It was as long ago as February 2018 that I had a bit of a rant about Princess Meghan - here`s the link to that post - https://snoppersays.blogspot.com/search?q=The+Brothers+Grimm. (Click on the link and scroll down to the second post that appears after this one.)

 That post was called `Not Quite Right` and I ended up by suggesting that, for all the usual hullabaloo that surrounds the royal family, there was `something not quite right` about the Meghan and Harry thing.   It was no more than a suspicion at the time, but here we are nearly a year and a half on and, if anything, my suspicions have been confirmed by the extraordinary news that Meggy is the guest editor of `Vogue` magazine and has produced a list of sixteen women whom she admires the most in today`s world.

Now I have vaguely heard of Vogue magazine but I confess that I have never even glanced at it and it has almost completely passed me by.  Not sure I`ve missed much as it seems to be a magazine devoted to high fashion, a dedicated follower of which I have never been and am not likely to become.   I guess it  has a limited audience, mainly among those who dwell in the rarefied atmosphere of haute couture and perhaps those who may be more than a little removed from the real world.  So maybe it`s not surprising that Meghan`s 16 worthies are largely unheard of, not to say irrelevant, to the rest of us.

So who are these `women?   Well, to be fair I have actually heard of two or three of them - Jane Fonda; actress, political activist,  model and fitness guru, still going strong at 81.  Then there is sixteen year old Swedish `climate change activist` Greta Thunberg who is responsible for sparking the school strikes across 112 countries to ram home the climate change mantra.  She has also addressed MPs in Parliament and is nominated for a Nobel Prize this year.   (I think that when I was 16 I was having a real good time, enjoying life and revelling in new experiences and I hate to think of the trouble I would have been in had I started school strikes and had the youthful arrogance  to make a global nuisance of myself.)     The third of the`women`I have heard of is one truly to admire - Jacinda Ardern, Prime Minister of that thoroughly admirable country New Zealand..  

As for the rest of them, there is a 19 year old who has risen from being a child refugee to a supermodel;  a rising star wanting to end racial prejudice; a DJ who is at war with fat shaming; a writer fighting gender injustice; another model who is also a mental health campaigner; a star of the royal ballet; a Somali who boxed to beat bullies; a catwalk legend caring for mothers; an apparent film star with a social conscience; someone who made fashion `more exclusive;` another actress who is an LGBT activist and a US sitcom actress  intent on encouraging voter turnout.

Now of course that panoply of worthiness is the kind that can only be found in the world which Meghan and her cronies inhabit and know about - all very vague which seems all very `Vogue.`  But if anything, it all confirms to me that almost anything connected with Megs somehow isn`t quite right.  

I wonder how long it will last.

Well, maybe - we shall see.

Having now seen our new Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, making `em roll in the aisles, a worrying thought occurred to me as I was watching his bravura performance at PM Questions in Parliament and his subsequent outbursts.  I wondered if he was in the right line of business.

Now, a certain Michael McIntyre has made a handsome living by revelling in the self-delusion that shouting rather loudly in a posh accent, waving his arms about and shaking his head a lot automatically makes him funny and lovable to his audiences.  And to be fair his captive audiences seem to have been persuaded of his gift for hilarity.

And it seems in these early stages of his Premiership that Boris might also be revelling in a similar form of self delusion by shouting rather loudly in a posh accent, waving his arms about and shaking his head a lot thereby making for a compelling politician on the top of his game.

Time will tell with Boris - he`s got until Halloween to prove whether he can deliver on his promises to his captive audience who need to be persuaded of any gifts he may have for sincerity and competence.

If he can deliver, then there might be some hope for him but sadly I fear they may be two of a kind - admired by the gullible but unconvinced by the doubtful.   Sometimes it`s difficult to differentiate between comedy and politics..and these two are not making it any easier.

No wonder I`m exhausted !   Yesterday was one of those days when things seemed to get worse as the day went by.   And what momentous events they were.   I know we live in unusual, not to say unprecedented, times but really some of the things that came to pass yesterday made me wonder whether I had been transported to the set of a Disney fantasy epic.   But the reality, of course, was that I was simply continuing to live in yet another example of the fact that we are living proof of existing in God`s blueprint, the prototype, the draft edition so that all the bugs can be ironed out before He (or more likely She) produces the proper job.

