According to
this article (via
Great She Elephant), background noise accounts for a few thousand heart attack fatalities each year. Now, I would stop short of saying that unwanted noise is any kind of danger to body and soul, but I think I understand the concept.
There are few things I loath more in life than getting up in the morning and having to listen to the ruddy radio. Normally I breakfast on my own and all is silent, all is golden and I can read whatever happens to be lying on the table (old Viz annuals usually) as I eat my Cornflakes and contemplate the grim road ahead. It's one of those moments that Bukowski talks about in 'It's Ours'. It is indeed mine. Or it was. This morning the folks were buzzing about prior to to leaving on holiday and had just colonised the kitchen. They seem unable to exist without the chatter of radio at any time in their lives, morning being no exception........
It's everywhere. In the car, in their bedroom 24 hrs a day, in the kitchen........Do they never crave a bit of 'Hear a pin drop' silence?
To be honest, I've been a mass of seething rage (easy ladies....) for the past few days. The notion that a fine, relaxing weekend does you a power of good is just that, a notion. No sooner do you hit the working week and all the resentment, impatience, and general foul temper come rolling back over you. As a result I have developed a distinct antipathy towards the following 'groups'
Scotland Rugby fans - How many people go and watch rugby in Scotland? Go on, guess........Club rugger, both pro and amateur...........Let's just say they'd fill but a small corner of Murrayfield. Yet the cunts turn up in their fucking masses to go and watch a bunch of fat bastards chase an egg around a field.......... There I am in Queen St Station staring at an almighty queue to get on the train, before being deprived of a seat by a bunch of wanks in kilts, Saltires and Lion Rampants. Tory voting bell-ends to a man and woman too............let's just say the bit where my bottle of Coke detonated on me was just about the last straw and all I wanted to do was wipe my sticky hands on one of their neatly ironed, newly washed rugger tops. I suggest they all charter some buses next time and leave public transport to people who have a good reason to be going where they're going. At least I would have been entertained by football fans, maybe even threatened or offered a slug of someones Red Square. Anything is preferable to such well mannered and civilised nuisances.
Oh, and before anyone gets any ideas, the Tartan Army can fuck off too.
Private Schools - Oh lordy me! I had a decent day on Saturday all told. North Berwick was lovely and sunny, I got some peace and quiet for a few hours before subjecting myself to the hell ride back to Glasgow. Sunday was good too. Long lie, some speedway and ready for Monday. I made the wrong decision on Monday morning though. Instead of taking the back route down to Great Western Road, I made my way down Belmont St, past 'The' Glasgow Academy. Bad move, for the jumped up little bastards were back from the summer break. Not the kids you understand, it's hardly their fault. No, I mean the parents. What a bunch of arrogant, fuckwitted arseholes. Take for instance the vehicles these absurd creatures turn up in. Bentleys, BMW's, Mercs, Lexuses (or is that Lexi?), not to mention the ubiquitous Chelsea Tractors. Just making the place look untidy I'm afraid, as well as making it absolutely fucking impossible for anyone who lives in the area to get to work by car. Hard to believe, but they're building an extension to the school. Any chance of building a fucking turning area on school grounds too? To be fair, a fair amount of these kids get a chartered bus, or take the underground, but you can still rely on a few hundred wankers to persist in running the kids to the school gate and personally offloading their gear/kissing them goodbye/etc, causing the worlds most unnecessary tailback.
Traffic Wardens - A new standard has been set in traffic control pedantry. My old man got slapped with a fifty quid fine for...........wait for it..................Parking in his own street!!!! I live in a cul-de-dac and it's essentially a non permit residents parking zone. The problem is that some people are allowed to pass their tests without having learned the art of parking properly (Some people pass their tests without knowing how to turn across traffic for heavens sakes) and it ends up with them doing things like parking on street corners, usually with the car a good four feet out into the traffic and making life difficult for pedestrians trying to cross roads. The result is the rather drastic manoeuvre of painting double yellows a good 9 feet into various side streets. Anyway, my dad made the mistake of having half his car on these lines, despite it being well inside the street and nowhere near being an obstacle to pedestrians. I don't know, is it a perverse thing with Traffic Wardens? Is it the fear that if they turn a blind eye and use some common sense from time to time, their transgression might be spotted by some 'all seeing eye' at Glasgow City Council and losing them a days wages? I know it's a shite job, but surely this sort of thing needs a lighter touch. It's not exactly someone chancing it in the city centre while they nip into the newsie for fags and a paper...........
You'll all be saddened but not surprised to hear that my dad did the 'sensible thing' and coughed up. I feel sure he could have made a massive racket about this and got a few thousand Daily Mail readers to march to his beat, though I'm sure the thought would appall him.
Jesus! A right little bundle of bad karma this week, aren't I?
