Less is more
I've just had another of those "is it just me?" moments - or rather "is it just us?" as I was with my wife and she felt the same way. Actually, what I want to talk about is possibly, for many people, bordering on inconsequential, but to me it is the perfect illustration of how the forces of commercialism have subtely degraded what I remember as a treasured childhood event.
We took the kids to a bonfire and fireworks, put on by the local school where Agnes's nursery is based. So far so good, nice idea, small scale, profits to the school, but...
It just wasn't the sort of experience I was hoping for, for me or the kids.
First of all the flyer for the event mentioned that the gates were open from 6 pm. We were a little late setting off walking (what's new) so rushed a bit as not to miss the start. entry was £5 per family (reasonable), but when we asked what time the display started we were told "around 7.30" - Aaargh! We now had almost one and a half hours to entertain one and two year olds, just as they were starting to tire at the end of the day - how fortunate then that there were some small commercial fairground attractions there too! Maybe I'm being over cynical but I have a horrible suspicion that the one and a half hour wait was imposed so that people would spend money on the sideshows, rather than the sideshows being there because of the wait. I'm not suggesting by the way that the organisers, who I assume are all voluntary, had anything but good intentions, I just think that this kind of insidious thinking has become almost endemic. Surely the point of bonfire night is that the fire and fireworks are the attraction?
Actually I guess that around here organisers might plead a special case for their excesses, in that we live by the seaside and the local authorities put on firework displays every week during the summer for the tourists - hence the local kids are probably rather blase about fireworks. Also, these days, come Nov 5th (or 3rd in this case) they are still probably a little hung-over from the sugar-rush of Halloween. So of course the obvious solution is to up the ante. Not just fireworks, but trampolines, a ball pit and the chance to throw a few darts and win a cuddly toy!
Worst of all, even when the firework display started, while half the kids obliviously continued to chase each other around the school playing field (at least some of them still take simple pleasures, despite our best adult intentions) and their parents stood looking at their watches, the side shows kept their lights on and their music blaring! It was awful.
I could also go on about the lack of a Guy on the bonfire. In short, maybe it is a little un-PC these days to burn effigies of Catholics. But if we are too squeemish to do that, and to really rememeber why we are doing it, then maybe we should forget the whole thing. Obvioulsy this would upset a few retailers, who must make fantastic margins on their £49.99 packs of garishly packaged ordnance (surely only matched in rip-off value by Christmas crackers, Easter eggs and sun cream), but I have a horrible feeling that what was once a much looked forward to event, preceeded by days and weeks of firewood collecting, penny for the Guy and the careful selection of individual catherine wheels, jumping-jacks, rockets and bangers, is gone for ever. But each year, the arrival by post of a small packet of "plot toffee" lovingly made by my mother rekindles a flame.
We took the kids to a bonfire and fireworks, put on by the local school where Agnes's nursery is based. So far so good, nice idea, small scale, profits to the school, but...
It just wasn't the sort of experience I was hoping for, for me or the kids.
First of all the flyer for the event mentioned that the gates were open from 6 pm. We were a little late setting off walking (what's new) so rushed a bit as not to miss the start. entry was £5 per family (reasonable), but when we asked what time the display started we were told "around 7.30" - Aaargh! We now had almost one and a half hours to entertain one and two year olds, just as they were starting to tire at the end of the day - how fortunate then that there were some small commercial fairground attractions there too! Maybe I'm being over cynical but I have a horrible suspicion that the one and a half hour wait was imposed so that people would spend money on the sideshows, rather than the sideshows being there because of the wait. I'm not suggesting by the way that the organisers, who I assume are all voluntary, had anything but good intentions, I just think that this kind of insidious thinking has become almost endemic. Surely the point of bonfire night is that the fire and fireworks are the attraction?
Actually I guess that around here organisers might plead a special case for their excesses, in that we live by the seaside and the local authorities put on firework displays every week during the summer for the tourists - hence the local kids are probably rather blase about fireworks. Also, these days, come Nov 5th (or 3rd in this case) they are still probably a little hung-over from the sugar-rush of Halloween. So of course the obvious solution is to up the ante. Not just fireworks, but trampolines, a ball pit and the chance to throw a few darts and win a cuddly toy!
Worst of all, even when the firework display started, while half the kids obliviously continued to chase each other around the school playing field (at least some of them still take simple pleasures, despite our best adult intentions) and their parents stood looking at their watches, the side shows kept their lights on and their music blaring! It was awful.
I could also go on about the lack of a Guy on the bonfire. In short, maybe it is a little un-PC these days to burn effigies of Catholics. But if we are too squeemish to do that, and to really rememeber why we are doing it, then maybe we should forget the whole thing. Obvioulsy this would upset a few retailers, who must make fantastic margins on their £49.99 packs of garishly packaged ordnance (surely only matched in rip-off value by Christmas crackers, Easter eggs and sun cream), but I have a horrible feeling that what was once a much looked forward to event, preceeded by days and weeks of firewood collecting, penny for the Guy and the careful selection of individual catherine wheels, jumping-jacks, rockets and bangers, is gone for ever. But each year, the arrival by post of a small packet of "plot toffee" lovingly made by my mother rekindles a flame.
posted by Jon Brooke at 10:18 pm
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