One of the rare cheerful pieces of news recently is that despite the flood woes and a late change of venue, the annual Ploenchit Fair is going ahead next Saturday at Bangkok Patana School on Sukhumvit Soi 105 (La Salle).
It is now 10 years since the fair moved from its traditional home at the British Embassy. The location may have changed, but the spirit certainly hasn't. I always enjoy the day, what I remember of it anyway.
That the fair functions is thanks to some hard work behind the scenes by Carolyn Tarrant and her team of volunteers connected to the British Community in Thailand Foundation for the Needy.
Apart from raising money for charity, the fair serves a number of practical functions.
Crutch feels obliged to put in an appearance just to show people that the old fossil is still in the land of the living, although admittedly looking a little bit the worse for wear these days. It is also an opportunity to meet other old fossils I haven't seen for years.
In fact it may be the biggest fossil gathering of the year.
Going bananas
My favourite Ploenchit Fair tale goes back to the late 1980s when it was still in the embassy grounds. A British resident thought that hiring a couple of elephants to pose with the kiddies for photographs while they fed the creatures with bananas would be a big hit. Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.
When the great day arrived the elephants were there on time, as was a truckload of bananas purchased to keep the pachyderms happy.
Unfortunately, when the kiddies began feeding the elephants, it soon became clear that something was wrong. Presumably they weren't the right type of bananas,
because after a few mouthfuls the elephants began making strange noises, spitting out most of what had been proffered. The poor animals then began suffering major ''stomach upsets'', sending everyone scampering for cover.
It quickly became evident that the photographer couldn't carry on as the elephants were leaving a trail of unsightly deposits on the hallowed lawns of the embassy. So it was reluctantly decided to relieve the animals of their duties.
This was little consolation to the British fellow in charge of proceedings who now found himself with vast quantities of dubious bananas. By all accounts he developed a taste for banana fritters for the next few weeks.
Written off
One year Crutch was assigned to a booth at the fair to try and sell a few copies of the first ''PostScript'' book. I must confess to not relishing the prospect, envisaging myself sitting there like a complete idiot surrounded by unsold books, totally ignored by the passing throng _ which was exactly what happened.
However, a charming lady saved the day, by saying I looked younger than my photograph _ goodness knows what photo she had seen. I hope she wasn't referring to the one gracing the present column.
Matters then totally got out of hand when esteemed author James Eckardt rolled up to promote his first book, Waylaid By The Bimbos. Crowds of fairgoers suddenly converged on our stall, eagerly devouring Eckardt's book and totally ignoring mine.
Tattooed lady
The first fairs I ever attended were in a meadow by the River Thames. My home town was not exactly the liveliest place in the world, so the travelling fair briefly became the centre of the universe for all self-respecting schoolboys.
My parents hated me going to the fair as they felt it attracted the wrong sort of people _ and they were absolutely right. The word ''seedy'' springs to mind and there were all sorts of weird characters lurking around _ but of course that's precisely what made it attractive.
One of the main attractions was the Tattooed Lady _ a sign of the times, as these days ladies with tattoos are unfortunately a relatively common sight. But in the mid-1960s tattoos were regarded as a bit weird, restricted to sailors and eccentrics.
I remember paying sixpence for the privilege of seeing a plump lady wearing bright red lipstick, covered from head to foot in tattoos. She looked quite hideous and I had nightmares for an entire week.
Belly dancing and bagpipes
Tattoos seem to be quite fashionable these days, although I can't fathom out why. Journalist Liz Jones is definitely not a fan of what she calls ''tramp stamps''.
In a Daily Mail article last year she referred to tattoos as ''the most tasteless, tacky, tawdry, terrible plague to infect Britain since mad cow disease''.
However, over the years some famous people have sported tattoos.
Sir Winston Churchill had a tattoo of an anchor on his arm, but he was the First Lord of the Admiralty, so we'll let him off. Even actress Angelia Jolie had a large tiger tattooed on her back while she was in Thailand.
There won't be a Tattooed Lady show at the Ploenchit Fair, but they've got some belly dancing and bagpipes, hopefully not at the same time.
The fair takes place from 10am-9pm and it's all for a good cause, this year raising money for flood victims. The beer definitely slides down better when you know it's for charity.
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