End September 2006

Stupid people. What is it with stupid people. Why are there so many of them who think they are smart, who think they are the clever ones, that have life figured out, life sorted and the rest of us are fit for their ridicule and eye rolling derision? And why, why when you've made a remark that is hinting at a joke, but not stating the bleeding obvious, do they do just that and present it to you with a flourish as if they've just invented the light bulb?

Stupid people. A lot of stupid people work in the caring professions. Now, I know that's not a nice thing to say, but there you go, I'm not a nice person - as it turns out. But, if they weren't stupid they wouldn't be doing the job, they'd have a better paid job. If you leave school with no qualifications you can go and work in McD's or you can help old folk on and off the lav. Personally I'd be brushing up on my "Do you want fries with that" as I left the school gates rather than do the job, but that's me and - as it turns out - I'm not a nice person.

Don't get me wrong, there are some wonderful individuals who work in the caring professions, who really do care, who are doing the job because they like working with old people, because it gives them a sense of pride, of worth, of putting something back to look after old people in their last days and to ensure they maintain as much dignity as possible. But, there are many, many more who do the job because it pays a bit better than McD's and you get public sympathy "I don't know how you do it! You must be so strong to be able not to take it home, not to get depressed!". They are not strong, they're just unimaginative, unempathetic. Stupid. And they treat me as if I'm stupid, worse they treat my father as if he's stupid. But then that's me and - as it turns out - I'm not a nice person.

He's not stupid, he's not deaf. He doesn't need his hair ruffled and to be told he's a good boy. He's not stupid, he'd not deaf and he's not a dog. No, I'm not a nice person because today I want to punch the staff, every time one of them shoutingly asks him if he wants a cup of tea.

"Do you want a nice cup of tea? I say, Do you want a nice cup of tea?" - no response - "I'll get you a nice cup of tea, and a nice wee bit walnut loaf".

Dad - very clearly - "I don't like nuts".

"What's that? You do, you like cake, a wee bit cake and a nice cup of tea, just what the doctor ordered. Wish I could spend my days having a wee sit down and getting brought tea and cake, eh? I say It's no a bad life, waited on hand and foot - eh, eh? I wishh I could spend my days having a wee rest and a cuppa!".

No you don't. You don't wish for this life. No-one could ever wish for this life. And he doesn't like nuts.

"I don't like nuts - do I?" my Dad asks me. "No Dad, you're right, you don't". He looks pleased, pleased to have remembered a bit of himself. But he eats the cake.

As I drive away, I know it's not the staff member's fault, it's how they deal with what they see day in and day out. And I know they're not stupid. I feel humbled and ashamed that I'm so judgemental. No - as it turns out - I'm not a nice person.