My tolerance and patience are legendary, (as the woman I was forced to beat with a rolled up MCN for tutting too disapprovingly on the Northern Line will testify.) When I am King there is going to be one simple rule – if I can hear your music outside your house, it’s TOO DAMN LOUD. (Actually, when I am King there are going to be some other rules too, but these are more complicated. The poles in Underground carriages are going to be wired so that if any body parts other than the hand for which it is intended rest upon it, your testicles will fall off. That should stop blokes leaning on them in order to leave both hands free for the newspaper. Also my subjects will be issued with a miracle of technology which, if pointed at someone using their mobile phone while driving, causes their heads to explode. I accept that there will be some initial FlashForward style carnage caused by headless motorists but I believe this would encourage rather more rapid compliance than any number of carefully-worded motorway signs. Also, given some of the standards of driving out there, I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell the difference.)

So when Frank Melling was looking for feedback on his plans for the new improved Thundersprint Quiet Zone, somehow I sprang to mind….

Frank has a simple dilemma – how to keep two opposed sets of people happy. Those who think that 6am is best seen after 2am, 3am and 4am, standing by a large bonfire with a beer in one hand and a likely prospect in the other, and those who think that 6am is a bit bloody cruel as a starting time for scrutineering.

Like my credit card and a second-hand bookstore, it is wisest for these groups not to meet in the first place. So the plans for 2010 sound fantastic. The Quiet Campers will be on the football pitch at Witton Albion FC, and anyone going through the gate to set up behind the goal lines will have to acknowledge that they are heading into a curfew zone. The Happy Campers will be the other side of a high wall. Like Escape from New York, but the other way round.

I think it sounds great, but I was sold at the thought of camping on the pitch. PB dents my happiness by reminding me that the football players have to go home first.



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2 responses to “Sshhh…

  1. While you're about it can you arrange for exploding breasts for any woman who spreads her handbag out across the seat next to her as she applies the slap or finds the iPod ?

  2. Absolutely. Especially if she then goes on to trim her fingernails and send the little bits pinging all over the carriage.

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