| Product: |
Room 101 |
| Date: |
05/06/08 (142 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: Moaning is healthy
Disadvantages: No-one likes a moaner
Having recently leaped energetically into my 46th year (almost slipping a disc in the process) I got to thinking for a moment or two about what is expected of me now that the last vestiges of youthful vitality are draining away. Not much, it seems. Moaning is, apparently, the greatest of my talents these days. Nothing gets the youngsters rolling their eyes and shaking their heads more than this old geezer banging on about something or other. So I indulge them. It's my way of sparing them the trauma of having to think of me as someone who was once as young as they are now. The old photos are trauma enough. Hah, if only they knew the half of it!!
* BMW X5s (for the uninitiated, a flashy and expensive 4x4)
I'm not anti-car, by any means. I'm not even anti-BMW (although Audis are better), but... there is something about this big, gaudy, pointless pose-mobile that really gets up my nose. I live in a pleasant country town and these monsters are now everywhere, clogging up the main street, parked half-way across the road and hogging every available parking space (AND the one next to it). They don't even look good. They are hideous in every way. They are the automotive equivalent of a thick Hooray Henry, boozed on 'champers' and begging to be thrown in the river.
A classic case in point: There is a woman who lives over the road from us who has one (no change out of 45 grand!). She takes her two kids to school in it, picks them up for lunch, takes them back again then picks them up after school. The school is less than half a mile away, and a pleasant stroll at that. Here's a good idea: WALK!!
It's true what they say: Money is wasted on the rich. "Vive la révolution!" (Only kidding, but not about the car.)
* Nicole Kidman
I think what tipped me over the edge about the irritating ex Mrs Cruise was that damned Chanel ad on TV. You know the one: "I love to dance." Arrrgh! No doubt she was paid millions for that ego trip and all because someone somewhere decided that Ms Kidman was the next Ingrid Bergman. I remember hearing someone say just that (some half-witted, sycophantic 'showbiz' reporter probably). What a load of nonsense. Ingrid Bergman was one of the classiest of the classy. Ms Kidman is everything but.
Nicole Kidman can't act. (Forget the Oscar; they give Oscars to anyone these days. 'Braveheart' anyone? Six Oscars for what was basically a remake of 'Carry On Up The Khyber' without the laughs.) The only time she ever rises above the dull and monotonous is when she whispers. That's when she's 'acting'. Whisper, whisper... Oscar, thank-you so very much... cue tears and exit stage left. A bad joke.
The late great Dorothy Parker once said of Katherine Hepburn that "she runs the gamut of emotions from A to B". The Sydney stick can only but dream of reaching B.
* Old men in supermarkets
I don't know why but I love supermarkets, especially my local Tesco Extra, a store about the size of a major international airport. If there are 'messages' to be got then I'll happily volunteer, eager to spend half an hour or so trollying around the aisles, doing a little people-watching into the bargain then exchanging some friendly banter with the cheery checkout ladies. But there is one thing that often ruins my experience and that is the sight of plastic 'veg' bags littered all over the place. You probably know what I mean. The bags should be taken one at a time from a cardboard container but some people think nothing of ripping out a handful at a time, teasing one off the top and leaving the rest in a heap on top of the carrots or the oranges. And who are the culprits? Old men, that's who.
What's so difficult about it? You blow on your fingers and pull out a bag, just one. It works every time. But old men grumble and shake their heads, cursing modern technology and tetchily wondering why things can't be simple anymore. I've tried showing them how it's done but they just glower and go on grumbling. Yet it's not really their fault. They are probably dragged shopping by their wives when they'd rather be pottering about the garden or writing angry letters to the local paper about bin collections. Supermarkets weren't designed with old men in mind. Not only do old men litter the place with plastic bags but they stand dopily in the middle of aisles, never realising that people might want to get past. Nope, it just doesn't work. Perhaps if supermarkets offered some kind of seniors creche where wives could dump their husbands before doing their shopping? Some comfy chairs, newspapers, tea bags, pipe tobacco and a TV perhaps?
* 'Activists'
It's not that I disagree that people should fight for a cause or wish to change the world for the better, but what irritates me are the hordes of 'professional' activists who seem capable of little more than carrying out pointless stunts and engaging in childish whining about every fashionable cause under the sun. Greenpeace puts enormous efforts into getting people onto nuclear submarines and oil rigs in order to unfurl banners. The result? Nobody takes a blind bit of notice. 'Eco warriors' swing around the trees for a month or two to hold up road builders. The result? Nobody takes a blind bit of notice and the road gets built anyway (with just a little more expense for the taxpayer). What brought the Soviet Union to its knees? CND? 'Well meaning' doesn't necessarily mean 'well judged'.
The world isn't fair - never has been, never will be - but modern living is not that bad. Professional doom-mongers would do well to concentrate as much on what is good as well as what is bad. Would we really rather be living in those organic, care-free, merry old middle ages? Black Death and serfdom sound fun!
* And finally... a medley that speaks for itself:
Big Brother, Jonathan Ross, The Da Vinci Code, Russell Brand, Yakult, 'non-judgemental' people, sushi, Guinness, Kate Bush, conspiracy theories, Football commentator Alan Green, basketball, people who say they respect my opinion but must politely disagree, car drivers who think truck drivers have eyes in the back of their heads, alarm clocks... the list is endless (I could add cats, but there seems to be a powerful cat lobby around here so I won't. Never cross a cat lover!).
***
Needless to say, if you're an X5-driving old man who loves Nicole Kidman, Yakult and basketball, and 'cares' passionately about everything then you'll probably take issue with me. But don't take it personally. Telling people they're wrong is one of the great pleasures in life. BEING wrong is life itself!
Summary: ermmm...
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