Andy Richardson: 'B&Q re-opening has been cause for celebration'
There was a time when most people’s idea of hell was a visit to B&Q.
Men would fake injury to avoid their wives’ call; pretending to fall from ladders, shamming a hand bashed by a hammer or contracting a mystery illness in order to stay home. Not any more.
The recent re-opening of B&Q has been a cause for celebration. It is a spring treat, rivalling previous years’ visits to the safari park or beach. Whole households descend – obviously, remaining two metres apart from other customers – to marvel at rivets: “Dad, what’s a rivet?” They look enviously at cans of expanding foam and imagine their world becoming complete if only they could afford a monkey wrench. Like children goggling imported tat in a Christmas grotto; useless home knick knacks, tins of magnolia paint and easily-broken picture frames have become objects of desire.
They may be for some time. German Chancellor Angela Merkel recently cautioned that we are still at the beginning of the Covid-19 story. The former scientist who obtained a doctorate in quantum chemistry is right. While some watch our European neighbours enviously as they start to re-open small sections of their economies and imagine we’ll return to normality, others acknowledge this is the longest of long games.
It would help if English politicians included us in the national conversation, as leaders in other parts of Europe and the British Isles do. While socialists in Scotland and right wingers in Northern Ireland have outlined what ongoing physical distancing might look like, English politicians trot out the mantra that we must stay at home without allowing business to prepare.
It’s become counter-productive. We’re not kids, even if we behave that way when we visit B&Q. There is no fast-track back to the old normal. The new game in town is preventing a second wave and Europe remains at the centre of new cases of Covid-19.
Diaries provide a window into another world. Notifications that pop-up on phones or computers, reminding us of holidays, meetings, interviews or other events, are a reminder of a time that no longer exists.
Still, we have Twitter to amuse us. People have posted pictures of themselves aged 20, bragged about seeing bands before they became famous and are still laughing about last week’s Dr Trump press conference, when he suggested we might ingest disinfectant to cure Covid-19. Toilet Duck all round, please barman.
