I had to get some wrapping paper and a birthday card, which required a trip into Burton Town Centre. I dread that. Shopping to me is a chore anyway, but in Burton particularly so.
It's the thick, ugly, dirty haired moronic tattoed lardarses that get to me everytime. They wobble around the town, usually eating something from Greggs, in their badly fitting jeans and tight jogging tops. Being towards the end of the day, with the off-licences pubs now open, there wasn't the queue in the shopping precinct that you find on a Saturday morning, and presumably during the week. KP tells me that when she walks to work through the precinct she sees 16 year olds waiting for the Tech to open, with a can of coke and a sausage roll in their soon to be chubby hands outside Greggs.
I went into WH Smith to buy the card and paper - a safe option as most of them wont/can't read, which is the primary function of the 'Modern Major General's sideline store' and a bloke half my age filled the aisle, wobbling towards the chocolate. Luckily I did a right hand dodge (learnt from my first hockey lesson at school) and overtook him in a parallel aisle. (Left hand dodge wasn't on due to the tactic of 'push and go' being limited by his circumference.)
Anyway, I queued behind a woman who was making the most of the 2 for 1 offer on giant chocolate bars, waiting for the one mature shop assistant who could be bothered to take money. (the other one had disappeared to straighten out 'Women's Weeklys' rather than put the customer first.)
I paid and got out of the shop as soon as possible, and found myself behind 2 elderly ladies going towards the bus stop. They of course were normally sized, as they were from a generation that had faced war time rationing, had 'dug for victory' after the war and knew how to cook. Behind me was a young couple discussing someone's hair style at 90 decibels. Hmmm. I wonder if they are deaf. No, had just being blowing their job seekers in the pub. Or at least I hope that was what they were doing, as he littered his conversation with the 'f' word - literally every second word. A hair style, however outrageous, didn't deserve that. Neither did the two old ladies, who were probably used to their husbands and other men not swearing in front of them, holding doors for them, and generally showing them respect. I turned round and glared at them. She must have realised and told him to stop swearing which he did. Wayne Rooney's recent outburst, in comparison, was like Mother Teresa dropping a jar on her foot.
There are two women, one possibly my age but looking older, and her daughter who go round town on disability scooters. Moving the large aluminium brewing tanks into town doesn't cause as much of an obstruction. They are so fat, that they can no longer walk, but they do manage their weekly route to Greggs, Poundland and B and K Bargains. The only time they have ever eaten 'green food' was when one of them didn't spot the mould on the cream cake that had been at the back of their fridge for sometime.
I once waited outside a bank with my friend to close down an account. A young women pulled up next to me to chain her bike to the railing. It was a warm day and I could see her tattoo of a syringe on her arm. I used to think my dad was so square to be shocked by what our generation got up to, but this puts the tin hat on it. If he hadn't have been cremated, he would be spinning in his grave.
I spent another blog having a dig at the Council for their policy of not repairing roads, but they have spent time building warehouses in the town. We should give them credit for this, as it has created some jobs. Generally Burton is a working class town, with limited skilled workforce since the breweries have outsourced much of their more skilled work and automated. Of course most of the people I described would benefit from physical work, but they are probably on Disability Benefit with bad backs. So guess what? young go-getting Eastern Europeans with a desire to better themselves have been imported by the coachload to do the work. Good on them I say!!!
I think that the last and present Government's concern about the pension's crisis comes from the fact that the younger generation pay for the older generations pension. Therefore my generation are paying for our parent's generations pension, as they paid for their parents pension. Admirable but simple practice. The issue for ourselves is that the generation below us are so chronically obese, that they will die before us, thus easing the pensions deficit when their generation got there, as they won't but no one paying into our pension pot.
Apples Peaches Pumpkin Pie - under 30's cut out the pie!!!
The song Apples Peaches Pumpkin Pie - Jay and the Techniques was a huge Northern Soul hit in the mid 70's, when TOTP featured Abba, JJ Barrie and the Brotherhood of Man. Not a period of musical greatness.