Partying with the Vegetables

Yesterday was, of course, the 75th anniversary of V.E. Day and, whilst I don't want to come over all Grinch-like, it provided the perfect ruse for thousands to defy the lockdown restrictions, breach social distancing guidelines and simultaneously fly the Union flag. Whether they did so because of a desire to party, to honour the war dead across Europe during the Second World War or simply out of jingoistic fervour, I neither know nor care. In fact there were probably many who had seen the headlines on the front pages of Thursday's newspapers and thought we were out of lockdown for the Bank Holiday anyway.

Victory in Europe (not over Europe as the Daily Fail inappropriately printed in a souvenir offer recently) signified the end of a dreadful conflict across the continent some 3 months ahead of the armistice on 14th August 1945 (V.J. Day). More than 70 million people across the world lost their lives during that war which I think puts the ridiculous comparisons with the current global pandemic into proportion.

From a population of approximately 47 million in 1939, Britain lost some 451,000 people during the conflict. Yesterday was, therefore, a fitting date on which to remember and commemorate those and the casualties from other countries for their sacrifice. I understand why some who lived through the dark days of war in Europe would have gathered to celebrate, but fail to understand what would drive us to do so today. Partying in an effort to channel some Blitz or even alcoholic spirit just doesn't seem appropriate somehow, especially at such a difficult time when bellicose metaphors are unhelpful but readily meted out. The end of the war was greeted with relief; didn't the real joy emerge as the troops returned home or, just a couple of months later in  July 1945 when the people elected a Labour Government with a landslide majority and an agenda for lasting change, including a National Health Service?

With the mixed messages and delayed action that have constantly emerged from the present Government during the current crisis, I am just hoping that the death toll doesn't match that of the 67,000 British civilians who lost their lives during the war. Now that is a sobering thought, although it is rare for newspapers to devote any front page space to the statistics.

There is a school of thought that some at the heart of our Government are actually applying nudge theory to manipulate the response. Hence, when people were asked to avoid bars, gyms and restaurants they did so, moving the Government to order their closure; then as football teams started to cancel matches and the organisers of other large events followed, an official lockdown was introduced.

Now, when those that influence the Government want the economy to start again, the population is nudged into demanding the reopening of normal life  and what better way to do it, than to encourage the country to participate in some kind of giant street party. I know that some participants will have been very controlled. They will have observed the two metres social distancing guidelines at all times and never ventured over the perimeter of their property whilst enjoying the company of their neighbours from the front of their home. In circumstances, however, where the regulations prohibit us from leaving our home without a reasonable excuse, this doesn't include dancing in the street or driving to a neighbouring village to attend a barbecue in somebody else's garden which is of course precisely what many people did, as evidenced by various videos and posts splashed across social media.

So there you have it. I'm a miserable, law abiding party pooper who can't stand the way our national flag in the name of patriotism has been hijacked by populists, some of whom don't even know which way round to fly the thing, and at the same time potentially allow themselves to be played by the forces that seek to exploit them.

Imagine being forced into lockdown with me? It's okay, Mister E shares similar views (I hope).

So what kept us entertained yesterday after paying homage to history in our own silent way?

Well it was the arrival, not only of a milk delivery which Mister E excitingly discovered comes at 3.30am (I slept through it), but also of our fortnightly organic vegetable and fruit bags. Forget partying in the street, we had one in the solitude of our garage, unpacking onions, potatoes, a courgette, carrots and the first runner beans of the season!