Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The nannies are coming to town!
I think that Southsea is well placed to become a southern centre of excellence for nannies, the reason being that during our visit there I was startled by hearing a silky, bossy female voice - the epitome of the nanny voice - emanating from the machine from which one procured pay and display parking tickets. It was exhorting me to make sure that I placed the ticket most carefully in my car so that the parking wardens would not mistake the car for that of a defaulter. It may also have been exhorting me to keep an eye on the time and be sure to be back before the expiry of the ticket but, stunned though I was, I had moved away by that point. I wonder how much this marvel of nannydom added to the cost of the ticket machine? Sadly, I suppose, not much these days. The things are being produced by the million, pulling the costs of bossiness down to easily affordable levels.
There was also a proper sea-side cafe. Bright white wooden shed affair. Sold chips, pies and bacon sandwiches, with never a baked potato in sight. It was clearly destined to be the sort of place members of the volunteer army of nannies could lurk outside and make sure you understood the danger you were running by eating in such a place. For those that may have missed this bit of news, it seems that our Minister of Health wants to set up such a volunteer army to harangue us at all points about unhealthy behaviour. Building on the success of the neighbourhood watch scheme. One can imagine threads of email conversation whanging about the ether reporting on someone suspected of eating a bacon sandwich in sight of someone who was below the age of consent.
On which subject, one of the customers of TB has come up with a great scheme for being both busy and making money for IT service companies. First, everybody is issued with a thing like a credit card, complete with picture, bio-metric data and what have you. Second, everyone who wants to have a drink has to go for a medical and have his bio-history downloaded onto the card. Third, the chip on the card computes your permitted allowance of drink. Not more than so much in any one hour. Not more than so much in any one visit. Not more than so much in any one day. No angostura bitters (which I have just learned come from somewhere in Venezuela, via an expatriate German) at all. So on and so forth. Fourth, you go to the pub and present the card. Fifth, provided you have not already exceeded some limit, you will be served and your card updated.
The only catch is that for this to work, one would have to ban the sale of alcoholic drinks from shops. But then you are engaging the massed ranks of the supermarkets, daring to interfere with what for them is a very profitable line. One can only guess at the outrage that would find its way into the columns of the DT.
Assuming we can get through that one, the whole thing can be sold as a dress rehearsal for the great national identity card project.
There was also a proper sea-side cafe. Bright white wooden shed affair. Sold chips, pies and bacon sandwiches, with never a baked potato in sight. It was clearly destined to be the sort of place members of the volunteer army of nannies could lurk outside and make sure you understood the danger you were running by eating in such a place. For those that may have missed this bit of news, it seems that our Minister of Health wants to set up such a volunteer army to harangue us at all points about unhealthy behaviour. Building on the success of the neighbourhood watch scheme. One can imagine threads of email conversation whanging about the ether reporting on someone suspected of eating a bacon sandwich in sight of someone who was below the age of consent.
On which subject, one of the customers of TB has come up with a great scheme for being both busy and making money for IT service companies. First, everybody is issued with a thing like a credit card, complete with picture, bio-metric data and what have you. Second, everyone who wants to have a drink has to go for a medical and have his bio-history downloaded onto the card. Third, the chip on the card computes your permitted allowance of drink. Not more than so much in any one hour. Not more than so much in any one visit. Not more than so much in any one day. No angostura bitters (which I have just learned come from somewhere in Venezuela, via an expatriate German) at all. So on and so forth. Fourth, you go to the pub and present the card. Fifth, provided you have not already exceeded some limit, you will be served and your card updated.
The only catch is that for this to work, one would have to ban the sale of alcoholic drinks from shops. But then you are engaging the massed ranks of the supermarkets, daring to interfere with what for them is a very profitable line. One can only guess at the outrage that would find its way into the columns of the DT.
Assuming we can get through that one, the whole thing can be sold as a dress rehearsal for the great national identity card project.
# posted by Jim @ 1:17 AM 
