Proprietors of Land & Citizens of the City

Or “Everything they say it is, that’s what it’s not…”

A conversation the other day touched upon a theme often covered in public life today : the apparently decreasing participation of people, particularly the young, in community-based civic activity. At a time when more and more political kudos is put into terms like “community participation”, there does seem to be a real decline in the thing itself. Personally, I’m not so surprised. In my view, the “New Labour Tendency” is to use words in a way which is precisely the opposite of their real meaning. Perhaps the young, being more media-savvy, cottoned on to this before the rest of us, and opted out of the process. However, this isn’t the whole story. The ongoing obsession with home ownership (and proprietorship of land in general) has increasingly excluded many (the “Have Nots”), and made the “Havs” increasingly insulated in their political outlook, to the extent that many no longer conform to the expectations which some of us still have of citizens of the city.

Tackling the Worcester Wimp Syndrome

A short while ago, at about 3pm this afternoon, I was walking along a busy (with pedestrians) Worcester city centre pavement when a gang of young male yobbos (can’t think of a better description) came hurtling towards me on bicycles (mainly of the small, silly kind apparently favoured by the Worcester youths of today). Needless to say, I was the only person to express any disapproval of this behaviour, which could have easily been the cause of a serious accident, nor, in doing so, did I receive any support from my fellow pedestrians, which included some reasonably fit-looking adult males (if one can go by appearance). This toleration of public terrorising (for that’s what this gang’s behaviour was all about) I actually find more intolerable than the yobs themselves.

So let’s get “Tough on Worcester Wimp Syndrome, Tough on the Causes of Worcester Wimp Syndrome”, I say.

Oh, and, yes, a few more “Traffic Taliban” (of the kind favoured by the North Wales Police Constabulary) wouldn’t go amiss in these parts, provided they attend to the real road and pavement terrorists, and not the occasional harmless cyclist using the public footway when trying to avoid deranged motorists.

“Make My Day !” : An Encounter with a 4×4 Fxxxhead

I was cycling along a Worcester suburban street yesterday, when a silver 4×4 – apparently without a silencer – exploded loudly in front of me. “What a Pratt !” I shouted, as the vehicle passed me in the opposite direction, and carried on cycling, only to hear shortly later the approach of the loud, and now angry, vehicle/driver from behind. Yes, I was now being pursued and then confronted.

My first instinct as the bald (ageing skinhead ?) driver pulled up in front of me was to threaten to call the police, which I duly did. However, one part of me had been waiting for such an encounter for some time, and was jolly well going to to make the most of it. So swiftly removing the silencer on my battery of expletives, I  released these onto the offending driver/vehicle in rapid succession.

I think he got my message, only managing a rather feeble “Greenpeace” in response to my tirade. However, seeing that the vehicle had no rear number plate, aside from its other dysfunctions, I thought the situation worthy of police attention. Its equally dysfunctional driver, seeing me withdraw my new alien mo-tiffed handbag from my rucksack,  then decided to make a getaway.

“Hasta La Vista Baby” ! Yes, I have been known as The Terminator.