I must admit I do take a faintly perverse pride in the old-fashioned archetypal British character. It's not something that anyone should be proud of but the reserved, foppish, whoopsadaisy, 'don't make a scene' approach to life that is fully embodied in every Hugh Grant screen character (and half the Shadow Cabinet) is so discerningly engaging that I can't help but doff my cap to it from time to time.
However, this attitude carries an awful curse and masks deep, deep concerns at the core of our nation's collective psyche. We Brits don't seem to have as much fun as our Continental neighbours. There's no joie de vivre, no carpe diem and no Viva Britannia. Breaking free from the stranglehold of regulation, of everything in moderation, of the slow Union Jack strangulation is perhaps long, long overdue. Perhaps I say, naturally.
Such regular caveating is part of this very problem is it not? In this war against our own national cognisance of what Britishness actually is, pavement licenses can be the first thing against the wall. Well, not structurally of course. Pavements being against the wall will generally always be the case. I mean in terms of it being the first to go as we embrace a new wilder, carefree country.
Maybe explaining things in too much detail can be next on the list.
Anyway, there I was a few weeks ago on a balmy Thursday evening under Edinburgh's star-lit sky enjoying a late night beer with some co-workers during the height of the Fringe when we were abruptly told to move inside. The Peroni had apparently dulled my British instincts and I was only too happy to make a scene at such a disgraceful request.
Well, I say "scene" but I merely politely asked why in a hushed tone. A calm, civilised but rather dull conversation ensued during which the bar staff generously explained pavement licenses to me. I didn't even manage an Italian gesticulation plumping shamefully for an 'ooh, really' here and there before reverting to type and obediently doing as I was told, a misplaced apology unthinkingly tumbling free as I stepped indoors.
I wouldn't say the evening was ruined but now squashed indoors, club music inxplicably bouncing off the walls (on a Tuesday?) and that slight hint of late-night al-fresco magic well and truly extinguished, the edge had been taken off what, just 5 minutes earlier, was shaping up to be a very good night indeed.
And for what? For an obscure pavement license, the need for which I couldn't fathom a few Peronis down and still eludes me in my more sober current state.
Sadly the needless rule of the pavement license is not an isolated case: A £120 license to ride a 50cc scooter required every 2 years? Not being able to buy booze before 10am? Not being allowed to hang up paintings in a school? You can't eat food cooked at a food fair? Parking restrictions on every last segment of street within a 3 mile radius of the city centre? No food or drink on buses? No beers on the tube? No international football on terrestrial TV? And now, incredibly, no more General Election night!?
I'm sorry, that's the last straw.
Boring, boring Britain is in a deep malaise. We thought something as fun and ridiculous as voting in Boris Johnson as London mayor would alleviate the ennui and spark a new culture but alas it hasn't proved to be.
So let us rise up against this madness where political anoraks can't get their quadrennial jollies by sitting up till 4 in the morning watching Dimbleby cos they need to find out the swing in Liverpool West. We nerds need our fun wherever we can snatch it and if enough of us want to have election parties culminating in a full set of results on that same night that the voting took place, then we should damn well have them.
And we want them on the pavement too, if nobody minds that is. I wouldn't want to put anyone out...
Exquisite Timing!
15 minutes ago
18 comments:
I am kind of torn on this one.
You say you have only recently joined the SNP.
Well, wait till you have worked through an election campaign, got up early on the morning of pollimg day, knocked up till the last voter straggled down to vote at 9.45 and then you head off to the count to do the ballot box sampling and eventually get your result about 20 hours after you got up.
It's not actually that much fun. A good night's sleep between polling day and the count does make some kind of sense, both for activists and electoral staff.
On the other hand it means you have to wait longer to find out how you have done.
It's a toughie.
There is no such thing as a 'British' character. That is something which has been invented by politicians.
Each nation within the UK has their own character and once Scotland is independent then we will get the opportunity to show our own traits to the world.
It sounds like you need a bit of 'v' for vendetta
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7DRAD-j8ObI&feature=related
You must be getting old Indy. I am fully in agreement here, waiting up for the election results is brilliant, I've been doing it since I could vote and it is an essential part of the process for me.
Think of the voters:-)
Also fully in agreement about pavement licenses too, provided it's not a residential area why chuck us all back in at ten o'clock? Utter madness.
We've got far too many rules and regulations they could be decimated easily, and then decimated again.
Here here!
