What can one say about 2016? It’s a year that we would do better to rewind, or erase completely, than review. A dark hole, has 2016 been. Brexit – six months old today – remains a nonsense, and it’s beginning to bite financially. The electorate didn’t really know what the EU is and the Brexit government have not a clue how to Brexit.
Still, it could be worse. We didn’t elect a Trump. That takes a very special brand of star spangled stupid. Seriously, what were you Yanks thinking? Did you not ever actually listen to the guy speak? One can only assume selective hearing was at play.
But we end the year with Britons finally and directly confronting the real causes behind their problems. Down tools, comrades. Strike! Trains, planes and post offices. Tis not yet the Winter of Discontent. But it’s more than Brexit Blues. At the moment it is simply the December of Doom and Gloom. I suspect things will escalate. There’s no talk of a strike at my train company though. Not yet. And probably not likely for the foreseeable. My union just agreed a reasonable pay increase, fractionally above inflation.
But otherwise, life is good. Mrs P and I will remember 2016 as the year we became home owners. We dined at Raymond Blanc’s Oxfordshire restaurant. We marvelled at the beauty of the Scottish Highlands. We satisfied our yearning to see Mexico once again. We celebrated the Queen’s 90th with her at Windsor. We have enough. No one I know died. And providing we make it a few more days, we’ll see in 2017 to see what happens next.
Yet I still feel I should do more to support my comrades in arms. So I shall strike. I will down my virtual pen. There’ll be no more Mexile this year. Service may resume next year. Probably. I’ve lost my blogging mojo. Truth be told, I lost my blogging mojo when I left Mexico. I will continue in some form, of course. It’s become a habit that’s hard to break. But perhaps as a more photograph-centric endeavor. I should keep posts down to 140 characters. Spit them out at three in the morning. Pack them with vitriol, casual racism and fictional claims. I’ve heard that’s popular these days.