele bands, brass bands, samba bands, boys’ brigade drummers and the Batala drummers.

I soon learnt that, as the only man present, my opinion was irrelevant and I was only there to keep the glasses filled.

After four hours of heated debate and copious amounts of wine, the running order was finally agreed.

Then, the following day one group dropped out and, our first reserve was a motorised musical entry, which couldn’t be a straight swap because it was next to Bay Beat and, we were back to square one.

Then came the Giant Elephant, how could we say no? It’s in – and I guess it can go wherever it wants, after all, who’s going to stop it?