7 Reasons

Tag: policeman

  • 7 Reasons It’s Outrageous The BBC Have Cancelled Last Of The Summer Wine

    7 Reasons It’s Outrageous The BBC Have Cancelled Last Of The Summer Wine

    BBC Cancel Last Of The Summer Wine

    1.  It Has Sunday Written All Over It. Last Of The Summer Wine is Sunday. On it comes at around 6pm and immediately the nation realises it will soon be Monday. That is Last Of The Summer Wine’s job. Getting people depressed so they start the week off in the right way. Now what are we going to do? We can’t be happy on Monday morning. That would be wrong.

    2.  The Joke. It’s the same one. It always has been. I haven’t watched every episode of every series. In fact I don’t think I’ve watched even thirty seconds of every series, but that doesn’t matter. Because I know what the joke is. Three blokes flying down a hill in a bath tub. Or on a sofa. Cue two policeman looking alarmed as it buzzes by them. (One of them drops a sandwich too). They don’t write jokes like that anymore. Where am I going to go for my sofa fix?

    3.  Sex In The Countryside. There is something beautifully innocent about old women sitting in a lounge, eating sticky buns, talking about their husband’s inability to remember to take off their muddy shoes when they come home of an evening. That’s what women should be talking about. We won’t have that again. Instead we’ll have repeats of four forty-somethings, sitting in a New York restaurant, discussing the size of Samantha’s latest pepper grinder conquest. Disgusting. You hear me? Disgusting.

    4.  Holmfirth. For the uninitiated, this is where Last Of The Summer Wine is filmed. I have never been. Because I don’t need to. Every year, if I want to, I can see how much the place has changed on the TV. Along with all other eight regular viewers. But what are we going to do next year? When it’s no longer on. I’m going to have to go on a coach trip to Holmfirth with eight randomers. I don’t want to go to Holmfirth with eight randomers. It’s bloody miles away.

    5.  Something Else Not To Watch. I don’t watch Last Of The Summer Wine. No matter what you may think. When the final series finishes though, I won’t be able to not watch it. So that means I’ll have to find something else not to watch to restore the happy balance in my TV viewing. This is pressure. I can’t choose Loose Women because I already choose not to watch it. I’l have to find something I don’t know about on some channel I don’t know about and not watch that instead. What a waste of time.

    6.  Potential. It promised so much didn’t it? And it was so close to achieving it. What with Russ Abbot playing a milkman who thinks he was once in MI5. What a shame to cancel the show just as it was reaching its climax.

    7.  2010: The End. What with Lost ending this year. And 24. And Heroes. And Flashforward. It feels a bit like a salt in the wound to also have Last Of The Summer Wine ending on us. And this comes from someone who didn’t even watch 24. Or Heroes. Or Flashforward. Or Last Of The Summer Wine. Which only goes to show how ridiculous and painful the BBC’s decision is.

  • 7 Reasons to Keep the Traditional Police Helmet

    7 Reasons to Keep the Traditional Police Helmet

    1.  Pregnancy.  In the U.K., a pregnant woman can legally urinate wherever she likes.  She can even, if she requests to, urinate in a policeman’s helmet.  I’m not sure that it’s a practical receptacle for urine – the ventilation holes in the side would prove a particular problem – but it’s surely a desirable thing to pee in.  Who among us wouldn’t want to have a go at that?

    2.  Theft.  Stealing a traditional policeman’s helmet is a part of British popular culture.  P.G.Woodhouse’s most famous creation, Bertie Wooster, was fined £5 for stealing a policeman’s helmet on Boat Race night.  It’s not just a sport for fictional toffs though.  Drunkenly trying to steal a policeman’s helmet is a pastime which is practiced by all classes.  The correct method for removing one is to knock it forward from behind, thus obviating the efficacy of the chin-strap, before running very quickly (we imagine).

    3.  Height.  The traditional police helmet is hard and is approximately 30cm tall.  In theory, it could be used by a policeman to stand on to look over a wall or through a high window.  I don’t know what they’d see, but it could be important.

    4.  Food. The traditional police helmet is sometimes used by policemen to store their fish and chips.  It keeps them warm until they arrive back at the station for their break, and stops them from seeming as lardy and food-obsessed as their American counterparts.  The vinegary scent which emanates from within the helmet often confuses passers-by.

