Don't upset Winnie the Pooh

When I complain and rant about things, it is generally over subjects worth complaining about. The state of the economy, thieving government ministers, illegal immigrants, stupid people, fat people, ginger people, pikeys, the ridiculousness of eco mentalists’ statements in the face of conflicting data, petrol prices, brainless chavs who live off benefits and, of course, Americans. These are subjects worth having a good old moan about. However, people who complain about trivial things like mild swearing on TV, silly adverts and flippant comments made by celebrities that are obviously meant as a joke should be taken outside and shot.

As someone who has written an entire book of complaints, I am well aware how hypocritical it is of me to have a go at people who complain. I’m also well aware of the irony of someone who has written a book of complaints complaining about people complaining.

I find it ironic that I wrote a 267 page book where I basically insulted fat people, old people, gay people, ginger people, stupid people and pretty much everyone else on the planet and I didn’t get a single complaint. Not one death threat. Not one Jihad. In fact all I’ve had are good comments. According to one of my top sellers, even a customer who was half French and half American loved it. The chances are if you are reading this, it means I probably did well enough to make a second book.

So anyway it seemed odd that after lambasting every vocal minority on the planet and the entire population of the United States of Lawsuits and Burgers, I then wrote a tiny column for another small publication full of people who obviously take themselves far too seriously and managed to start World War III and get lynched by the London Mafia.

The problem is that what is funny to one person may not be funny to another but this whole saga was over something pointless and really not worth complaining about. It was basically an embellishment of a quote provided to me and meant as a bit of light-hearted good humour. It turns out that some people don’t have a sense of humour and feel the need to cry to mummy and daddy because nasty man with microphone compared them to Winnie the Pooh.

I’m 30. I’m more than capable of standing up for myself. If my mum, dad and wife got involved in an argument and started fighting my battles for me I’d be too embarrassed to leave my house ever again. My dad still comes to most races with me and has, on very rare occasions, seen me get into an argument or disagreement with another driver as a result of an on-track incident inevitably caused by the other driver being a useless prick. He has never once got involved and I wouldn’t expect him to for a number of reasons. Firstly, as mentioned above, I am big enough and ugly enough to handle it myself. Secondly, any input he had would almost certainly be biased towards me. All my dad will do is quietly confirm my suspicion that the other driver is, in fact, a useless prick.

It’s also very unpleasant when friends, relatives or other team members get involved in a dispute between two drivers. A few years ago some idiot, who was barely even old enough to drive, basically drove me off the circuit. When I went up to him afterwards to have a quiet word in his ear and enquire whether or not he was inbred and couldn’t hold a steering wheel as a result of his webbed fingers, his dad and some other ugly fat chap barrelled up to me and started arguing on his behalf. It is not very nice being ganged up on like that and, being a rather sarcastic chap, this didn’t end well for them. To say I insulted the elder statesman would be an understatement and he didn’t speak to me for at least a year.

Karting dads have a reputation for this sort of behaviour. It’s the same in football too only more monosyllabically. This is why parents make poor managers. Their judgement is clouded by their love for their offspring. It’s almost certainly why Lewis Hamilton had to split with his old man a couple of years ago.

Of course the whole Karting dad thing is more prevalent in the younger categories and I had my first experience of this at an event I covered recently. I had to write articles about the cadet, junior and senior classes and had absolutely no idea who most of the people were. It wasn’t helped by the fact that I had to interview young children, which made me very nervous because I’m sure you can get arrested for that kind of thing.

My fear wasn’t helped any when I shoved my Dictaphone in the face of one of the cadet drivers to ask him about his qualifying lap and this pompous old tub of lard came running up to me demanding to know what the problem was. By the way he was hanging around I can only assume he was the kid’s father. Either that or he was just a weird loiterer with ulterior motives.

However, my biggest fear was to do with my writing style. When I first started writing Karting articles, I was very careful about what I said because I didn’t want to upset anybody. The problem with me is, despite being generally polite, I have a very good sense of humour and I’m also unbelievably sarcastic. As a result, it didn’t take long before this crept into my writing. I also feel it is best to say it like it is.

As it turns out, this has never been a problem because most people have a sense of humour too and can take what I say with a pinch of salt. Of course an unfamiliar championship full of people who don’t know me, children with pushy parents and drivers who take themselves far too seriously, I felt it might be in everyone’s best interest if I toned it down a bit. The only class I didn’t feel the need to do this with was ironically the seniors because I knew a handful of the drivers and I also felt adults would understand my humour and wouldn’t have their mummy and daddy hanging around to clip me round the ear.

Apparently humour is a dying art. Most people these days only find American sitcoms funny which is a sad state of affairs. Some people still feel the need to complain because they can’t take a joke and get offended by the most trivial things. The thing about people who complain about trivial things is they are stupid. The only good thing is that, being stupid, they are incapable of getting sarcasm because sarcasm requires a tiny bit of intellect. This means that when they complain about pointless things, they are fortunately unable to understand the blatant sarcasm in the re-write I am forced to do as a result of their stupidity. I think this is a victory for the intelligent people. I feel imbued with the power.