On St George’s Day I woke up to the good news that Gordon wants us all to do a bit of flag waving for our patron saint. Usually the only time you see large scale waving of the red on white St George’s cross, is during the World Cup – you can’t get away from it then, hanging from every other house and fluttering out of car windows. I’m all in favour of reclaiming the flag from unruly football fans but I think Gordon could do more. Doesn’t St George deserve a public holiday? Or more accurately – because how much use is a day off to a long-dead saint – don’t we?
I’ve dutifully signed the online petition and am waiting to see if online petitions ever get you anywhere. Still waiting… Cynics may reasonably argue that backing St George’s Day as a Bank Holiday has little to do with national pride and more to do with getting an extra day out of the office. And they’d be mostly right. But there’s a bit more to it than that. It’s also about pondering what it means to be English at a time when we’re not sure what that really it’s all about. Importantly, it’s also an excuse for a jolly old knees-up – something the English are very good at.
Like most English people (well, I’m half English but who’s counting) I’m not usually one to celebrate the old Turkish dragon slayer – more of us mark Guy Fawkes than St George’s Day, apparently. But, in the interests of research, I went along to the mayor-backed celebration of Englishness in London’s Trafalgar Square, a tasty showing from traders more usually found at London’s larder, Borough Market.
Looking like it’d be a wash-out (very English), I set out with an umbrella (English too) only to discover it turned out nice again (even more English). Among the very English entertainment were nattering old ladies brewing tea, green grocers selling books by the pound (lb not £) and a giant compost heap, all over-looked by an ice cream van. Best of all were two men in bow ties, centre stage, doing a hilarious musical recital which included very un-PC lyrics about blowing up aeroplanes with bottles of Evian. Brilliant. If having St George’s as a day off means we can do more of this kind of thing then I’m signing up right now.
I couldn’t help noticing, with a wry smile, how few people visiting the market – aside from the traders - who were actually sporting any kind of St George’s cross – I counted three. Mainly they were baffled tourists queuing up for a bit of food. So it seems there’s more raising awareness work to be done.
In a bid to beef up George’s profile – bet Boris wishes he had this PR machine behind him – English Heritage has waded in on the subject, producing a ‘Top Celebration Tips’ guide to the saint’s day. Dragon chasing, eating very English food – try chicken tikka masala – and downing essentially English drinks – lashings of ginger beer or a good old fashioned pint – are among the recommended ways to celebrate. It sounds as incongruous as the Famous Five having an awfully exciting adventure slaying fire breathing mystical creatures on Brick Lane. But the fun doesn’t stop there, English Heritage has even commissioned an ‘Ode to St George’. ‘The True Dragon’, a kind of ‘Jerusalem’ for today, with its wistful pondering on ‘England’s valley full of light’, brings a patriotic tear to the eye. Oh go on Gordon, you’re a Scot, you must understand how much we need a day off for Eng-er-land.
Handbags at Dawn
It’s been a tough few weeks for BAA, not to mention the unfortunate holidaymakers who thought they’d be jetting off from Heathrow’s shiny new Terminal 5. As we mentioned last month, it’s always been a controversial project with green protestors and people from Hounslow (living under the flight path) but add 28,000 misplaced bags and Naomi Campbell throwing a strop in first class and you’ve got, well, utter chaos really.
Brucie Bonus!
Ah, the Palladium and Bruce Forsyth. It’s like the Globe and Shakespeare, Buckingham Palace and the Queen, Ken and City Hall…it was definitely “nice to see” him back at the theatre where he became a household name with ‘Sunday Night at the London Palladium’. This time, though, he was receiving a BAFTA – a Fellowship award, no less – following in the eminent footsteps of Morecambe and Wise and Charlie Chaplin and with Dame Judi smiling on. What a night for our Bruce!
Just a Plane Tree
We know this is Mayfair – London’s poshest postcode – but the fact that a tree has been valued at £750,000 puts the predicted property crash in perspective. The plane has stood in Berkeley Square since Victorian times and it’s very nice and all but maybe using the capital asset value for amenity trees system is going a little too far… Still, we don’t want those nightingales to stop singing!
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