Twenty Four Hour Party Poopers

Every so often a story makes it into the news that makes you question whether you have tripped over and stumbled into some parallel universe where absolutely nothing makes sense and everything contravenes all that you previously understood to be normal, rational behaviour. The most recent example was the story about the five year old boy who was sent an invoice for £15.95 for failing to attend the birthday party of a classmate. 

This begs many questions, the main two being: why was this even in the national news (by extension, why am I even blogging about it) and why would anyone spend £15.95 per head on a party for five year olds? I'm not saying that five year olds don't deserve to have fun, particularly when it is their birthday. What I am saying, however, is that they would probably enjoy and value a much simpler set up with a group of friends, simple buffet food and fun party games just as much, if not more, than something more pricey and lavish. Of course, some of the other parents with whom you're competing may disagree with this but that's their problem. Your child's party is not and should never be about trying to impress anyone other than the child whose birthday it is. Let's face it, very young children do not have any concept of how much things cost and will therefore not feel obliged to be impressed by something that has cost a small fortune to plan and execute. We've all seen and heard of toddlers and young children who, upon Christmas Day, prefer to play with the box over and above its overpriced content. This is probably because children have something called an imagination and enjoy making up their own realities and narratives rather than becoming overly involved in the material realities that surround them. It is adults who care about the cost and appearance of things, not children. OK, I'm willing to conceded that many older children are into doing big, expensive activities but small children? No. Small children just like kicking back, running round and eating whatever the hell they like whilst in the presence of friends. That is what children value. I'm not getting at parents for wanting to make a child's birthday special and memorable. However, I cannot help but wonder whether there is a certain amount of competitive parenting at work here? Although not a parent myself, I do have friends who are and they tell stories of parents competing with regards to the virtues of their offspring and the holidays, gifts and parties that their said offspring can hope to enjoy thanks to their amazing parenting. One of my friends told me a dreadful story about how she had put a lot of time and effort into making a special birthday party for her little boy, only to overhear a group of parents bitching about how the music wasn't very good and how the whole party seemed “cheap.” This had, understandably, upset my friend who had done her absolute best to give her son a happy and memorable birthday only to have other parents (not children) berate her for it. If this demonstrates one thing other than the rudeness of some people it is this: children's parties have become too much about the parents and not enough about the children. It has become more about parents showing off to each other than giving a child a happy birthday. And so it is with these parents.

You see, the grievance is between the parents not the children. At the very worst, the birthday boy may have felt a little miffed at being let down but would have then perked up and had fun with his friends who had turned up. I very much doubt he would have clung to the grudge had his parents not chosen to make an issue of it in the way that they did. One of the many virtues of small children is that they do not hold grudges in the way that adults do. It is the adults here who are at fault. Of course, the parents of the no-show should have done the considerate thing and let the parents of the birthday boy know that he would be unable to attend, rather than just not showing up. According to the version of the story I have read, they did not have contact details for birthday boy's parents, which has to be one of the lamest excuses I have ever heard. For one thing, why would you not put contact details on an invitation when you want and expect people to respond. Furthermore, we live in the age of mass communication. Even if you don't know somebody's contact details, somebody else in your circle more than likely will. Could these parents not have thought of a way of finding said contact details or relaying the message to the parents another way? They could have, for example, got one of the other parents to contact birthday boy's family on their behalf or slipped a message into birthday boy's satchel. However they chose to communicate the message would have been much more considerate than just not letting them know at all. 

Having said that, I'm not in favour of billing somebody for not showing up. It just seems petty and, despite birthday boy's parents saying that it's not about the money, it makes it precisely about the money. I understand that there is a principal here and there may well have a point in that when you say that you will attend an event you should either honour your word or let the host know that you will be unable to do so. That is basic consideration, which is something that many people seem to think is lacking in today's self centred society. I am all for expressing your disappointment when you've been let down by somebody but I question the way that these parents went about doing it. Aside from the financial issue; there is also a feeling that this is underhand and, yes, immature. Why was it that these people did not feel able to approach the other parents and have an open discussion with them about why they and their son were disappointed? I can wager that this would have probably been much more effective than simply slipping an invoice into a child's school bag. Who knows? The parents may have even offer to pay up or make it up to the birthday boy another way. Instead you have two sets of parents dominating the news and social media with their adultish falling outs and two little boys who will probably grow up to be very embarrassed about their parents' behaviour.

