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Abundant greetings to one and all, may the
merriest of spring tidings be bestowed upon you all. Now then I've been (or "a
bin" if you come from these here parts) out and about again this last fortnight. (Yes
they do actually give me free release from time to time. |
Mr J Archer sends his kindest), just so I can keep a close
eye on what's going on, in an attempt to discover what exactly was happening in and around
our little North Eastern den of quaintness. In fact almost as close an eye on things
as Major Ingram's insurance company! It is so quaint in fact that someone actually
remembers the date they first changed the clocks! Quite how you actually "save"
daylight by bill or otherwise frankly eludes me. As for legislation, rationalised or
otherwise in 1925, it is even more out of date than I'd thought, even more of a reason to
dump the idea and leave them (the clocks) alone. Who actually cares if we end up having a
different time zone to the rest of Europe? We have one of them for most of it now. Keep
our time, like our currency, our own I say, and what's more I won't then have to call in a
quantum physicist twice a year to change the clock on my video recorder!
Now then who was it that wrote "If you can keep your head when all around are losing
theirs"? No it wasn't the carnival adjudicators on carnival queen selection night
after I threatened to bare my legs. Nor was it a lone "sober driver" left
standing at the bar. No it was our very own Mr Kipling, the poet not the cakes man!
Perhaps in Sheringham at least we may find that losing one's head to the addles of drink
may soon be a thing of the past, well in a public open designated space at least. God
knows what I'd do if my swift potting shed 1/5th gill of Harvey's became an illegal
pastime! Yes it appears that from now on, toleration of loutish drunken lamppost climbing
antics will be banned from our streets, no more loud noise or marauding about in public
causing obstructions or nuisance to other road users. All this is due to a new unique
police directive piloted here in Sheringham. This is great me thinks. Uninterrupted late
night satellite viewing at last! As long as you live within one of these
"zones", however it is encouraging to see justice and common sense prevailing.
It may now mean that with all the "special" patrols up and down the High Street
and along the Prom, that all those hardened "party animals" may be persuaded to
"get on down" elsewhere. Feeling they might have to alight the High Street in
favour of less auspicious haunts such as the Pretty Corner Woods for example. Now I know I
might sound a little pious about this, but just think, if people are hell bent on taking
their campaign of bingeing on WKD and Fosters mixed and washed down with a little Red Bull
respectively, and latterly laying down a deposit of overindulgence on the pavement, then
it must be better to do that out of the town than in. Not a bad idea really, at least the
niff of vomit would pale into insignificance from the overwhelming whiff in the air of the
ever-increasing parcels of doo that already ingratiate the entire area. The only problem
is getting there. They could go by taxi, but I doubt if they'd have enough money left over
from their "Off licence Crawl" to pay the fare, now that they've all gone up! A
full 30p rise and extra if you've got baggage. So forget about taking the other half with
you. This rise so I'm told, was imposed on the taxi firms by a Local Council Authority not
that far away!
So to get back to my subject, brilliant an idea as it is, the only flaw I can see looking
at it objectively is, that the signs they have erected to inform us whether we're in a
"Zone" or not are so minuscule. Just imagine if you will, Mr Twelve Pinter has
enough trouble just trying to stand, let alone having to read and inwardly digest the whys
and wherefores of areas of the law. Try as he might to find his microscope about his
person, to read the sign might be problematic enough, let alone being able to enact upon
these instructions/warnings would be another matter.
Still I suppose spotting the prospective lout on a night out would become easy, he/she
would be the one carrying a |
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magnifying glass and a cheque book (for the taxi) in their
top pockets, along with large carrier bags laden with booze - filled thermos flasks
labelled TEA in large print, just in case the bottles of hooch were confiscated.
So with all that trouble safely taken care of now, all they have left to tackle is the
lethargic troglodyte little darlings that congregate in number across the road at the
Amusement/Yesu junction at the North end of our High Street most weekends and evenings.
Most however, I must say only drunk on the exuberance of youthfulness, and the ideology of
infallibility. All oozing insurmountable confidence at the notion that any/ every motorist
motoring down that end of the street, has indeed all the time in the world, and will
in-fact, wait around for most of the night for them to move slothfully out of the way.
With reverent patience and dignity they think the motorist will turn a reddened bashful
cheek at the inert yet deliberate expletive finger gesture, accompanied sometimes by a
verbal ensemble as the driver carefully meanders and negotiates a safe passage through the
massed crowd. I'm afraid some of our resident race drivers may not be quite as reasonable
and as understanding. When travelling at speed impressing the local talent, some folks
mind's may be else where and not on what in the road in front of them. With this blatant
"untouchable attitude" to the fore, many, I fear, may not actually make it to
their 14th birthdays in one piece. An observation now perhaps, but to those responsible
for our up and coming generations, please note I'm sure that this could be an accident
waiting to happen. Tally ho for now. Yours truly Vic. |
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