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Redhead bought a new fan a few days ago. One of those tall slim ones that hum away in the background and don't blow your wool off if you are Shaun the Sheep. As always these days, it came in flatpack, and, in the absence of her late husband, it fell to the young neighbour to put the bits together.

I have a love hate relationship with flatpack. I hate putting it together and love it when someone else does the assembly. 

Unfortunately, Redhead lost her husband to the alternate patriot realm some years ago and has had to muck on and mend without the bloke who used to do the things around the house before flatpack was invented.

But when it came to flatpack, my late father was as useless as well " tits on a bull. "

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I can attest to it with great authority. My late Dad once " helped " me in assembling flatpack. He kept telling me to just be quiet and let him do his job. I did. 

The doors on the cabinets were wonky; they all leaned to the left and shuddered when anyone walked in their vicinity. In short, my Dad was a great Patriot and incredible father - but hopeless at assembling furniture.

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Getting back to Redhead's fan: Dad was not able to assemble the aforementioned piece of kit, My brother cannot be here to do what he would normally do ( though he inherited the wonky gene from Dad so he probably would have been bloody hopeless as well ) so it came to a neighbour to help a damsel in distress.

He came. He assembled, and Redhead " helped. "

As she always did when my father was alive, she offered suggestions and helpful hints while " Josh " the neighbour assured her that he was doing fine and if she could just let him get on with it, all would be well.

It always makes me think of a sign in a local garage decades ago : $40 an hour if you help. $30 an hour if you don't.

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Josh built and assembled the fan. It leans to the left and looks quite wonky and, well, pretty crappy. Just like Dad would have done.

And that was the problem: 

I reckon that Dad was whispering in Josh's left ear and Mum was in his right ear. Poor bugger had no hope.

Which got me to thinking about the world today.

We have someone whispering in one ear,  someone in another and all we get is a wonky world. 

So many cooks in the kitchen. So many advisors and people all trying to help build the fan that will be our future.

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Poor Josh, the average  bloke from around the world, trying to do his bit, is somehow buggered because he has too many cooks in the kitchen. 

We have armchair experts telling us to mask up, lock down, be quiet, do as we are told. The average bloke just wants to build his life, free from the barrage of helpful suggestions and dodgy instruction manuals. 

If all of the armchair experts that Monty referred to the other day just got out of the way and let the Joshs of the world get on with building our world, maybe it wouldn't be so wonky?

With all this talk of a global reset, is this not turning our world in to a flatpack? 

Who do you want in charge of assembling the most important flat pack in history? 

Redhead? My late father? or trusty Josh. The average citizen. The guy who can build things and get things done as long as he is left alone to do it. 

I am backing trusty Josh but we have to stop " helping " him and let him get on with the job. 

Otherwise, it will end up being the flat pack from hell.

nwo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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