Hi Everyone
Of course, every country in the world has traditions whether it is Putin showing off his military power in Red Square every May or that funny little man in North Korea counting his rockets as they go past just in case somebody has stolen one. In the last few days, two of our traditions have been played out. Now as I approach middle age perhaps I am getting a little bit cynical but the State Opening of Parliament to me is a total farce and belongs to put in a box called history. Charles and Camilla trundle from Buckingham Palace to the Houses of Parliament in the golden coach where a man in a fancy dress with a black stick or rod as I am supposed to call it has the door slammed in his face before he hits the door with the rod to gain entry followed by over 600 members of Parliament who join the Lords wearing their red robes in their den, inviting the quip that Christmas had started early, to listen to Charles tell our leaders what the political party in power is going to do in the next session of Parliament. Charles looked as excited as me about it all and probably disagreed with most of its content. Then about 550 MPs disappeared for lunch at the Ritz or KFC leaving a few devoted souls to run the country. After all that, many of us know that most of what the government says it is going to do is either unaffordable or they will say that world events have trashed their plans. Add in the fact that they all go off for Christmas in about three weeks, returning well after everyone else has returned to work (not me of course) in the New Year. What the younger generation. if they bothered to watch the pantomime thought of it makes me shudder.. Now after all that Rubbish I have to say that I enjoy tradition. Later in the week came one of the most iconic traditions we have, the Royal British Legion Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall in London where men and women who served our country in the conflicts since WW1 are remembered. This year was the hundredth occasion since the festival was started in 1923. Every year you cannot help but appreciate the work and precision that goes into the evening but more importantly how both past and present servicemen and women are remembered and appreciated. I have attended our local remembrance service for a number of years and I am encouraged to see the number of people there increasing year by year even though the weather this year was cold and wet. Tradition is part of our lives and long may it continue but some traditions have to reflect our changing world and their relevance to our young generation.
Another tradition that seems to be typically British is the afternoon tea taken between lunch and dinner. It seems to have made a revival in recent times with many cafes, hotels, and restaurants offering afternoon tea. What you get is a tower of variously filled very small sandwiches that hardly satisfy hunger, mini cakes that many of us would be better off not eating, and of course tea. All this comes with dainty china cups, saucers, and plates while talking with our friends about nothing much in particular knowing that we are hardly getting good value for money. Finally, on the two occasions that I have experienced this dubious tradition I have had to look on the wardrobe door to change into more suitable clothes. Over sixty years ago we had afternoon tea every Sunday when I accompanied Dot and her family to her grandparents. We had to be there at 3pm to be ushered into the front room or parlour as it was often known. About an hour and a half later we would see Grandma and Grandad first the first time as the door to the Kitchen opened to reveal a table groaning with cooked meats, pickled onions, pickled red cabbage, pickled beetroot, lettuce, celary, and spring onions. This was followed by jelly, blancmange, tinned apricots, cream, and other tinned fruit all finished off with Grandad's specialty - cake which, every week, we were warned would have to be thrown into the bin if we didn't eat it all. Now that is what I call a proper afternoon tea. The only discomfort apart from the fact that we had eaten too much was the limited legroom under the table where buckets of coal were stored to feed the open fire.
My lovely mother in law appears to be in the news again this week. She had a wonderful range of old fashioned words and sayings, one of which was "Don't wash your dirty linen in public". For whatever reason our Prime Minister has sacked his Home Secretary this week. Her reaction was to launch a public, bitter, and personal attack on the Prime Minister. I really don't care whether they like each other, nor do I care what they think of each other's competence. I together with many others will decide that at the next election but what I do know is that they are both in the same political party. To quote a sporting analogy, team spirit is essential for success otherwise relegation beckons. Anyway, our past home secretary apparently has ambitions to be Prime Minister in the near future. Surely not another Boris lurking in the wings.
Just a Thought:
There's a need to respect the past, but it's a mistake to revere the past.
Some of my friends were discussing how to make a great toasted sandwich. I played Brevilles advocate.
Tea is for mugs.
Brian
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