What does wearing a poppy mean to you ?

For most of us, the answer is pretty straight forward. It is a simple act of remembrance for those who have given their lives, fighting for their country. It also helps to raise money and awareness for the British Legion.

For others, it might mean that they wear one because they feel they have to and are afraid of what might be said about them if they don’t. Newsreaders and other TV presenters tend to sport theirs for a good few weeks and with the exception of a couple who don’t wear one to make some kind of personal statement, everyone on screen has one. Whether or not those behind the cameras, along with anyone else out of public view wear one, we’ve no way of knowing, but surely if someone, for whatever reason, decides not to wear one, then that is up to them? It doesn’t guarantee them to be a bad or uncharitable person.

I buy one because I chose to and see wearing one as my way of saying I appreciate what others have done to keep this country the free, fair and (relatively) peaceful place it is today. I don’t go the whole hog and sit through the various programmes on Remembrance Sunday itself, where BBC announcers, with undertaker sounding voices, commentate on miserable looking politicians and members of the Royal Family laying wreathes at The Cenotaph, as by then I feel I have already done my bit.

By that I mean that while I could have chosen to have worn last year’s poppy (found for some strange reason atop the microwave in the kitchen) and walked past all the tin rattling Legionnaires, who have stood for hours in the autumn wind, with a kind of "I’ve already given" type expression on my face, I made a point of buying another.

I also made sure, as I try and do every year, that I bought a poppy from one of the British Legion volunteers. I know it might not sound much, but to me it helps show that while I’ve no desire to join up myself and risk life and limb for my country, I take my hat off to those who do.

Ok, hardly anyone wears a hat anymore, but you know what I mean……

The Road To Hell

Cars are great aren't they, but like pretty much everything in life, you can have too much of a good thing and we’re not doing ourselves, let alone future generations, any favours by carrying on the way we are. Very easy to say, but what can we do to reign in the masses when they just want to get home as fast as possible? The Chancellor can put petrol and road tax up as much as he likes, just like he puts up booze and fags. Has this stopped anyone spending their hard earned cash drinking and smoking themselves to death, if that’s what they really want to do? No it hasn't and cars are no different either.

When it comes to the car debate, I have to put my cards on the table and say I have one. Not only that, I’ve no plans on getting rid of it anytime soon, even though somebody did once say to me "why on earth do you need a car when there’s the number 7 bus?". I’m not sure what the attraction is in going from George Street to the Marina and back all day and surely the whole point of having a car is so you can go off the bus route now and then. They’re also good for taking old mattresses to the tip, lugging home more than two carrier bags worth of shopping and giving lifts to tree huggers who have cottoned on to the fact that they can’t get everywhere powered by their own sense of self importance.

Cars will always get it in the neck, partly because their owners are an easy target. Many would say that they don’t have much choice but to use their motor on a daily basis and the fact that it might cost someone over £60 to fill up an average sized family car, isn’t going to change that.

From the air, during rush hour, we must look like a long line of depressed, slow moving multicoloured ants. We must be crazy, but we do it largely because there seems no viable alternative. For this to change there needs to be a radical shift in peoples’ approach to their everyday lives. It also needs to be an approach that keeps their outgoings the same or less and gets them to work on time.

Cars aren’t going anywhere. Literally!

As published in the 9th November 2007 edition of The Kemptown Rag