(Monday) Moan 42

THATCHER'S LEGACY?

So much has been written about Margaret Thatcher that illustrates perfectly how divisive a figure she was.  I’m not going to add to that.

 

But was I impressed by the representative cross-section of British society that turned out in Trafalgar Square for a party to celebrate her demise?  Not really.  Most of my thoughts were around the rent-a-crowd nature of the protesters – usual bunch who will turn up for anything where they can claim class war credentials.  At least some of them looked old enough to have actually remembered Thatcher rather than having been told about her.

 

I don't think the divisive nature of British politics is necessarily her legacy, although it has something to do with it.  I'm sure that the general feeling that it's OK to say whatever you like about people, and that you should film it and put it on YouTube or on any of the social media is more to do with the technology of today than it is a reaction to her tenure as Prime Minister.  In fact, let's have a little bet that had this been the death of Tony Blair then much the same motley crew would have turned out for his farewell celebration.

 

 

RETURN OF GORGEOUS GEORGE

So, one good thing to come out of the Thatcher debate has been the return to our screens of that king of British politics – Gorgeous George.  He’s been missing far too long – and I love his latest stylistic reincarnation.  I wonder where he got his inspiration? Anyone remember Gilbert O’Sullivan? Or was it Prince Charles? My money is on Brad Pitt.

 

Most disappointed man of the week was probably Rod Stewart, who thought it should have been him singing 'Maggie Mae' that made it back into the charts, rather than that Judy Garland song.  

 

The rest of us could just heave a sigh of relief.

 

 

RETURN OF FOOTBALL HOOLIGANS?

Millwall fans have a reputation to live up to – you know, put one in a room and he’ll fight himself.  So, wherever they gather there is always a danger that they’ll start fighting amongst themselves if there are no other targets around.  From what I could see there were not many people involved at Wembley on Saturday, but sad, nonetheless.

 

And then we have the fighting in Newcastle city centre on Sunday.  No doubt a little upset by losing 3-0 at home to fierce rivals and fellow relegation candidates Sunderland, some Newcastle fans decided the best thing to do was to punch a police horse.  Makes sense – if you’re an idiot. 

 

I agree with the police spokesman who said they were not true Newcastle fans and that the vast majority had been well behaved.  But how did he know they were not true fans?  I reckon it was because they still had their shirts on – unlike real fans.

 

  

FROM OUR PRAGUE CORRESPONDENT

Just spent nearly a week in Prague, and apart from coming back with the Prague virus which has laid me low for a few days, I had a great time.

 

As with everywhere, there were some things to like and some you could do without.  So, we loved the Metro – simple to use, frequent trains, easy to understand fares.  But on the other hand, I didn’t know whether to applaud the consideration, or feel insulted by the implication, when a young man offered to give up his seat for me.

 

Attentive service in restaurants is always to be welcomed, but in Prague this seems to have been taken to a ridiculous level by their insistence on whisking away your plate as soon as it seems that you have finished – whether or not you have finished in some cases, and always without regard to whether or not your companions are still eating.  Take it easy please – it makes you feel unwelcome to be rushed like this.

 

We had been warned that you are supposed to use a pedestrian crossing whenever there is one within 50 metres of where you want to cross the road.  We loved the way that there was a timer counting down the seconds until the pedestrian lights were to change to green, but we were a little surprised that they then stayed green for only 7 seconds.  The less able would probably just about have got their feet onto the crossing by then!

 

I took with me some cards in Czech explaining my various food allergies.  Really useful.  All the waiters and waitresses I came across read them carefully and said they would be able to sort out appropriate food for me.  Excellent, I thought.  Not so for the first meal after our arrival, where the waitress said all the right things but then brought me a pate with pistachio nuts embedded within it – not so good for my nut allergy.  And then ice cream with my fruit for the third course – not so good for my dairy intolerance.  Fortunately, an isolated example.

 

A couple of other observations.  First, it seemed like stepping back into the Dark Ages to discover that smoking is allowed in Czech restaurants.  I had forgotten how quickly the smell gets right up your nose and clings to your clothes for days.  Second, we had a conversation about how the English anglicise everything and wondered why we do this.  Then we saw this picture in a bookshop window and realised it’s not only us!