Wedding belles and feminist hell

I don’t know whether I have shared this piece of lovely but ultimately useless information with you yet but I’m getting married next year.  Don’t worry; I’m not about to morph into one of those dickheads who constantly rambles on about wedding dresses, seating plans and table tat.  I wouldn’t be mentioning it now if it didn’t provide me with a context for my latest rant.

So, today my partner and I went to a wedding fair.  I had visions of it being full of over-enthusiastic business proprietors trying to flog their wares, most of which are very pretty but largely inconsequential, to a load of overenthusiastic wannabe princesses and their pushy mothers.  I wasn’t far wrong.

On arrival, we were greeted by the sight of a Bentley and some other classic vehicle, which were suitably blinged up for the occasion and flower arrangements that would have made Chelsea Flower Show look woefully amateurish.  There were also the cursory bewildered looking fathers and boyfriends who had presumably been dragged there against their will (I felt their pain).  All this was set to a soundtrack of wedding ballads being played by what were, admittedly, two very talented violinists.  Thus, I was choking back my disdain before even entering the building.  Things didn’t improve any when we actually entered: we were greeted by a very jaded looking woman who didn’t seem all that interested either in us or in the event itself (though, to be fair, by this point she had probably overheard more than enough ridiculous conversations to last her her entire lifetime), who duly handed us a prize draw form.  My main issue with this was that it asked for the names of the bride and her partner, which is both heteronormative and very presumptuous.  For the benefit of any non-British readers: civil partnerships are now a relatively common occurrence in the UK, which means that the people getting “married” could be of the same or opposite gender and yet this form appeared to make the assumption that the couple in question would either be lesbian or heterosexual without stopping to consider the possibility that two men might be getting married.  EPIC FAIL.

The rest of the event went pretty much as I anticipated.  There were plenty of businesses present, all touting their services.  There were the novelty juke box people; the wedding dress people and the photographers.  However, my all time favourite had to be the cake people.  Not people who were made of cake, you understand.  Although this would have made the day that little bit more bearable and even mildly entertaining.  No, these were local bakeries who had cakes that were so big that they could have made rather spacious dwellings.  Thinking about it, this could be the answer to Britain’s housing crisis: instead of buying the couple gifts the guests could all contribute towards a colossal wedding cake which the couple could then live in.  It might suffer from the odd problem with mould but it would probably last a lot longer than many of the new builds you see being thrown up all over the place these days and you probably wouldn’t need planning permission!  OK, so it’s technically a stupid idea but it’s no more stupid than spending a stupid amount on ONE DAY.  Seriously, why on Earth would you need stupid table decorations?  Do you seriously think people will question the validity of your marriage if you don’t have them?  In one hundred years time when some random descendent is looking back through their family history, do you actually think that your lack of centrepieces is going to be apparent?  Probably not.  All these thoughts were whirling through my little head as I wondered round the place, dutifully avoiding the hungry eyes of the predatory sales people.

