OK, here it is. The LOACAACs. My punt at an entirely fictional honours list for this year. A little time capsule to be reviewed around this time next year to see if absolutely any of it was less that utter blather. It would be nice if one or two stood a snowball’s of making it. It’s a bit like BBC Radio 4 Woman’s Hour’s Power List – but not taken very seriously. What do they get? Our affection and respect. Here goes, let’s recommend our own national treasures:
- Anyone from somewhere outside of Watford, preferably a lovely, warm, friendly and caring dinner lady from a state school. Not afraid to cuddle and comfort a distressed child, or notice a very thin one – and has the courage to find out more about why they’re so hungry at school. That’s a real Lady.
- Anyone who’s made someone who’s dropped litter pick it up and bin it without it escalating into violence
- Any old person who has actually had the humility and respect for others to say, ‘that’s it Marjorie, here are the keys to the car. Hide them or sell the car, I’m not going to drive again. I can’t see over the steering wheel and I keep forgetting what it’s for.’
- Kids who read – all of them.
- Beautiful people who realise and accept that how you look is an accident of birth; you don’t earn it and it doesn’t make you any better or worse than anyone else.
- Anyone who likes a sausage dog, especially those wiry-haired ones with the eyebrows, and preferably wearing little polo neck jumpers.
- Whoever invented Lycra. Millions of women everywhere owe you a debt of gratitude. Just think, magic knickers (got my wedding dress trapped in mine on the big day – whipped up like a roller blind. Chief bridesmaid had to step into the ladies’ cubicle I was occupying to help unravel me. Believe me, it was nothing like Cleopatra being delivered to her lover in a rolled up carpet).
- A huge honking great gong for anyone who comes up with a red carpet disasters gallery of shame for the fashion pundits who do the awards evenings’ frock-bitching.
- Anyone who’s decided against a Scouse Brow or a tattoo
- Anyone who’s still sticking to the diet, no-smoking or whatever pledge they made on January 1 2015.
Just an additional extra little appeal – if we could uncover some new singing talent that doesn’t force their voices to ‘crack’ with fake emotion on every line of the whiny ballad they’re grating their way through, I’d be proper chuffed.
Feel free to nominate someone for a LOACAAC – go on, you know you want to…