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Come back, common sense – we need you




There have been quite a number of enlightening facts noticeable over the past few months as we entered the Coronavirus ‘lock down’ as assorted can’t do’s, mustn’t do’s or ‘I’ll tell yer mother of you’ slung in for good measure have been uttered in the fight against, or possible spreading of, the virus.

As I write it’s just gone July, half past wotsit as we are slowly getting back to normal or whatever is going to be the new normal as the old one we took for granted is now perhaps a distant memory, like it or not.

I was talking to somebody in a queue by way of being polite and asking how he was although he was a total stranger but it’s called being sociable, but not sure if it will catch on but worth a try.

John Ward (38137491)
John Ward (38137491)

During the course of those few minutes he said he was just going back to work for the first time in months but was not sure if he ‘could handle it’ as the furlough process has sort of messed his ‘body clock’ up.

I am slightly curious as to how he coped but not really knowing him I have no idea of finding out.

Another thing has been the online video conferencing that went from governments, businesses to assorted people attempting to sing, juggle or let us know they ‘are still about’ although in some cases this was not all good news.

It set me wondering, among others I gather, when mentioning the following minor point of video connecting.

Every so often we have the ‘jolly boys and girls’ international outing or jamboree where lots, thousands in fact, pack up shop to jet off to some wondrous resort to discuss the usual climate change, poverty, saving or protecting endangered animals problems plus if time allows, save the planet but nothing is promised.

These bashes are attended by assorted world leaders (guest speakers can/could even be ‘pop singers’ with ‘environmental credentials’) with assorted supporter folk and general hangers-on with various titles or job descriptions that would defy logic.

Perhaps trying to fathom out what they actually did might even tax the mind of our very own Prince Charles with one of his popular catch-phrases being: ‘And what is it you do?’

Two weeks allowed, no conferring, in your own time on that one to come up with a feasible reply.

At such bashes assorted folk bang on about how us common lot are letting the side down by not doing enough towards the great aim of saving our planet so that other people like themselves can jet off and talk about the same thing year in, year out.

I often wonder what excuse they used before to get out the house.

It must have been something clever but certainly not along the lines of: ‘Won’t be long, duck –just popping out for a while with a few from work to help solve poverty, greenhouse gases and any other minor bits...’

Possible response being: ‘Okay, luv – but if you go by the Corner Mini Mart on the way back can you pick up a pint of lead free, ozone friendly past-yer-eyes milk, and some dog food plus something for your supper’

Now we know that video conferencing does and can work (it has done for years but this recent debacle has made it look trendy).

This could save all the air pollution caused by jets, be they private, company, friends of pop singers, footballers or those just famous for being famous etc. to take people to babble away in far flung six star resorts.

If they had a shred of decency this might be the video way to go but will it happen?

On this point, bear with me while I check on the pig just attempting yet another aeronautical ‘loop the loop’ past our kitchen window.

Strange you never hear of any of these bashes being held at some boozer with guest rooms somewhere in this country as it’s always somewhere that warrants getting an atlas out to see where it’s being held.

Bottom line being that wherever it is only the best will do and to think one of their supposed topics is world poverty.

However, the fact they are living in a parallel universe that, to the untrained eye, to some this might sound a tad hypocritical but then when dealing with the likes of those who preach: ‘Do as I say – not as I do’ it’s to be expected.

History seems to show that when somebody is spending somebody else’s money, more often than not it’s supplied by taxpayers, there are no barriers to worry about as ‘nose down and carry on, chaps’ are the keywords here.

Ironic to think the usual simple outcome or ‘idea’ usually means raising taxes under assorted names or ruses as some sort of answer but the fact by their very own lifestyle they are keeping poverty at a certain level which then equates to them having to keep going back to discuss it which must be a chore.

This is akin to the old nugget of which came first: the chicken or the egg.

Poverty will always be here as now it seems to be nature’s way of getting a minority away for a week or two to discuss it and it’s obviously in their interests not to find a ‘cure’ for it.

Years ago I knew somebody – only slightly – that was really keen on ‘saving the planet’ but running it from the ‘party power base’ in Bedford did not quite have a ring to it.

Although the last I heard about them, membership had increased to nine but not a private jet to clog the place up.

They did however have a communal Morris Minor, grey paintwork with red interior, with four doors so the smallest members had to sit in the back as the rear doors were smallish to clamber in and out of.

Their meetings were in a local boozer with a parking space, with the others arriving on cycles hence it being local as the hills were murder trying to pedal up.

However, they did accomplish something as they proved you could cut down on travel but only because of the said hill, although Clive who owned the Morris Minor never said anything on the matter.

Perhaps if the climate change ‘high flyers’ were issued with a chauffeur-less four door Morris Minor, a pint of ‘Old Mother Doorstop’s Best Bitter’ plus a packet of cheese and onion crisps, a pickled onion or two then they might get something done that is meaningful but perhaps best not to hold one’s breath on that one.

I asked Clive what ambitions he had then, if any, but they were quite simple: he wanted to get a Morris Minor Traveller, the estate type model with the wooden bits tacked on the sides as he could get more leaflets in the extra space plus his dog Spangles could lay down on a rug there.

Come back, common sense – we need you now.


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