Then there was the fact that they targeted me rather than my partner.  Even when my partner instigated conversations with company reps, they aimed their responses at me.  Like I am going to know or even care about how many people to cater for.  If I had my way, they would all be paying for their own lunches or at least being fed gruel (I desperately wanted a Charles Dickens themed wedding but, alas, my partner refused on the grounds that it was a stupid idea).  Besides, I felt a little uneasy discussing the merits of cheesy filo pastry thinglets whilst I know that at that present moment, there would be some poor Ethiopian child dying of hunger or some Bradfordian pensioner dying of the cold.  In light of such suffering, deciding which overpriced decorative horrors to inflict upon wedding guests seemed to be a pretty pointless exercise.  I was on the brink of asking whether we could forfeit the buffet and send the cash to Oxfam or something but I’m pretty sure this would have gone down as well as a turd in a vindaloo. All these thoughts were occurring to me as the catering rep was talking at me about the various options available.  I wasn’t entirely sure why you would focus all of your attention and information on somebody who was blatantly not paying any attention to what was going on.   I’m sure there is a reason for this that does not involve me being a woman who has dreamed about her perfect day since girlhood but I just can’t think of what this would be.

Needless to say, we didn’t stay too long.  My exasperated partner had to give in gracefully and concede that I probably wasn’t going to stop being facetious after I snubbed a poor lady who was trying to sell cake lollies to me.   I think it is fair to say that I will not be accompanying him on his next wedding related excursion.

GTA 5

Sorry I haven’t been around much (ok at all): I’ve been busy with stuff.  I appreciate that this is rather evasive as excuses go and that may seem unsatisfactory but that’s the only excuse you’re getting.  Anyway, I’m back....

Sooo not much of note has happened, apart from the usual recession related crap and I’m presuming that you really don’t want to read about that.  Or maybe you do.  Either way, I don’t want to write about it so you will have to go elsewhere for your fix of doom.

Of course, two weeks ago they released Grand Theft Auto, much to the delight of nerds everywhere.  To be honest, I haven’t played the game so I’m not entirely sure what the point in it actually is.  From what I understand, it revolves around shooting at people whilst driving badly: something that nerds everywhere probably wish they could do and get away with.  Ah if only.

I’ve heard many complaints about the game, mostly from abandoned partners of GTA obsessed nerds.  I am one such partner as mine is, right at this moment in time, barricaded in the study playing the game whilst I am typing up this blog post and listening to Alice Cooper.  Rock and roll.  Anyway, I seem to be in the minority of partners who is actually relishing the freedom that this game has bestowed upon me.  Below is a list of freedoms that have come about as a result of the boyfriend’s newfound obsession:

1.       Eating on the sofa.  My boyfriend normally hates this so I try not to do it when he is around or conscious enough to notice what I’m doing.  However, not only has he barely left the study in the past two weeks; when he has left he is so focused on his game that he’s not really paying attention to what I’m doing.  Therefore, I can actually eat my meals on the sofa without him noticing.

2.       Watching bad TV.  In an attempt not to appear too inane, I tend not to watch anything that has been broadcast by channel four or five in the presence of my boyfriend.  This means that I usually have to wait until he is out before I dare tuck into any guilty pleasures and even then I am always a little worried that he might reappear before my programme has finished.  However, now he is distracted by GTA I can watch such gems as “My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding” and “The Undatables” until my heart’s content.

3.       I can leave my stuff lying around the house knowing that he will have neither the time nor the concentration to tidy it away.

4.       He’s not around to nick my chocolate, Doritos and other confectionary.

5.       I can write facetious blog posts safe in the knowledge that he is far too busy to read them.

6.       Endless happiness.  My boyfriend is currently experiencing unprecedented levels of euphoria and I HAVEN’T HAD TO MAKE ANY EFFORT.  I’ve not had to go out of my way to be nice, buy gifts or massage his ego.  He is just happy.  And I haven’t had to do anything apart from leave him in front of a games console to stare at a screen and moan in pleasure every few seconds.  This appeals to my emotionally lazy side.

I’m sure there are more benefits to this new addition to this household but I’m far too lazy to try and think of them just now.  Back to “Don’t Tell The Bride” or whatever drivel channel 4 are currently broadcasting.

Bridget Jones Tax

Just when you thought that this country could not get any more hateful towards singletons, the Labour Party comes out and suggests that they should be paying more council tax.  Just in case you don’t already know, single occupants currently enjoy a 25% discount on their council tax, which may sound like a lot (especially given the fact that local councils are feeling the pinch due to cuts that have been imposed by Westminster).  However, you need to remember that single people won’t produce as much waste as couples or families.  They probably won’t use schools (well, unless they are a single parent family) and, above all else, they get sidelined by policy makers and think tanks alike.

