At last, the UK’s drought has come to and end (with a vengeance in some areas) although not in time to stop much of the country experiencing hosepipe bans which are still ongoing.
Who in the UK recalls the nineteen seventies? Drought, inflation, widespread industrial action, and the Cold War. Sound familiar?
I had one of those badges pictured up there. (In fact I think that one was from the sixties.) Those scheduled power cuts to cope with the coal strike were a good way to conserve power. Who knew we were being ecologically sound?
If things get as bad as media hysteria suggests, I could organise my own home power rationing to keep down the bills.
Back in the seventies, I hardly noticed. I was young and too busy to take much notice of news bulletins. We didn’t have a TV back then anyway.
Back then I was distracted by a new career, getting married and budgeting for a mortgage we couldn’t afford. Our family didn’t arrive till the end of that decade, by which time power rationing was a memory and our mortgage interest had further increased.
Continuing to work with a baby wasn’t a serious option back then, and hubby was earning less than the salary I was giving up. Maternity leave didn’t exist. Maternity grants were new. A second, reduced, one-off payment was available for those who produced offspring number two within two years. We missed out by a couple of months 😦
For three decades, our holidays were a tent in the UK, apart from those few years when my father paid our air fares to stay with him in Malta.
We didn’t have a TV through the seventies and well into the eighties. Even so, I don’t recall the newspapers and radio bulletins making the song and dance the media is making now of the cost of living.
For some time now, our TV reports seem unable to deal with more than one issue at a time. It started with Covid, which is, perhaps, understandable. Although I didn’t find the daily recitation of infection and mortality figures helpful without comparisons. (I certainly wasn’t writing them down to compare with tomorrow’s.)
Then there was so-called (by the media) Partygate filling every news bulletin, on and on and on until we were all sick of the repetition. But by then UK news bulletins seemed incapable of getting out of whatever groove they were in. Did the premiership battle justify daily, exhaustive coverage? Even the members of the Party who would be deciding on the result must have had enough by the time they cast their votes.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was, again, fair enough… And then there was the drought. (Well, we British do like to talk about the weather.)
Now every day’s newscast trots out yet another interview (or two, or three…) with someone bemoaning food prices and dreading higher power costs. While I don’t doubt such fears are real, this isn’t news. It is repetition.
It is almost a relief to have such “news” supplanted by preparation for the Queen’s funeral. Although, again, single-issue, just imagining the media hounds straining at the leash to get back to hounding once the period of mourning is over renders the repetition almost welcome.
Meanwhile, fire, flood, famine, war and rumours of war jostle for a late mention along with the latest shooting, knifing, NHS failure, or celebrity squabble.
Repeating yesterday’s bulletin is never going to be “news”.
The clue is in the name.
What’s your pet newsreel hate?
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