I'VE never written a letter to a newspaper before, and rarely feel the need to air my views to the general public.
Possibly I'm getting old and grumpy, but I believe a situation has arisen in Blackburn recently which is particularly disturbing and I would like to highlight what has become, to my mind at least, a very disappointing affair.
I've written my letter in the form of rhyme to make it a little more interesting. The message is simple but, I believe, relevant.
Northern Soul
Hear my tale of rhythm and rhyme
Of northern soul and changing times,
I lived in London for two years, no more
To see the sights and learn the score.
And though the people crowded everywhere
Population swelled each pocket of air,
Never in my time had I felt so alone
So surrounded by loneliness in each empty stare.
On the buses we departed ten feet from the driver
Just silently walked out to the rush and the fever,
I began to think this is how it always had been
No words of thanks given for the journey's between.
And then my life changed, and I found love again
To the town of Blackburn I made my way,
And what a surprise to my forgetful eyes
To be back among the joys of northern lives.
The bus driver's so friendly, stopping where you request
Waving and wishing you all the best,
And if a little bit late, bus pushing away
They'd smile at you warmly and pull over again.
What a simple way to make the day better
Common courtesy providing such innocent pleasure,
This northern soul alive and kicking
Back among the good people just naturally living.
Least this was how it was when first I arrived
When two bus companies competed to give the better ride,
Was I naive to believe that their banter was sincere?
Was it merely a ruse to keep their future clear?
For now the red buses are nowhere to be seen
And drastic changes are appearing in the buses that are green,
No longer smiles and pleasure, no longer help the elder,
Is this the future unpleasantness, is this the new forever?
Famous words have been written 'bout the need for competition
And as this service crumbles away happy thoughts get stuck in yesterday,
I stand at stops for half an hour and no bus arrives to make my day
I arrive in just 10 seconds too late, he averts his gaze and drives away.
So their jobs are safe, they've won the war
Does that mean they don't need to be polite any more?
Does that mean they turn up when they feel like it now?
Is this the new face of the northern soul?
I refuse to believe it, but I still walk to work
Better in myself for the good exercise,
They may feel safer now and their arrogance shows
But for me it's a sad thing to witness at home.
DARREN NAGLE, Blackburn (via email).
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