We got our Official Warning from the TV Licensing division the other day. We’ve been getting similar warnings for almost a year now, most of which say variations on the theme, “you don’t have a TV license, and since we assume you must own a television, that means you’re breaking the law, and we’re coming to get you.” But this one, apparently, is the mother of all warnings, the Real Thing. “This is an official warning that the TV Licensing Enforcement Division will be proceeding with a full investigation of the above address,” it starts.
Surely, I think, surely, the government has better things to do. The simple fact is that we have been ignoring these warnings because we are not, in fact, breaking the law. We do not own a television, nor do we “watch or record TV programmes as they are shown on TV” on any kind of device. But we’ve been amused by the TV Licensing divison’s insistance that we’re harboring secret television devices. The Man finally called them up to tell them to please stop sending their letters; someone is going to come to our house to make sure we’re not lying, apparently. This makes us giggle.
In other news, this, though written back in September, is particularly relevent today. Firstly because it made us laugh, but secondly because I have discovered an alarming derth of socks in my wardrobe. Those that I am still in possession of–mostly holey or unravelling–are never in pairs, EVER. I don’t know where they go, but I do know that underneath my boots I’m wearing two completely different kinds of thick wool hiking socks.
And finally, this from Tim Dowling in the Guardian’s Saturday magazine: “I file through a mental list of things I have forgotten to worry about.” I find Dowling especially likeable, but never more than today, when The Man, discovering this quote, tapped me on the shoulder and simply pointed. Point, as they say, taken.