SEE IT, SAY IT, SOD IT

It’s not very good is it. I mean, how many people go "Wow, yes, I now feel empowered to play my part in keeping Britain’s railways safe". And how many people just go "it’s not very good is it"?

Which isn't what you'd expect from the railways. That pioneering force. That great British engine of social and cultural change. A hundred years ago the railways were busy changing the world, connecting our towns and cities, giving us all a way to get to work, and something to complain about when we got there. Before the railways we didn't even share the same time zone. And there was no WHSmith. And now what do they give us? Sloppy slogans and nonsensical announcements.

For example, when did it become necessary to remind us what a station does by putting the word 'stop' after it? And since when did things start 'arriving into' them? And how long has it been possible for something to be 'formed from' eight carriages. You'd think an organisation that spends all its time going to and from places would be on top of its propositions.

IN THE ARMPITS OF GIANTS

The guy next to me is huge. I mean really huge. I know I shouldn't - it's probably not his fault, and even if it is why shouldn't he be huge if he wants to be - but I'm thinking evil thoughts. Such is my state of compression that I'm not going to be able to do anything useful with either of my arms. And I have a proposal to write. And even if I hadn't, I'm feeling my consumer rights have been violated. I mean, should easyJet have sold me seat 10F if it's already spoken for by the right hand side of the guy in 10E? 

But what can I do? If he was steaming drunk or a screaming child I could complain and perhaps be moved to another seat. But he's not. It's not about what he's doing, it's about what he is. Big.

MIND THE GAP

Today as I boarded a tube train I was warned to "mind the gap". Twice. And then, more specifically, to "mind the gap between the platform and the train". So I took a proper look at the gap for perhaps the first time in my life. And found it to be around 2.5 inches wide. Which left me wondering what danger such a gap could represent. Later at the airport I traversed a gap at least half an inch wider between the top of some stairs and an aeroplane. And no one said a word.

Is it because, when it comes to flying, falling fifteen feet through a 3 inch gap onto concrete is the least of your worries? Or does EasyJet just not care? Or can London Underground just not help itself trotting out the same old gap thing because it’s what it’s always done, and if it didn’t the tourists would complain? Even though no one really knows what they’re minding, and what it means to mind it.

But given the number of times it gets a mention, we can only assume the gap is insanely dangerous. So it seems strange not to be given more detail. 

1 DAY , 2 FLIGHTS , 5 SHIT EXCUSES

07.55: Shit Excuse No. 1

The pilot’s taking on that smug 'aren’t I a star' tone of voice because he’s flown us to Stansted airport ten minutes quicker than he had to. You hear it first somewhere over Norfolk when he says "Cabin Crew prepare the cabin for arrival," with a slight lilt and rising intonation that actually says 'this really is a piece of piss you know.' By the time he orders the crew to "disarm doors for arrival” the smugness has blossomed into a full blown 'God, I’m good at this. Sometimes I surprise even myself.' 

But his next announcement is a little less triumphal. It transpires that, although he’s really rather fine, some of the people with whom he is forced to associate have failed to live up to his standards. Big time. The ground crew have been taken totally by surprise by his over performance, and are still trying to find a set of steps to get us off. So, through no fault of his own, we’re stuck, and the extra time generated by his flying prowess gradually wastes away as we stand in a line waiting with our coats on. All of which prompts a number of questions: