When I was a lad it wasn’t hard to spot a navvy. There was a uniform: heavy steel toe-capped leather boots, designed primarily to prevent the pneumatic drill from slicing a few toes off, (but also as a useful weapon of self defence against barracking bystanders who would pour ridicule on their time-wasting efforts), a well-worn white vest to cover an otherwise bare torso, the purpose of which I never quite understood and a knotted handkerchief to protect the balding pate from England’s piercing sun….or something. There was also, of course, the obligatory spade for leaning on and a vacuum flask and picnic box to ensure there was something to eat and drink during the long hours of standing around talking. For many, a packet of twenty and a windproof zippo lighter were also de rigeur.
I have been privileged over the past few months to have a real insight into the modern wardrobe for ‘traffic flow improvement operatives’ employed by the local council to make half a dozen junctions in our immediate environs rather safer for pedestrians, many of whom are either too young to comprehend the dangers of stepping off the kerb or too old (and therefore slow) to make it across to the other side before a white van looms into view intent on taking no prisoners. The work has involved making each corner of the junction stick a little further into the road and implanting some sturdy, but elegant stanchions. This means there have been temporary traffic lights on each junction for an average of about three months, as it’s only possible to do one corner at a time. The Council thoughtfully put up notices beforehand warning the local residents of what was happening, but nobody took it seriously as even those with minimal civil engineering experience knew it couldn’t possibly take that long….
However, we had not been issued with the “How to Make One Week’s Work Last a Month’ manual. According to which, it is clearly illegal to work for any longer than ten minutes in any sixty minute period. To ensure that the operatives don’t suffer undue hardship whilst standing around doing nothing, there is now a Welfare Unit. This is a large white van/minibus that’s fully kitted out with kettle, fridge, microwave, comfy seats and a hotline to the local Shop Steward just in case the extremely respectable and respectful locals finally tire of THE ‘TEMPORARY’ BLOODY TRAFFIC LIGHTS and take matters into their own hands. (Philosophical thought for the day. At what point does ‘temporary’ become ‘permanent’?!).
Anyway, back to the sartorial bit. The boots still seem to be the same, however the singlet has been replaced by large dayglo yellow jackets with a white fluorescent strip making them easily confused with aircraft handlers, traffic control officers or planning inspectors on a building site. The natty white hard hats which have replaced the knotted handkerchief, limit the confusion, these clearly being an essential safety precaution whilst using a shovel to dig up the road. The chances of a tree falling on their heads or a passing lorry driver opening his door at 30 mph must be quite considerable. Any possible concerns about their identity though are finally removed as they stand in groups of three of four for extended periods of time watching a colleague do all the hard work with that good old spade. The final change is that the Woodbines and Zippo have been replaced by one of those electronic fandangles than produce more steam than The Flying Scotsman. (I have just consulted the dictionary to ensure that I was using fandangle correctly. It seems it’s a ‘useless or purely ornamental thing”, so actually I got it wrong. I should’ve used that to describe the aforementioned operatives).
The good news is that it would appear that there are no junctions left to modify. The Welfare Unit and its indolent inhabitants can move on to pastures new. With those jackets and hard hats they could surely help out in the search for mysterious UFO’s at Gatwick, or rest up until required for traffic duty at Airborne in August. They must be exhausted poor loves.
P.S. Just had a seriously good afterthought…..they could practise their spadework in my garden!….?
ADayInTheStrifeOf 