Diary of a Superannuated Soul - w/e 15/04/2000
John Copeland
From H.M. Inspector of Taxes I received forms yesterday which have to
be completed by September, giving full details of my income for the
past financial year. This is the first time that I have had to
complete a return since I was made redundant way back in 1988, and
this morning I filled it in and sent it off. It took me just thirteen
minutes to complete, four of them being spent trying to find out my
national insurance number. One of the advantages of having little
money is that it cannot be taken away from you, which is some comfort.
Another is that I do not have to employ the services of those rip-off
accountants. Maybe this simple, unsophisticated, almost monk-like life
I now lead, in which materialism has no part, is the basis of the good
life. Anyway, I was thankful that I did not have to take hours and
hours, as some rich people do, to complete the forms.
Yesterday afternoon I went with Mrs. Copeland to Lincoln to purchase a
new firescreen and some more grass seed. I was amazed at the
unbelievable scruffiness of the populace, all looking so shabby and
poor, with not a man to be seen wearing a tie. Yobboes with their
hair shaven and wearing earrings were using mobile telephones, as were
a number of silly young females, whom Dr. Johnson would no doubt have
referred to as "wretched unidea'd girls". It really does seem that
mobile telephones have become the plaything of Napoleon's new middle
classes. Nowadays, because of this zombie image of these appliances,
I do not like to admit that I have one. I suppose, though, that I can
always make the true excuse that I only use the mobile for
emergencies.
Whenever I see these uncouth youths it makes me realise that education
in this country is largely a waste of time, particularly so far as 70%
of the populace is concerned. It would seem that during their eleven
years of compulsory schooling many children have sat for most of the
time with their ears blocked up and their eyes closed, not even
managing to master the rudimentary principles of their native
language. And yet, in the face of this overwhelming evidence that
education only benefits a small percentage of the population, we go on
believing that all will be well if we pour more and more money into
the schools.
After a morning spent clearing up the garden, we went to the local
Club, where I enjoyed a couple of pints of "Old Speckled Hen",
followed by a half of Everard's "Old Original". Unfortunately, there
were only a few of the villagers present, which was rather
disappointing. After lunch, despite the intake of alcohol which made
me feel a little somnolent, I undertook the annual task of painting
the oil tank. As I was on the top of the tank painting away, the
bitterly cold north-easterly wind blowing in my hair, the paint
dripping down my arms, I thought to myself: "This is the life! Rich
people do not have this pleasure".
At home in the evening. I was amazed to read in "The Independent on
Sunday" that the dreadful film "Magnolia" that Mrs. Copeland and I saw
last week, and which we both disliked so much, was described in the
"Culture" section as "devastating and dazzling". I sometimes wonder
whether we see the same films in Lincoln that the critics see, for in
no way can this dreadful film be described as dazzling.
What made it so utterly awful was the loud and raucous background
music which, in many parts, completely drowned the voices of the
actors so that you could not hear a word they were saying. No doubt
"The Guardian" will say this is a revolutionary concept in
film-making, a real breakthrough in technique. Maybe, though, it
makes some sense, for when the dialogue is dreadful, as it is in so
many American films, it seems a good idea to block it out. Such a
simple idea, yet nobody has thought of it before, but then good ideas
are nearly always simple.
MONDAY 10th APRIL
A day of maintenance, finishing off the painting of the oil tank;
clearing up the garden shed; and cleaning the windows. Having seen
about six pheasants busily eating the grass seed that I put in over
the weekend, I erected some netting to stop this ungrateful behaviour.
These birds have wrought havoc in Mrs. Copeland's garden, pecking off
the shoots of many plants, and I have got the blame for having
encouraged the pheasants by feeding them during the winter. Whenever
we look out into the garden there are never less than about five
pheasants pecking away, having the feast of their lives. It really is
too bad.
However, I shall stop feeding the birds, including the pheasants, at
the end of this month, for it is said that providing them with this
food makes them lazy, rather like giving welfare benefits to
Napoleon's new middle classes. The birds take the easy option of
eating the food provided, instead of getting grubs and slugs which are
better for their young.
After lunch I cleared up the garden shed, taking everything out and
throwing away a high percentage of the stored items, including
innumerable pieces of wood. I could not believe how much rubbish had
accumulated, but I suppose this results from always wanting to hoard
things - a principle which Mrs. Copeland describes as being quite
ridiculous at my age, for it will only mean more work for our
daughters when they have to sort everything out when I have departed
this life. I suppose she has a point.
Scanned and set up the photographs for my web site in the evening.
