“Offer the lazy an egg and they’ll want you to peel it for them.”
Lithuanian Proverb
Nowadays I get more invites to funerals than parties. Out comes the suit as we meet at the same awkward spot on the same car-park, the only variants the weather and the guest of honour.
Last week it was Dennis, father of three old teammates. Looking around we had enough to put out a pretty good team, failing bodies ignored and a good dose of imagination as our opening bowler would be seventy-eight.
Dennis had enjoyed a rich life so he probably bypassed eavesdropping on our shared groans as we congregated in the bar. Dads bemoaned sons not interested in following in the same sporting boots; mums offered the working week as a reason for not wanting to go near a cricket field.
Saturday nights are now torture by Strictly and X-Factor rather than a full club, shared tales of magnificent wins or crushing defeats, soothed by a beer. There’s always next week!
Life changes and mostly for the better but consider the stories contained in Working Lives.
The book tells of the working class post World War Two and is an illuminating insight into a world when young Dennis would have been marking his mark.
What we understand of austerity and poverty pales in comparison. And yet, despite smog bound cities, dominated by Big Industry offering dangerous and dirty work, the numerous contributors are united in their love of these times.
The overriding theme is one of community, often bound by a major industry which areas would be associated with for generations. Think Manchester, think cotton; Bradford and it was wool; for Sheffield read steel; whilst much of the North East was characterised by ship building.
The list is endless for back in the 1950s over 70% of jobs were in manufacturing. Not only did these industries bring full employment but they also enriched local communities with sports and social clubs.
These days we complain of long hours and stress but imagine having to walk to work every day, do a shift and walk back, a cold tin bath and lukewarm water your reward?
The working life was a home cooked meal, a quick wash and then invariably to the local for a few. There were numerous cinemas and dance halls; nowadays we slump in front of a bounty of channels offering a paucity of choice.
Kids played outside, free to roam and learn; maybe one day they would get to play for the work’s team? Think of the marvellous sports facilities just in Bradford that have been lost.
There was Crofts, Grattan, Hepolite, International Harvesters and Negas to name a few; small wonder sport thrived and obesity was rarely mentioned.
Of course, numerous aspects of life have improved; life expectancy itself is much higher but have we really improved the quality of life?
Consider this latest piece on the BBC website regarding a surge in junk food outlets as another reminder of how life as we know it is a road to nowhere for many.
UK high streets have the highest concentration of fast food outlets in almost a decade…in most areas the number of takeaways per 100,000 people was at its highest since 2010…people most exposed…are nearly twice as likely to be obese.
In Bradford 180 takeaways were open for businesses in 2010, but eight years later the number has gone up rapidly to 420, with some of them opening next door to each other – see here – the second largest increase in the country.
Joe from Rotherham, having reduced his weight from a staggering thirty stone – aged sixteen – to twelve stone cited not having time to cook as a reason for ordering a takeaway which is symptomatic of our excuse culture.
In the time it takes to decide, order and await delivery of steaming crap in a carton surely any idiot can cook something?
He even quoted not having time for breakfast but still having time to pick one up! How long does it take to pour a bowl of cereal?
Most worrying though – and credit to him for tackling his weight – was his perception that takeaway food is cheap. This is the biggest fallacy about crap in a box and more of the excuse culture.
Look back to what people survived on in the 1950s and compare to the vast array of supermarkets today offering a huge range of cheap food and the lie is easily exposed.
The direct costs to the NHS of obesity are forecast to rise from circa £6bn to around £10bn by 2050. The wider costs to society are estimated at a gut busting £50bn by then.
Will we wax lyrical about the times we live in?
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