Letter: Whatever happened to the GREAT Britain we were brought up in?
Oh to sit on a bus in quiet contemplation without being subjected to the rantings of some mobile phone user who seems to think that the whole world has a right to be a party to every single aspect of his private life, usually delivered at an exceedingly loud volume interspersed with a liberal amount of expletives amid inordinate (although perhaps not for these days) usage of the word 'like'.
Oh to walk into a public house and have to wait for less than 10 minutes in order for the bar person to drag themselves away from their smartphone to deign to serve.
Oh to walk through town without hearing 'got any spare change, mate?' a dozen times, and oh! to have the freedom to say what one truly feels about the world without constantly being accused (usually by the young generation) of being either a racist, sexist, a homophobe, an Islamophobe, a misogynist, a fascist, or without someone taking gross offence at the slightest opinion.
And oh!! for the country I was brought up in. The one I live in now certainly isn't the Great Britain I used to know.
Arthur Sanderson, age 83,
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