This week they are all devoted to flowers, which I enjoy photographing
far more than people, most of whom always seem to have their eyes
closed when I take pictures of them. I suppose an additional factor
is that, in addition to this lack of interest, I have no skills
whatsoever in taking portraits.
I have finished reading "Mr. Phillips". The book began well, but
seemed to lose direction halfway through, ending up in a very timid
and uninspiring manner. I have now started reading a re-issued book
"The Devil's Tinderbox - Dresden 1945", by Alexander McKee. It is a
vivid account of this terrible and unnecessary bombing, one of the
less creditable war actions of this country. I liked the following
comment:-
"Hitler's system was methodically based on the old principle of
'divide and rule'; it was far from being the monolithic marvel of
matchless efficiency so admired or dreaded by those outside the Third
Reich. It was also bureaucratically paper-bound to a degree rivalling
even that of the British military accounting system of 1900, which it
took all the energies of some Boer farmers to demolish. The British
army found that either it could account or it could fight, but it
could not do both at the same time. In his turn, Speer was to remark
on the enthusiasm with which managers of bombed factories reported
that they had lost all their files in the fires lit by Bomber Command
and that now, if the Reichsminister so wished, they could devote all
their energies to the war".
TUESDAY 11 APRIL
Woke up with an almighty headache at about 3 a.m, but thankfully four
tablets of Solpadeine, taken over a period of four hours, eventually
cleared up the pain, even though leaving me feeling a bit washed out.
My spirits were not helped by absolutely appalling weather which
prevented me from working outside. It was bitterly cold in the
north-east wind that has been with us for the past ten days or more,
and by the drizzle that went on throughout the day, without a sign of
the sun. In another ten weeks' time the nights will start drawing in
again!
As I have remarked before, I now manage to escape the psychobabble of
those demented women writers in "The Times" by throwing away Section 2
in which they are now mainly confined, but there are still articles
written by women in the main section that continue to infuriate me.
Today, for example, Libby Purves, whose comments I often agree with,
was condemning the decision of the Speaker of the House of Commons to
ban the breast-feeding of babies on the premises.
This wise and decent ruling has, as might be expected, been roundly
condemned by Ms Purves who writes: "Only the ignorant or prurient
suppose that public breastfeeding is disruptive. In reality a feeding
baby is quiet and intent, and after the first week or so a mother is
unobtrusive, pushing up her sweater and deftly applying the child.....
If some Members are made uncomfortable by them, good. I do not
particularly want to be governed by people who are nervous of infancy
and physicality".
There is no doubt that I shall have to stop reading these women
writers, for they make me so angry, maybe because they make me feel
so old with their new 'n' improved values that I cannot and do not
want to share. The impression given is that we must be allowed to
behave as we wish, without any kind of restraint on our selfishness.
We can munch and slurp our way through films at the cinema, without
bothering about other people in the audience; we can have excitable
conversations on our mobiles in trains with a total disregard for
other passengers; and we must be allowed to wear whatever we wish,
ignoring old fuddy-duddy rules about being smart and presentable when
attending formal functions.
In the past, the restraints on behaviour were called good manners.
They were based on the very sound and decent principle that we
should show a consideration for others, and that we should
accordingly moderate our behaviour in terms of this respect.
Nowadays, in a belief that we should be free to express our
individuality, we appear to have an emotional correctness in which
self-indulgence and selfishness have triumphed over standards of
decency and restraint. Ironically, far from bringing about a more
caring and concerned society, these new values seem to have resulted
in a greater intolerance and intemperance.
I think I shall post the article to Widow Nell, for it will make a
good subject for discussion when we meet on Thursday afternoon. I
know, though, just what she will say: "These silly young women, with
absolutely no experience, should be at home with their babies where
they belong! Dear, oh dearie me, what nonsense!"
Fortunately the excellent Speaker of the House of Commons - a woman
with the rare characteristics of dignity, commonsense and a believer
in the good old fashioned values - will continue this much needed ban
on breast-feeding, so all is not lost. On the other hand, it seems
that all is lost in the pubs, for in addition to allowing them to open
all day, proposed legislation will permit children to go into the
bars. During my lifetime I have seen pubs deteriorate from being an
exclusive male stronghold, offering an escape from the family, to
allowing women in and now children. Today, therefore there is no
escape for men. Still, they have only themselves to blame for their
weakness that has allowed this nonsense of political correctness to
gain such a secure foothold.
