Well what goes up must come down, and just like the Scoresby Monument, Colin’s Column has had its time.
Exhausted from seven months of thorough whinging I am spent, and I have decided to call it a day.
Seeing my column in full glorious colour each week has been fun, some people have loved it, some people have hated it. The reaction that people have to one person’s opinion can be extraordinary at times, ranging from our beloved MP saying that I called him ‘dead eyed’ because he voted against gay marriage (I didn’t, I said it because he has dead eyes, I don’t want to marry him anyway), to a personal thank you from staff at York Potash who appreciated a rare positive view from someone.
Good and bad reviews aside, it is only my opinion and I hope at least some of my points made you smile, I’m sure everyone has found themselves in at least one similar situation in town?
A tongue in cheek view at the frustrations and delights of living in Whitby town centre was all that I wanted to do, tip toeing around dog poo, dodging a seagull burger snatch and skipping through mountains of August litter are topics of conversation that I hear over the bar every single day, small matters but important to our town quality of life and to our small local economy.
Not having a hospital to push the cod heads of tomorrow out into Whitby, and a part time ambulance service are more serious matters that hopefully will be reviewed over time, and of course the parking in Whitby – no matter how much you enjoyed my column, everyone has to agree that the crazy paving approach to zoning our lives was atrocious, and hopefully that idea has been permanently forgotten.
Of course there were nice points raised too, such as the extra time we all get to appreciate how beautiful Whitby is when we are stuck behind a slow walking family ‘clothes-lining’ their way across the bridge or down Sandgate, and the fantastic community spirit we saw during the Christmas market, the flood, and throughout all of our town events.
For me, just like a Whitby hotel room over a Goth Weekend, a seven-month minimum feels right’ and I wouldn’t want to start repeating myself.
So I will leave you with this – we are lucky to have Whitby, and Whitby is lucky to have us.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.