The big issues of the day included, of course, the anointing of Big Boris as our new Prime Minister following yet another thoroughly undemocratic process which foisted him on the country thanks to the votes of about 92,000 card carrying conservatives.   He`ll have his rant to Parliament today whereupon Parliament will shut down until  a brief reappearance in September.   There was a time when railroads were run properly - this ain`t no way to run a railroad.

Then another hot steamy day of weather - temperatures soaring, humidity rising and us elderly burdens confined to barracks as we comply with Government `advice.`   It`s all down to climate change, of course, although it might still be another design fault that God has to iron out before getting it right.   At least it keeps the climate change protesters, the plastic protesters and the mental health campaigners busy.

But surely the most momentous event in all of yesterday`s priorities was the capitulation of the England cricket team who were dismissed for a mere 85 before lunch in the Lord`s Test against Ireland.   This may have been an allegory of the Irish Government`s  determination to keep the backstop for the border with Northern Ireland - yet another uncanny event with hidden meaning, dire consequences and an unknown outcome.

And finally, in the late evening Hampshire went down to a resounding defeat against Sussex in the T20 competition at Hove, actually.   Just seemed to bring the day to an appropriate finale.   Nurse !!!!!

SCORCHIO....

According to the weather forecasts, today is going to be a scorcher here in south east England, with temperatures rising to the mid to late 30sC although the high humidity might make it feel more like the low 40sC.  And it`s expected to become even hotter and more humid as the week progresses.

Last time we were faced with this kind of forecast, the Government helpfully issued `advice` to the elderly and vulnerable along the lines of `staying indoors, not venturing out into the sun, drinking plenty of fluids, resting as much as possible and generally taking it easy.`

All very helpful.   So I think today I will stay indoors, not go out in the sun, drink plenty of fluids, rest as much as possible and generally take it easy even if it is my 58th wedding anniversary.   

Have a nice day.

ANOTHER GAME TO REMEMBER...

I`ve got quite a few cricket books on my shelves which reflects the fact that cricket is yet another of the passions in my life.   One of them is called `Cricket`s Strangest Matches` - a compendium of the most unusual matches played in the history of the game.   And over the last weekend I became aware of another game that took place last Friday which would surely find a place in any updated edition of that book.

Essex`s South African import,  Cameron Delport, smashed an astonishing 129 from only 49 balls as Essex crushed Surrey by 52 runs in their Vitality Blast battle at Chelmsford, a game that had been reduced to fifteen overs per side because of a rain delay.

It was carnage that had the crowd repeatedly taking evasive action as a torrent of sixes rained down upon them.  In all, Delport cleared the ropes on fourteen occasions while recording the fastest century in the competition by an Essex player.   He reached three figures from only 38 deliveries but was not the only one that had the spectators ducking for cover as Essex ran up a remarkable 226 for 4 in their allotted 15 overs.

Dan Lawrence joined in the big-hitting spectacular with an unbeaten 57 from 22 balls that included six sixes and two fours. He reached his half-century from just 17 deliveries whilst creating another slice of Essex history.   It was the fastest 50 for the county in the competition and with Delport, he added 135 in only seven overs.

Delport walked off to a standing ovation after being caught on the long-on boundary off Jade Dernbach, the only Surrey bowler who emerged with decent figures. His permitted three overs went for only 21 while in complete contrast, Tom Curran conceded 63, being hit for six sixes and five fours in his three overs - 21 off each of them.

I don`t know - mainly because of the paucity of media coverage that this game produced - but I can imagine thatTom Curran`s reaction to the onslaught he received might well have mirrored that of David Duval, "Well, that`s the way it goes.  Worse things happen to people every day."

Oh, the illustration about trying harder?  Well, the press and other sporting media really should have picked up on this extraordinary game and given it the attention it deserved.  

It`s been a busy few days, what with the usual trials of life`s rich pageant and the small matter of celebrating my 80th birthday yesterday, which was a memorable day for me and one which demonstrated yet again the good fortune I have to be blessed with family and good neighbours and friends.   Not sure I feel 80 and equally not sure how you are supposed to feel at my age but the truth is that I don`t `feel` 80 - I am grimly hanging on to my adolescence and my avowed determination not to grow up. 

Anyway, in between all that, I have been transfixed by the Tour de France and, since Thursday, by the Open Golf.   I watched quite a bit of it today and came to the view that watching the standard of play becoming almost metronomic  probably means that at the highest professional level there comes a point whereby a sport become a job - and maybe the fun goes out of it a bit.

