Poppies

On the face of it, I'm pleased that FIFA has allowed England (and Wales) footballers to wear Poppies on armbands during their games this weekend.

However, there is a nagging doubt inside my mind that this is the right course of action.

There are a set of rules in place designed to ensure complete "neutrality" in the game itself and banning all religious or political symbols. Now I don't believe that the Poppy is a religious symbol, nor a political one. But not everyone might see it that way and I suspect that one day other countries might well want to place symbols which we might not agree with on shirts. Better to ban everything; and stick to it. Keep it simple.

What has happened with leaders writing letters and the press becoming angry, smacks of that haughty attitude which we British are sometimes said to have when dealing with others. I don't think we do usually; but I can see traces of it in this.

The solution of placing them on armbands seems to me a very good (clever, even) compromise. Everyone sticks to the rules, everyone is satisfied.

Remember the phrase "Wear You Poppy With Pride"? I always found that very moving and I genuinely do wear mine with pride, with a sense of remembrance. Nowadays, though, it sometimes seems to me that people wear them because they think they should, rather than because they actually want to. As soon as someone doesn't, everyone descends on them like vultures and people become indignant. (That said, I did refuse a request from the tour manager of an overseas group to remove mine before a tour many years ago to avoid upsetting the clients. I refused but I'm self employed and they hire me, with all my views and foibles and that's the end of the matter.)

So if you haven't already bought one, go and make a donation for your Poppy. It is a visible and potent symbol of loss and remembrance and the funds raised go to a cause that is right and moral, good and commendable.

But when you can't wear it.......you can't. And when that happens, nd your Poppy is still in your coat pocket and your donation is still in RBL's collecting box. Job done.

Fact Emulating Fiction

Last night we watched the hugely enjoyable film "Love Actually".

Today, I went to get some Christmas presents and emerged heavily laden from the shops to find people carrying Christmas trees and snow coming down in rather large flakes.

For a moment, I thought I was back in the film!

As Others See Us

There is an interesting phrase employed by Robbie Burns in his “Ode to a Louse”: “to see ourselves as others see us”.

Inspired by this, I always keep a look out for coverage of UK affairs in overseas media outlets. One of my favourites is Australia’s ABC, basically the only real rival in terms of quality for the BBC, I’d say.

But their coverage of UK affairs is incredibly, overwhelmingly, scarily, bizarrely dominated by what’s going on in the world of sport. And not just the stuff you’d expect, like cricket and Rugby, but even football, a game Australians don’t really even play that much. You'd think that nothing happened here other than sport.

Don’t take my word for it. Have a look!

A Word in Defence of London Underground

Many people will have seen, or rather heard, the recordings released for the first time at the inquest into the 7 July Terrorist Murders in London.

If you haven’t some examples are at:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-11518501

and

http://www.itv.com/news/77-bombings-inquest07608/

As so often happens with the media, journalists in search of a sound-bit type quote get emotionally charged friends and family to become angry and to use words like “shambolic” which are succinct but frankly inaccurate.

I think the staff of London Underground are getting very unfair treatment here. The "confusion" was very soon after the explosions (of which there were three at disparate locations within 90 seconds) and I think that no organisation could realistically have reacted differently. It may be that people would prefer staff to react in an excited frantic and dramatic way, they way we see on television or in the cinema. In fact, people remaining calm might not make a “good story” but it is the best way of dealing with a situation.

Indeed, some of the stories which have emerged about help, compassion and heroism from some of the station staff deserve a higher profile than this.

There were a lot of heroes that day. And I defy anyone to have reacted better, other than with that wonderful thing, “the benefit of hindsight”.

Verbose Media

The many friends I have in Melbourne keep me informed that Australia's "Garden State" is a bit parched at the moment, with temperatures "soaring" up into the 40sC.

Interesting that in media speak temperatures never seem to merely "rise" and "fall"; they "soar" and "plunge" or even "plummet". We seldom get "high" winds; rather they are "gale force" and rain is never "heavy" but the more diluvian "torrential".

So I'll give this media language a go describing my day. Hope it impresses you all and leads to me being offered a sub-editor's job somewhere.

I flew from my bed at the very crack of dawn this morning, rapidly making a bee-line for the bathroom. After some vigorous teeth-brushing I wolfed down a high-fibre dose of sustenance (well, okay, muesli) before navigating the slush-filled Edwardian thoroughfares of Metroland and then plunging to a subterranean voyage on the Northern Line.

A fact-packed morning of studious endeavour followed, my fingers flying across the pages of a notebook like a swallow soaring through some alpine valley.

A traditional East End hostelry served to me some of its best foaming ale before I privileged to see the London of the twenty first century truly rolling Eastwards towards the site of the XXX Olympiad, beyond Bazalgette's effluvial temple.

A secondary subterranean projection brought me back to the bosom of my hostess (eh?), where a sumptuous supper ushered in the opportunity of a somnorial interlude.

Think I'll stick with the tour guiding. Goodnight!