Despite the fact that single occupant households now make up 29% of total households in the UK, singletons are repeatedly ignored when it comes to designing services or offering financial help, with the majority of financial help being offered to families and pensioners.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating leaving children to starve or pensioners to die of hypothermia.  I’m not totally heartless.  However, I do feel that more could be done to help those who are trying to survive on one (often moderate) income. 

I’m not entirely sure why this inequality exists.  I certainly think that as a county we are so family centric that we fail to understand that there are those who live alone, be it through choice or through circumstance.  We are socially conditioned to believe that in order for an individual to function socially, they must be part of a family.  Preferably that family will be a loving, nurturing one in which every individual is loved and supported and whilst society acknowledges that this model does not always work out at times, we still champion the family as the basis of a functional society.  After all, a society is made up of individuals and so healthy individuals make a healthy society.  Thus, it seems to be a commonly held belief that even the most dysfunctional family is better than no family at all.   That a person who lives alone is in some way sad and deficient.  It is also a challenge to what society deems as being normal. 

Or perhaps it is purely because nobody stays single forever, right?  After all, everyone so wants to meet the perfect partner, get married/ have a civil partnership, buy a house in the suburbs with a double garage and neatly manicured lawn, have or adopt lots of kids and continue their onward march towards middle-age and an ever expanding waste line.  When you think about it like that, who the hell would ever choose to remain single?  No, singleness is a stop-gap.  A transition period between the not so perfect partner and the partner to whom you will eventually surrender your sense of self and independence.  You don’t actually think anyone believes it when you say that you really enjoy your own company and could never imagine having to share your space with another person, do you?  Thus, if singleness is “just a phase” and one that most of us, at some stage or other, are to grow out of, then why should the government and the rest of society make exceptions and provisions for it?

Maybe because we live in a country that claims to respect individual life choices and because we need to stop being so darnright patronising.  Just because somebody does not want to waste their Sundays in B&Q or running around after smaller versions of themselves; it does not make them non existent.  It also doesn’t mean that they don’t need help.  Things like fuel bills, rent/mortgage payments and insurance all have to be paid.  Many of these costs are ever increasing and would cost as much for one person as they would for three.  OK, so maybe if you’re on your own then you could get away with smaller house, which would cost you less in terms of rent/ mortgage payments but still....

Then there’s the fact that married couples get tax breaks.  Why?  Apart from conforming to the whims of society, I really don’t see why a piece of paper should automatically mean that you qualify for tax breaks, especially if you have two incomes.  It’s simple really, the more your household earns, the greater your tax bill should be.  No ifs.  No buts.  Relationship status should not come into it.  Single people who live alone and earn less than married or cohabiting couples should not have to surrender their council tax discount.  Likewise, married couples should not get preferential treatment.

RIP equality

So last week we waved goodbye to Margaret Thatcher and some people were, predictably, more thrilled at the occurrence than others.  Reactions to her passing seemed to vary; some were literally dancing in the street, others were openly venerating her and talking about what a fantastic person she was, whilst others just couldn’t give a shit.

I have to admit that I did actually watch bits of the funeral.  Whilst I cannot claim to be her biggest fan (OK, I thought that in many ways she was an absolute disaster for this country and for the working classes in particular), I found it interesting from a modern history point of view.  I also like to see where my taxes are going and since I was generous enough to contribute to the funeral fund I thought I should at least show some interest.  By contribute I mean that part of my taxes had been creamed off in order to pay for the anger inspiring vomit fest.  I’m still not entirely sure why I was forced to contribute towards the funeral of somebody I didn’t even know or like.  If you ask me (and nobody did), it should have been something that was conducted in private for her family, friends and colleagues rather than as a grand media circus.

