Are These the Good Old days?

No reason. Just nice.

By Albion

I am not sure to what generation I belong. I suspect I am from the V or W generation. I am definitely NOT from the X or Y crowd, and seeing I was born a number of years before WW2, I think I am allowed to preface comments with “I remember the good ‘ole days”. That is the cue for groans from the X and Y generation present. In fact I think one needs to be born before 1940 to have the privilege of saying this. 1948? Well we all know what happened then don’t we. Its something we only discuss in hushed tones.

I must say the X and Y generations have finally got blatant discrimination more or less thankfully sorted out. The result is we now have gay Bishops, lots and lots of gay Policemen and gay lady policemen, same sex marriages; gay clergy, lady marriage celebrants and we can now foster out very young female children to homosexual males. The visible death of discrimination is no more apparent than two ladies of the same sex being able to choose who is going to impregnate the other. The decision is made by the lady that draws the short straw, who will be artificially pollinated by proxy, pollen generously donated by a gay man thus to enabling them to have children without the benefit of the church or the direct participation of a said male.

Discrimination was rife when I was a child. We referred to obese children as being fat. We even referred to people who hobbled about on crutches as cripples; hard to believe isn’t it? We never discussed personal things in public like Genital warts and Herpes, or who might or might not be the father of a single girl’s child. She was just sent away somewhere quietly, to the countryside or seaside.

I liked the good ‘old days'. I sometimes wonder where all this present madness will all end. Let me explain. My aunt had a dog named Skipper. He was a Cocker Spaniel. At least once every two months when he started to smell we might give him a bath, well not exactly a bath, we would turn the hose on him. Today one rings for a man from a Doggy Dunk franchise. This person proceeds to immerse the mutt in soap suds and apply generous amounts of hair conditioner for fragile hair. It is followed by a blow dry and finally teasing the curls into tight ringlets.

Now Skipper was a butch street dog, where female dogs were concerned he had no morals whatsoever. I shudder just thinking about it. The thought of Skipper looking like an Etonian fop and smelling like an Amsterdam working girl horrifies me. Within 1 minute of Mr Doggy Dunk leaving he would have been rolling about in the veggie patch before drying off in the dirt.

My mother-in-law horrifies me too. She is 94. In a car cutting a swathe through the traffic and observing black and swarthy people from all parts of Africa, the Middle East the Indian sub continent and all the islands of the Caribbean, she will say “ I remember this road when it was a dirt road, you know” She talks about the first Trans-Atlantic flights and the first flight from London the Australia. She was of the S generation

I wonder, are these the good ‘ole days for the X and Y generation?

I arrived in this world well before the multicultural dream, which turned into a nightmare. I cannot actually point the finger at particular political party, all our governments since the end of WW2 have been hell bent on destroying my country and due to the apathy of my people they are succeeding.

I was going to write about plastic cards and how the banks have made a killing at the expense of the peasantry but I won’t. After waiting for a person at the checkout to pay for an item, and observing their plastic cards set in a in a folder and looking like an accordion I make a point of enquiring of the cashier “Do you still take cash?” He says without blinking ‘Oh yes sir” I then say, ‘No, I just thought I would ask in case one day I come in and you say ‘sorry mate we don’t take cash any more?’

Tags: Albion