Don’t text while driv­ing a char­iot

Kentish Express Ashford & District - - Points Of View -

As she sped away into the crowd on her elec­tric mo­bil­ity ma­chine, I was just able to glance over her shoul­der and see that she was tex­ting some­one on her tele­phone. Now, if peo­ple want to com­mu­ni­cate in that way, who am I to gain­say them, but such ac­tiv­i­ties are best un­der­taken while sit­ting or stand­ing still. The fact that she had hur­tled up be­hind me and, with a hefty nudge, nearly knocked me off my feet, and then car­ried on re­gard­less and prob­a­bly obliv­i­ous did, I con­fess, cause me to mut­ter nasty things un­der my breath. Surely there should be a law dis­suad­ing peo­ple from belt­ing along on mo­bil­ity ma­chines while dis­tracted by an elec­tronic ex­change of trivia. Mo­torists are treated quite firmly if caught do­ing the same thing so, surely, sim­i­lar stric­tures should be placed on elec­tric char­i­o­teers. Pedes­tri­ans in Ash­ford are un­der per­ma­nent threat from walk­ing text zom­bies, ma­ni­a­cally slalom­ing cy­clists and midget scooter­ists. Surely that’s enough to keep us on our toes with­out adding this fur­ther lethal layer? And then there’s the prob­lem with the shared space. I have al­ways spo­ken out in sup­port of the scheme but now, the 20mph speed limit seems to have gone out of the win­dow and too many mo­torists, safe in their metal co­coons, are adopt­ing an ag­gres­sive at­ti­tude to­ward any­one not sim­i­larly ar­moured. Mrs B has to cross it six times a week and each time, she tells me, she feels that she is tak­ing her life into her own hands.

I have, once or twice, spo­ken ill of our coun­cil’s do­ings. How­ever, in­di­vid­ual coun­cil­lors do at times come up trumps. The re­cent Fes­ti­val in the Park re­ceives no fi­nan­cial help from the coun­cil, as far as I am aware. It was heart­warm­ing, there­fore, to learn that a num­ber of coun­cil­lors had stumped up cash from their dis­cre­tionary funds to help make the af­fair the suc­cess it un­doubt­edly was.

I have many times men­tioned that the so-called farm­ers’ mar­ket has very few stalls that can in any way be de­scribed as be­ing pre­sented by farm­ers. A few months ago, Mrs B bought a seedling sun­flower there which she planted to see if it was a goer. It now stands a lit­tle over seven and a half feet tall and is still grow­ing.

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