CM May 2020

SOAPBOX
Roll Up
A tale of toilet rolls, the 4x4 middle classes, and
words of wisdom from a senior Fellow.
AUTHOR – Glen Bullivant FCICM
Glen Bullivant FCICM
I
always read this magazine from cover
to cover and there were two worthy
candidates for the ‘Monthly Words of
Wisdom Awards’ in the March issue.
The first was the editorial by
Sean Feast. (It should be said here
and now, by the way, that in the grumpy old
man stakes, he is at this time nowt but an
apprentice, with a number of years intensive
training still to undergo before graduating
into the hallowed arena of yours truly and
Arthur Smith.)
I take exception to being told by everyone
under the age of 25 that I am totally to blame
for the rise in sea levels, or Storm Jorge (trust
the Spanish Met Office to come up with a
name that nobody outside Madrid could
pronounce correctly). As the Iron Lady once
said in the Parliamentary Zoo Enclosure – No!
No! No! My generation had milk delivered to
the doorstep in reusable glass bottles, shops
used brown carrier bags with string handles,
and the weekly groceries came to the door
courtesy of Granville on a bicycle. Even the
supermarket kept large cardboard boxes by
the checkouts.
Walking to school was the norm back then,
and when we threw the kids out at 08:00am,
we did not expect to see them back before
16.30, an even more important discipline to
be observed during the school holidays. The
temptation to move house during the day
and leave no forwarding address was almost
overpowering by September, let me tell you.
CARBON COPY
Of course, we are all to blame and the second
article in the March magazine was that by
Brian Murnane, of Carbon Action. Balanced,
sensible, realistic are words which spring to
mind – I often think that the calm and quiet
explanation of where we are and what we
need to do is far more effective than climbing
on top of a Tube train or blocking the doors
of the bank. We ordinary folk listen carefully
to the former and are inclined to dismiss the
latter as unnecessary sensationalism.
I am doing my bit though I will agree that
getting my West Yorkshire Metro bus pass at
60, together with a Senior Railcard does put
me at an advantage. I do have a car – one
which reflects my personality (old, rusty
and with moving parts perhaps no longer
as efficient as they once were), but when I
filled the tank with petrol this March,
I realised that the last time I filled the tank
was in October, 2019. Why on earth would I
want to drive to Leeds, Bradford, Manchester
or Liverpool when there are perfectly good
(ok, not perfect) public transport alternatives?
I walk into town – please note that legs were
made for walking, and not for pushing down
pedals – and remain capable of carrying
shopping, having two arms designed for the
task.
It is an irony on the carbon front, of
course, that we have all been overtaken
by the tragedy of Covid-19, with harmful
greenhouse gas emissions plunging like the
Stock Markets and the price of oil.
RED PEN
All of which leads me to the point where
your editor will take out his red pen and cut
swathes out of what I am going to say next
because here comes my angry rant of the
month.
In order to keep myself safer by way of
distancing, a couple of days ago, I used my
car to go shopping (hence filling the tank).
Orange juice, eggs, milk, bread and sugar
– not much but I had run out. I went to
Sainsbury’s and could not help but see that
it looked as if it had been ram-raided by
rampaging rhinos, with swarms of locusts
riding shotgun. I got what I needed there, left
the car in the supermarket car park, whilst
I nipped into Poundland for Smokey Bacon
crisps and Picnics on special offer. Their
shelves were well stocked and that is when I
realised something very fundamental.
The 4x4 middle classes, fully paid up
members of the anti-runway, anti-incinerator,
ban the ‘whatever the bomb that looks most
beastly’ brigade buy what they want rather
than need, at the expense of the poorer who
can only buy what they need rather than
want. Those on fixed incomes have always
shopped on pension day, or odds and ends
daily, and for those needing toilet rolls to
make the journey only to see double barrelled
named herberts driving off in their diesel
guzzlers loaded to the roof with enough toilet
rolls to wipe the backsides of the entire crew
of HMS Prince of Wales is disgraceful, to say
the least.
Simple solution – the first pack at shelf
price, the second pack double, the third pack
treble and so on, the excess revenue going to
the local food bank charity.
Glen Bullivant FCICM is as old as he looks.
(The editor wishes to remind readers that the
views of contributors are entirely their own.)
Advancing the credit profession / www.cicm.com / May 2020 / PAGE 39