Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Sunday, 7 December 2014
Growing old gracelessly
Bath is packed for all the aforementioned reasons, and I just heard someone whistling, 'Walking in a Winter Wonderland' outside. Hmm.
I took the post about the rogue banner on the pub down last night, because a board member came to find me there, took one look at it and promised to have it down before opening time today, assuring me that it was not the fault of the manager of the place that it went up in the first place, but was simply the result of poor communication and a slightly less than good decision about publicity. She got out of her sick-bed to do that, and I feel a little guilty about it.
As I write this, I have just had a text from the Manager telling me that it has now been taken down. I replied with an 'hooray', adding that sometimes it pays to act like a prima donna. Within 3 minutes of first seeing it the day before yesterday, I vowed to a barmaid (they don't like being called that, but it serves my purposes for this blog - you know, busty peroxide-blonde stereotypes, etc.) that it would be down before the end of the week, but I think even she will be impressed at my powers of persuasion - I know I am.
Which brings us on to how people get themselves into the position whereby they are able to get things done simply by using words - I am thinking about councillors, mayors, committee members, board members and general busy-bodies like me, etc.
It's simple - you just turn yourself into a pain-in-the-arse, but one who sounds as if you know what you are talking about, and when you use your words, you must be prepared to back them up with some excruciatingly embarrassing behaviour - like stamping your feet or screaming so much that you vomit. This is the way that some children who are less interested in gaining the respect of others than getting what they want, succeed.
After the meeting with the board member last night, I ran into an English Heritage architect friend who just so happens to share an office with the official who is dealing with my petition to get those 17th century stone dogs listed. This can do nothing but help, even though the machinery which makes this department go round grinds very slowly and deliberately, and cannot be speeded-up by any mere human intervention.
Of course, it is pointless becoming emotional with machinery, but we must never forget that - at the moment - the largest of machines still need humans to keep them oiled and moving.
This can work in the negative as well, of course. The police are always reminding us that they are 'only human', as if we need any reminding about that.
The older you get, the better you become at this sort of thing, mainly because younger people cannot abide watching people of their parent's generation acting like spoilt children, but older people do not mind adding this minor indignity to the ever-increasing list of other shameful traits - just so long as they get their own way.