The Ploenchit Fair, to be held at Bangkok Patana School next Saturday, serves as an annual reminder that the year is drawing to a close. The fair always reminds me of Queen Victoria, or rather her statue, which graced the fair in the days when it was held at the British embassy.
Before the fair was relocated in 2001, Victoria presided over proceedings in imperious fashion, although I'm not quite sure what she made of all the funny hats. She must have felt a bit lonely after the fair was moved. Even worse, the embassy sold off a chunk of its land and she was shunted off from her traditional spot to another part of the grounds.
Victoria hadn't suffered such indignity since World War II when the Japanese crated her up and stuck her in a corner. It could have been worse. Japanese soldiers wanted to smash up the statue but the cultural attache stepped in to save the day and even arranged that the crate had a peephole so that Victoria could see out.
Fast forward to 2017. With the embassy apparently planning to move to a new, smaller location, it will be interesting to see what fate awaits Victoria's statue. That brings us to the following tale, which has appeared in this column before but is particularly pertinent now.
Back in 1897 when it was suggested a statue of Queen Anne be relocated, Victoria remarked indignantly: "Move Anne! Most certainly not! Why, it may be some day suggested that my statue should be moved, which I should much dislike."
So while you are enjoying the fair on Saturday, please spare a thought for Victoria. She's been in residence at the embassy since the mid-1920s, so it's going to be a wrench for her, wherever she may end up.
Working-class heroes
I was pleased to see a statue unveiled last week of author George Orwell at the BBC in London where he worked as a radio producer in World War II.
The words on the wall behind the statue were originally to appear in a preface to Animal Farm but were never published. Even so, they are worth repeating: "If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear."
Someone who is always giving people an earful is comic strip character Andy Capp, who has his own statue in Hartlepool, home of his creator, Reg Smythe. The statue is appropriately next to a pub -- the Harbour of Refuge -- with Andy in a familiar pose, leaning against a bar, clutching a pint.
Mr Capp is the most politically incorrect comic strip in the Bangkok Post and some would argue that we shouldn't laugh at the antics of an unemployed drunken lout. But it's only a comic strip after all and provides social comment on human foibles.
However, I wouldn't want to meet Andy Capp in real life. Come to think of it, I have met one or two like him over the years.
Tribute to inactivity
Maybe there should be statues built across Thailand to honour citizens who have acted above and beyond the call of duty.
There should be some sort of sculpture of a snoring third-grade official, possibly in a hammock, in honour of thousands of officials transferred to inactive posts. Then there's the fearless Sgt "Serpico" Nop, perhaps on a bicycle, leading a flying squad raid on Pattaya bridge players.
And there definitely should be a statue of a tuk-tuk driver performing a U-turn on a sixpence.
Naked truth
There are millions of statues around the world, but they rarely make the news unless there is some silly controversy.
Statues of naked people often cause bit of a stir. There was a case some years ago in Connecticut where a school bus route was changed after an anguished parent claimed his daughter was paying too much attention to a streetside reproduction of Michelangelo's acclaimed nude sculpture David and his anatomically generous appendages.
Another problem with statues is that they can become prime targets of abuse. Nothing looks more forlorn than a statue with an arm or leg missing. One statue that has particularly suffered is Copenhagen's Little Mermaid, who lost her head back in 1964. Since then, she has been decapitated, blown up and defaced in every conceivable manner.
Off the wall
Some statues appear in the oddest of places. In 2011 eyebrows were raised when Fulham Football Club chairman Mohamed al-Fayed unveiled a statue of the late singer Michael Jackson outside Craven Cottage stadium. The singer had visited the ground once, a decade earlier.
Fulham fans were not happy, preferring to have statues of footballers. Not helping the situation was the fact that the statue looked a bit naff, resembling a reject from Madame Tussauds, possibly the Chamber of Horrors. Others said it looked like something that had escaped from a second-rate theme park.
Among printable observations on the statue were "hilariously bad", "cheap and tacky" and simply "Oh dear!". The owner responded by stating if the fans didn't like it they could "go to hell", which didn't go down too well.
When the London club was sold two years later, the first act of the new owner was to dismantle the statue and pack it off the to the National Football Museum in Manchester.
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