Happy Morning

 Savouring my cup of tea on the morning of 1 January 2021

Christmas Irritants 2020

I’d like to start by thanking all those whose Christmas greetings, from their villas in Monnetnirvana, wished me everything I deserved from Brexit.  They, apparently, remained proudly and steadfastly “European” so thank you all for reminding me of my petty small mindedness.  Which leads nicely to number nine, the bitter and malevolent Theresa May for whom, as we all know, Brexit means Brexit.  Mushroom suggests a few more long walks but, this time, pausing for breath occasionally to take a good look in the mirror of your hiking compass.  Gary Lineker, at number eight could do with some damping of his moral compass.  Mushroom is sick to death of the saintly Lineker’s 360-degree views on everything delivered with all the smug assurance that working for the BBC, amongst others, at £1.75m a year allows. Sam Coates, Sky’s Deputy Political Editor is enjoying particular prominence due to the enforced absence of his boss, the ghastly Beth Rigby, who has been rightly yellow-carded for a breath-taking display of Covid hypocrisy.  The sea green incorruptible Coates has a substantial arsenal of hindsight with which to berate the Government in general and the Prime Minister in particular (who he regularly invites to take personal responsibility for every outcome of policy).  Now revelling in his promotion he tantalises his viewers with enigmatic innuendo and contrived metaphors which make Mushroom squirm.  Mushroom hopes you too are caught out and follow your boss to the naughty step.  Jeremy Hunt, the longest serving Health Secretary in parliamentary history, oversaw a catalogue of disasters including the junior doctor’s strike and publicly backed Theresa May’s Brexit sell-out.  He now, petulantly, delivers his pearls of hindsight on health matters from the cosy sinecure as Chairman of the Health and Social Care Select Committee (vice Sarah Wollaston who got what she deserved in the 2019 General Election).  At number five, the teflon President Nicola Krankie blames everything that goes wrong on Westminster and claims personal credit for the little that goes right.  This is all very tiresome but Mushroom takes comfort from the storm clouds of revelation on the horizon and looks forward to bitter and spiteful allegations and counter allegations to come as she and her sociable old boss, Alex Salmond, square up in their fight for political survival. Wee Nicola only just pips the strabismic Claudia Winkleman, reportedly the highest earning woman in the BBC with a salary well over three times that lavished on Dominic Cummings.  As the chorus line Gilbert & Sullivan’s Trial by Jury observes: “she has often been taken for forty three/In the dusk, with a light behind her.”  Mushroom repeats his advice to get a haircut. And while on the subject of rotten tomatoes, mention at number 3 goes to the pneumatic Motsi Mabuse – Mushroom wonders who she is and what is she for.  For Number 3 this year goes to Jurgen Klopp whose success as a football manager could not be questioned were he not a Kraut.  His shaggy chic appearance, teeth flashing like an aircraft anti-collision beacon and meticulous attention to English grammar, as only Germans can, simply gets up my nose.  I hesitated in nominating Lewis Hamilton again, what with current sensitivities and the danger of being cancelled for not showing solidarity to his causes.  But during the year this over-paid kart racer has excelled in promoting Marxist political policies which only serve to divide society and isolate whole of it chunks in hand-wringing victimhood.  We shall hear more of this as Hamilton “guest edits” Today on BBC Radio Four on Boxing Day, presumably by audio link from his yacht in sunnier climes.  Excruciating as Hamilton’s posturing has been, unlike in previous years where it has been difficult to separate the top three, in 2020, the clear irritants of the year are Their Royal High Horses, Megananharry.  Like the protected species they have become, the super-woke Sussexes have reluctantly accepted great wealth and riches to highlight and elevate diverse perspectives and voices.  They have even taken the moral high ground by endorsing an “amazing” coffee brand, the world’s first instant oat milk latte.  For Meghan, just like Claudia, a personal grooming tip for 2021 - wear longer dresses. Where Mushroom comes from, Bonnie Lass, the sight of those lower limbs bearing your Californian pile of piffle would attract an endearing rejoinder – “hadaway sparras’ ankles.”

  

A Chipmunk Surprise

One of the features of a Blogger is the ability to track the number of page views.  Occasionally I recognise people I know through their comments but I received a rare surprise a couple of days ago when a reader, referencing my Chipmunk flying recollection in a recent post, contacted me and pointed out that next January it will be 50 years since I had sent him on his first solo flight from the, then, satellite airfield, Rufforth.  I scurried to my Pilot's Flying Log Book and there he was for January 25th 1971, his name underlined as was my practice to indicate a "first solo."  I note that I flew 5 times that day, including supervising the first solo from Air Traffic Control, so I doubt whether I would have stopped for lunch.

The nicest part of the surprise contact is that my old student informs me that he is a part owner of a civilian registered Chipmunk and he has invited me to fly it with him when the weather gets better next year.  Naturally, I accepted the invitation with alacrity and blew the dust from an old copy of "Chipmunk T Mk10 Pilot's Notes." Turning to the handling section I note that “the aircraft is pleasant to fly; the controls are light and well harmonised and remain responsive throughout the speed range.”   Just as I remembered it! This is me, in the back, somewhere over a snow covered Yorkshire a month later in 1971.

Kneeling

 

Wayne Rooney and other disciples, terrified of offending woke orthodoxy and anxious to signal their virtue, were quickly off their marks to condemn the Millwall football supporters who expressed their disagreement with their players “taking the knee” before their recent game with derby County.  Most football fans, Newcastle United fans in particular, have experienced the utter desolation of relegation from one league to another - from being the centre of attention in the Premier League of football consciousness to the also-rans of the Championship, League One and below.  Its not a nice feeling as over-paid ex-players explain your demise in patronising clichés.  Neither is it, I suppose, particularly comfortable being white working class in post-industrial Britain – feeling a stranger in your own land and pushed to the fringes of political consciousness by the relentless woke agenda which doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the values that, hitherto, have shaped your life.  It could be that, far from disagreeing with the concept of equality, the Millwall supporters, probably mostly white working class, were simply expressing their own frustration and sense of victimisation at the swing of the political pendulum?