Like Roxy Music, but cheaper

At last I've found out what's going on. Wilson sat me down today to summarise the problem and disclose his solution. 

'Look, New Dad,' he started, 'we've got a brilliant idea that's almost ready to make me, um well US obviously, a million: Oddsies! We've got the packaging and the publicity, but we can't afford to buy the stock. We need to raise money, and raise it fast!'

I nodded, encouragingly.

'So we're going to run a Benefit Concert! We're going to turn the old "Trading4U" warehouse into a pop-up nightclub. Pop-ups are very popular right now!'

'So who's going to perform in this nightclub that people will pay to see, but won't require any fees?' I asked, fearing that I already knew the answer.

'ROCKSY MUSIC!' he exclaimed, triumphantly. 'They are the new Art-Rock Sensation! And as it happens, I am their promoter, manager and songwriter.'

With a flourish he produced a flyer for the band, proclaiming, 'Ta-Dah! What do you think? You can help me fly-post them all over Uckfield! Brilliant or what?'

A musical prodigy at work...

Wilson is totally on a roll today, having written four more songs: 'Mother of Ant', 'Street Ant', 'Both Ants Burning' and 'Jealous Ant.' 

Right now he's in the conservatory trying to teach them to sTony and sToneye. 

Without, it must be said, a great deal of success. 

Celebrity Big Brother

No sock shopping again today, as Wilson didn't want to be too far from the telephone. I asked him about this and he said, 'I'm half expecting a call from Channel 5. Celebrity Big Brother starts this evening and they may need me if one of their lesser celebs pulls out at the last moment.'

He went on to explain that while he had no wish to appear on CBB he wanted to decline politely and in person. 'When you're a celebrity, such as myself, it doesn't do to burn your bridges with the Media, you know — you should remember that if you ever get famous, New Dad!'

While waiting for the phone to ring he found time to write some more songs. Today's crop includes 'More than Ants', 'In Every Dream Home an Ant' and 'Ants Are the Drug.'

I have to say that the tunes all sound strangely familiar. As do a lot of the words...

A new songwriting sensation!

Wilson has really been working the guitar today — he's writing his own material too! 

While he plays and makes up the lyrics, Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly B are suggesting rhymes and writing down the songs. 

So far he's written three new songs: 'Slave to Ants', 'Do the Ant' and 'Virginia Ant.'

Seems like he's channelling Bryan Ferry!

Antony meets Polly...

Wilson has taken a day off from sock-shopping so he can play with his new toy, Polly. 

Antony, it must be said, is a bit wary of Polly. He probably feels threatened by her presence, having been effectively an 'only child' for so long then suddenly being faced with a rival for Wilson's affection... but I'm sure it will all work out in the end.

I'm pleased to see that my guitar has been brought in from the Wilson Vermilingua OBE Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot — I'd like Wilson to have a proper hobby, to distract his mind from constant thoughts of financial acquisition…

Wilson strikes gold. Almost.

Today Wilson returned from his regular round of the charity shops with a bulging carrier bag and a big smile. 

'Did you get any socks?' I asked him.

'Well. I thought I'd struck gold,' he replied. 'There was this charity shop with a big "One Day Only" sock event — but they'd sold out by the time I got there. 

'However…' He opened the carrier bag and withdrew a big fluffy bee, 'I did get this! I shall call her Polly, and she will be all the things that the real Polly was not!'

I imagine he means cuddly, affectionate and uncomplaining.

Kickstarter

Wilson is now wondering whether to try funding his Oddsies! project at Kickstarter.com. 

I honestly can't see investors rushing to put money into a second-hand odd-sock business, but what do I know about the Rag Trade? Or, for that matter, about the Second Hand trade?

In other news, woodlice have moved into the bee house. The earwigs are not happy.

Bryan Ferry

Wilson has raided my underwear drawer and is ironing my socks to package and sell as Oddsies! He has graciously allowed me to retain one (odd) pair for wearing, which I shall have to wash and dry overnight.

Out of the blue, he asked me whether sTony reminds me of Rock SuperGod Bryan Ferry. I told him that they both have good teeth and a nice (if a little predatory) smile, but there the similarity ended. 

I think if W is contemplating getting sTony work as a Bryan Ferry look-alike he might be hampered by his lack of a body. Among other things.

Financial decline...

There is no shortage of Charity Shops in Uckfield, but Wilson said I would be surprised how few socks they have in stock — even odd ones! 

I didn't tell him this, but actually I'm not at all surprised — I wouldn't have expected second-hand socks to be a big seller at any price, even for charity.

On his return from the village (once again sock-less) Wilson mentioned that he'd noticed a lot of empty commercial premises — 'Yet another symptom' he said, 'of our financial decline.' 

Statements like this are uncharacteristic of W — I hope he's not considering a career in financial forecasting. Not with his track record of failed business enterprises...

Still missing one vital ingredient...

The Oddsies! packaging arrived this morning, so now we have crates of wrappers and boxes for Wilson to sell his Oddsies! socks in... and a load of advertising in place… but but no Oddsies! and no means of buying any. 

Also, we'll be spending the rest of this month eating mostly ants. 

After stacking all the boxes in the kitchen, Wilson made another foray into the village in search of socks from the local charity shops. 

Road Safety Campaign

Wilson found disappointingly few pre-owned socks at the charity shops yesterday — all he came home with was a bee fridge magnet ('To remind me of Polly' he told me, morosely) and a pack of cable ties. 

This morning I discovered that all the lamp posts near our house have had warning signs cable-tied to them. Naturally, I asked Wilson whether he know anything about it. 

