Today (26th Feb) is my birthday and I have just turned 41. Turning 40
hurts, but turning 41 is fucking agony...... At least last year, I was
still in my 30s yesterday. This year, I am IN my 40s,
no longer able to use that back door escape route.
Anyway,
to the point. I did the usual, adult, white, middle
class thing and went for a meal with friends. Enjoyable as it turned
out, a nice Italian restaurant just up the coast, but hardly rock
and roll. By midnight (41 and 1 day) I was back in my empty house,
listening to Muddy Waters and feeling generally sorry for myself. Still
not tired, I decided to "surf" for a while to find anything that may
amuse me on the net until the need to sleep overtook me.
I
have, until now, always resisted the urge. But tonight I
found myself reading your pages, in particular your latest "rant". I
too work in the service of the public, in my case for a Local Authority
in the UK, and many of the frustrations you spoke of certainly struck a
cord. However, I was reminded of one particular day a few months ago
which may, or may not, sound familiar.
I
work in Social Housing, a field not dissimilar to
your own, where everybody feels that everybody else is
getting preferential treatment. Well, I achieved the Holy Trinity
within the space of just 2 hours. First the white guy who tells me he
would have been housed by now if he was "smack head" (local term for
Heroin addict), then the smack head who tells me he would be housed by
now if he was an immigrant (common statement), then the immigrant who
tells me he would be housed by now if he was white. Everybody believes
that everybody else is getting prefferential treatment and we are left
to face the flack. It doesn't matter what you say or how many times you
explain that these issues are not a factor, they will never
believe you. And rather than stepping away from the television set to
act on any suggestions or advice you may give, yes, they pick up the
phone and call either the local paper or their elected Councillor, and
they ask the same questions again and get the same answers, duplicating
my workload to the benefit of nobody.
However,
if you have got this far, you must still be
wondering why I was looking on your particular website in the small
hours of a Sunday morning from the UK. Well, the main reason is another
thing we share.
I,
too, am cursed with the name Chris Joy!