Chuck the Charm it’s Time to Get Tough

This is a guest piece from @Battsby who was one of the inspirations behind this blog. Read more of his work at "When I'm King"

So there you are, driving along in your automobile, Chuck Berry appositely providing a soundtrack to your perfect afternoon. An empty road stretches out ahead, straight as a die and not a car in sight. Almost a mile in the distance you see a slouching figure approaching a pedestrian crossing. Obviously he’s going to look right, look left, look right again and cross in the knowledge that he has the best part of a minute to negotiate his passage. But no, of course he doesn’t do that, because the correct etiquette today is to press the button first, then proceed as outlined above and be well on his meandering way to buy crack or smack or cigarettes as you slide to a halt at an empty crossing.

My contempt for these people knows no bounds because not only is it extremely discourteous, it is a microcosmic example of the lengths people will go to in order to avoid thinking for themselves, or about others. It may be sheer ignorance, it may be a sense of entitlement, but whatever it is it needs nipping in the bud right now. The phenomenon of road related rage is well known, but today its petrol-fuelled headlessness spreads out across the land like a tin of toxic, tactless treacle, oozing its way everywhere, never to be fully rid from the fibres of our society. Getting your kicks on Route Sixty-six is more than likely to end up with getting your head kicked in, out in the sticks these days.

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We used to know how to behave in a crowd, a queue, an audience, but I see little evidence today of classic British good manners. Children loudly demand instant gratification and their teenage parents give in immediately, as they’ve been trained to do, the chocolate-covered little ingrates pressing sticky fingers everywhere as unembarrassed mothers hand over empty wrappers to be scanned at the checkout. They waddle around, these products of Cool Britannia, with no particular place to go and bellies bigger than Buster Bloodvessel, constantly grazing on garbage and leaving a trail of packaging behind them. Woe betide if you have a low-walled frontage because to them it is just a convenient skip.

Intervene in any way to correct, protect or prevent a breach of the peace and you will become a target. Once upon a long ago there was an expression “don’t cheek your elders”. One two three four - Happy days, five six seven eight - they’ll be swinging off your garden gate and calling you a pedophile. Then the law will be called in to ‘protect’ you from the vigilantes and pretty soon you’ll be hounded out of town. Because the law is on their side; they’ve got rights, haven’t you heard? All for politely requesting they use the bin provided not three feet away from where they are busily fouling their own patch.

It would be depressing enough if such behaviour was recognised as being wrong and as such was fought against on a variety of fronts but, sadly, at least part of the problem stems from sheer ignorance of once died-in-the-wool protocols coupled with an utter disregard for the rights of others.

Justice, Mr B style!

So, Come On! That’s Too Much Monkey Business but You Can’t Catch Me, they say. So maybe it’s time to begin the fight back? Maybe it’s time we returned to a system where the Bobby on the beat could administer a good old thrashing on the spot? If Johnny won’t B Goode he can suck my police state Ding-a-Ling till the Wee Wee Hours… and that’s about as many Chuck Berry songs as I dare cram into the final paragraph! Be courteous out there.