Back to the public, sorry. I spent half an hour on Gillingham Hight Street this morning, Mrs jogills seeking essential supply of logic puzzle books. That high street will not die unless someone shoots it, lots of people about of all ages behaving politely and doing their best to observe social distancing. I should have been cheered but it had the opposite effect on me. If that is the forseeable future then it's a desperate one and that's before the money, individual and collective, runs out. One or two shops have gone already and heaven knows how many jobs will survive the winter.
I think the public, if we are to judge them as one entity, are pretty good in the main. They have done significantly better than their leaders to date. There are many living in multiple occupation and poorly adapted flats, with no outside space, no savings, perhaps no access to a car and the imminent prospect of homelessness. If we are in the business of trashing our own at this stage in the game then I wonder what happens when teenagers have been out of school for six months and more adults feel they have nothing to lose.
Glad that I retain the ability to get angry, which saves me from despair. The only shop with people hanging about inside? The bloody betting shop! I passed the taped off childrens' playground on Woodlands Road on the way home. Let the least healthy among us huddle in front of a screen losing their last pennies but for heavens sake stop the children playing outsde, WTF!.