When the last unionist is beaten to death with the last copy of the Scotsman then we can all leap into the air and shout, SAOR ALBA GU BRATH,doubles all round on the pavement!
Subrosa, there is no such thing as a 'Scottish' character. That is something which has been invented by politicians.
Each town and city within Scotland has their own character and once each and every one is independent then we will get the opportunity to show our traits to the world.
Anon #1
You might not of noticed but our cities aren't countries. Scotland is a country.
Consequently, your argument looks pretty stupid.
Anyway, I've no problem with any identity; Scottish, British, Irish, Kenyan, New Zealander etc. Britishness will still exist after Scottish independence and I'm more than happy about that.
We are all global citizens first and foremost, and thats the most important thing.
The foppish, public school educated Hugh Grant type isn't much in evidence in the pubs of darkest East Ayrshire. Nor indeed in most parts of Scotland.
It is, of course, a stereotype but, as stereotypes tend to, it resonates strongly in certain parts.
The bowler-hatted city gent was the British archetype for many a year but was utterly alien to all but a small corner of the UK.
That is indicative of the mindset of the UK establishment. We live in one of the most economically, politically, socially and culturally centralised states in the western democratic world.
Those furth of that charmed circle are always aware that most important things happen elsewhere (compassionate release of stitched up 'terrorists' excepted).
The best we can do is be a 2nd class version of a national archetype. Our 'natural' disadvantages are manifest.
I would hope for an independent Scotland that, created in the penetrating light of the 21st century, would be far more 'spread out' and less thirled to the dictates of an all pervasive establishment.
Hope this makes sense - I've had a few to numb the post-match ache.
You're right.
It's a dreary place filled with a mixture of anally retentive people who are scared to complain about anything, including all the restrictions the authorities put on us, and just out of the tree nutters who have taken the idea of personal freedoms to the point where no holds are barred.
I have a friend who married a Frenchman and went to live in France. She says it took her the first two years to learn that it was NOT wrong to cry when things hurt, and whoop with joy when they go right.
I say leave our election nights alone. It's good after all that hard work to settle down with a few beers and a few mates and see how well you've done. Or as I have often done, go to bed and leave Jim Nauchty on the radio, waking you up every quarter of an hour till you drift off for good an hour before you have to be in the boss's office!
Anonymous, Is Scotland not just a region in England.
Indy, fair point as ever. I do reckon the longer period of time that elapses between voting and counting then the bigger a window there is for fraud. And although I won't know till I've done it, I reckon after a full day of campaigning I'd want to know the result as soon as possible.
Subrosa, I think identity is for individuals to decide. I feel a British 'something'. Whether it is a figment of my imagination, placed there by a politician or something really quite genuine, I rather enjoy it. I draw the line at bowler hats though. And I can assure you that my Scottish identity is stronger and in sharper focus.
'less thirled by the dictates of an all pervasive establishment'. Awesome stuff voiceofourown, I'm going to drink more often if that's the result ;) x Thanks for the comment, made perfect sense to me at least.
I would just like to say, and I cannot state this point strong enough, that that rogue 'x' in my last comment was unintended and in no way whatsoever meant as any sort of text-style embrace or kiss.
Ok, are we clear? Good.
*hugs*
Jeff
Thanks Jeff - I've never had a 'rogue X' before.
What is it that Freudians say? There's no such thing as an accident?
I'm off now to chop some wood and build stuff.
There is no such thing as a 'British' character. That is something which has been invented by politicians.
Each nation within the UK has their own character and once Scotland is independent then we will get the opportunity to show our own traits to the world.
Palpable nonsense Subrosa. There are only degrees of character. Do you see a Geordie having the same English national character as an Eton school boy. Myself I'd say they have a character more like a someone from Edinburgh.
Jeff
It is a long time since I had apub but, then the rules were that the pavement was not licenced although customers could stand outside and have a drink.
We put tables, chairs and parasols out, as we owned the pavement in the shopping centre but could not serve alcohol to the tables.
Customers could carry out their drinks only.
It may have changed with alcohol free zones etc.
I think it must have changed recently in that case Bugger Lugs.
Without wanting to sound like an alcoholic, I had two separate experiences in the past couple of weeks.
One, we were told we couldn't sit outside due to the pavement license. They soon packed away the chairs and tables after we went inside but, to be fair, maybe we could have stood outside.
However, I doubt it, as my other experience was being told I couldn't take my drink outside to chat to some smoking friends.
Taking the two together, no outside drinking after 10pm by the looks of it.
If so.... Daft.
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