Watching Paint Dry!

It would be fair to say that Robbie and I could (and often do) argue about absolutely anything. The other day we had a fierce row about Fred Dibnah. Robbie has some very dubious interests but without doubt I find his fascination with Fred Dibnah the most difficult to deal with. Usually the mere mention of his name causes me to run for cover, and if Robbie threatens to watch his series on television I take myself off to do something more exciting like watching paint dry. This week it was so cold (and I had run out of paint!) so even the mention of dead Fred wasn't going to make me give up my seat in front of the fire. With gritted teeth I endured half an hour of excruciating boredom, I turned my back on the television and tried to focus on my computer, but it was impossible to ignore and before long by blood pressure was off the scale. 


If they ever gave a lifetime achievement award for the most inarticulate man on television he would have beaten Bill and Ben by a mile. I didn't understand a word he said in the whole programme. The trail for the programme mentioned that in this episode he would be taking his steam engine to Sheffield. I was interested because it is a place that is very dear to my heart. I lived there for a while, I love the South Yorkshire accent and I thought it would be nice to see footage of Sheffield as I remember it. Sadly the whole episode seemed to consist of old men standing around in what looked like a pub communicating in monosyllabic grunts. Worse still I don't think there was a woman in the entire episode! We would not show old programmes that are racist so why would anyone think it was ok to show something that is so blatantly sexist? I think I will have to start a 'ban Fred' campaign, his dvds should be relegated to 'under the counter sales' in shops that are frequented by men in dirty raincoats with 'unnatural appetites'


The whole Fred argument led on to another heated exchange about the gender of vehicles. It really irritates me that men refer to cars, lorries, locomotives, steam rollers etc as 'she' when it is blatantly obvious that they are male! I have explained before that my car is definitely male because it is unreliable and expensive to maintain. I only know of one man who's car has a male name, my daughter's boyfriend has a car called Bruce. I was very impressed that he had chosen such an apt name, Bruce is very loud, hard to ignore, rather unconventional and prone to the occasional bad day (apologies to anyone called Bruce but that is what the name conjures up for me). Bruce is a red Citroen Saxo with lots of adaptations. It turns out that it was my daughter who named the car not her boyfriend, so maybe it is a case of like mother like daughter!