Christmas Irritants 2021

 

Perhaps it's me and some “unconscious bias” but I find that my list of candidates for irritant of the year for 2020 have failed to mend their ways.  Theresa May continued her selective recollections but just does not get it that nobody cares. Gary Linekar whined on whilst challenging Tittymarsh for ubiquity and poor Sam Coates had difficulty keeping his halo in place as he inclined his head in conspiratorial inquiry with each broadcasting scoop. Jeremy Hunt’s brass neck extended to improve his view in hindsight whilst wee Nicola continued to be her ghastly self.  Winkleperson, resplendent in the King’s new suit of clothes just doesn’t get it either – she is neither funny nor interesting.  Mushroom still hasn’t worked out what Motsi Mabuse is for but she remains uneasy on the eye. I’m almost ready to rehabilitate Jurgen Klopp, whose tooth whitening job looks like it needs a touch up but I will reserve my judgment on the sour kraut until Liverpool start losing a few. Meantime the bling-laden Lewis Hamilton continues to opine on everything that shouldn’t be bothering a millionaire, let alone one dubbed a knight of the realm for services to arcade games.  And what can be said of the Sussexes without one’s stomach churning?

But 2021 has still thrown up a few new irritants.  The forced confection of jollity from Alexander Armstrong, who gets everywhere these days, should make Classic FM a no-go area, at least until the ding dong merrily season is over for another year.  And what an entrance from Julian Knight, Chairman of the Digital Culture Media and Sports Parliamentary Committee, even though your no-nonsense star chamber waistcoat didn’t fit.  No doubting where you stand on Yorkshire County Cricket Club but just a shame you didn’t take account of all the evidence before pronouncing sentence. Alexander  and Julian join of last years worthy mentions who continued to plough on regardless.  Their Royal High-horses, the brand now firmly gripped by Meghan Duchess of Sussex, continued to astonish and dismay as it seemed not to occur to either them that the rest of humanity had rather more to concern them their soppy, cringeworthy and excrescent manifesto. Nevertheless, the crown this year goes to anyone who proclaims “our” NHS, George Cross, as “world class.”   Just try proclaiming that that to the soldiers, sailors and airmen (sorry, now “aviators”) who will spend yet another Christmas season helping out!

 

 

Lockdown by Stealth

 

Have we begun another lockdown by stealth?  If nothing else, the rising uncertainty is reported to be having a significant effect on Christmas bookings in the hospitality industry. Similarly in the residential environment, the prospect of another disjointed festival looms. Like the dissident constantly in fear of a knock on the door by the secret police, we sit on the edge of the sofa waiting for the Prime Minister to interrupt the evening’s viewing with yet another grave announcement (whatever happened to Parliament for grave announcements, by the way).  Perhaps the Prime Minister knows more than he feels able to tell us and, in the interests of maintaining public morale, we should trust his judgement to get on with things on our cowering behalf.  Unfortunately, the evidence of competence is not on his side and our confidence in his authority may be misplaced.  Against the predictable chaotic response to the exhortation for the population to turn up for a free-for-all at the nearest vaccination centre and order a suitable supply of lateral flow tests, we are told that the so-called vaccine passport is essential to prevent spreading “the virus” in crowded settings.  But hang on – to get a vaccine passport and attend potential super-spreader events, I need two doses of a vaccine.  However, according to the PM, two doses of the vaccine are not enough to be effective and so I need a third booster dose. So what, for goodness sake, is the point of a vaccine passport, the qualification for which is an, ineffective, two doses when the minimum requirement appears to be three shots?

Send In The Clowns

 As the stables are cleared at Yorkshire County Cricket Club, presumably in a desperate attempt to regain favour with the English Cricket Board and, thereby, avoid bankruptcy, I note that Darren Gough has been appointed the “interim” Managing Director of Cricket.  I have never met Darren Gough although I have admired him playing cricket and putting on a creditable show to win the third series of Strictly Come Dancing.  According to Sky, he is currently enjoying a “lucrative broadcasting career.”  The closest I came to him was at New Road, the home  Worcester County Cricket Club, in June 1992 during a match between Worcestershire and Yorkshire (which Worcestershire won comfortably).  In those days, Worcestershire Members, of which I was one at the time, could sit to the side of the Members Pavilion under the visiting players dressing room balcony.  During a lull in play on the day in question, Darren Gough held forth in an extraordinary monologue from the balcony  - impressing his opinions on anyone within earshot who cared to note his pearls of wisdom.  Amongst other things, Yorkshire’s Managing Director of Cricket designate was particularly forthright about the inadequacies of the Yorkshire Committee in general and the Chairman in particular.  It is to be hoped that his new relationship with Lord Patel, the Yorkshire Chairman, will be less problematic otherwise the employment designation of “interim” may prove a hostage to fortune.