Now I confess to having played golf at an appallingly mediocre level - I bought the gear, the balls, the clubs, I pay the green fees and after all those outgoings I think I`m entitled to hit the ball as many times as I can.  I have succeeded in that philosophy and it has not only stood me in good stead over the years but has also meant that I have enjoyed playing for the love of the game.

So I could identify with the travails of David Duval - a 47-tear old American professional golfer and former world No. 1 who has won 13 PGA Tour tournaments and the Open Championship itself in 2001.  Good for him but of course that`s not the bit I identify with.  Rather I quietly admired the fact that in the first round of the current Open, he scored 91, including taking 14 shots at one hole.   He would be forgiven for calling it a day and flying home to Florida but no, he went back out for a second round of 78, giving him a total of 169 for his two rounds - a mere 27 over par.  

But what was perhaps more remarkable were his post match comments, when in answer to how he felt at his abject score, he declared, "Well, that`s the way it goes - worse things happen to people every day."  He obviously plays these days for the love of the game and I hope the game loves him for it.

Not a good week to be a Kiwi.   Having lost the cricket world cup final to England on Sunday, thanks to an inexplicable change in the rules of the competition and some dubious on-field umpiring decisions, it just gets worse for New Zealanders who now find themselves `robbed` of one of the world`s most prestigious records.

Until now, the undisputed steepest street in the world has been recognised as Baldwin Street in the Otago city of Dunedin, with a gradient of 35% but now residents in Harlech, in Gwynedd, North Wales, are celebrating after Guiness World Records verified the gradient of Ffodd Pen Llech at 37.5%.  Campaigner Gwyn Headley said, "I feel utter jubilation - I feel sorry for the New Zealanders but steeper is steeper."

Hamish McNeilly from the New Zealand website Stuff said, "I`m angry about a lot of things in the world this week but this has just ruined my week. I`m not going to get over this, as it follows the cricket which also made me angry.  It`s a bad week,  It really is."  He added that a street in San Francisco was now understood to be taking the record away from Wales.

As for me, I feel a lot of sympathy for our New Zealand friends but they should still rejoice in the fact that they have produced the world`s best rugby team, a decent cricket team, Sam Neill , Dame Kiri te Kanawa, Sir Ernest Rutherford, Edmund Hillary and Crowded House.   Not bad for a country of just five million souls..

OK, so the rest of the world is going on about yesterday`s fantastic day of sport and it doesn`t really need me to add to all the chat about it.   But sometimes things happen that make it impossible not to contribute to the litany of  comment and I`m no exception.  So here goes.

Now it used to be said that sport was the last refuge for those who find it impossible to idle, but even slumping in a chair for much of the day could hardly be described as idling given that there was so much going on for most of the day.  

But.I really must start with the cricket.  In my younger days I played a lot of cricket, even captaining a village team and I think it is one of those games that you really have had to play in order to fully understand and appreciate it.  But I suspect that the gripping climax to the World Cup Final at Lord`s must surely have meant that those who were not cricket buffs were as enthralled as those who are.  It was a truly memorable occasion and while being proud and happy that England are now world champions, I do spare more than just a thought for the New Zealand team who showed great sportsmanship, competitiveness and dignity in the narrowest of defeats that demonstrated that the spirit of cricket - that elusive je ne sais quoi - is alive and well in the Kiwi hands.  Maybe they will take some comfort in knowing that they were indeed part of something very special and that only a change in the laws of the game prevented them from being world champions themselves.

And while all that was going on, the tennis final at Wimbledon produced its own version of unique conclusion when the men`s singles final between Roger Federer and Novak Djokavic went to a fifth set tie-break for the first time in a final.  I used to play tennis as well - very badly admittedly - but I`ve sort of gone off Wimbledon in recent years what with its pomposity, elitism, its strawberries and cream, its Henman Hill and `come on Andy.` it`s a bit bonk-bonk 15-love, bonk-bonk 15-all and so on.  But I have to admit that yesterday`s final was, like the Lord`s one, something else that will live long in the memory.

And so to Silverstone, where Lewis Hamilton won the British Grand Prix for the sixth time bringing his F1 victories to a remarkable sixty.  Once again I must confess to some disenchantment with F1 which always seems a bit boring and arguably the most environmentally hostile of sports but even I have to acknowledge Hamilton`s achievements, especially as he seems now to have grown up from his days of `other-worldliness` when he seemed to distance himself from the realities of the rest of us.

