It's half past the crack of an ungodly hour and I'm jarred awake by the blaring sound of what seems to be a mastodon desperate for companionship of the carnal kind.
In fact, it's Wednesday and, therefore, what I'm hearing is the sound of the gas-truck's air-horn, sounding off at a great many decibels in order to ensure that the dimmest of dim householders remembers that a) it's Wednesday and therefore gas-delivery day and b) if they want gas delivered, they should dispose themselves appropriately.
I mean, it's not as if it's a different day every week and so you need some sort of audible signal in order to inform the populace at large that the gas-man cometh: you could almost set your watch and calendar against these guys, Wednesday, crack of dawn.
It need hardly be said that this cacophony is not something that seems overly to perturb Their Worships the Mayors (I have to use the plural, because I don't know if the darn truck is in Balzan or Lija) because it has carried on now for years without anything being done about it. I know not why Their Worships aren't annoyed by the noise.
It could be that they are such serene types that they sleep the sleep of the just and nothing can disturb them. Somehow, this does not jump out and grab me by the throat as the most obvious reason.
It could be that they're up and about already, ensuring that the highways and byways of two-thirds of the Three Villages are nice and neat and safe for the citizenry and, therefore, they don't notice the racket, being all bright and bushy-tailed already. Again, this is not the answer that springs most readily to mind, especially since "nice and neat" are not really adjectives that adjoin themselves easily to the names of the villages.
It could also be that, frankly, m'dear, they don't give much of a tinker's cuss, it being unrealistic to expect wardens to be up and about raising revenue for the council at this time of the morning. Later in the day, sure, no problem, parking tickets are slapped on windscreens with gay abandon, whether or not obstructions are being caused and whether or not it's reasonable to point out that with their ludicrous traffic-management arrangements, our beloved councils have reduced parking spaces available for us humble residents rather than made it easier for us to park.
Do you get the impression that I am less than gob-smacked with our local councils? I do not, in fact, prostrate myself in awe at the way they serve their citizens, to be sure, though I have to say that this is not an experience that is necessarily the same in every locality. For instance, in Xagħra, where I spend quite a bit of time, I get the impression that things are done with an eye to being of service to the residents, rather than t'other way round.
Oh well, I suppose that rant was provoked by the sheer disappointment of having heard, in the dark watches of the night, that Malta's entry to the Eurovision Song Contest hadn't made it through to the final night, to be held the evening when this sees the light of day.
I know I've said this pretty much every year, but please, people, can we get a collective life and stop making such a fuss about this ludicrous event? Sure, fine, let the young singers who want to compete trot along and enjoy themselves and chuck some money at it, an'all, but do we have to dedicate so much time and energy to analysing the thing to death?
You can get good, in fact, excellent, music on telly, you know, say by tuning to Channel 512 on Melita.
While that Garrett person was doing strange things with the bird-man, there was Carlos Santana jamming with Steve Winwood.
If you don't know who they are, stick to Eurovision and have fun witnessing hard-nosed businesswomen digging their claws into what they call their protégés, though precisely what they hope to achieve by associating themselves with mediocrity is not immediately apparent.
If I might make so bold, wouldn't it be of greater service to the world of music if they dedicated their energy towards getting iTunes to open up to Malta?
Ah, but I forget, they wouldn't be able to charge such princely sums for their CDs if that happened, now would they?
No matter, there's always the 'net, for online shopping and less completely kosher activities: they can't whine, they've had it good for many, many years.
The World's Greatest Books (Abridged) is still playing as you read this: try to get in, it's worth the effort.
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