    5.  Visibility.  It is important that the police are a visible presence on the streets to enforce law and order.  This is why they wear those retina-burningly bright high-visibility jackets.  You can’t see those on a crowded street though as they, and their wearers, are obscured by the throng.  You can, however, see the traditional police helmet as it protrudes from the body of a crowd.  You can see it as a reassuring beacon radiating order, or you can imagine it as a shark’s fin portending danger – humming the Jaws theme is optional.  The one thing you can’t do is miss it.

    6.  Protection. Unlike the more modern police cap, the traditional police helmet is hard and will actually protect a policeman from a blow to the head which, as they deal with the sort of people that might possibly hit them over the head – criminals and the like – would seem to be a desirable feature.  It also protects bald policemen from the effects of the sun, and from the taunts of teenage boys, for whom baldness is more amusing than almost anything.

    7.  Tradition.  Not all traditions are good.  Throwing goats from church towers or having to pull crackers while your Christmas dinner goes cold are particularly pointless and cruel traditions.  The traditional policeman’s helmet, however, is an example of a good tradition.  The traditional police helmet is redolent of Dixon of Dock Green, of Bobbies on the beat, of the nice copper who gave you boiled sweets and reunited you with your parents when you were six years old and lost in Coventry city centre.  It brings to mind the avuncular face of policing.  Traditionally, the sort of chap that you would ask for directions or the time wore a police helmet.  Would you ask a copper in a modern police cap the way to the train station?  You’d probably think twice.  He might pepper-spray you and give you an ASBO or a fixed-penalty-notice for wasting police time or loitering.  A modern police cap signifies that its wearer is a policeman or woman; a traditional police helmet bestows upon its wearer the dignity and gravitas of a fine and noble institution.

  • 7 Reasons to Hate the Thaw

    7 Reasons to Hate the Thaw

    1. Brown.  The thaw is brown.  Everything is muddy, slushy and brown.  The grit that was scattered onto the snowy roads and pavements and is now visible, is brown.  The river is brown.  The bare trees are brown, the uncovered grass is brown, Gordon is Brown.  Nothing good is brown (except beverages and beverage based desserts, obviously).

    2.  Slush.  When the snow is on the ground it’s a pure, blank canvas which will be affected in an obvious way by whatever is on top of it.  When it melts, however, it’s just a brown, wet slushy mass.  We all know what’s in yellow snow, but we’re not sure what’s in all those brown slushy puddles.  What is it?  It could be anything.  It’s slush, but it’s not blue and doesn’t taste of cherry, which is a big disappointment.


    3.  Snowmen.  The streets are full of dying snowmen.  Is there anything sadder than that?  They are like urban, wintery versions of Ozymandias, whose power and grandeur and gilded age has passed into ruination and decay.  Soon they will be a distant memory as they assume the form of an old, discarded hat and some twigs scattered on the ground.  My neighbour’s snow-penis is also looking distinctly unimpressive at the moment.  Perhaps I should forward to him some of the many emails I receive offering me Viagra.

    4.  Nice.  The snow is a special time.  With the passing of the snow the nicety will go.  When you encounter a neighbour walking down your snow-covered street in a blizzard you generally smile at each other, glance skyward and tut.  When you encounter police with their riot shields out in the snow they’re using them for sledging.

     

    With the thaw, when you bump into your neighbours, they will scowl at you as usual, or worse, they will converse with you.  When you encounter police with their riot shields out they will beat you to death as usual, or worse, they will usher you into the Ricoh Arena.

    5.  Balls.  When the snow goes, the local ne’er-do-wells will be unable to pelt cars, buses and cyclists with snowballs containing rocks.  They will, instead, pelt cars, buses and cyclists with rocks.  Not only will this cause more damage, but it will rob passers-by of the strange spectacle of a bunch of youths with their tracksuit-bottoms tucked into their white socks, apparently floating eight inches above the ground while assaulting the traffic.

    6.  Sledging.  When the snow is gone sledging is difficult, if not impossible.

    7.  Disruption.  Disruption to services is forgivable in the snow as, well, it’s the snow!  Everything is good in the snow.  Now that the snow is thawing, however, disruption to services is annoying and unforgiveable.  Especially these bins that have been blocking this path for a week.  Expect to see this picture again in 7 Reasons my Neighbours Should be put to Death.  Idiots.