The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post
The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post -
Comedian Phil Evans is from Ammanford. He is known as the man who puts the ‘cwtsh’ into comedy.
Gather around, form a huddle; I’m about to reveal just how shallow a human being I am.
I wasn’t always shallow. For many years, I was deep. So deep, I often gave myself ‘The Bends’ if I stood up too quickly.
I’d read two national newspapers a day from cover to cover...and all the pages in-between.
I was up-to-date with political news; the sex scandals and socialite shenanigans; the latest royal gossip and celebrity news. I absorbed all the weekly reviews of new books, plays and films; I read the sports pages, the financial pages, the medical pages....even those irresistible ads for stylish, rust-coloured, corduroy trousers, delivered direct to you from the factory.
In short, I was well-informed.
And, what’s more, I was the proud owner of 12 pairs of rust-coloured cords.
Of course, the South Wales Evening Post is something of a Bible in our house, to be consulted on an almost hourly basis as a source of reference, news, what’s on schedules, advertising and other information.
But, I confess national newspapers are a different story and about two years ago I found I was only skimming through one national newspaper and barely looking at the other.
It seemed to me that the terrible tragedies and appalling crimes I read about were becoming so frequent and so (I hate to say it) commonplace, that they ceased to be shocking.
I didn’t feel less compassionate towards the unfortunate people who were going through these ordeals and I’d often contribute to the charities that were quickly set up to help each crisis.
But after decades of reading the ‘papers’, I was up to my neck in reports of man’s continuous inhumanity to man.
It was getting to be an assault on the senses and I thought that, unless I stopped reading every minute detail contained within each report (sensitive soul that I am), I was in danger of losing my faith in humanity . . . and maybe losing my mind, too.
Whether I’m currently a few marbles short of the full set is not for me to judge, by the way.
I’d been reading newspapers since the days when my dad would come home from work, hand me his paper and I’d turn to the cartoon strips.
As I grew up, newspapers informed me about wars, famines and disasters, as well as terrorist attacks, murders, assaults...and a 1001 other heinous crimes that man is capable of carrying out.
I needn’t mention specific world tragedies that have occurred since 2001 or name those high-profile people who got away with wicked crimes for decades.
I don’t need to name the countries who hate each other so much they’d rather launch rocket attacks on each other than reach a peace settlement.
It’s easier to press a button that sends a rocket to destroy a school than to sit down and face your enemy and, using tact and diplomacy, coolly discuss why both of you need a good slapping for causing so much unnecessary bloodshed.
Personally, I don’t care about the religious side of their arguments and the colour, upbringing or background of the perpetrators matter not one jot. The simple fact of the matter is that all of us have a right to live in peace. And no-one has the right to shoot, bomb or maim us.
Anyone who abuses, tortures and kills in the name of their God or country is clearly a terrible human being.
Read any newspaper any day of the week and you’re bound to come to the conclusion that the world has gone mad.
Instead of living in the gleaming, pristine 21st-Century imagined by science-fiction writers, it’s a bloody – and I do mean bloody – mess.
Okay, scientists are discovering treatments and cures for illnesses and conditions that once killed so many. But at the same time we’re unable to travel on planes without stringent security checks.
Solving the world’s problems is not some Utopian dream. It’s achievable through education, compassion and strong leadership. But what drives me nuts is that the people with real power – the politicians, the military, world leaders, the financiers, oligarchs, global media moguls - who could all kick some serious ass and sort things out if they had the will - don’t seem to be that interested in creating strategies that could solve the world’s problems.
I consider such collective apathy as big a tragedy as the next horror that’s waiting to fill the front pages.
OK, rant over. I will be back with something more light-hearted next week.
Promise!
--------
Let’s face facts. The Welsh can be a strange and comical nation.
But, we are one of the UK’s best exports. We get on with everyone and are welcome nearly all over the world.
Yes, us Welsh folk are amazing (unless you are from Rhyl, of course).
We are also blessed in living in a country that has so much green landscape.
Apparently, it has something to do with the rain.
Rain is one of the things we Welsh do better than anybody else.
The recent heatwave hiccup has, however, got me worried.
Any day now we are going to be told that a hosepipe ban is imminent.
Mark my words: A few more summers like this and we’ll all be acting like Italians.
But what are we doing with all that rain water we have?
Clearly we don't know how to hang on to it or store it efficiently.
And remember, the Government solution to any problem is usually at least as bad as the problem.
Just sayin’
----------------
Last week, I found myself addressing a lunch for the long-established Jenkins Bakery family firm.
I was the guest speaker at the company’s annual long service celebration lunch at the Stradey Park Hotel, Llanelli.
It was refreshing to see the way the firm rewarded staff loyalty - nearly 70 of the firm’s 300 employees have been with the company more than 10 years. A select band of employees have chalked up more than 30 years’ service.
Loyalty is a two-way street and I got the impression both employees and employers valued their long-standing relationships.
More than 50 of the 70 long service employees were at the lunch, where the women outnumbered the men by a considerable margin.
Women are often a mystery to me, but I am lucky in that my appearance is usually enough to make them laugh.
One of the great mysteries to me about women is the fact that they can pour hot wax on their legs, rip the hair out by the roots - and, yet, they can still be afraid of a spider.
