The Name Ish Bock. Jamesh Bock.

Here, said Johnny Bottleneck. I got this  for thee.

He thrust a tangle of wires into my hand. A tangle of wires, a disk and a ballpoint pen.

Bottleneck – I didn’t want to be cruel — you know I’ve never in my llife used anything but a fountain pen, a crosscut pencil or a Berol italic.

I know, he said, but —

They come as a boon and a blessing to men. The Pickwick, the Owl and the Waverley pen.

Sometimes I can be very annoying.  Even I realise that.

It were a present from Keith Moon, Bottleneck muttered.   Just before he drove his Roller into t’swimmin’ pool.  It were iconic moment in rock.

What could I say?

Thanks, I said.

He got it from his pal in t’CIA, insisted Bottleneck.  Look.  It’s a fookin video camera.

Ah! I replied.  Ah!

At last I got it.  From now on, I’ll be keeping Bottleneck’s pen-video in my pocket.

Look forward to Willie O’Dea: The Movie.