The Slow Sad Death of the ‘Stiff Upper Lip’

Back in the day, when I was growing up – well, perhaps I should say when I began to get older as ‘growing up’ might be pushing it a bit in my case – I seem to recall calmness. Placidity if you will. For some reason nobody panicked. If something awful happened everyone remained calm and composed and somehow we came through what ever it was that had happened.

This sensation of calmness seemed to be prevalent in Britain at any rate. I have no idea whether this same calmness occurred across the globe or not but, in Britain, all was calm.

Rationing after WWII continued into the 1950’s – the decade I was born. All remained calm. The ‘swinging 60’s’ and free love arrived and, whilst the occasional letter to The Times newspaper from ‘Angry of Mayfair’ popped up generally speaking, calmness reigned in Britain.

The Cuban Missile Crisis and the possibility of a nuclear holocaust caused not a ripple of noticeable concern to the denizens of Britain.

The 1970’s arrived and Glam Rock appeared on the scene with David Bowie stating his bi-sexuality. Panic? Not a bit of it. ‘Angry of Mayfair’ continued to express his displeasure to The Times but Glam Rock, whilst slightly alarming parents as their teenage sons began wearing more make up than their teenage daughters, did not cause panic.

The IRA decided to blow bits of Britain up. Did it cause panic? No. Not a bit of it. Outrage and anger certainly but panic? Never. The British do not panic. It is symptomatic of having British genes that the word ‘panic’, whilst in our vocabulary, is not a state that we ever arrive at.

The 1980’s arrived and even Thatcher couldn’t cause panic. Anger certainly as mining communities were destroyed but never panic. Argentina invaded The Falkland Islands but did Britain panic? Not at all. We just sank their ship and shared an understanding with them resulting in them leaving again. Panic was not on the agenda.

The 1990’s drifted along quite nicely on the whole. Of course there were tragedies and such along the way but, in Britain, tragedies produce sadness or, depending on the circumstances, anger or bewilderment or confusion but, no matter what is going on, never ever panic.

By the turn of the Century something almost intangible seemed to change. I think it began around the time of Princess Diana’s funeral actually albeit that was a while earlier. All that public emotion and throwing flowers on her funeral procession and other ridiculous bits of behaviour. It was almost as though, overnight, we had, as a nation, gone all sort of ‘gooey’.

It was very odd really. Great Britain. The nation that had made famous ‘the stiff upper lip’ had suddenly become a nation of weepers and wailers. Disgraceful really but if you said that to the weepers and wailers they would just weep and wail all the more I suppose.

I find it very odd that, today, after growing up through decades of the British people never panicking nor showing themselves up in public by behaving like, well, someone not British really, that every other bloody day there is some apparently masculine chap blubbering on TV or some seemingly sensible woman screetching away and generally behaving like a fish wife.

The best example I can give, at least from a personal perspective, of today’s British not being a patch on those of yesterday is this :

Quite a long time back – about 7 or so years – I split my calf muscle playing football (soccer). I went to the hospital Accident & Emergency Department to get some strapping on it and some crutches. I sat and waited and waited and waited as you tend to do in A&E – unless your actually dying of course.

Quite suddenly and unexpectedly a body dropped through the roof and hit the floor not that far away from where I was sitting. Some chap had taken it into his head to commit suicide, jumped from a great height, crashed through the roof of A&E and, well, succeeded in his quest I suppose.

Panic ensued. Absolute blind panic. I was amazed and perplexed. People were running about all over the place actually screaming. Almost as suddenly there was complete and utter silence. At that point, not expecting my words to come out in otherwise complete silence, I said :

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day”

Much to my bemusement some people verbally abused me as ‘unfeeling’ – they were even more annoyed when I pointed out that I presumed I could almost certainly ‘feel’ considerably more than the deceased.

“Besides” I added, as a coup de grace, “bloody thoughtless of him really. Who’s going to clear up all that mess?”

At that point I discovered the previously crowded A&E had emptied – well, those left seemed determined not to sit anywhere near me anyway.

“Excuse me?” I asked a nurse, “could I get some strapping and crutches now as there aren’t many left waiting?”

Even the nurse seemed angry at my apparent lack of concern.

Now look. Some chap had taken it into his silly head to launch himself off some roof or other and had made a bloody mess (literally) in A&E. There was absolutely nothing that could be done for him – apart from mop him up and make sure all his bits were in the same black bag – so what was the point of all the panic?

Had he actually landed on some poor sod than, perhaps, a moderate degree of concern may have been appropriate but what is with all this ‘panic’ thing?

Every where you go today everyone is panicking and getting emotional about everything.

I think, albeit it wasn’t too noticeable apart from her funeral, that it’s Princess Diana’s fault. She started all this TV weeping and wailing with that awful interview about ‘3 people in a marriage’ and all that guff. I mean to say! You were royalty you silly moo! Stiff upper lip and all that! Diana’s lip only seemed to have three settings and all of them were various tremor settings.

The Bull Dog Nation that we once were rightly known as seems to be rapidly becoming the weak kneed nation of pussies.

Perhaps we will, one day, recover our pride and our stiff upper lips. If it gets any worse I may sneak out at night and spray every ones lips with starch to help get us back on the right track.

Never mind. As Corporal Jones of the ‘Dad’s Army’ TV show of beloved memory frequently said :

“DON’T PANIC!”

Happy

0 0 %

Sad

0 0 %

Excited

0 0 %

Sleepy

0 0 %

Angry

0 0 %

Surprise

0 0 %