Alright, alright. Form an orederly queue for Chalkey's latest rant.
For once, I thought long and hard as to whether or not to post this. But, hey.
I was sitting in the living room today, in front of the tv, watching my horses lose, (as usual,) and the missiz suddenly said, "Oh my God! Someone's just thrown a beer can in to our front garden!" I leapt out of my chair, (well, sort of,) and with the alacrity of a crippled snail. I was out the front door. There were four lads, (late teens perhaps,) swaggering up the road. This is where I should have muttered to myself, 'Oh well, what should I expect in this day and age.' But no, gobby here called after them. One of them turned and strode in my direction, at which point I thought, 'Oh-oh, this is gonna get nasty'
Well, you can take the bloke out of the Old Kent Road, etc.... I stood my ground. I may not be as young as I used to be, but I am six foot tall and weigh fifteen and a half stone.(Not how some of you visualised me, I'm sure.) To put it in the vernacular, the yobbo bottled it and his stride shortened. I then, less than poiltely, informed him that my front garden was not a dustbin for him, or anyone else and held out the beer can, which was half full. He snatched it and turned on his heel, spouting a torrent of foul language as he did so. Again, perhaps I should have left it at that, but,('Old Kent Road, etc.') I said, "Go away and sober up you silly little sod!"
Without the guts to turn and face me, he just uttered another mouthfull of four-letter words and hurled the beer can into the road, where it only just stopped short of hitting a very expensive parked car. (Not mine I hasten to add.)
Enough! I went indoors and phoned the police.
Please read the following words vey slowly....
A few years back, my son, who lives in a far more salubrious area than me, had a spate of problems with youths from a nearby estate. Basically, they were roaming the area and throwing stones at the windows of 'nice' houses. After several calls to the police from my son and his equally suffering neighbours, which brought no action whatsoever, they rightly or wrongly decided to take the law in to their own hands. The next time the yobbo's came along, half a dozen residents were waiting for them. Two of the youths were apprehended and the police were called. They were there within minutes, the residents having done the work for them. To everyone's astonishment, the police's first question was to the apprehended. "Has anyone laid a hand on you?" At which point my son pointed out that he and his neighbours were the victims in this. The copper said, "Sorry mate, but this is how we have to deal with these situations."
What sort of message did that send out?
Some years ago I lived in Hereford and became friendly with the local garage owner where I had my car serviced. I turned up one day and he was in a foul mood. He told me that the previous evenng he'd been broken in to for the fourth time in as many weeks. His six-foot high wooden gates had been scaled and the cars on his lot had been vandalised. When the police, (eventually) turned up, he told them he'd had enough of it and was going to put barbed wire along the top of his gates as a deterrent. The policeman told him it would be an unwise move, because if anyone got injured while breaking in to his property, they could sue him. When asked to repeat what he'd said, the copper replied, "I don't like it either, mate. But that's the way it is."
This is not a swipe at the police. They have their directives. I'm sure most of today's coppers wish they could clip a hooligan around the ear and be done with it. Sadly, they can't. I'm too old to take up the sword of justice, but to all you younger ones out there, where is all this going to end? it's your future. Your choice. I'd like to meet the first person who came up with the idea of 'human rights' and the deluded insistance that criminals are simply 'poor inocent victims of circumstance.'
I know I'm going to ruffle a few feathers with the length of this posting, and its content. But, hopefully, I'll get a few allies too.
None of this surprises me, Chalkey. That ill mannered foul mouthed youngsters have not been taught to a)keep their litter to themselves b)to watch their foul mouths c)to show some respect to everyone - not just but including their elders is , as the copper said, "the way it is" these days. It makes me feel even more geriatric than I am (coming up seventy one).
As you are no doubt aware Chalkey, this isn't confined to this country.
My elder son married a German girl and lived there for over twenty years.
One day his wife said to him that their younger son had casually enquired whether it was possible for boys to dye their hair, just like girls sometimes do.
When my son asked his son why he had asked that question, he replied that a gang of older immigrant boys from Somalia or Ethiopa had been threatening some of the children at his school, primarily because the children almost all, like him, had blonde hair and blue eyes, and some of the girls were so scared that they had coloured their hair darker.
To make a long story short, after initially approaching the school, then the police, and getting no reassurances that this would be curtailed, he followed some of the offending youths home and found that their parents had very little German but most spoke English.
He made them a solemn promise, emphasising that it was a promise and not a threat, that if one hair of his son's head was disturbed by their offspring he would return and his wrath would be terrible to behold, it and would be taken out on them, not the offending teenagers.
That stopped it in it's tracks, but he never got over the frustration of having to resort to that, and eventually emigrated to Australia, where because the family are from Germany they don't get called Poms, although my son's workmates rag him if Australia beats England at cricket!
Friends, I read my post through again this morning in the cold light of day and wished I hadn't posted it. I thought I it would anoy too many people. I shouldn't use this site to air my frustrations, even on the 'Chatter' page. But I was soooooo angry. I've worked long and hard to get what I've got. It's not a palace, but it's a long way from the Victorian tenement without electricty and hot water where I began life. I was outraged that some chav could think he could treat my property with such disrespect and get away with it. When I see people driving bigger cars than mine and living in bigger houses I say, "Good luck to them. They must have worked hard or been very good at what they do to aquire those luxuries."
Like 'em or loath 'em, that's always been the American way. If you want something bad enough, then work hard 'til you can afford it. It doesn't matter how low you start out on life's ladder, anyone can reach the top if they're good enough.
My missiz was more angry with me for going after those louts and said it wasn't worth risking my life for. They may have had knives. At the time it seemed very worth it.