Sadly, as the years go by in my old age I seem to dislike women,
especially the younger ones, more and more. In terms of psychobabble,
this misogyny will probably be seen as a defensive action, based on
the realisation that these young women see me as an old man who is
well and truly over the hill, and who has nothing more to offer except
a belief in old fashioned and discredited manners. Even so, I
continue to dislike their writing and their silliness on television.
As Nell said so rightly a few weeks ago: "Whenever you see a woman on
television these days she is always giggling".
Braving the rain I went in to town to collect my latest batch of
photographs during the morning, most of them of Chloe's recent
birthday party. Unfortunately, the photographs had not come out all
that well, which is a great shame, but as remarked earlier, I just
cannot take photographs of people, young or old.
After a fairly relaxed afternoon, I spent the evening by the fireside,
reading the book on the bombing of Dresden by Alexander McKee. The
impression is given that the author is not all that keen on Winston
Churchill, for he makes the point that "impulsive attraction to large
schemes with insufficient regard to the means available remained a
basic characteristic of his leadership". Mr. McKee makes the more
valid point that Britain went to war to preserve the independence of
Poland, yet readily agreed to Russia taking 48% of the country's
territory.
On "The World Tonight" on the wireless I heard that Vauxhall will be
taking no notice of the Government's measures to force car
manufacturers to lower their prices. It is a fine example of how we
are now controlled by international companies rather than by
Westminster, politics being totally ineffective in this country. That
is why I shall not bother to vote at the next election, for it is all
such a waste of time.
WEDNESDAY 12 APRIL
Reading "The Times" in bed this morning before getting up about 9
o'clock, I saw that David Irving, the right-wing historian who has
suggested in his books that Hitler knew nothing about the Holocaust,
had lost his libel case against an American woman academic and now
faces a legal bill of Ł2.5m. As always, the lawyers are the main
beneficiaries of these libel cases. Just how Mr. Irving, who was
branded as being anti-Semitic by the Judge, imagined that he could
ever win his case must remain a mystery. During the court proceedings
he argued that the Jews deserved to be disliked, being loathed in
every country they entered. Their financiers, he said, were crooked
and generated anti-Semitism by their greed and mendacity.
I have all of Mr. Irving's books in my collection, but although I have
always enjoyed his detailed and painstaking research, I have found
it difficult to understand how he has tried to lessen the impact of
the Holocaust. It seems sad that such an able historian, who was
among the first to point out that the so-called Hitler diaries were a
fake, should allow his apparent dislike of the Jews to mar his better
judgement.
Whilst reading the newspaper I glanced through today's television
programme schedule. Between 8 - 9 p.m. BBC1 had a programme called
"Dale's All Stars with the National Lottery"; BBC2 was offering "Two
Fat Ladies" at 8 p.m., followed by "The Naked Chef", and later on a
repeat of "Steptoe and Son"; ' Channel 4 had "She's Gotta Have It" at
8.30 p.m., and later on "Sex and the City", followed by "Eurotrash";
and Channel 5 was to give us "Porno Goes Pop" and "Compromising
Situations" which will be explaining that "the once covert 'dirty mac'
business has become a multi-billion dollar mainstream industry with a
film output matching that of Hollywood".
As I tiresomely mentioned in this journal, I have this terrible fear
that I shall end up watching television in the final years of my old
age, condemned because of lack of energy, mental as well as physical,
to endure all this rubbish. Most of my older friends have ended up
in this sickening manner, and as one of them said to me recently:
"What makes you think you will be any different?" It is a frightening
thought. Instead of suggesting that we geriatrics should "Fight,
fight against the dying of the light", perhaps Dylan Thomas should
have said "Fight, fight against the watching of the idiot's lantern".
Mercifully I can still enjoy books, accepting the wisdom of the old
adage that "one book is worth a score of television programmes", and I
can delight in the more serious presentation of the wireless. But for
how much longer? That is the question.
I also read in "The Times" the obituary of Andre Deutsch, the
publisher who produced so many excellent books, including works of
Laurie Lee, J.K.Galbraith and V.S.Naipaul, which I have in my
collection of 1,350 books. After a lifetime of producing these
excellent works, Mr. Deutsch, unable to compete with the big boys,
sold out in 1996 to Video Collections International, which now
publishes books by Glenn Hoddle, Cliff Richard and the Spice Girls.
Say n'more.
I had planned to continue creosoting daughter Kate's fence panels, but
yet again it was bitterly cold with rain throughout the day. I cannot
recall such an unbelievably miserably Spring, so cold and so sunless.
