Two
parables today, one personal and one general.
The first lesson deals
with my tendency to spoil myself. After all, why can’t I have it all, I ask?
I’m worth it, right?
But
sometimes the Universe just has to jerk me back to reality. There are
consequences to one’s indulgence. Last week brought a small but expensive
illustration of that point.
Filled with gorgeous
countryside and dramatic coastline, Cornwall is made for driving, sun or no
sun. One afternoon last week I found myself at the seaside town of Perranporth,
about 10 miles from where I’m staying in Truro. OK, it’s a bit on the cheap,
touristy side, but there was a big parking lot right beside a wide sandy beach.
Since there aren’t many beaches of this nature in Cornwall – accessible by car,
rather than by hiking on foot – it was a popular place. I got the last spot in
the privately-owned car park and fed 1.50 GBP into the machine, which I thought
had bought me 90 minutes.
After lunch I sat in
the tepid sun and watched the lobster-hued bathers shiver in the chilly breeze
coming off the ocean. I’ll give it those Brits: They’re going to have their fun
at the seashore even if the water is ice-cold and their teeth are chattering! By
jiminy, it’s July and that means it’s summer and they’re going to swan about in
bathing suits and shorts and sandals if it kills them!
I don’t have a watch,
but I knew my hour and a half was about up. However, in the summertime spirit I
decided I did have time for ice cream. Popped into the shop across the street,
got my dollop of ice cream – which turned out to be only the size of a golf
ball, or a tumor – and went back to my bench by the sea to enjoy it.
Here is the heart of my
mistake.
Ten minutes later I
headed to my car, which was only a few feet away from me, just as the attendant
was pasting a ticket on my windshield. I was over my limit by TEN MINUTES.
And all because of that
blasted, microscopic ice cream cone.
Want to know how much
this blunder cost me – all because I didn’t have an extra pound coin to feed
the meter? Sit down. SIXTY POUNDS. And if I fail to pay the fine within two
weeks, the penalty increases to ONE HUNDRED POUNDS.
The only silver lining
here is that the British pound is weaker against the American dollar now than
it has been in many, many years. But still, by today’s conversion rate, 60 GBP
equals $77.87.
What have I learned?
Sometimes an ice cream cone is just ice cream, and sometimes it’s the biggest
billboard the Universe can send that YOU DON’T NEED THAT ICE CREAM, FAT GIRL!!!
Thus endeth the first lesson.
# # #
The second lesson is entitled “How to Choose a
New Leader in One Month or Less.” Americans, take note.
As most of you know, on June 23, a week after I
arrived over here, the U.K. voted to leave the European Union, an action Prime
Minister David Cameron and his Conservative Party opposed. The damnedest thing
is, Cameron himself had called for the referendum, and then boom! The Great British people surprised
him and voted to leave, and so he
found himself sort of a lame duck without sufficient support in Parliament to
continue in office. Like a proper British gentleman, he announced he'd resign.
Several candidates stepped forward to jockey
for his job, but in extremely civilized fashion, as they tested the political
waters, one by one they dropped out. In a mere two weeks that left only one standing – a woman,
Theresa May, the current Home Secretary (the equivalent of our Homeland Security
Secretary). Today's news reports say that Cameron will submit his formal
resignation to Her Majesty tomorrow or Wednesday, and then it looks like the
party’s election of May as Prime Minister could take place as early as this
weekend!
These events are extraordinary on so many
levels that I’m practically dizzy watching them. First of all, nobody has
blinked once over the fact that Britain may have only its second female prime
minister in history. Second, as a Conservative, Theresa May actually opposed “Brexit,”
and yet as Prime Minister she’ll be tasked with negotiating the orderly exit of
the U.K. from the European alliance.
And third, who can believe the refreshingly
blinding speed with which this whole process is taking place?
Of course, there are several snags on other
parts of the political front. The leader of the Labor Party is stubbornly
hanging on despite 98% of his constituents calling for his resignation, and the
head of the Liberal Democrats just up and quit. Curiously, it’s hard to find
anybody who now claims they supported Brexit, even though that side won.
So in reality, with the Prime Minister out and
everybody else in power jumping overboard, the ship of state is pretty
rudderless at the moment.
But at least they’re not embarking on a
two-and-a-half-year campaign to select Cameron’s replacement like some
democracies I could name.
Let’s review: In the U.S. we’ve been involved
in our wretched Presidential campaign for what seems like two decades now, and
still have another long, tedious three and half months to go. Show me one voter
who isn’t exhausted and fed up by this malarkey. Is anybody even paying
attention anymore? Who’s mind isn’t already made up?
And yet the Brits are accomplishing the same
thing – the selection of a new leader, one of the biggest players on the world stage, a woman who'll wear the mantle of the likes of Winston Churchill – in less than a month! The commentators
were speculating that if it takes a day or so longer, it’s because Mrs. Cameron
couldn’t pack fast enough…
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