Very few things that we used to take for granted are easy today.
The great God ‘choice’ throws up a whole host of wrong paths to go down and traps for the unwary.
A whole page advert in a popular daily paper induced me to buy five bags of miracle grass seed that would produce ‘visible results in 6-7 days’.
Well 21 days after seeding, the only visible result is the seeds lying there on the bare surface leering at me indolently. Telephoning the marketing company elicits a sympathetic ‘Oh dear – I’ll get them to call you back about that.’ Three times now and the only vegetation on show is tumbleweed.
Then there’s the new, all singing, all everything TV system that will revolutionise my life. Being a sucker for new technology, sigh, four weeks in and we still have less TVs working at Baker Towers than we had with the old system.
Three different technicians have tried and fled promising imminent remedies. More tumbleweed.
Replacements for our south facing wooden cottage windows? Less than a year it took for them to peel and crack. Apparently the subcontractors weren’t up to snuff a year ago.
I am slowly beginning to realise that individual local craftsmen is the only way to go – the local builder who recently turned our decrepit conservatory into a sunny palace ticked every box and ‘snagged’ quickly and completely. The bigger the company, the less chance you have to nail them down and get value or be able to contact someone who can really sort your problem out, as you gradually move up the levels of (in)competence.
The timing of the Eurovision Song Contest – a month ahead of the Great Escape Vote – has served for many to underline how the UK is perceived in Europe.
It cannot be denied any longer that voting is in no way related to the tunefulness or otherwise of the songs, but the cultural and emotional connection between voter and country.
If my choice ever wins it is because it comes from a country that its neighbours love. This year The Netherlands and Poland floated my boat, not the depressing Russia bashing ditty from the Ukraine.
But what do I know? The only UK song I ever really loved, last year’s electro-swing 20’s type number came garnered five votes from Ireland, Malta and San Marino. The abbreviation for the European Song Contest is ESC.