Or at least it is between the months of August through to May. The rest of the time I may feel able to write about something other than a not especially successful football team.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
An encounter with an alien life form (for both of us)
I went to Windsor yesterday, and will return to the subject of our visit to the castle but I am still reeling from a conversation I had whilst purchasing a newspaper in Eton.
I hadn't realised before just exactly how close Eton is to Windsor. Generations of royal pupils have had absolutely no excuse for not popping in to see their family - in fact they could probably wave to them on a daily basis from the top rooms of Eton to the top of the castle battlements. I digress. The point here is that mum and I walked over the bridge at Windsor to look at Eton College.
Eton is indeed another world; one of extraordinary privilege. This is reflected in every shop window by the items on sale (like socks for Lower Boating????), and by the fact that they clearly see nothing odd in the name of their primary school. Most obviously of course it is refelcted in the school with which Eton shares its name.
Messalina observed to me recently when we went on a guided walk round London Inns of Court that there must be a whole section of society that thinks that all of England looks the same. They go to Eton for school, progress to Oxford or Cambridge where the colleges look just like school, and then they go on to the Inns of Court which looks just like Oxbridge and there they stay until they die, blissfully unaware of any century after the 17th.
So mum and I take in this world in which we are complete outsiders. It is like being at a zoo seeing these exotic creatures in their strange school uniform,
whilst they presuambly look back and say "I say Miles old chap - is that a common person over there in that ghastly velcro tracksuit?" (For that is the kind of thing I wear.)
There is a Blackwall's bookshop directly opposite the main college building and I decided I wanted a newspaper. I picked one up from the rack outside and went in to pay. The paper was folded up and the very posh young chap behind the counter asked me what I had got. I told him it was the Guardian but I added in what I thought was a jovial and friendly manner "I did think that being in this environment I should have bought the Morning Star." "Oh" replies bloke, "What is the Morning Star?" At first I thought he was joking, but I looked at him and very quickly sussed he was completely in earnest. "Erh, it's a daily newspaper." I offered. "Is it?" he asked. "It's a Communist newspaper" I added for his further information. "Good heavens! I never knew there was such a thing," says posh (and ignorant) bloke. "Oh dear!" says I, and left with the words "Come the Revolution mate....."
Formerly known as Just Jane, but with a blog move carried out in haste I managed to end up with a blog nickname I hate..J bloody J. Oh well, too late to do anything about it now. Call me what you will. So apart from a stupid title I have three off spring, one very special bloke, lots of friends, a great family, a job I love and a rubbish football team who I love too. I also have a tendency to go on abit.....you have been warned.