The weekend has brought more sunshine to the United Kingdom. Yet, dark clouds are gathering. Thousands breached rules on social distancing to hold street parties to celebrate the 75th anniversary of VE Day. Some of these scenes were screened on television news outlets to almost universal dismay. Many others flocked to parks to picnic, party and essentially do whatever they wanted despite their actions risking their own lives and those of loved ones.
They talk of a lockdown but, in my mind, it is increasingly in name only. Adam, Rebecca and I visited our local park yesterday for our daily exercise. Adam and I ran some interval drills as part of his ongoing ACL rehabilitation programme while Rebecca cycled round the perimeter of the pitch. We were adhering to social distancing guidelines and the plan was to be back in the house within the hour.
When we arrived, four twenty something males were kicking a football around the pitch. Now I could be horribly wrong but they didn’t look as if they belonged to the one household. They weren’t following social distancing rules. And as for daily exercise? They seemed more interested in smoking and drinking beer than the football which they were half heartedly kicking back and forth. My two teenage children were appalled by the example being set to them by so called adults.
This is where we are at. The death toll in the U.K. stands at over 31,000 and rising, only second to the United States, where over 80,000 are now dead. But who cares in today’s vacuous, self obsessed, privileged ‘me me me’ society. Our society ‘celebrates’ the sacrifice and selflessness of fallen war heroes by getting drunk, dancing the conga up and down the street and doing their bit to raise infection rates within their community. They sicken me.