Red Lines

Having just missed my bus by a few seconds - I swear the driver grinned as he pulled out - and the passenger in the front seat shrugged as if in apology - she only just caught it herself - I felt a little like this bloke is looking - I was hoping he would turn a little more toward me, so his bag was in full view - that is what caught the eye - it’s poppy time of year. I’m sure there is a Red line that I shouldn’t cross - and I have no objections to raising money for charity - but the poppy obsession seems to go beyond charity into some sort of national obsession - an obsession with WW2, and with past glory and ‘great Britain-ness - and it seems to get earlier every year. I saw a car with a massive poppy like a red nose on its radiator. I’m just a bit uncomfortable, that’s all - growing numbers of Union jacks and all that.