It's contemporary, coronavirus humour. Mind you, all too soon the context will be forgotten, and the joke in this card - and others in the same vein - will fall flat.
'Drive me to Durham as my special birthday treat'. I suspect that already the reference is fading from many people's minds. It's about Dominic Cummings, of course, and his lockdown-busting flight to his parents' home just outside Durham back in March. It hit the national news in late May, just over two months ago.
Mr Cummings wasn't going to obey the national injunction to stay at home. His was a very special case, as he had infant children who needed to be taken away to a place of safety - in this instance his elderly parents' home - and this justified that furtive dash north. He was, and remains, a top government advisor - PM Boris Johnson's own man. With a clear duty to show a good example, no matter what. But he still went up to Durham and back. And when found out later, he claimed to have done nothing wrong. And he got away with it.
It was a moral let-down. The whole country took note. I am convinced that from that moment most people felt that there was one rule for the privileged and one for the rest of us, and why should we take so much care any longer to obediently stay at home?
As a sideline to all this, the clandestine visit to Durham coincided with his wife's birthday. I'm willing to think that it could indeed have been a pure coincidence. But the media made much of it, focusing in particular on a rather unnecessary trip from Durham to Barnard Castle, a pleasant town on the edge of the northern Pennines, which they construed as a birthday treat for Mrs Cummings.
There is of course a further joke. I know Barnard Castle quite well, and I've walked around the city centre of Durham, and have seen its western suburbs. Barnard Castle could indeed be the sort of place to take a girl to on her birthday (for a cream tea, say). Durham, on the other hand, despite being a cathedral and university city on a dramatic river, with plenty of old buildings, is to my mind rather a disappointment. It is decidedly short on charm. I'm not quite saying that 'Drive me to Durham' is like saying 'Drive me to Coventry' or 'Drive me to Stoke-on-Trent', but the place is not a prime birthday destination. Great for miners' gala celebrations, to be sure. Not good for a romantic weekend.
This said, I'm not sure what other place in England would appeal to a Birthday Girl. The country is full of lovely countryside, and fringed in many spots by an amazing coastline. But the place names don't on the whole conjure up the magical allure of Sorrento, Capri or Venice.
'Take me to Stow-on-the-Wold!'
'Take me to Buxton!'
'Take me to Melton Mowbray!'
'Take me to Bury St Edmunds!'
'Take me to Devizes!'
'Take me to Weston-super-Mare!'
'Take me to Aldershot!'
'Take me to Uckfield!'
'Take me to East Grinstead!' (although this was the place for a dirty weekend in the Norman Conquests trilogy by playwright Alan Ayckbourn)
'Take me to Bexhill!'
'Take me to Clacton!'
'Take me to Mablethorpe!'
'Take me to Bridlington!'
'Take me to Grange-over-Sands!'
(I could have added 'Take me to Bognor Regis!' but this was a good friend's birthplace and I feel bound not to imply anything negative about this sunniest and liveliest of Sussex resorts)
I think you see what I mean. English place names, while undoubtedly Historical and Olde Worlde, are humdrum and stolid, lack an air of electric excitement, and conceal all the fun and glitz that might be there. It's even worse when there is actually no fun and glitz to be had, as at Durham for example. (Where, believe it or not, they won't let you take photos in the cathedral. Totally unforgiveable for all time. Maximum offence taken.)
The second card may have a longer life, as we will be talking about 'social distancing' for some time to come:
There. If a man says to you, 'I think we should be more socially-distanced' you'll know he's dumping you, even though the coward can't say it plainly. Personally, I think she's well out of it. His hairstyle is awful, and he has no clothes-sense whatever. Check shirts indeed. Time to flick through the pix on her favourite dating app, I'd say.
