I was just dozing in front of the football (is there another way to watch?), when the call came. Urgent committee meeting tomorrow. An incident involving the sit-on mower. Hoping that this would involve forensic investigation of a decapitation, or at the very least limb-removal, I agreed to come along. Sadly, no plants or even people were injured in the making of this incident. We were called to take a view of another ‘grumpy old man’ incident. You may be familiar with the same. The protagonist is someone whose enthusiasm for growing traditional vegetables masks a deep-seated misanthropy which is stirred to passion when the committee is involved. The ‘casus belli’? The sight of the new sit-on mower be used by a volunteer to cut the paths and verges on the site. Were the views on such a flagrant waste of Society funds expressed in reasoned, rational terms? What do you think?
From an initial salvo about the cost, to a broadside on self-serving bureaucrats and on to the killing blow: a rant on corruption, cronyism and casuistry. All accompanied with lowering brows and and vigorous arm-waving. To his credit, Neville held his ground, explained the reasoning behind the purchase of the mower and suggested that Rambling Sid might like to attend a committee meeting to give his views. Luckily the mower has a reverse gear or he might have had a clip round the ear in reply.
So we were called to consider Neville’s complaint, not that the evidence needed much scrutiny. Rambling Sid has form in this area. But what to do? He pays his rent, keeps his allotment tidy and, aside from an unwillingness to engage civilly with any other than Foul Ol’ Ron and Mad-Eye Mick, is a model allotmenteer. In the best-tradition of self-serving, authoritarian bureaucrats, we decided to send him a letter, a strongly-worded letter accompanied with a copy of the Tenant’s Handbook. I’m sure he’ll give them both appropriate consideration and, in any event, the composting toilet on the site will cope with the paper. Neville is satisfied, although Big Norm, the former RSM, will have the fun of cutting those particular paths next time around.
It all set me musing, though, about the particular set of life experiences which lead to the development of the affliction known as Grumpy Owld Sod Syndrome. What is it that drives people to choose a hobby, which can largely be solitary, contemplative and soothing, and then work themselves into distraction over the actions of those others who enjoy doing a little for the greater good. And,if the reward for putting in a few hours running the shop, cutting the paths and generally keeping the enterprise going, is a bit of fun on the sit-on mower, who can complain at that?
growingandreflecting 