This week I cried when I read that Sara Payne's mother - grandma of murdered Sarah - had died suddenly from cancer at the age of 52. I wept too at the news that missing teenager Shafilea Ahmed, who had reportedly drunk bleach to avoid an arranged marriage, had been found murdered near a river in Cumbria. And, as a mum, I am still grieving for the brilliant young man who collapsed and died in Newcastle recently on his way home from school. Okay, I'm emotional by nature but if I didn't know any of these people personally, why should I choose to be involved in the grief that by rights belongs to others? According to the report by author Patrick West published this week on behalf of the Institute for the Study of Civil Society, I must be suffering from something called "conspicuous compassion," a condition that is becoming increasingly common in Britain. Apparently "joining in" with a good strong public display of sorrow - tears, flowers, ribbons, making shrines etc - makes us look good among our peers but has little to do with genuine feelings of grief. I am outraged, of course, since I would deny from the rooftops that my sadness is anything but sincere. Indeed, Mr West's assertion that Princess Diana is now "a mostly forgotten individual" and that we have moved on to other celebrities who have died since is an insult to someone who changed the way we behave as a nation. Would anyone seriously want to return to a time when stiff upper lip Britain controlled our heads and our hearts? Compare the Queen shaking hands with her little boy Charles on her return from a foreign trip with Diana, arms outstretched, greeting her sons on board Britannia that memorable time. Mr West is right about one thing. We have moved on. Girls hold hands with their friends walking down the street - and it doesn't mean they are lesbians. Men greet their male friends with a warm hug. Boys cry. Friends say hello - and goodbye - with kisses. If flowers appear outside a house where someone has died a violent or tragic death, it's not a case of communal mourning, more a mark of respect and remembrance. The Diana carpet of flowers was a wonder to behold, a symbol of love not of ostentatious florists. And the crowds who turned up at Soham weren't all there because they wanted a day out but rather because they felt they wanted to do something to show allegiance to what was a national tragedy. Some of us may seem to turn on the tears at the drop of a hat, Mr West. But a good cry and a bunch of flowers never hurt anyone. ********** Law flouted It's weeks since the law regarding mobile phones in cars was changed - and yet in the last few days I've seen at least six drivers using their phones while driving. The other day a lorry driver came zooming round a roundabout right in front of me, driving one-handed - while his other hand clutched his phone to his ear. How many prosecutions have there been since the new laws came into force? Why do people think they can just get away with flouting the law for the sake of a conversation on a mobile phone? And yes, it's probably because there seem to be so few police cars on patrol. A friend who travelled to Manchester and back the other day by car reports she didn't see one police car - but plenty of drivers of all ages - with phones clamped to their ears. ********** Piling stress on Gerard Houllier A television programme this week looked at the problem of stress in the workplace, making the point that tens of thousands of people are now suffering from what is undeniably a frightening condition, the root cause of which often goes unchecked. It's a shame Gerard Houllier wasn't one of the guinea pigs as it might have called a halt to the particularly vindictive campaign he is currently enduring to oust him from his job as Liverpool manager. I may well be black and white, through and through, but I can't help feeling sorry for the Frenchman. He seems to be having a really stressful time at the moment because some of the club's fans aren't happy with the team's performance. Graffiti on walls, letters to papers, hate mail and catcalls may well be a case of "sticks and stones". Certainly, it's fair to say that criticism practically goes with the territory in a fiercely competitive world where millions are at stake and every fan has an opinion But isn't it just a couple of years since M. Houllier returned to the game after major heart surgery knocked him for six months? Would the fans really feel happy if he collapsed again because of the persistent pressure he has been put under? You can see it now, can't you? Those who have been calling for his head will suddenly turn tail, act all sympathetic and blame the pressures of trying to stay in contention in what is now the super league of Premiership teams. It's a ludicrous situation. Anyway, it isn't Gerard Houllier who is failing to live up to inflated expectations. It's his team of players - who earn a lot more money than their boss. ********** Fashion is a load of pants On Thursday afternoon, I walked down Northumberland Street behind two young men each swinging posh rope-handle carrier bags from the most expensive menswear shops in town and sporting very trendy hairstyles. Their designer jeans were halfway down their backsides, exposing large areas of their underpants. This is the latest fashion for men, I am assured by my eldest son, who is sick and tired of me telling him to "pull your jeans up before they fall down." It competes with the girls whose low-slung jeans expose their sometimes flat, sometimes flabby tummies. It also explains why most young men these days walk like John Wayne after a day in the saddle - they are trying desperately to stop their pants sliding down to their knees. Sometimes, I know I sound increasingly like my mother
********** What a fuss about the Boat Race moving from the BBC to ITV. Does anybody really, really care? If you like to watch it, you'll watch it whatever channel it's on. If you've got better things to do with your time, you'll get on and do them. Unless you're a rower, a student at Oxford or Cambridge, a betting man or an outside broadcast employee, it has to be the biggest non-event of the year! ********** There's one good thing about the massive new M&S Lifestore at the MetroCentre which opened this week. It's so big the staff won't be able to stand around talking to each other. If there's one thing that gets my goat it is being served by sales assistants who talk inanely to each other all the time they are supposed to be serving you. They never even look up because they are too busy talking about what he said or what pub they have been to or where they are going three weeks on Wednesday or worse, what they have eaten for their lunch or having for their tea. I don't want to know. I want to be served by someone who will certainly look at me and maybe even smile while handing me my purchase. ********** Chinese whispers are one thing but not what you'd expect from an IT department. Hence, the bemused look on a colleague's face the other morning when one of the IT gurus came to congratulate her on her new job in Finland and said he'd always wanted to visit the country. She's actually going to Findus at Longbenton! ********** Remember Marc, the little boy who told his mum he didn't want to go to church any more because Jesus was never there when he got there? Well, last Sunday, as they were leaving church, the priest happened to hand his mum a copy of the Catholic Herald. Marc waited till they were out of earshot. "Mum," he said. "Why did Jesus give you the paper?" | 
