Express & Star

Peter Rhodes: Whatever happened to Teddy boys?

PETER RHODES on pushy pensioners, a new headmistress and the arrival of internet doctors.

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A NEW Government, a whiff of recession, time to cut back on pointless vanity projects. Has there ever been a better time to take the unloved and unnecessary HS2 into a field and bang in on the head?

PASSENGERS have complained about the behaviour of pensioners armed with bus passes who are barging on board the Purbeck Breezer bus service in Dorset. "One pushed past and almost knocked my 10-year-old over," complained a local mother. Well, what do we expect of senior citizens? We may like to think of pensioners as the salt of the earth who endured two world wars, but that generation has passed into history. Do the sums. If you are barged aside by a 70-something bloke, there's a fair chance that in the 1950s he was a Teddy boy.

WITH a change of occupant in Downing Street, what will become of The Cameron Free School? This is Private Eye magazine's fictional place of learning where the traumas of government are acted out in the assembly hall, medical centre and gym. In the latest edition the Headmaster, Mr Cameron, has just lost the debate on the subject: "This House believes the Headmaster is right about everything." The headmaster's departure ends with his upbeat message "For the first time in ages I don't have to go on holiday to bloody Cornwall." We look forward to Mrs May's arrival in the head's study.

THE atrocity in Nice shows how very easy it is to create carnage in a crowded city. You don't need a dirty bomb, a hijacked airliner or even a suicide vest. All it takes is a lorry. If our European societies were riddled with thousands of Islamist fanatics as some experts claim, there would be massacres like this on a daily basis. Nothing can ease the anguish of the bereaved but the fact that such outrages are still so rare should give us hope.

NOT much shocks me on telly but I was surprised the other night to see an advert for an online health service. For a few quid a qualified GP will conduct a video consultation, diagnose your problem and email you a prescription.. Although they are coy about their charges, these cyber-docs have clearly spotted a market among people who would rather pay for an appointment than queue for the free NHS sort in a busy surgery. It was bound to happen. Some professions lend themselves to the internet and are already either diving into cyberspace and making money or sitting on the sidelines and hoping it's all a bad dream. What makes online medical treatment different from, say, estate agency or genealogy is that it competes with the NHS which serves us all. Will this innovation spell the end of GP surgeries as we know them? Or will it be the salvation of the NHS, reducing patient demand by creaming off people who are prepared to pay? If I were a medical student about to become a GP I don't know whether I'd be thrilled at the prospect of going online or frightened to death at being left behind.

THE online doctors describe themselves as follows: "I am approachable, kind and friendly." "I'm passionate about making a difference to the wellbeing of my patients." "I look forward to helping you feel better very soon." "I prefer online consultation because patients are snotty, smelly and sometimes violent." I made up that last one.

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