Having written two posts on June that were fairly cheerful I started to think of aspects in the month that got me going. After all, I'm not called Grumpy for nothing!
For instance, the idiot fat cats in the world never suffer in hard times. I noticed, there are 172 Civil Servants earning more than the Prime Minister. (£150,000 or more.) Plus more than 100 BBC staff also earn more than David Cameron. (The most senior executive, Carol Thomson earns £333,000 a year.)
Our chief executive of Derby City Council, Adam Wilkinson earns a mere £160,000 a year. Poor man, except that Kent County Council gave him severance pay of £365,000 when he quit as director of environment after twelve months. Justin King, chief executive of Sainsbury's received almost £8,000,000 last year. What a pity they recorded their worst growth in six years, lest some of my more affluent readers try to suggest such indecent bonuses, salaries and pensions are justified. The trend is that the salaries of directors of large companies are increasing whilst profits are decreasing. (BBC News, 4th July.)
The word effluence springs to mind rather than affluence. I notice a loaf of bread made in Nailsworth has up to a hundred customers in the Cotswolds despite costing £21 each. I'm not so sure about the sensibilities of that either in these austere times.
One can argue that one's money is yours to spend as you please, but is it that simple. Whilst half the world starves, Britain is in the middle of the worst depression for many decades and Cabestan, a Swiss company offer a watch for sale at £250,000. (The Scuderia Ferrari One.)
I think that what gets my goat, so to speak, is the hypocrisy of it all, big business and the rich purporting to care whilst continuing to profit massively in a troubled world. Not all company profits are decreasing. I noticed brewers Fuller, Smith and Turner showing great concern for the future. Well, it didn't stop your yearly profits being up 17% on the year, did it lads.
I've suffered several dodgy life threatening experiences over the last few years. So much so that I made a vow not to concern myself with things I can't change. Yet here I am, raving about stupid, greedy imbeciles who really don't deserve a minute of my time. So why do I do it? I refuse to read regularly either The Daily Express or The Daily Mail. What pathetic apologies for newspapers they are. Negative, subversive, biased, frankly unpleasant and pandering to their readers prejudices. It worries me that many, particularly the older generation like my mother in law are influenced by the propaganda of people with a hidden agenda. (I do of course recognise that The Sun wields great influence but I always assume, naively in all probability that most realise the Sun is a comic at heart.) If none of us ever read a newspaper ever again I doubt our lives would be too diminished. We need to know of the world beyond our immediate environment, but how much do we need to know in reality.
Is it paranoia or merely concern that makes me so het up at times. Many things in June besides 'fat cats' caught my eye. In Gloucester Cathedral flower arrangers have been told they must undergo Criminal Record Bureau checks. The usual PC rubbish. Plus the EU attempting to ban the sale of eggs by the dozen is mind bendingly dumb. A dozen is divisible by half, a quarter, a third, a sixth, try that, you metric lovers. I don't know what is worse, the interference or the stupidity.
The police had many, many chances to apprehend a rapist in London and failing to do so makes me angry and not a little sad. This alongside the case of Eddie Gilfoyle whose conviction for murder after eighteen years now seems highly suspect. The police failing to heed the written warning given when Raoul Moat was released from prison is enough to make even the fairest of individuals roar with frustration. (Yet the police had until recently a Home Office Adviser on red tape. Officially 'the independent reducing bureaucracy advocate'.)
France -Inter sacking comedians because they had the temerity to suggest Nicolas Sarkozy is a midget is pathetic but at least it's funny. Of course he is a midget. I too at five feet four am a midget. Of course you are a midget, Sarkozy, so deal with it, you power mad French fool.
Just some of life's irritations from the past weeks. All off my chest now! Do you get steamed up with the world out there or is it just me. And is it the same for my readers overseas? Same or similar problems? How do you cope with it all; I'd love to know.
This was to be the end of this miserable post. Except that I've just had four superb days in the Yorkshire Dales in the motorhome. Met a chap whose father is a lord. A chap without a bit of swagger or brag, what a lovely guy you are. Stayed once again on my favourite campsite, Cow Close Barn near Leyburn. 'Mike, the 'boss', affable and helpful as ever. Dad, Alec, not in the best of health but never one to let his problems affect others. Both utter charmers, plus their equally lovely, hard working wives; always a pleasure to meet again. Four days with my own smashing wife savouring the delights of great people and beautiful countryside. What the heck am I doing letting the idiots in the world get to me. You tell me!