"BIFFO THE BEAR IS AN EASTER EGG WITH LEGS..."

Biffo the Bear - he's a good egg



One wintry, snow-clouded night in the late '70s (I think), myself and a friend were making our way home after visiting a mutual acquaintance. As we were passing a block of flats, a motion at one of the windows on the first floor caught our attention and we stopped to observe what was happening. A parent, in the act of putting his child to bed for the night, was writing on the condensation on the inside of the glass pane as the infant bounced excitedly up and down in the background. (We could just see the top of the head, popping into view every few seconds.)

We stood transfixed, trying to decipher the reversed writing (accompanied by an oval-shaped figure) as, word by word, it took form before us - "Biffo...the...Bear...is...an...Easter...egg...with...legs!". We fell about laughing at the silliness of the proposition, and, judging by the sounds of childish merriment which emanated from within, the youngster was equally amused. Then the snow and the wind caught us on the nape of our necks and propelled us, much cheered by our diversion, in the direction of home and the promise of our own warm beds awaiting us at journey's end. (I was well-aware at the time just how much the scenario echoed a similar one in THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS.)

If memory serves, at the time of the above-related incident my friend was home on leave from the Navy, having joined not long before. (Or, if memory fails to serve, he joined not long after.) We kept in touch by the occasional letter and it soon became almost a custom for each of us to finish our episodic epistles with the slogan: "Biffo the Bear is an Easter egg with legs!". I could neither read nor write the catchphrase without images of the night in question springing to mind, and having a hearty laugh to myself at the memory. Naturally, I assumed that my friend viewed the occurrence through the same nostalgia-tinted spectacles as myself. It was one of those shared moments that neither of us were likely to forget.

Or so I thought. Imagine my surprise when, one day, on a short visit home with his wife a year or two later, my friend enquired of me whence the slogan that we so freely bandied about between ourselves had originated. "Don't you remember?", I asked, somewhat puzzled by his lack of recollection. He didn't, so I gave him a recap of the events of that snow-swept night a Winter or two before. He still couldn't remember, and explained that he only used the phrase because I had, and because he found it funny.

Strange, isn't it? Sometimes, moments (or things) that we regard as having, in some indefinable way, bonded us together - whether it be with friends, brothers, sisters, or lovers - and which we imagine to be fondly-remembered shared points in our mutual histories and experiences, turn out to be an entirely one-sided affair, having far more significance to one of us than the other.

It brings to mind occasions when I would hear my father recount to my mother an obviously cherished moment from their past, followed by the expectant words: "Do you remember, dear?" - only to be met by a blank stare, a bewildered shake of the head, and a disheartening "No!". I suddenly understand, with an insight and clarity that only time can bring, the disappointment etched on his face and no doubt in his heart. (Of course, such moments sometimes also happened vice versa.) 

I wonder how many friendships, relationships, or acquaintanceships survive only on the ghost of a memory of some past event that one of the parties involved has long-since forgotten - if, indeed, they ever remembered in the first place. Kind of sad to consider, don't you think?

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(Note to US & foreign readers: BIFFO THE BEAR was - and occasionally still is - a character in the famous British comic, THE BEANO - published weekly by DC THOMSON & Co., Ltd since 1938 and still going strong.)