Food, not-so glorious Food

Jack Dee once commented, “What kind of a family eats out of a bucket?” And he’s right to ask this question. The kind of company that endorses eating food from receptacles usually reserved for coal or gravel needs to employ more chefs and fewer marketing and cost-cutting types.

The introduction of fast food has been a major contributory factor to the declining standards of etiquette in society and the destruction of the human palette. Not do these fat-covered liberal-interpretations of meat clog up our arteries but they have destroyed the food cycle.

Take the cinema – it is baffling to think the average person (in every possible way) can’t go two hours without shovelling sweaty, crunchy lumps of nothingness down their gobs. Many a time have the deep and meaningful segments of films been ruined by the sound of the salivary crunch of the world’s most inappropriate film-watching morsel.

The way to cure the scourge of food served in cement mixers and high-decibel snacklets is to eat meals. Proper meals. Watch Saturday Kitchen and Gary Rhodes, put a cooked slab of meat next to a couple of piles of roughage and you’re set. Your body will be thankful, your senses more satisfied and I won’t be tempted to remove your head and bury it in the residuey filthiness of an empty fried-chicken scuttle. (JT)

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Hoopla over Hula Hoops

One (oh yes, there are many) of my absolute bugbears in life is that I can't stand rudeness. I don't mean Benny Hill or Carry On style rudeness (oh-err mrs). I find myself being thoroughly rude to people who are just generally rude, abrasive, condescending (or is that a different issue?). It really does put me in a bad mood. I can't think of any time when being rude has ever been a bonus? It's just bloody rude to be rude.

The reason why I chose this to be my first of many daily rant, is that it's absolutely fundamental to me as a person and therefore this blog.

And the reason I mention this is because this morning on the tube, in a relatively empty carriage, a young girl was eating a packet of Hula Hoops. Not the healthiest of breakfasts for our future generation I agree, but still, she wasn't sniffing glue or drinking cheap cider, she wasn't shouting, being abusive or rude and wasn't doing anything else of note, except listening to her Ipod and eating a packet of crisps.
 
Harmless enough, until a middle aged chap got on the carriage (bit square looking, probably reads the Guardian) and starting giving the girl the evils. Tutting outrageously loudly at her eating habits (which weren't particularly loud I hasten to add). Glaring over at her repeatedly for daring to eat crisps at such an unreasonable hour. She then started glaring back at him, shifting her body language to that of a lioness protecting her cubs (or her crisps, presumably).

I don't understand. What has happened to Britain of late? Why are we so hell bent on doing anything and everything that can be pre-fixed with rage; road, air, train, tube, crisp - to name but a few.

Why? Can't we all just back-off?  Why not be a little nicer to one another? Say “please”, “thank you”, “no, after you”, “let me get that door for you”?, “here, take my seat”, (have I gone too far?). And if you can't manage that - just live and let live.

In this time of a recession, what does it actually cost to be polite?

All hail the goddess of politeness and those who sail in her.

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