----------
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales
Gather around, form a huddle; I’m about to reveal just how shallow a human being I am.
I wasn’t always shallow. For many years, I was deep. So deep, I often gave myself ‘The Bends’ if I stood up too quickly.
I’d read two national newspapers a day from cover to cover...and all the pages in-between.
I was up-to-date with political news; the sex scandals and socialite shenanigans; the latest royal gossip and celebrity news. I absorbed all the weekly reviews of new books, plays and films; I read the sports pages, the financial pages, the medical pages....even those irresistible ads for stylish, rust-coloured, corduroy trousers, delivered direct to you from the factory.
In short, I was well-informed.
And, what’s more, I was the proud owner of 12 pairs of rust-coloured cords.
Of course, the South Wales Evening Post is something of a Bible in our house, to be consulted on an almost hourly basis as a source of reference, news, what’s on schedules, advertising and other information.
But, I confess national newspapers are a different story and about two years ago I found I was only skimming through one national newspaper and barely looking at the other.
It seemed to me that the terrible tragedies and appalling crimes I read about were becoming so frequent and so (I hate to say it) commonplace, that they ceased to be shocking.
I didn’t feel less compassionate towards the unfortunate people who were going through these ordeals and I’d often contribute to the charities that were quickly set up to help each crisis.
But after decades of reading the ‘papers’, I was up to my neck in reports of man’s continuous inhumanity to man.
It was getting to be an assault on the senses and I thought that, unless I stopped reading every minute detail contained within each report (sensitive soul that I am), I was in danger of losing my faith in humanity . . . and maybe losing my mind, too.
Whether I’m currently a few marbles short of the full set is not for me to judge, by the way.
I’d been reading newspapers since the days when my dad would come home from work, hand me his paper and I’d turn to the cartoon strips.
As I grew up, newspapers informed me about wars, famines and disasters, as well as terrorist attacks, murders, assaults...and a 1001 other heinous crimes that man is capable of carrying out.
I needn’t mention specific world tragedies that have occurred since 2001 or name those high-profile people who got away with wicked crimes for decades.
I don’t need to name the countries who hate each other so much they’d rather launch rocket attacks on each other than reach a peace settlement.
It’s easier to press a button that sends a rocket to destroy a school than to sit down and face your enemy and, using tact and diplomacy, coolly discuss why both of you need a good slapping for causing so much unnecessary bloodshed.
Personally, I don’t care about the religious side of their arguments and the colour, upbringing or background of the perpetrators matter not one jot. The simple fact of the matter is that all of us have a right to live in peace. And no-one has the right to shoot, bomb or maim us.
Anyone who abuses, tortures and kills in the name of their God or country is clearly a terrible human being.
Read any newspaper any day of the week and you’re bound to come to the conclusion that the world has gone mad.
Instead of living in the gleaming, pristine 21st-Century imagined by science-fiction writers, it’s a bloody – and I do mean bloody – mess.
Okay, scientists are discovering treatments and cures for illnesses and conditions that once killed so many. But at the same time we’re unable to travel on planes without stringent security checks.
Solving the world’s problems is not some Utopian dream. It’s achievable through education, compassion and strong leadership. But what drives me nuts is that the people with real power – the politicians, the military, world leaders, the financiers, oligarchs, global media moguls - who could all kick some serious ass and sort things out if they had the will - don’t seem to be that interested in creating strategies that could solve the world’s problems.
I consider such collective apathy as big a tragedy as the next horror that’s waiting to fill the front pages.
OK, rant over. I will be back with something more light-hearted next week.
Promise!
--------
Let’s face facts. The Welsh can be a strange and comical nation.
But, we are one of the UK’s best exports. We get on with everyone and are welcome nearly all over the world.
Yes, us Welsh folk are amazing (unless you are from Rhyl, of course).
We are also blessed in living in a country that has so much green landscape.
Apparently, it has something to do with the rain.
Rain is one of the things we Welsh do better than anybody else.
The recent heatwave hiccup has, however, got me worried.
Any day now we are going to be told that a hosepipe ban is imminent.
Mark my words: A few more summers like this and we’ll all be acting like Italians.
But what are we doing with all that rain water we have?
Clearly we don't know how to hang on to it or store it efficiently.
And remember, the Government solution to any problem is usually at least as bad as the problem.
Just sayin’
----------------
Last week, I found myself addressing a lunch for the long-established Jenkins Bakery family firm.
I was the guest speaker at the company’s annual long service celebration lunch at the Stradey Park Hotel, Llanelli.
It was refreshing to see the way the firm rewarded staff loyalty - nearly 70 of the firm’s 300 employees have been with the company more than 10 years. A select band of employees have chalked up more than 30 years’ service.
Loyalty is a two-way street and I got the impression both employees and employers valued their long-standing relationships.
More than 50 of the 70 long service employees were at the lunch, where the women outnumbered the men by a considerable margin.
Women are often a mystery to me, but I am lucky in that my appearance is usually enough to make them laugh.
One of the great mysteries to me about women is the fact that they can pour hot wax on their legs, rip the hair out by the roots - and, yet, they can still be afraid of a spider.
----------
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales
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