Workers, no pay, and snow

I watched the factory workers turn the corner of my road as I took in my pinta at  7a.m. It was silent. I thought of my  friend struggling across London to get into work. I thought of the working parents who are upset that their childminders aka  teachers aren’t able to get to school so that they then could get to work. Bless. Teachers are educators not nannies.

I thought of the head teacher faffing around at my place of work when the boiler was broken in the cold snow weather. I’d phoned in and was told to come to work. I packed up my children aged 4 and 7, caught the three buses and tube across London in the morning rush hour to deposit them at their grandmother’s because the childminder, (gold dust) was not able to take them for a reason I can’t remember and then travelled back on the same route to work only to be told that the school was about to shut and all staff could go home. Would you Adam and Eve it? I was one of the first mother of infants teachers. A veritable freak. The head was one of the million m***********  head teachers who condemned working women, let alone fertile ones. Imagine doing all that today. You’d jus’ say “You know what? Forget it. Dock my wages, do what you like”. That was back in the day when phones were special and employers could tread on any toes. Phones are no longer special, are they?

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” “Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” Describe it but don’t be the victim. Carla said something strong on Corri last night like “Go and control the situation which is yours before someone else does.” I’ll check in as there is no way I should misquote. You wouldn’t want to misquote Shakespeare so why the writers of the best soap ever? Have you appreciated the acting? Have you studied the dramatic irony? Agree, or taste and see for yourself:- “Wouldn’t you rather see for yourself?” Soyinka “The Telephone Conversation”.

Squirmed as Ant and Dec Pan  interviewed young Aggro aka Afro Santos . It’s a language thing, yer get me right bruv?  Aggro said that he had found it a pleasure to be surrounded by mature people (in the TV jungle setting. Remember it is TV land) because he learnt from them and became a better person. Aah. There’s ole wotsername who went into the jungle to drop dress sizes slagging him off for being shallow. Irony there, mate.

Found the noise button for Radio Nova today as Streetlifefm is down : Managers and djs can’t get through the snow. Easy to switch loyalties. Nothing is precious.

A few months back I went to see “Breakfast At Tiffany’s”,  Audrey Hepburn’s film,  down at Stratford Picturehouse. Full with tea and biscuits given freely to me I went and sat in the wrong screen room. There I was watching Tarantino’s “Inglurious Basterds”, the floorboard beginning scene. The cleaner found me and told me  to go into the other screening. That Audrey film was awful. What is all the fuss about? Skinny woman screeching rubbish in a romcom with rain. Yuk. And as for Moon River. Always hated it.  Well I sat it out till I’d finished my sour jelly sweets and milk bottles. On Ebay I found Tarantino’s film for 99p and got it home. Absolutely love it. The camera shots, the suspense, the acting, the story-line. Always a pleasure, Quent.

Watched “Beowulf” on Saturday on telly. Loved it too. Clever stuff, eh?

All took me away from my addiction to “Bid Up TV”

“You can’t please all o’ the people all o’ the time”

Waltham Forest Council is putting on a free Christmas party in Chingford but just for older people.. The Eid and Diwali parties were for all generations and of course the invitation went out to all residents.
Older people inhabit the age group from sometimes 50 but definitely 60 years and onwards. In that span there are such differences that it becomes a challenge to pitch any entertainment appropriately. It’s worth a revision and a bit of market research. I, as a senior, would like to reiterate that the 60 year olds in any London borough come from many ethnic backgrounds and that we were the Hippy generation, the rebels, the Mods and the Rockers, the Profumo affair generation, the Pill pioneers and the topless dressed ones. We are the Reggae stompers, the Dylan troubadours, the first time immigrants who wore ties to breakfast, the ones who formed women’s groups and multi-cultural settings. We run local radio shows (Streetlifefm) and volunteer in the community at local theatres (TRSE) and community action groups. So move over Dean and Frank for a while. Connie, get you to the tea dances where the 60 year olds are invisible. We aren’t all the same eggs in the same basket. What the 76 year old allegedly wants is not what we rising elders want at all. Get me?