Rockdale Council in Sydney, Australia has rolled out the big guns in dealing with young hooligans hanging about car parks. In what can only be called the nuclear option, the council is piping in Barry Manilow tracks over the tannoys in hopes of driving the youths away-- also just about everyone else who doesn't have a fondness for blue rinse, I suspect.
When I was living in Northamptonshire, there was a biker's pub that was typical for its British variety in having a) no more than three motorbikes in front of it no matter how packed it was, and b) a juke box crammed with heavy metal. Oddly enough, the only exception on the box was one Barry Manilow selection that was informally dubbed "the suicide button."
I haven't been in that pub in twenty years and doubt if I'd be welcome there even today. Part of the reason is that last time I stuck out like a sore thumb with my blue raincoat in that sea of leather, but mainly because the last time I was there my friends and I stuffed the juke box with coins, hit that Manilow button a dozen times, and then ran like hell.
No comments:
Post a Comment