Don’t mention the ‘T’ word . . .
In a week when America elected the new leader of the free world, my thoughts were with two other more interesting matters instead.
Yes, I’m sorry Mr Trump, but despite all your (ahem) ‘rhetoric’, you turned me off the US electoral process when you and Mrs Clinton descended into puerile name-calling and mud-slinging. At least when we do that in this country, we do it with grace, style – and plot behind closed doors. It’s the British way.
It was a particularly cold Monday in Bury St Edmunds and I needed a few items from Waitrose – I don’t venture far when Mr Winter comes knocking. What struck me as I left the store and the cold winds hurt my face once more, was the poppy seller. Seated, patient, unruffled, serene. I bought a couple of traditional poppies and a pin badge (well, we all have to evolve) and received a thoroughly cheerful ‘thank you’.
The lady volunteer was no doubt cold, probably had tea to cook the same as I did, but was giving up her time to pay her own personal tribute to the Fallen. It’s the British way, Mr Trump.
Tuesday came in like a train with the ‘T’ word everywhere. Lots of complaints, people wailing in the streets and one OAP on radio saying her life would never be the same again.
The ‘T’ word wasn’t Trump this time, though, it was Toblerone.
Manufacturers US-based Mondelez International said the idea of increasing the gap between the triangle peaks was to reduce weight, brought about by a rise in the cost of ingredients. Fair enough, but wouldn’t a shorter bar in the previous format have created less of a storm?
Of course, Wagon Wheels are smaller than when I was a nipper but they are sort of the same. Mars bars are in a shiny wrapper as opposed to the nice, tearable paper of old, but I get that, too. But change the appearance or, God forbid, the name (anyone fancy a Marathon?) and you have all and sundry on your back.
We like stability. We like things remaining familiar and with not too many surprises.
Good luck, America.