There are those so dispirited by changes to their local landscape and social environment that they become somewhat morose and overly nostalgic; however there are two further groups: those that are able to compartmentalize unwelcome changes in a positive way and those that sometimes cannot.
I'm in that last group. For me, tender thoughts about long gone loved ones are stimulated by old artifacts and unsummoned 'sacred' music. Questions are posed: did I do enough for mum and dad and did they do enough for me? I do more washing up in a week than I ever did for mum but sadly my current work ethic, derived from belated maturity, comes much too late for dear old mum.
The workingmen's club has gone; it was a source of liquid lubrication that helped transport miners away from tough, dangerous and filthy working conditions into a more colourful world of leeks, roses, tomatoes, anticipated trips to Redcar, Milburn, Shackleton, pigeons, gossip and much more.
The club did struggle against death but many scores of top dog miners were replaced by a few impoverished ex-miners that drank a slower pint, and a sprinkle of young men with little knowledge of a coal mine. The building lost its primary purpose, spirit and economic viability. There is no need to dwell upon its fate: its a familiar story of social and economic loss, but that is hopefully being replaced by wholesome community renewal and positive progress. Is it?
WB
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Bold comments Wilf but I think that comments about wholesome community renewal and positive progress come from the same westminster rucksack as "the green shoots of recovery and all in it together" the truth being the vllagers are left with sweet bugger all
ReplyDeleteThank you for that Frank! You are telling it how it is rather than relying on an adopted southern softy's comments.
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