'Oh yes!' he admitted, breezily, 'They're part of my Road Safety Campaign. I found it quite difficult crossing the main road in the village yesterday, so I thought some Anteater Awareness posters would be beneficial to everyone.'

Princess Tracey has left to found a dynasty

Wilson went round to the Folly this morning to change Tracey's flowers and see whether she survived last night's Meteor Shower, but he couldn't find her. Apparently she left a note with the mother earwig, explaining her absence. 

The note allegedly reads: 'Princess Tracey Bee the 1st has left to become a queen and found her own colony. It is her destiny. She wishes all her subjects well, especially Wilson Vermilingua OBE for his kindness and provision of flowers; but not the earwigs, who crassly invaded her majesty's palace and kept her up all night with their raucous and cacophonous music.' 

I should point out that I haven't seen the note myself, I'm just going on what Wilson has told me. I didn't even know that bees could write, let alone spell words like 'cacophonous'!

W gave the flowers he'd brought for Tracey to the mother earwig. She was very grateful, saying that they would feed her family for days.

The earwigs have now taken over the whole house and sub-let rooms to their friends and relatives.

There was no honey in the jar.

Perseid Meteor Show

Wilson has gone into the village to do the rounds of the Charity Shops. He hopes to buy up their entire stock of pre-owned socks to re-package and sell as Oddsies! 

I have warned him that he'll have to be very selective in what he buys, and also that he'll need to wash and iron the socks to make them look brand new, if he is to have any hope of selling them. 

The Perseid Meteor Shower is due to peak this evening, and Wilson has warned me that he'll be spending tonight in his Asteroid Shelter. I shall have to prepare my own meals, and he's asked me to feed Antony and Tiny Toy too, as there's no room for them in the Shelter. 

Or me, obviously.

Wilson explains the REAL problem...

Wilson blamed our current precarious financial state on the unexpectedly high costs of the Oddsies! launch — the logo design, the packaging, the advertising and so on — and admitted that there was now no money for food.

'That's not the real problem though,' he explained. 'We can live on the food we've already got in the freezer, as long as you don't mind eating more ants than you're used to, New Dad. The real problem is, I can't afford to buy any socks!

'If I can't buy any socks,' he continued, 'I can't sell any Oddsies! and we can't get our money back! Instead of being rich, we'll be poor… That's exactly what I didn't want.'

Totally maxed out!

This morning Wilson prepared a fabulous breakfast of freshly-baked croissants, freshly brewed coffee and freshly opened orange juice, with not an ant in sight… but sadly I couldn't enjoy it. 

Long experience has taught me that an extravagantly delicious meal like this is W's way of breaking bad news to me. And my intuition didn't let me down.

Since Wilson is in charge of all the shopping and household expenses, he has free use of my VISA card. 

The bill arrived this morning. 

The card is maxed out!

They're here!

They're here! A pre-production sample of Wilson's New ODDSIES! wrapper has arrived, together with a dummy of a special Mystery Edition pack, where you can't see the colour of the socks you're about to buy. 

Two things worry me about this whole enterprise:

1) whether people will pay hard-earned money for odd socks in fancy packaging, and

2) how much all this design work is costing.

But Wilson is confident — he says this is exactly how the fashion industry works… although he's started calling it the 'Fash Biz' and sometimes 'Rag Trade.' 

Anyway, he's signed off the samples and we can expect boxes and boxes of them to arrive any day soon. I'll bet he stores them in the kitchen, along with all the boxes of unused paper coffee cups… and the empty Ant Juice cartons…

It's a Girl!

This morning Wilson told Chandler that she is definitely a girl bee. 

'In that case,' she said. 'I should like to be known as Tracey. "Tracey the Bee."' 

Warming to her subject, she elaborated, '"Princess Tracey the Bee the 1st"… or should that be "Princess Tracey the 1st the Bee"?' 

After a moments thought, she reached a decision: 'Her Majesty Princess Tracey Bee the First!'

Wilson said that was too long for the sign.

Volkswagen

While Wilson was in the village handing out his new business cards to anyone who would take one (and one or two who wouldn't), he noticed the logo on the front of a Volkswagen in the Waitrose car park. 

He examined it closely before declaring, 'WV. Hmmm. That's a very good logo. I could have saved a lot of money if I'd noticed that before I commissioned my own design…'

I explained that it was not WV but VW, and the logo had belonged to Volkswagen since the 1930s.

'Intellectual Property Law is a complex area fraught with difficulties,' he replied. 'Given the right lawyer, I think I could have successfully sued them for infringement of my design; at the very least they'd have given me a free car to keep me quiet. Probably.'

Business cards

Last night Wilson watched a Horizon documentary about bees, and it seemed to suggest that if a bee is out and about among the flowers it's a lady bee. The way W explained it to me is that all the boy bees are inside the hive doing something unmentionable to the queen.

'D'oh!' he exclaimed after the programme, 'I could have carried on calling my bee Polly after all!'

This morning, though, an exciting package arrived for Wilson which quite distracted him from his bee problems: a big box of business cards with his new logo on them! 

He's outside at the moment, handing them out to anyone he comes across...

Chandler

The bee, whatever his or her name is, has finally said she doesn't care whether she's a Worker or a Drone, she just wants to get back to the flowers. 

Wilson protested, 'But what can I call you if we don't know your sex? Should you have a boy's name or a girl's name?'

The bee thought for a moment, and replied, 'Chandler. I should like to be known as Chandler the Bee!'

I think Wilson is a bit peeved by this as he thinks it's such a cool name he wishes he'd thought of it before he started calling himself Wilson. 

Nevertheless, he has agreed to this. 

And to re-paint the little name board outside the Bee House.

Also, when he gets a chance, Chandler would like her flowers changed, as they're looking a bit tired.