I haven’t actually been to or witnessed that many funerals but I couldn’t help but note the contrast.  The limited number I have attended have been simple affairs in a church or a crematorium with very little fuss.  I know that this is probably going to be the same for my own goodbye.  I certainly won’t be hauled onto a gun carriage and paraded through the streets of London accompanied by police and members of the armed forces.  David Dimbleby won’t be narrating my coffin’s progress or interviewing my friends and colleagues about what a wonderful person I was.  I won’t have flags flown at half mast or an adoring public clapping as I make my final journey.  In short, nobody will give a shit because not being pretty, rich, powerful or famous, I am just not that important.  I am just a number and when I finally do give up the ghost not that much will change as a result. 

We tell children that everyone is important but the older I get the more I realise that this clearly is not so.  We have had governments that will happily surrender tax payers’ money to fund lavish royal weddings and lavish funerals for royals and ex prime ministers, whilst allowing ordinary people to die of cold and lack of food.  All around us, the poor and disabled are dying because of cuts to benefit and the disgusting prices being charged by greedy utility companies.  Yet, very few people are out on the streets bewailing their deaths.  The BBC are not reporting on their suffering with the same vigour as they did the royal wedding or the death of the queen mother.  One would almost think that, unlike the parasitic royals and evil politicians, these people do not matter.  

When I’m Big I Want to be a Pwincess

I think I may be having a mid-youth crisis.  Having suddenly realised that I am inching ever closer to 30, I have suddenly found myself in a desperate bid to reclaim my idyllic childhood by gobbling through endless plates of jelly, flicking through photos of family fun days out (what was I wearing) and stocking up on Disney films.  I realise that as a feminist, this poses a problem.  Behind all the sparkle, magic and catchy tunes lurks a negative message and that is that girls and women need men.  We need them to help us to escape from whatever hardship life has thrown at us and to elevate us to a position where we will never have to worry about evil stepmothers, poverty or wicked witches ever again.  All we have to be is beautiful, feminine and charming.  Things that the “average” girl or woman doesn’t believe that she is or can ever be, which leads to low self esteem. 

Sooo...this leads to a conundrum, particularly for a feminist.  On the one hand, these films are well put together, beautifully crafted masterpieces that offer some escapism in dreary times.  Yet, on the other, they peddle a belief that a girl’s sole ambition should be to marry a prince and become a princess.  Not exactly a teaching that is in line with feminist thinking, which centres around a woman being independent, self sufficient and appreciated for her capabilities and achievements rather than her physical beauty.  After all, most girls and women are not Disney princess material so what do they do?  Oh that’s easy.  We go to university, study hard and get jobs as doctors, teachers, solicitors, librarians, journalists, business leaders and scientists.  Some of us may even get married/ enter into civil partnerships and procreate.  Others may adopt, cohabit or remain single.  We may have once dreamed of being Ariel or Belle but life, common sense and lack prancing ability intervened and we decided to try and be something more sensible, such as meteorologists, estate agents and call centre workers.  No longer can we envision jamming along with singing crabs and happy woodland animals (not without a ready supply on hallucinogens and my employer tends to frown on this sort of thing).  True, some facets of the Disney experience have carried through into real, adult life.  There are still evil villains (otherwise known as the Conservative party) just begging to be defeated and lured into a fiery pit.  However, many of us have already come to terms with the fact that there is no handsome prince to rescue us from the drudgery of everyday life and that even if there was, he probably wouldn’t be interested in us.  Sigh.

Are we disappointed?  Obviously, I can’t speak for every woman ever.  I am guessing that most women are probably not too disappointed in the lack of a two dimensional poser with a blinding Colgate smile.  Furthermore, those princess dresses look tight and uncomfortable.  Such a far cry from our comfortable dungarees and summer dresses! 

