December 4th, 2008

MH - shoulder - J/Y

The Yoof Problem.

A while ago, the Assistant Director here at Legal was doing the rounds of our team meetings in order to drive home the five 'goals' of Children's Services, during which she mentioned that the overall goal was - obviously - to protect children. She mentioned that we needed to try and dispell the myth that children are 'the enemy'. Young people in the 21st century are seen as this feral, uncontrollable, criminal force. It's not right that we should feel nervous around a group of 12 year olds, but the sad fact is that we feel as threatened by 12 year olds hanging around on street corners as we do by adult gangs. The sadder fact is that such children feel obviously threatened by each other, if the spate of teenage knife crim is anything to go by.

The AD is, of course, absolutely right. Children should NOT be seen as the enemy, because the local authorities (and, god forbid, their parents) should be working to protect them, educate them and give them the correct opportunities to become reasonable and productive members of society.

Thus far, this tactic appears to be failing horrendously. This morning, some horrible little chavvy oik of a teenage boy decided it would be utterly hilarious to come up behind me and knock my bus pass out of my hand into a puddle, as I was about to get on the bus. He let out a war cry (I wish I was joking), jumped in the air and then 'karate-chopped' my wrist, though all I could actually see was the blur of his white jacket. He was clearly showing off to his mates and looked old enough to know better. Initially I thought he'd bumped into me whilst running past, except upon looking down the road there was nobody running away, whereas there was a group of lads standing behind me looking very pleased with themselves.

Yeah. HILARIOUS. If I'd known for certain which one he was (they all look the same to me) I would have knocked his cap off his head. (Someone's done that to me on a bus before, too.) Except I wouldn't, because the last thing I want first thing in the morning is to get into some kind of pointless altercation with an immature brat trying to impress his equally immature and bratty friends. Taking the intellectual / adult highground doesn't really work against that kind of mentality.

Still, it's marginally better in Kings Heath than it was when I had to get the 11 to work and the 101 to town. There are only two schools on my bit of the 50, and one of them is KE Camp Hill. The other is Queensbridge, and they're both clear before Moseley so the kids are only on the bus for about three stops. On the 11 there were about four schools (George Dixon being one of them; oh, hurrah), and the 101 was a round tour of the worst bits of Hockley. I've had my fair share of horrible school-age children, thank you.

Perhaps, before we can educate children, we need to educate their parents. They're obviously getting it from somewhere...


In other news, I am feeling somewhat saner today. I appear to be moodswinging like WHOA lately, which I can only (I hope) attribute to pre-Christmas stress setting in. Paul and I filled in the diary last night in an attempt to organise the remainder of December, and it's going to be a case of fitting in various family members as and when there is space. Christmas falling mid-week is always a nightmare becuase there's half a week less than usual to cram everything into... or so it seems, anyway. I'm still convinced the days in December are actually shorter than any other time of year...

I still have far too much to do, obviously, but then, I always do. One of these years I'll start my Christmas preparation at least a month in advance...
Spuffy - with or without

Potentially the best talent show ever and you know it would be...

Firstly, I need to clarify something about my earlier post. According to Paul (who saw it happen and is therefore more objective), apparently the teenage boy this morning didn't deliberately hit me, he was running for the bus and fell off the raised blocks along the edge of the carpark which is next to the bus stop, thus hitting me in the process with his flailing arms. Still, though - an apology wouldn't have gone amiss?

I really came here to post this piece of randomness from earlier. After watching Buzzcocks and 30 seconds of I'm A Celebrity... and discussing reality TV, the following talent show idea came to maniacal fruition.

Here's the thing. Brian Blessed is quite possibly the greatest random celebrity wotsit since sliced bread, and when the inevitable happens in a few decades and the earth is no longer graced by Mr Blessed's presence, it will be a sad, sad loss indeed. It is therefore imperative that the world finds a replacement to take his place. The best way to find such a person? Well, a TALENT SHOW, of course.

It would be called "Hullo, I'm Brian Blessed!" (obviously), where hopeful candidates would audition in a manner not dissimilar to X-Factor in order to win the ultimate accolade of replacing (nay, becoming!) Brian Blessed should the unspeakable happen. It would be presented by the man himself.

I didn't decide who the judges would be because the image of Brian Blessed presenting anything is enough to send me into hysterics. (Have I Got News For You, anyone?)

I shall pitch this idea to Channel 4 immediately. :D

Any suggestions on who should judge it? I was thinking Stephen Fry and Graham Norton for a start, but that's just the fangirl talking...