I confess to being in awe of the Tour de France - the three-weeks long slog around the country, the ups and downs, the time trials, the sheer stamina required and the atmosphere surrounding the whole event is truly remarkable.  After five years of Le Tour being won by British riders I hope that Geraint Thomas might retain his title when the event ends in Paris in ten days time.   Like the other events of this mad weekend, the TV coverage is itself awesome and the commentaries come courtesy of those who have been there, done that and got the embrocation.   Trouble was that yesterday it was on at the same time as Wimbledon, the cricket and the Grand Prix so I hope today to be able to watch it without channel flicking and jumping up and down.

Almost last but not least, Southampton FC`s website was showing live action from the pre-season friendly between the Saints and some team in Austria which would have been fascinating to watch in full, rather than the odd snatched glimpse of a 1-1 draw.   Like the cricket final, that was another sporting occasion which neither team really deserved to lose.

Oh, before I forget, there is even the ongoing Netball World Cup going on but I`m afraid that I have not yet been able to get too enthusiastic about it especially when all the other events have taken their physical and mental toll on me after a day to remember of all days to remember.

To Sevenoaks for a bit of an emergency visit to my dentist.  A couple of weeks ago I was happily munching my way through a Marks and Spencer`s jam doughnut when a filling came away along with half a tooth.  Admittedly the doughnut was a bit tough and chewy so rather than blame the tooth I`m considering sending the dentist bill to M & S. 

Rang the dentist - on holiday - had to wait until yesterday to be seen.  Now I have a long and unfortunate history of dentistry, having suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous practitioners in the past whose sole aim seemed to be to brush up on their masochism.  But some years ago I found my current dentist who has turned out to be an orthodontic angel - understanding, caring, highly efficient (when not on holiday) and very good at what she does.

So, thanks to her expertise yesterday my offending gnasher has been restored to its former glory - my modelling career is secure and I can look the world in the eye with a smile back on my face.

I`M CONFUSED....

Well, it`s hardly surprising.  Now there was a time when I despaired at the fact that after thousand of years of human existence, we had finally managed to produce Mrs. Brown`s Boys.   But more recent events have nudged that triumph into second place behind the extraordinary state of politics in this country.

I`ll begin by going back to the results of the referendum in June 2016, which now seems a life time away but it`s perhaps worth noting some aspects of the result.  Admittedly it was a tight call but the result of the biggest democratic vote in the country`s history was nevertheless a majority in favour of leaving the EU with 17.4 million voting to leave and 16.1 million voting to remain.

The referendum results also showed that 406 parliamentary constituencies voted to leave, with 242 voting to remain.   Of those constituencies that were either Labour or Conservative, 148 Labour constituencies voted to leave with 84 voting to remain.  As for the Conservative constituencies, 247 voted to leave, with 80 voting to remain. All in all, whether you personally voted to leave or remain, it`s hard to deny the substantial majority in facour of leaving the EU.   However, in that same referendum, 160 Members of Parliament voted to leave but 486 voted to remain.

So it`s pretty obvious that the problem is not the result but the MPs who should be honouring the result and implementing the majority decision - and it was a decision left to the country to decide.   As I say, no wonder I`m confused and I have been for over three years now as to why the majority are still being denied.

But if anything, Brexit has brought about yet more confusion.  To be fair to them, the Liberal Democrats have consistently refused to accept the will of the majority and are still campaigning for Brexit to be stopped one way or another.  So their idea of liberal democracy should surely mean that they change their name  at least.

As for Labour, they were apparently in favour of abiding by the wishes of the majority of their supporters by voting for Article 50 but now they seem to have changed their minds at the behest of their trade union paymasters as they see their best chance of political gain, not to say survival, is to court the remain vote in any forthcoming general election.  That`s if the leadership - I use the term lightly - can ever bring itself to get off the fence and start being honest.

Finally the Conservatives - riven for decades by the question of Europe - have embarked on probably the most undemocratic process by which the country ends up with a new Prime Minister.   It surely cannot be right that 160,000 paid up conservative party members can decide who will lead a country of 60 million souls and furthermore we are likely to have foisted upon us someone of doubtful character, limited ability and embarrassing persona.

