The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

So here I am in Singapore, desperate for something to eat when behold … I come across this thriving metropolis. OK, so it is pretty early to eat lunch, but this is almost 'ghost town' quiet.

My question is should I or should I not eat here? Go on, tell me what's the thought process you go through when choosing whether to eat at a venue or not.

Here is a female product – it is to keep 'down there' fresh.  Ignoring the fact that buying such a product would probably be pretty embarassing for the individual, they then call it VAGISILL almost as if they want everyone in the shop to know what ailment they are suffering from.  Hell, why don't they go the whole hog and call it 'Smelly Minge Go!?' For some reason, medicinal products [of which I am hoping to God this is one] have a strange habit of being almost brutal in their naming strategies.  There's no warmth or charm – just down right cold functionality.  Why?

Saying that, they are not the only ones …

The Aussie Government recently did a campaign promoting the capabilities of people with physical disabilities.  They highlighted how they are an equal member of society and should be treated as such.  What a shame that the Government drive them round cities in a bright yellow bus with the word 'SPASTIC' written in big, black letters all along the side.

As much as humans operate by compartmentalising – surely someone somewhere understands that a name, however 'true' to the product benefit, should in some way actually appeal to the consumer, either interms of representing an attitude they aspire to, or – as in the case of Vagisill – a name they don't want associated with anything.

Go back in time …Before the Internet or the Apple Mac. Before semi-automatics, joy-riders and crack. Before SEGA or Super Nintendo … way, way back …

I'm talking about Hide and Seek in the park. The corner shop. Hopscotch. Butterscotch. Skipping. Handstands. Football with an old can. Fingerbobs. The Beano, Dandy, Buster, Twinkle and Dennis the Menace. Roly Poly. Hula Hoops, jumping the stream, building dams. The smell of the sun and fresh cut grass. Bazooka Joe bubble gum. An ice cream cone on a warm summer night from the van that plays a tune – chocolate or vanilla or strawberry or maybe Neapolitan or perhaps a screwball.

Wait, I haven't finished yet …

Watching Saturday morning cartoons … short commercials, The Double Deckers, Road Runner, He-Man, Zeebedee, Tiswas or Swapshop?, Why Don't You? – or staying up for Doctor Who.

When around the corner seemed far away and going into town seemed like going somewhere. Earwigs, wasps, stinging nettles and bee stings. Sticky fingers. Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, and Zorro.

Climbing trees. Walking to school … no matter what the weather. Running till you were out of breath, laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Jumping on the bed. Pillow fights. Spinning around … getting dizzy then falling down in a fit of giggles. The worst embarrassment being picked last for a team.

Water balloons were the ultimate weapon, football cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle. Choppers and Grifters. Eating raw jelly. Orange squash ice-pops.

Remember when there were two types of trainers – girls and boys, and Dunlop Green Flash, and the only time you wore them at school was for P.E. It wasn't odd to have two or three ‘best’ friends. You didn't sleep a wink on Christmas Eve.

When nobody owned a pure-bred dog. When 25p was decent pocket money. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny. When nearly everyone's mum was at home when the kids got there. It was magic when dad would ‘remove’ his thumb.

When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. You knew everyone in your street – and so did your parents. When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it.

When being sent to the head's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs etc. parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! – and some of us are still afraid of them!

Remember when decisions were made by 'Paper, Scissors, Stone' when 'race issues’ meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly. The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was germs. And the worst thing in your day was having to sit next to one.

It was unbelievable that 'British Bulldog ' wasn't an Olympic event. Having a weapon in school, meant being caught with a catapult. Nobody was prettier than Mum. Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better. Taking drugs meant orange-flavoured chewable aspirin. Ice cream was considered a basic food group.

Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true & older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercest protectors …

If you can remember most or all of these things, only then can you claim to have LIVED.

This is a blog from some other site but it raises some interesting points … especially from a Western perspective.

There is a quiet revolution taking place in some academic circles. It seems as if people have finally woken up to the fact that as employees, we're being driven harder and harder in less satisfying jobs.

Now an anti-work-ethic is springing up. As Corrine Maier, a senior economist at Electricite de France  has noticed in her book 'Hello Laziness', we work to breaking point, doing pointless tasks in pointless roles where you can be replaced at ANY given time. She states that the work we are doing is largely pointless so maybe we should do as little as possible.

Let's face it, most of us are never gonig to be rich … most of us are in debt, so why not just enjoy the time we have rather than devote our lives to an employer who doesn't give a damn about us. You can't be an employee … nowadays you've got to be a 'dynamic team player', 'a self motivated induvidual' a 'giver of excellent client focus' and it's all rubbish so as far as I am concerned, it seems as if the slackers had it right all along.