Thursday, 10 December 2009

More Waugh

Some more from Auberon Waugh's diaries.

Same day, different years. First, hard times - read carefully as they may return:
December 10, 1976
VALERIE JENKINS writes a thoughtful piece in today's Evening Standard about how she survives in Healey's Britain. She still manages to have meat and butter once a week, she says, but vegetables and potatoes have priced themselves beyond her reach, and for the rest of the time she makes do with fish-heads given her free by "our excellent fishmonger".
If she tells me the name of this fishmonger, I will introduce her to my lapidary in Manette Street who sells delightful pebbles of polished onyx, agate and chalcedony for holding in the mouth and sucking while the pangs of hunger last.
My family has had no meat for two months. I spend my time with a spade, searching gardens and woods around the house for any bones that dogs may have buried during 20 years of affluence, before the government of this country decided to subsidise New Review and suchlike projects.
For Christmas this year we are keeping aside some tins of Kit-e-Kat - very nourishing with dandelion salad. I would have preferred Kattomeat, but only the very rich can afford Kattomeat nowadays.

But the crazy whirligig will turn soon enough and we'll welcome back the problems of affluence:
December 10, 1982
MORE HORROR stories about the treatment of old people. A gang of thieves in St Albans has been giving them drugged tea and then robbing them while they slept. Or so it is claimed.
The reason why old people are at risk nowadays is that they are so rich. When their pension was only a few shillings a week, everybody left them alone. Now they are to be seen hobbling away from the Post Office every Monday morning carrying great fistfuls of £5 and £10 notes, even my fingers begin to twitch.
Something must obviously be done about this epidemic of granny bashing, and the first thing is for the Government to stop giving them so much money.

1 comment:

Gadjo Dilo said...

I confess I find it difficult to know where commentary ends and satire takes over! "...Post Office every Monday morning", they'd be lucky, these days. Whiskas is the cat food of choice for the discerning OAP.