This is Liverpool. Pass it on.
This week came the news that a production company have come up with idea of a reality television show about the people of Liverpool, imaginatively entitled This Is Liverpool.
Oh, that’s a good idea,” I didn’t think when I saw the much watched trailer about the series on YouTube, full of bad language and a nicked hub cap shy of every stereotype imaginable.
Hmm, I thought. That isn’t the Liverpool I know. But what is the Liverpool I know?
On Tuesday nights, I go to a writing workshop in a café in Liverpool city centre. I get the bus from the top of my road (it’s a bit like a taxi!) into town. On Tuesday evening I stood at the bus stop as usual, waiting for the bus. I noticed a lonely Saveaway Merseyside bus ticket lodged into the frame of the bus timetable. It was dated for Tuesday, 25th February, that very day. There’s nothing spectacular in that, you yawn. Please, stay with me.
A bus ticket, at a bus stop. It’s nothing spectacular. Or is it? On Merseyside, it’s seen as the thing to do that when you’ve completed your train or bus journey for the day you leave behind you ticket for someone else to use. Everybody does it. It’s kind, considerate, generous, big hearted. People could quite easily think “sod it, I’ve paid £4.80 for that, why should some other bugger have it?” but they don’t. They pass it on.
That to me, sums up Liverpool, not some silly telly programme. Pass it on.
Read the first chapter of my crime novel Blood Money here