German supermarkets vs Leonard

The correspondence continues:

Dear Becky

I have recently discovered Lidl and it has been a revelation. I did not expect to fall for anything again, and certainly not a discount German supermarket, but Lidl has crept into my heart and made me smile again. Despite my initial cynicism and coubts, I have started looking forward to my visits there.

I think the principal difference between Lidl and Leonard is Lidl's culture of innovation. Similar to Leonard, Lidl well may have no love to give us, but it has Ulster pancakes, Black Forest ham and some fabulous own-brand cereals. Indeed, who needs trouble taken from their eyes when they can pop in after work and pick up the fabulous little man malt crunchies or nougat pillows? I feel this is an avenue that Leonard could have explored in his music, and indeed in his relationships.

Lidl's mission statement includes a commitment to friendly service at great prices. I am unsure if Leonard has a mission statement. Possibly, he considers them an affront to his artistic integrity. However, the lyrics of you-know-who-i-am do provide us with some insight as to what such a mission statement could contain. Consider, if you will, "I cannot follow you, my love, you cannot follow me. I am the distance you put between all of the moments that will be."

Ms X



Dear Ms X

Well, well well.

I think Lidl sounds just wonderful, which is odd as I have never encountered a decent supermarket in Germany - maybe it's something they do better in a foreign environment. I may to come and inspect it so as to formulate my thoughts. One thing I have been wondering, however, is whether Leonard has ever baked a cake for his loved one. I'm afraid I rather suspect not. I do, nevertheless, think he could probably make a pretty good roast dinner if he put his mind to it. He could probably buy a great tin of goose fat in Lidl in order to make his roast potatoes extra crispy. For - and here is a great truth that I have discovered about love - extra crispy roast potatoes can serve to deepen love, to make it more sustainable, to create the essential ties that bind lovers together. My dad makes his roast potatoes with lard and olive oil, and my Mum has loved him for over 40 years. Mark makes his with goose fat, and Megan has loved him for over a decade. And Jamie makes his with olive oil and butter, and is expressing a willingness to experiment with the goose fat option. But then again, our love is young. He is still finding his way, still finding his own special method of crisping up his roast potatoes. It's a labour of love, you see. And it's one that has the potential to last a lifetime. Only people like Leonard don't see that. They are blinkered, dismissive of German supermarkets and have a cavalier attitude towards roast dinners (the fools). All the love songs in the world can't change that. Maybe instead of letting Suzanne feed him tea and oranges (which has always struck me as a very odd combination - was she TRYING to make his stomach feel all acidic? I've also read that tea prevents the body from absorping the essential vitamin C in oranges - maybe Suzanne was trying to give him scruvy, in which case I'm almost glad that he had no love to give her or he would have ended up very vitamin-deficient. Some might say he deserves this, however..) ... where was I? Yes, INSTEAD of letting her feed that weird concoction to him, HE should have worked on his cooking technique, carefully considered his choice of fat, and fed her crispy roast potatoes. I'm sure it would all have ended better and they could have touched each other's perfect bodies with their genetalia instead of (or as well as with) their minds. It would have been a better outcome all round. He could have poked her with his love sausage (just to keep the Germanic theme going).

Regards,

B

Julie has just written to point out, furthermore, that she always found it peculiar that Suzanne's oranges came all the way from China. It seems Suzanne cares very little about her carbon footprint. From my own memory of China, she would have had some problems sourcing them too. I remember lots of locally-grown cabbages, but no oranges. But that's Suzanne for you, the unenvironmentally-friendly scurvy-giver.