Wednesday Whinge: It's still Wednesday
Published by Anonymous for 24dash.com in Housing
Brian Church writes:
Deadlines annoy me, they always have. I thought years ago when I came to the slower moving housing sector that things would get better but they haven’t.
Now people, including lippy messiah @nickatkin_hht and sector twit @MaxSalsbury24, are complaining about my 'Wednesday Whinge' being late. Are they being ironic or what? Can I make one thing clear? 'WW' is where I whinge about you lot, not you about me.
And I can’t believe I’m being hurried up by my countryside colleague Max who, on his first non-court supervised trip outside Hereford last week, was stopping to take pictures of Manchester traffic lights. He’d never seen them before. We’re all very proud of him for trying to learn the order. Keep going Max!
By the way, I don’t mean it as an insult when I call the housing sector comparatively 'slow', I actually rather admire it. True, it was a life-changing revelation to me that entire buildings had scores of highly paid people inside who were all pretending to work. I don’t blame them. I’d be exactly the same if nothing had to be sorted that morning, or even century in some cases.
As for those who still come into their office Monday morning armed with a triple shot espresso and classy donuts, and then proceed to send out all their month’s press releases in one go, I WORSHIP you. And you know who you are. The record is eight in 10 minutes. Helpful hint to PR newcomers: Between us, one release at a time is awfully kind.
End of long preamble. While I think having Wednesday Whinge on a Thursday would be quite cool, I admit that’s probably my background from writing a 'Church on Sunday' column in Greece on a – Max, put down your 'My First Traffic Light Book' and have a guess – yes, well done, Sunday, and then on a Friday for the weekly edition.
Even the word 'deadline' annoys me. That’s strange as I already know what LINE I want when I’m DEAD (Max, see what I did there?). I decided my obit years ago when life had just totally cratered. I’ve told some of you before about the words I want on my gravestone: 'Dutiful son, loving husband, amazing mother.' Incidentally, if you do visit me, please also pay respects to Max next door whose stone will read: 'Collectively smothered to death by esteemed colleagues and hundreds of passing delegates at the Samaritan’s annual conference. Max did nothing in life. Absolutely nothing. No, really.' As for sector do-gooder @JonLand24, I’m not going to dignify a man who deliberately calls himself 'Jon' to save the expense of chiselling one measly 'h'. SHAME ON HIM! Or as Landy’s gravestone would say: SAME ON IM. (Quick note to HR: This is a satirical column, please do not call security.)
Deadlines annoy me because on a larger level they remind me I was born at the wrong time (1965) for two distressingly beautiful women in my life. If I was five years older in one case and five years younger in another, I’d now be one of the happiest bigamists in the UK. Mind you, we could all complain. Pop out that most naturally born leader of men, Nick Atkin, in 1920 and he would have had an amazing World War Two. Guaranteed Iron Cross in the first six months.
And now the whole point of the whinge (apart from don’t provoke me into writing in the evening ever again). Housing deadlines annoy me more than anything. They’re too vague.
I hear calls to end the housing crisis "in a generation". A generation! What the hell does that mean? Isn’t that 20+ years? I know the intent is deeply laudable but does it have to be so long term? Just get your bloody shovels out, we don’t need decades, there’s so much empty land. Herefordshire is totally empty for starters. You can drive for an hour and the only person you’ll see is Max staring at the "light in the ground" (yes RED, then amber, and green).
Even I recognise that getting rid of a life-long scourge needs time and the finest talents which, clowning aside, we definitely have. But I just can’t see Churchill in 1940 promising the British people "Victory by 1960" or Liverpool in 1992 pledging Premier League success by 2012 (well, actually…).
A generation is for many a lifetime away and that’s too long a deadline. Because some of us will have ‘moved on’ by then. By the way, it’s 11.51pm and still Wednesday. Get in!
pw (post whinge)
I genuinely like the people in this sector and none of my remarks are in any way to be taken personally or seriously with the exception of every comment about Atkin and Salsbury.
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