Tinsel Tears

‘Look at that!’ said Steve to Johnny. ‘Look at that.’

Johnny was just taking his coat off and was looking forward to a mouthful of the beer Steve had thoughtfully bought him. But Steve wasn’t pointing to the beer, he was pointing at a newspaper laying on the table.

Johnny sat down and did as he was told and picked up the newspaper Steve had pointed at.

‘Not like you to read the Daily Mail mate.’ Johnny teased.

‘It was on the table when I got here.’ Steve said defensively. ‘Just read it.’

‘Do I have to? I feel dirty even looking at it.’

Despite his protestations, Johnny read the article in the right wing rag and then looked at Steve quizzically. ‘I thought this was the kind of thing you liked.’ He said. ‘I thought you were all for health and safety.’

Steve had handed Johnny an article about a lollipop man who had been told to remove tinsel from his lollipop; apparently the glare was dangerous for drivers.

‘Oh I totally agree with the decision,’ said Steve, ‘totally, but look at this snivelling tone, suggesting that the man’s bosses are killing Christmas. What would you rather, dead Christmas or a dead child?’

‘It’s the Daily Mail mate, what do you expect?’

‘I know but look at this line.’ Steve scanned the article, cleared his throat and read the line. ‘When I was told the tinsel had to go, I was in tears and so were the children' he paused letting the significance of the line sink in but as usual Johnny was not sure where Steve was going with this.

‘Now I’m sorry but that is the real news.  The headline should be kids cry over tinsel removal. Whatever happened to the good old stiff upper lip? Whatever happened to British stoicism? Are we really producing children who burst into tears when their lollipop man has to take down his tinsel? What is going on with parenting? We used to bring up children to win wars and conquer the world but now we seem to be preparing them to get sympathy votes on the X Factor. It’s a bloody disgrace.’  Steve took a swig of his beer.

‘I didn’t know you were such an imperialst Steve.’ Johnny said.

‘I’m not and you know I’m not, that’s not the point. The point is if my kid cried over something like this then I would want to have a long sit down and chat with them. But the bloody parents are encouraging it; they are probably teaching their kids to do that awful fanning themselves with their hands thing too. Don’t get me wrong there is nothing wrong with a little sob now and then, you know a dead hamster, a cut knee, the John Lewis advert but over tinsel? Really? I blame Princess Diana.’

‘Princess Diana?’ Johnny said, wondering how Steve’s synapses were firing.

‘Yeah, well not her exactly but the overblown reaction to her death. Britain went into meltdown, it went mad, tears became fashionable and since then it has all been about showing how upset we are, one tiny bit of bad news and we turn on the nations water works. It’s like a bloody competition, my kid cried more tears than yours.’

‘Steve, you’re incorrigible.’ Johnny laughed as he collected the empties and headed for the bar.