Free from Covid isolation, I am now spoiled for choice as to what to do this weekend, Saturday in particular. My original and sole aim tomorrow was to enjoy a few pints of ale but now I learn that there are no less than six demonstrations going on in town and that’s not even allowing for the usual anti-vax loons who will doubtless be sharing unhinged conspiracy theories with disinterested shoppers and maybe even some anti-Thatchers cider protestors. I wonder if there will be any room left for ordinary folk who want to buy and/or drink things?
A local football club will be picketing minimum wage workers at Sport Direct in Broadmead because they have the temerity to sell Puma footwear which sponsors the Israeli Football Association. Naturally, I respect the rights of folk to protest things with which they disagree, but the Football Association of the only liberal democracy in the Middle East? Then there are Kill the Old Bill protestors seeing if there are any police vehicles to torch, anti Bristol Airport people trying to stop me going on holiday, along with Uncle Tom Cobbly and all.
The reason I am half-expecting an anti-Thatchers cider protest is because of a group called Countering Colston which wants everyone to stop drinking Thatchers cider because its director Martin Thatcher is a member of the Merchant Venturers, which has distant links to slave trading. Now I am not supporter of the Merchant Venturers, not least because I am not rich or interested enough to join them, but I am not entirely sure how Mr Thatcher is somehow promoting and supporting slavery which, to the best of my knowledge has not been a big thing in Bristol for some time. I just wonder of Countering Colston, whoever they are, might consider turning their attention to modern slavery which is still very much with us. In any event, I’ve done my bit by enjoying a couple of pints of Thatchers Gold in my local last night and buying some for our weekly Morrisons shop.
By the time I get into town, which will be sometime in the mid afternoon, I expect that the demonstrators have returned to their homes in Clifton and of course Stokes Croft and I shall be able to buy my Pumas and drink my Thatchers in relative peace. In Bristol’s city centre these days, with its weekly 57 varieties of protests, peace is a rare commodity. I might organise a protest against the protestors.
