Cold snaps require some real true grit
GREETINGS fellow revellers. What’s going down in the hood? (I have no idea what that means).
My granddaughter says I should keep up with modern idioms.
So, I was out and about this week and saw this notice in an employment agency’s window.
“Looking for a job innit?” I just couldn’t help myself going in and asking what sort of agency it was using street slang to attract job applicants.
The girls on the desks behind started to laugh.
Turns out I was reading it wrong.
What it actually said was, “Looking for a job in i.t.?” (Information Technology).
I know you would have understood.” Anyway, I digress.
Road grit that’s my topic of the day.
Real old fashioned rough, tough road grit.
The sort of grit you can hear bouncing off the underside of your car as it fights with ice and snow to keep us on the road.
I’m talking about Arne Schwarzenegger grit capable of crushing the roughest toughest ice.
Grit that gets flung into the gutter as it yells, “I’ll be back.”
And always returns, fresher, stronger and ready for the fight.
Even the Cresta Run couldn’t defeat Arne-style Road grit.
The Titanic would be still ferrying customers across the Atlantic today had it carried enough Arne Grit.
So, I was kind of looking forward to re-establishing my relationship with Arne when I awoke today to find the road outside icedup with a prediction of more snow to come.
Sadly, Arne didn’t turn up.
In his place they sent Frank Spencer grit whimpering and whining as I slid along praying to God I wouldn’t end up in a ditch.
Look, I know Cheshire East is skint but Arne has always looked after us in the dark, freezing days of winter flinging his grit to the four corners of Cheshire East making mincemeat out of ice and snow.
He kept us going when the Beast from the East threatened to freeze us into submission.
A couple of bags off Arne’s grit and you could get wherever you had to be.
Frost, blizzards, ice storms, snow, Arne swept away all before him and never let us down. So…where’s he gone? You could always see Arne’s grit and hear it pinging from under your car or truck in winter. It was comforting to know he was there on your side.
No matter how tough the going Arnie’s grit would see you through.
So far this winter I haven’t seen Arne at all, what I have seen is a sad impression hiding in the gutter, occasionally dashing across the road so as not to get crushed.
This isn’t Arne grit this is Frank Spencer meets Peppa Pig grit.
Either that or they are using a tea spoon to distribute it.
In any event this is no way to treat a brave ally like Arne.
Now, give us the real grit. Or ‘I’ll be back.”
‘No matter how tough the going Arnie’s grit would see you through’