But I gather that parts of the kingdom, notably Scotland, have had
quite good weather, which will no doubt enable the statisticians to
say, using the manipulation of averages, that it has been the sunniest
and driest spring since records began. It is the frustration in this
country, having to listen to all manner of manipulated figures,
including the inflation index and the unemployment figures, that makes
life so irritating.
The day therefore had to be spent indoors, spending quite a lot of
time on the computer and then doing some household maintenance. Not
surprisingly, the morning seemed to go on for ever, almost as long as
a Sunday, and I was truly thankful when it was lunchtime and I could
settle down to a pint of "Old Peculier".
I had to buy a new hose for our shower unit, but the bathroom shop in
Lincoln did not have the same length, only ones some 6 inches shorter.
I thought that this might just about fit, but this was not the case,
so I had to take it back. Fortunately I managed to purchase the right
length from a builders' merchants, but on fitting it I found that the
spray head was leaking, so I went back into Lincoln on the scooter to
get some washers, only to find that this did not prevent the leakage.
I have therefore put in some sealant, hoping that this will cure the
problem.
The builder who recently undertook the refurbishment of our parlour,
making an excellent job of the work, put on a couple of new doors at
Kate's house this morning. He had estimated Ł10 per door for fitting,
but it took him nearly five hours to complete. As I am paying for
these doors as a gift, I think I shall give the fellow, who is
struggling after setting up on his own, another Ł20 for it is not fair
that he should have to spend all that time for such little
remuneration. Although I loathe Socialism, I have always believed in
the Minimum Wage and paying people a fair rate for their services.
Conversely, I am very much opposed to the rip-off charges of
solicitors and other vultures whom we could well do without.
At home on my own in the evening. Whilst it was still light I cleared
up the leaves around the dustbins, this being on Mrs. Copeland's
worksheet for the day. After that I put my feet up and read some more
about the bombing of Dresden.
THURSDAY 13 APRIL
At long last, after three successive months of not having received a
penny, I won a Ł50 premium bond prize this month. I was planning to
take out the bonds if I did not win this month, so their encashment
has been reprieved.
One of the many rants that I have in this journal is that inflation is
posing a real problem in this country. Yesterday, in an obvious
endorsement of this contention, the International Monetary Fund
severely criticised Chancellor Brown for his Budget spending spree,
arguing that it was too expansive and risked pushing up the pound and
interest rates. But more significantly, the IMF's harsh judgement was
that even before the Budget there were severe inflationary pressures
in the economy - the very point that I have been making. You read it
here first!
Apparently, though, the Government's pre-election spending spree does
not include the police, for our ineffective Home Secretary, Jack
Straw, has admitted that police numbers have gone down and will
continue to do so over the next three years. The predicted numbers
for 2003 are 125,900 compared with 127,158 when the Conservatives were
in power in 1997. Presumably, at a time when crime is dramatically on
the increase, this makes some kind of sense to Napoleon and his men,
but to nobody else.
Yet another day of continuous rain, intermingled with sleet,
preventing further creosoting at Kate's, which means that I am getting
well and truly behind schedule, the aim having been to complete this
work by Easter. This must be one of the wettest and coldest Springs
on record. I did, however, venture into town in the rain, purchasing
some polythene sheeting to put over the grass seed that I have put
down. At breakfast time this morning I saw that six pheasants were
having a right old meal of the seed, gobbling away and taking
absolutely no notice when I tried to shoo them away. The idea is that
the sheeting will stop them eating the seed.
Had a bottle of "Old Peculier" at lunchtime, which made me feel a bit
sleepy, so I had a rest after helping with the washing up, falling
fast asleep in the afternoon tradition of the Third Age. This, of
course, is the slippery slope, and I really must snap out of this
lethargy, for it is so destructive to the mind. Later in the
afternoon, when I was fully awake, or as awake as I ever am these
days, I went to see Widow Nell.
As I expected, she was exasperated with the article I sent her
regarding a defence of breast-feeding in public. "The trouble with
these women journalists", she told me, "is that they have no sense of
the seemly; they have been coarsened by the media. They are very
feminist, all against men". I thought that this comment summed up the
issue in a nutshell, as well as her comment that men of the stature
of Winston Churchill and Enoch Powell would never have tolerated
breast-feeding in the Chamber. How times have changed, and how soft
and spineless we have become, yet as Nell pointed out, women are not
the least bit happier these days.
At home in the evening, sitting by the fireside whilst it was still
raining and so bitterly cold. Unfortunately I did not feel at all
well, having the problems of nausea again. Obviously this trouble
with Meniere's Disease has not yet cleared up, the tinnitus also being
bad today.
