Empty-headed sign thieves (From Gazette & Herald)

Empty-headed sign thieves

WHAT happens to missing road signs I wonder? Not so very long ago, in terms of years, say three or four, there was a black-on-white metal sign above what was then an antique shop at the bottom of Old Maltongate.

It said something about 'Pickering and Whitby'. High up - it needed a ladder to get to it, or a cherry picker. Anyway, it went. The county highways people said they hadn't removed it, so where this rather unique one went is anyone's guess. It couldn't really be displayed anywhere, because the wording gave an indication as to its origins. So it could only have been stolen.

Recently, the 40mph sign on the Old Malton Road 'gateway' has been ripped off. I say ripped off, because a close inspection shows the fixing screws still in the stonework. Close to the rugby club exit, where there had previously been much vandalism to the stonework etc, this sign probably sits in someone's back shed. Such disappearances can only happen at late hours, and by people in a puddled state of mind. Already the 30mph signs, approaching the village, are showing signs of pre-removal. The sides having been bent back in initial attempts to remove them, and they have been heavily scratched on their surfaces.

Nearer Malton, the wooden seat dedicated to Sgt Winter has been torn away from its metal brackets, and whether this has already had a trip up the road, I know not, but currently it's ready for removal. Requested to remove a seat from its fixings, and move it somewhere, in the course of employment, and without tools, these empty-heads would no doubt refuse, but 'tanked up' they become weak-minded and resort to destroying things around them. The Gazette & Herald's report on sign-removal tells that at least ten villages have been targeted by thieves this year, so far, Levisham being the last. Happily, the police have traced this one. Hopefully they might also trace the people who take delight in destroying property around them, and take appropriate action.

'Oss muck' in our streets was once an accepted fact. Many old picture postcards show evidence of this, and many elder folk will remember it as normal. We're not used to it now, and to be seen with a dog, for instance, being responsible for dirt on the pavement can be a reason for the intervention of the law. However, with a horse, 20 times the amount of dirt is left behind, and in Old Malton last week this really was a mess, and on the pavement too. I don't see anyone rushing out these days with a bucket and shovel to scoop it up for the garden, as rose enthusiasts were liable to do years ago. Now, we are left for it to be kicked around till it gets lost, which really isn't acceptable any more, and horse users should have a liability in this respect.

Tablet bottles are getting bigger, if Boots' recent performances are anything to go by. A month's supply of, say, 28 tiny pills can come in a large bottle which could probably take 500 - this being even larger than the previous 'too-large' ones. Branches have to use what head office send them and have no choice in the matter. On top of this, the anti-open cap seems to be obligatory now, and whether one has children in the house or not they seem to be a fact of life. It is quite unnecessary for old folk who have much difficulty in getting them open. Diminishing strength and arthritic fingers don't go together with these 'difficult-to-open' caps. Write to Boots head office. No, don't bother. You'll most likely get Letter No 27, or whatever, which is worded to answer most enquiries and to dispose of your grumble, in common with many large companies these days. If you're one of those folk who have a need to carry their tablets with them, then a small, flat bottle would be the ideal thing for the handbag, or man's pocket, but dispensing containers don't appear to come in anything but round bottles. All for ease of manufacture. Not for the consideration of the user.

It's great to watch the youngsters learning to play tennis, and a delight, too, to see so many taking to this pleasant sport. Their regular instructor keeps them all on their toes and, like his charges, seems to thoroughly enjoy it all. Many of the youngsters fare better than their elders, for there are adults who won't bother to exert themselves if the ball doesn't come handy, and it makes me wonder sometimes why they bother. My own efforts only took me as far as playing in the Villages League, which combined the social side of tennis with a hard game, won or lost. The last bit didn't really matter after all. Nice to win now and again, maybe win the Villages Cup, but in the end it was the taking part which was what it was all about, for you always did your best. Wimbledon may be the best there is, but local club tennis has it whacked for variety any day. Here you see the young and the old, the good and the bad, and the play is for pleasure, not millions. That's the difference.

Quote: "Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It's war, without the shooting". George Orwell, (1903-1950).

Updated: 10:26 Wednesday, July 09, 2003