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Why the need for speed?
THERE has been talk of raising the top speed limit to 80mph. Why bother?
For a start they will have to change every road sign in the country and who will be expected to pay?
Our ability to pay for petrol is diminishing so why do they want to rub our noses in it? If there has to be a change at all why just not have a ‘no speed limit’ at all on roads and if not, why allow cars to be built that will do 180 MPH?
I’m not being a killjoy I’m just asking the question.
And again I hear a grumbling voice from my very good friend ‘Carrier Bag’. Ramping up the speed limit on roads will use more fuel and shorten the life of oil reserves but we are made to feel pain like shards in the heart from the guilt of asking for an extra carrier bag.
I’ll fight for double bagging because I want to take my shopping home on the bus in the safe knowledge my bottles of Chateau Sainsbury remain intact.
I believe the world should be a much slower place and would suggest we all drive backwards. At least you couldn’t run in to the back of someone. Another argument is to have fewer cars on the roads.
It would be so easy. Simply change us over to drive on the right at the weekend and we’d half the number of cars in a jot and probably the number of drivers.
What about the massive wagons? Are they to be able to go faster or are they to be our secret police force slowing us down by pottering in the centre lane at a mere 70 MPH making the whole thing a pointless exercise?
Then we have the police themselves. They will suffer emotionally. One retired bobby told me he loved the adrenalin of a high-speed chase. He said he would regret not being able to take part in a ‘higher’ speed chase. In my days our coppers had bikes and they still caught us.
What is our obsession with speed? Why do we want the world to go so fast?
What is the use of non-stop trains that can get us from London to Glasgow 20 minutes quicker?
It’s no good to you if you happen to live in Cheshire. It’s a devil of a job trying to catch a train going at 180 miles an hour.
By the time you have flung your suitcase through the window, it’s too late to dive on. It is possible we’ve often jumped to the wrong conclusion when a body is found on a train track? Maybe they were not trying to top themselves by jumping off a bridge but simply trying to get on a high- speed train that doesn’t stop at their local station. Travelling at that speed is no good for me. I have dizzy spells if I go too fast and severe headache if I stop too suddenly.
Forget spending vast fortunes to save a few minutes. Make the trains run on time and offer better sandwiches at affordable prices. Make sure there are enough seats and we are not penned in, in conditions worse than livestock enjoy. Here’s something I Googled.
EU Council Regulation (EC) No. 1/2005 on the protection of animals during transport and related operations sets out the requirements for the humane transport of livestock, for example to slaughterhouses, for export abroad or when travelling to livestock markets. In addition in the UK farmed animals are protected by the Welfare of Animals (Transport) Orders (2006/07) for England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Animals must be fit for the proposed journey and must be transported in such a way that avoids any suffering or infliction of injury. If the journey distance exceeds 65km, drivers are required to hold a certificate of competence.
Have you ever travelled on a Virgin train from Crewe to Edinburgh and tried to sit down? It’s fight to the death I can tell you. Or maybe you have been on the London underground for half an hour with somebody’s umbrella stuck up your nose. Despite the claim, the train does not take the strain.
Food is now fast. When I was a kid, food was just food. Now we have fast food and the other kind.
Is there a name for slow food or is it just food?
Fish and chips was probably the fast food of my day but we didn’t call it fast food, did we.
And I suppose, yes we did eat it while staggering home from the pub on a Friday night but for good reason. My mother always told me I should eat fish on Fridays and the peas were the vegetable ration for the day. And we ate peas with our fingers, none of the nancy boy plastic forks we have today.
Mobile phones are to speed up communication but what is the point of ringing somebody to ask where your cheque is only to be told it is in the post, which now comes whenever it feels like it.
The price of stamps goes up quicker than letters arrive nowadays.
We even have speed dating. Can somebody please explain how that works? I’ve heard you have about three to eight minutes with each person to find out about each other.
I’ve had seven years with Ms Nomates and I still haven’t got a clue what makes her tick. If I knew how she ticked and how she tocked I’m sure we could have a great time together.
Then we have the get rich quick monsters. They appear on every TV show going in the hope they will be chosen to be the next celebrity and the trouble is some of them do find fame and fortune for being nothing more than ridiculous.
Let me just say one thing, if being ridiculous is all it takes I should be up there in the hall of fame.
The lottery promises all but I never get a single number right.
And finally, a poem given to me by a five year old.
Credit cards, they work so hard, to get us in to debt
We should pay another day but often we forget
We want stuff now, we don’t care how
It has to be the best
When we default, it’s all our fault
We lose our shirt and vest
And who says thanks? Of course the banks
Make us pay on another day
But often they forget
They facilitate, if we pay late
That’s what they like best
We default; it’s not their fault
The house goes with the rest
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