From Our Church Mag – Nov

Einstein a go go

If anyone can tell me what my worst gaffe ever was in last month’s magazine, you’ll make me a happy man. Not because I derive any perverse delight from being found out, but because it will demonstrate that I still have some readers left. After I spotted what I had done, I had serious thoughts about hanging up my aging word processor and trying something else that will be less reliant on my ability to remember to …… just a minute, if I finish that sentence, I’ll give the answer away. You won’t get me that easily. Find out for yourselves.

I’ve been writing this column for around six and a half years now and it has occurred to me that I’ll run out of stuff to complain about. If only the clergy would do something silly that I could report on. What are they teaching these modern vicars now? Time was when you rely on them to be bumbling but harmless. But now they wear trendy short sleeve shirts and grow goatees.


Recently, Julian told me to behave myself at a men’s breakfast I shared with him, Colin and Mark. My retort was since when have I allowed the fear the cloth to put the fear of the cloth into me? Or similar. I’m not big on those sorts of details. Word for word minutiae of commuting skirmishes, yes, but what I say to the collars, no.

He did remark later that he expected I’d put something about the exchange in the magazine. No, I lied. I’ve just been biding my time for when I was desperate for material.

An interesting point though, which I wonder if he, Colin and Mark noticed, is that I was at the table first and the three of them joined me, not the other way round. Ha ha! Stick that in your hassock and do whatever it is you do with objects you put in your hassock.


Recycling. How much does it save us off our council tax bill? The bill still goes up every year, despite government caps, but if they cannot tell us in their annual blurb just how much cheaper what we pay for road repairs and street lights is, then it cannot be that much. In which case, why bother recycling? It all ends up in landfill sites in Hong Kong anyway if you believe the television expose. (There should be an accent over that final e, but I can’t be bothered finding the character. Besides, if we’d been meant to speak with accents, we’d have been born up north.)

Assuming though, like me, you like to do your bit for the environment all the same, do you rinse out plastic milk cartons like they ask? I don’t and this is why. Eventually we’ll all be on water meters, so we’ll be paying for the old aitch two oh by the centimetre. When that is the case, we’ll be paying to clean recycling items, thus spending our hard won rebates from council tax for recycling by being responsible recyclers. Me? Civil disobedience is my middle name. Besides, when they burn all that plastic, any remaining milk will go up with it, so as I see it, I’m saving myself money and preserving precious water to boot.


What about junk mail? What do you do with that? Recycle it? Not me. I put it back in the postbox marked return to sender. I didn’t ask for it, so if the Royal Mail accepted some corporate’s money to push it through my door, they can flippin well take it back from whence it came. As I see it, it’s all about saving council tax. Because some of you may take heed of my earlier suggestion that recycling does not produce any monetary benefit to us by way of less expensive municipal services and throw junk mail in the rubbish bin instead, some councils are still

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