A grumpy Brit? You bet I am, and very proud of it
There’s a fly in your soup, the train is stuck between Falkirk high and Polmont for an hour for no apparent reason, the child behind you is kicking your chair, and your pal has dragged you along to watch a DJ set that turns out to be as visually thrilling as watching someone repair a washing machine.
A survey claims that we have become a nation of whingers. In fact, we are among the grumpiest people in europe – and I definitely want to complain about that.
Only europe? Come on, we can do better than that. especially when many of us are in daily receipt of emails that greet us with ‘I hope you are really well’, as if ordinary wellness is the equivalent of acne before a blind date.
however, our list of national grumbles needs a bit of work, covering over-familiar targets such as mobile phone users, people in shorts, getting up in the morning and being unable to open packets of food.
Other countries are a bit more high-minded about what frustrates them. For instance, Belgians want more cycle paths, while Australians are concerned about the environment.
I’m also struck by how short the list is. What about food manufacturers trying to claim that carob is every bit as good as chocolate?
Or BBC4’s heavy reliance on old editions of Top of The Pops, based on some thin pretext that old chart shows are culturally important, rather than weekly proof that dinosaurs and humans once co-existed.
Or home printers, whose ink costs far more, drop for drop, than vintage champagne. rather than leaf through a saturday newspaper supplement for the megarich called how To spend It, snarling at gold-plated bath taps and diamond-studded phone covers, I’m more likely to be awed if anyone invites me over to watch them rattle through a ream of A4 to print out their home insurance policy in high-resolution, using the colour setting.
however, we really need some focus for national grouching. For example, in the direction of celebrity nepotism, which allows rising photographer Brooklyn Beckham to take pictures of what looks like two seals stapled together in the moonlight, but is in fact an elephant. Apparently pachyderms are ‘hard to photograph’. Yes, indeed, Brooklyn. Who knew they were so tiny and fast-moving?
LeT’s complain about the fact that pashminas are still on the go, despite the fact they are just expensive blankets that flatter very few. Put it another way, whenever there’s an artist’s impression of Bonnie Prince Charlie disguised by Flora McDonald as Betty Burke, an ungainly Irish spinning maid, it looks very much as if Bonnie Prince Betty is wearing a pashmina.
Being in a state of whinge represents progress – half a century ago this country would rather give away a kidney than grumble about work conditions or unsatisfactory relationships.
At least moaning opens a conversation about change. so here’s to the wailers, the whiners, and gripers. stay really well.