When you are as ancient as me, certain current events act as reminder of major incidents in the past. This was the case last week with the death of Fidel Castro.
I admit to being wrinkly enough to remember what became known as the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962, when the world came to the brink of blowing itself up.
I was a teenager and not interested in world politics. However, I was vaguely aware of the ill-fated Bay of Pigs invasion the previous year, but primarily for the quirky name of the bay. Then came those flickering television images of US Navy ships confronting Soviet Cuba-bound vessels, and President Kennedy warning of pending doom.
My dad was very concerned and feared a nuclear war was imminent. I suggested that if Armageddon did arrive our family could take refuge in our neighbour's bomb shelter, a relic of World War II.
My father informed his ignorant son that next door's disintegrating shelter couldn't protect us from a cheap firework, let alone a nuclear blast.
But the world survived and the most lasting impact Cuba had on me came at a Christmas party when a friend gave me a cigar allegedly from the Caribbean nation. Despite never having smoked a cigar, I foolishly decided to give it a go. Not a good idea. After self-consciously puffing away for five minutes, I felt rather queasy and was soon sprinting into the garden where I was emphatically sick.
Of course, cigars were to play quite a prominent role in the CIA's many unsuccessful attempts to assassinate Castro. But the exploding cigar turned out to be a dud as did the poisoned cigar. And as for the booby-trapped conch shell …
The face on the shirt
The other name to emerge from Cuba at that time was the Argentinian revolutionary Che Guvera, who played a huge role in Castro's revolution. Little did Che know that he would play an equally huge part in the international T-shirt industry after his death in 1968.
It was during the late "Swinging London" 60s that the first Che T-shirts began to surface in Britain, although many of those who bought the shirts knew little about the man except that he looked kind of "cool".
The T-shirt image was based on Alberto Korda's iconic 1960s photo of Che -- that's the one with the beret, scraggly beard and intense eyes. It is an image that has been used and abused for almost 50 years.
As Hannah Charlton wrote in The Sunday Times: "Possibly more than the Mona Lisa, more than the images of Christ, more than comparable icons like the Beatles or (Marilyn) Monroe, Che's image has continued to hold the imagination of generation after generation."
Heroic tacos
Considering his revolutionary Marxist ideology, Che would probably have been horrified to learn how his name and image had become a marketing tool to promote a huge array of capitalist products, from coffee mugs to cars, from sophisticated skis to sunglasses. There were even tacky Che lookalike competitions.
Perhaps the most bizarre example was the fast food chain Taco Bell dressing up a chihuahua dog to resemble Che, with the message "I Love Taco Bell". A spokesman explained, "We wanted a heroic leader to make it a massive taco revolution".
Less controversial perhaps was the Italian company, Olivetti, using Che's image in recruitment posters which read: "We would have hired him."
Possibly the most mind-boggling example of opportunism was the French businessman who came up with Che Perfume, which was promoted as "dedicated to those who want to feel and smell like revolutionaries." It apparently had quite a pungent whiff.
A dim view
Inevitably there have been movies about the guerrilla leader, including a rather quirky 1969 effort called Che. It was mildly entertaining, but one suspects the real Che would not have been overly impressed at being portrayed by Omar Sharif, the smooth bridge-playing superstar. It is worth seeing if just for the novelty of a bemused-looking Jack Palance totally miscast as Castro.
Suffice to say, his best moments were puffing cigars. It is fair to say the film was not greeted with great acclaim, with one critic calling it a "stinkeroo", which I suspect is not a complement.
Its main claim to fame was getting an entry in a book entitled The Fifty Worst Films of All Time.
Gap will be sorely missed
It's already been a very sad year in Thailand and this week it just got a whole lot worse. Former Bangkok Post colleague and good friend Kanjana Spindler, better known to us all as Gap, passed away after losing a two-year battle with cancer.
I worked for many years with Gap, particularly on the old Sunday Leisure section, and watched her develop from a gifted writer into a fine all-round journalist.
Gap contributed a whole page each week on literary matters and was responsible for giving many accomplished Thai writers the exposure they deserved, but rarely received before then.
Gap also wrote many excellent columns on political and social affairs, full of insight and perceptive comment.
Most of all, Gap was a livewire and great fun to be around. You could safely say there was never a dull moment.
A colleague this week called Gap "unique". That she most certainly was. She will be sorely missed by her colleagues and friends.
Contact PostScript via email at oldcrutch@gmail.com.