About 15 years ago my football club, Southampton, was being run by a Chairman who possessed similar `attributes.`   As a shareholder, I expressed the view at the time that I did not want the club to continue to be represented in that way and I recall being confused then as to how that problem might be resolved.   But that is nothing to the confusion I feel now.

Fortunately, my club came through its crisis - but I wonder if the country can ever do the same?

TIME TO SPLASH OUT ?...

Had an official letter from HM Gov. the other day. It said,

"Now that you are approaching 80 you are entitled to a higher amount of state pension.  Age Addition of 25p per week will be payable from your 80th birthday.  If you think the decision is wrong, please get in touch with us by telephone or in writing within one month of the date of this letter........"

It goes on at some length about the appeal procedure and what to do if you want to take it further, which looks pretty complicated and may simply be designed to deter malcontent octogenarians form going down that road.

Anyway, a little research has revealed that this `bonus` has been frozen at  25p ever since it was introduced by the Heath Government in 1971 - all of 48 years ago.   It adds up to £13 a year and if it had even kept pace with inflation it would now be worth £191 a year.   Not many lives will be changed by that I fear.

Now I really don`t want to appear ungrateful - after all, every little helps to us elderly pensioners struggling to survive on a fixed income - but we are a bit limited as to what we can spend the 25p on - a packet of paracetamol, a small roll of sellotape, a small packet of tissues. a Cadburys Freddo - but if you set that against the cost to HM Gov. of sending out the letters, maintaining the computer programme, dealing with the appeals procedure (never mind the complaints and senior grumbles) it really does make me wonder whether it`s all worth it.

There`s a collection box up the shop on the lookout for donations to good causes.  Maybe I`ll splash out by popping £1 in each month. I`m all heart!!

THE ART OF SILENCE...

To Maidstone Hospital for an X-Ray on a dodgy knee which has been suffering from the wear and tear of decades of football, cricket, golf, coast path walking, dog walking and refereeing and now needs a bit of attention.  

Not for the first time I was impressed by Maidstone Hospital - it seems to be pretty efficient and the reception staff are all very helpful.  I was directed to the right bit, checked in and took a seat in the waiting area which was pretty crowded.   I was told I might have to wait for 45 minutes or so before being `seen to.` Fair enough, so I settled in.

Now there was a time when, in situations like that, people would start a conversation - about the weather, the news of the day, comparing ailments -  anything really to break the ice cold silence to help while away the waiting time.  But as I sat down I noticed that just about all the others there seemed to be glued to their mobile phones, tapping away, eyes down, looking in. 

And it occurred to me that rather than any attempt at ice breaking or, less still, polite conversation, silence itself seemed to have been raised to an art form.   Either that or I had been directed to the wrong department after all.   Oh, and those who were walking about seemed incapable of doing so without the comfort of holding on to a cardboard Costa coffee container or a bottle of water..   All very strange.  It will be interesting to see what the X-ray reveals.

As you see, I am indeed proceeding with caution as I might be about to step into dangerous territory.   OK, I`m old school, old fashioned, out of time and being an elderly pensioner struggling to survive on a fixed income in harsh economic times,  I admit to being a bit lost, bewildered even, in what seems to be an increasingly Orwellian world.

And the latest reason for my bewilderment stems from a couple of reports in the last day or so concerning the teaching of `equality` in primary school classrooms -  there has been a lot of fuss about it in Birmingham - but today`s example comes from a primary school here in Kent.  Now a few posts back, I had a go at the teaching of health and safety issues and `relationships` to very young primary school children and compared their education with my own 70 years or so ago.   I ended up with the plea that children should just be allowed to be children, like me and my school chums were all those years ago.

Now we learn that today`s youngsters are having lessons about gay, lesbian, transgender and bisexuality and that it is perfectly normal for some children to have two `Dads` or two `Mums` and that however people may be as individuals they should all be respected and treated equally.

I don`t have a problem with that, however much I may be saddened by the loss of childhood innocence, but if that is the way children as young as seven are being taught then surely their tuition might also include the fact that straightness still exists as does the notion of having a Mum and a Dad?  If you take today`s school experience to its logical exclusion then I can see the day when everything else will be `the norm` except heterosexuality and that those who practice it will be having their own pride marches. 

I hope it`s not too late to redress the balance, to let precious childhood be just that, or for me to take a precautionary step backwards before the Thought Police come knocking on my door.