But you’re so near death!

A report this morning on geriatric care in hospital – surprise, surprise, it falls short of the basic standard of care one would expect in a dog-kennel: not feeding or giving water, terrible hygiene, no attention given etc etc.  Why should we be surprised?  Old age is now so feared and vilified; people go to such great lengths to keep it – or at least, the appearance of it – at bay; and why?  Because we fear death: because, as a society, we no longer believe in life beyond death, so we try to prolong life as far as possible.  This ought to mean that we give older people every possible care: in fact it means we give up on them.  Whilst every effort is made to look after babies and children, even to the extent of wrapping them in cotton-wool, older people are consigned to the scrap-heap and no-one has any interest in them.  It used to be the other way round; old people were venerated at the expense of the young.  Can’t we do both?

The people I feel sorry for are those who are now old; they’ve had it from both ends – ignored or sidelined as children and now they’re old, they’re not getting the traditional rewards of age either.

Bong!  Another annoying event, this time closer to home – in more than one sense: a 13-year-old Home Ed child travelling on East Midlands Trains yesterday was told that she looked 16 and must therefore produce ID; on saying she was 13 and didn’t have ID the ticket collector told her that she should be at school.  She replied that she was Home Educated.

–  You ought to be at home then, he replied.  He then told her she was ‘lucky they didn’t involve the police.’

Such ignorance is commonplace and needs to be countered: we are considering a group letter-writing action.

I have received a reply from the PRS; they are ‘looking into’ my complaint.

Did I tell you about that?  Hang on – I’ll have a look.  Nope, doesn’t look as though I did.  Well, the PRS collects dough on behalf of musicians and gives it to them.  That’s the theory, at least.  In practice what they seem to do is hound people who happen to have the radio on in the background when customers come calling (apparently they did Kwik-fit for that – a Kwik fit-up, if you ask me.)  Well, we had a few calls from them – I took some and Mark took some – and Mark went through all their questions and was told we don’t need a PRS licence.  Fine.  Except they kept calling us.  And calling us.  It got to the point where it was beyond a nuisance and became harassment – so the last time I ranted at the woman and told her not to call us again OR ELSE.  And I complained.

These people must be stopped – it’s a bloody racket which has nothing to do with actually paying musicians and everything to do with fleecing innocent people.


Kirk out