FRIDAY 14 APRIL
The shower unit that I tried to repair is still leaking, probably
worse than ever, so this morning I decided to buy an entire new unit,
going with Mrs. Copeland to select a suitable one, knowing that if I
chose one on my own it would be quite the wrong colour and totally
unsuitable. Mrs. Copeland drove in her car, and on the way to the
builders' merchants I offered some helpful advice on changing gear and
points in the Highway Code. Unfortunately, this made my spouse very
cross indeed, for she told me in no uncertain words that when she
retired I need have no fear that she would always be coming round
with me. "I'd pay not to go with you!" she said, rather
unnecessarily, I thought. I sometimes wonder why I bother to give
helpful advice.
Sad to relate, she was also annoyed when I asked the assistant for a
discount when buying the new shower unit, which she was paying for.
"You're embarrassing me, be quiet!" she said sotto voce, but I took no
notice, managing to get Ł5 off. What my spouse does not seem to
realise is that shops are now rapidly destocking for the approaching
recession, and are only too pleased to get rid of items. Not
surprisingly, the latest quarterly survey from the British Chambers of
Commerce indicated that "both manufacturing and service sectors are
contributing to a slowdown in economic growth".
The rest of the morning was spent in putting up the new shower unit,
involving removing the old rawlplugs and making new holes, and having
to repaint the whole bathroom, but at least I managed to finish the
work after a well deserved rest at lunchtime.
I had the first service on my scooter today. Much to my joy, the
garage proprietor - a young fellow who took over the business some
years ago when his father was killed during motor-cycle trials, has
managed to modify the seat that I find so uncomfortable, the tiny and
back-aching one having obviously been designed for little Chinese
riders. rather than overweight and elderly Englishmen.
By the fireside in the evening. In Section 2 of "The Times", which I
usually immediately throw away, I saw that the latest University
league tables had been published, so I looked at the entries. My old
college, the London School of Economics, has fallen from 3rd place to
8th, but I noticed that our local University - the Lincolnshire &
Humberside University - had moved up one place from last year's entry
at the very bottom of the table.
I also saw in the section an article about a woman described as "the
US parenting guru" who believes that for those women who are torn
between professional ambition and a duty to their children, the advice
should be "follow your heart". Nothing about following the need to
make childhood a very special time, only the self gratification of the
parent. As everybody knows, all these parenting "experts" are
basically trying to assuage the guilt that all working mothers so
rightly have in leaving their young ones with childminders. Why do
these working mothers just not say that they feel terribly guilty
about leaving their offspring but they want the money? We might at
least then admire their honesty.
SATURDAY 15 APRIL
A couple of jokes by e-mail that I enjoyed this week:-
A young lawyer was driving his new Lexus when he saw two men eating
grass by the road side. He stopped and got out to investigate. "Why
are you eating grass?", he asked one man.
"We don't have any money for food.", the poor man replied.
"Oh, come along with me then.", said the lawyer.
"But sir, I have a wife with two children!"
"Bring them along! And you, come with us too!", he said to the other
man.
"But sir, I have a wife with six children!" the second man said.
"Bring them as well!", said the lawyer.
He called his wife and asked her to come over and take the second
man's family. They all climbed into the cars. Once underway, one of
the poor fellows says, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking
all of us with you."
The lawyer replied, "No problem, the grass at my home is about two
feet tall!"
and
A woman takes a lover home during the day while her husband is at
work. Her 9-year-old son comes home unexpectedly so she puts him in
the closet and shuts the door.
Her husband also comes home, so she puts her lover in the closet with
the little boy.
The little boy says: "Dark in here"
The man says, "Yes, it is."
The boy says: "I have a baseball"
The man replies: "that's nice"
The boy says: "want to buy it?"
The man replies: "No, thanks."
The boy says: "My dad's outside"
The man replies: "OK, how much?"
The boy: "$25."
In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the lover are
in the closet together.
The boy say's: "Dark in here"
The man replies: "Yes, it is"
The boy says: "I have a baseball mitt."
Remembering the last time, he asks: "How much?"
The boy replies: "$75"
The man replies: "Fine"
A few days later, the father says to the boy: "Grab your glove. Let's
go outside and toss the baseball back and forth."
The boy says: "I can't, I sold them."
Father asks: "How much did you sell them for?"
Boy replies: "$100".
The father says: "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like
that, it is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take
you to church and make you confess."
They go to church and the father makes the little boy sit in the
confession booth and he closes the door.
The boy says: "Dark in here."
The Priest says: "Don't start that again!"
Web site at http://www.johncopeland.clara.net