So is Disney harmful?  I really don’t know.  Certainly, the message that in order to achieve anything in life a woman must be beautiful, is harmful.  We live in a world where beautiful women are celebrated over and above women who have contributed to fields such as science, politics, art, literature, law, business, technology, sociology and medicine.  If you don’t believe me, try this simple test: ask a random sample of people who Marilyn Monroe is.  Then ask the same person who Anita Roddick/ Harriet Harman/ Anne Lister/ Constance Briscoe/ Rita O’Grady/ Marie Curie/ Emily Davidson are.  I can guarantee that more people will be able to tell you who Marilyn Monroe is, whilst comparatively few will be able to tell you who the others are.  This is despite the fact that these are all women who have contributed immensely to their own field and to the wider world.  Furthermore, these are strong women and examples of people who we should want our daughters to emulate.  Yet, they are not celebrated as they should be.  As children we look for people to look up to and emulate.  We can only look up to those we know about.  Young boys have their male role models in footballers, business leaders and politicians.  Young girls have models, actresses and Disney princesses.  That is it.  Every other female role model is kept away from them or ridiculed as being unfeminine and unnatural.  Therefore, young girls look to those examples of womanhood that are accepted and celebrated in the hope that they too will be accepted and celebrated.  I would argue that the existence of Disney is not harmful in itself.  However, when you combine it with the severe LACK of representation of strong women within society, you do have a very dangerous situation indeed.

Sssssh

It is an oft repeated gag: elderly relative bursts forth with some very un PC comment in a room full of people, which probably includes those who belong to the group being mentioned/ discussed.  More often than not, it is their very presence that has inspired comment.  For example “Oooo look Jenny, there’s a (insert offensive term here).”  Shocked at their apparent lack of embarrassment and self censorship, you desperately try to tell them that they shouldn’t say such things whilst glancing around to make sure that nobody overheard.  You are conflicted.  On the one hand, you know that such words/ phrases are offensive and shouldn’t be said at all, let alone in public.  Yet, granny is 86 and such words were not deemed offensive in her formative years.  When she was growing up gay meant happy rather than homosexual.  Words that we now consider racial slurs were probably nothing more than descriptive terms.  No harm intended.  Furthermore, she’s got this far and lived her life using these words and isn’t liable to change at this late stage.  So does this mean that we should merely accept it when older people use language that we deem to be sexist, racist, homophobic etc?  Is age really a valid excuse for saying things that other people may find offensive?

The reason I ask is because an eighty year old soap star is currently being slated for saying that victims of sexual abuse are paying for sins committed in past lives.  Not surprisingly, this has caused outrage, particularly amongst victims of abuse and organisations that support them.  However, there are those who are leaping to his defence and stating that he should not be vilified for this abhorrent point of view because of his age.   Call me a social fascist if you like but I don’t think that age is any excuse, unless of course there are other underlying medical things going on (such as Alzheimer’s or autism).  To me, if a person fully understands what they are saying and what is going on in the world around them then they are responsible for their behaviour.  This rule should apply whether the person is eighteen or eighty six.  To say that they are simply too old to change is ridiculous.  As humans we never stop learning and part of the learning process involves adapting to the changing world around us.  It may well be disconcerting to learn that certain words, customs and beliefs we were brought up with are redundant or no longer acceptable but that’s life. 

If we want a more tolerant and accepting society we need to challenge prejudice wherever we find it, even if it feels mean or uncomfortable to do so.  I mean, you can challenge without being offensive or condescending.  You don’t have to necessarily have to treat them to a lecture about how not to behave in public but it is always a good idea to patiently explain that some people may find their words offensive and/ or upsetting.  Of course, if you do this you lay yourself open to being criticised for being intolerant.  You may even get the whole “I fought a war so that we could all be free to talk the way we like” speech.  And yes, this may be the case.  I am not for a second disputing that the older generation have made and continue to make a valuable contribution to society.  However, this does not exempt them from having to consider the possible ramifications of what they say.  Just like the rest of us, they should (as far as is reasonable) ensure that what they say does not offend and upset other people.  Surely this is not too much to ask of anybody.