| I promised a loyal band of reader I would return
when next I was with bee in barnet.Well I've got one now.
Hackney Council's hectoring, wagging-fingered tone on recycling.
Last week I received a faintly menacing letter, reminiscent of the
kind written by the Kray Brothers Protection Racket in its heyday,
warning that if I didn't start recycling my household crap unspecified
steps would be taken. Like what? Would one of the rapidly melting
Antarctic ice flows be named after me? My fingers hacked off and
re-used to make Turkey Twizzlers for the borough's primary schools?
Or will I be banned forever from wearing novelty socks with Bierkenstok
sandals?
Last night, three, yes three, young men with clipboards turned up
on my doorstep to put the thumbscrews on me further. I explained,
not for the first time, that I live on a street with no discernible
pavement where a green box causes passers by to break their legs
and hips on a regular basis, is used as a general dumping crate
by the populace at large and a makeshift toilet for their canine
companions. Plus I am away a lot and choose to make my own recycling
arrangements thank you very much. All this when nearby Church Street
is knee deep in fast food cartons, chip wrappers and empty fag packets!
I was given one sticker, two biros and an I Love Recycling badge
by the gorgeous French one in the trio and off they went to disturb
someone else's' evening. I rang the brand spanking new Hackney Council
Recycle or You're Dead Tofu Unit this morning to be meticulously
quizzed yet again about my 'intentions'. I ended up half heartedly
losing my rag, asked if they'd sent one of their klunky, badly written
missives to George Bush as he had more influence than me re this
issue and weren't we all going to Hades in a Handcart anyway so
what big difference do my wine bottles make?
The money they're spending on this when the borough is one big
shit hole! It's typical Hackney Council. No joined up writing. They
get a command from On High or a half-arsed idea, hold 126 planning
and strategy meetings, adopt a Holier Than Everyone Else attitude,
spend absolute shedloads and then wonder why people like me object
when they sound like my old Headmistress when our school skirts
were too short. Is this going to encourage anyone to be more socially
responsible? And that's just the residents who can make a vague
attempt at spelling it or who aren't too busy gunning each other
down in drug deals.
And before you all start jumping up and down, yes of course I believe
we should do our little bit to Save The Planet. And I do. But not
uber zealously and I don't bang on about it. Recycling is the latest
Stokey rod to beat everyone with. The other day I told someone I
was thinking of taking my daughter to New York at Easter and she
actually told me I shouldn't! Air travel was now in that good old
overflowing Stokey Sin Bin, contents being religiously recycled
of course. Well, she can spend the Easter hols gazing at the road
works if she likes or schlepping through Liechtenstein in a bone-shaking
camper van. I want me some Manhattan. After all, it might not be
there for much longer.
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