It seems the people of York are never satisfied. They complain about a lack of shops, yet when it comes to actually shopping, they'd rather head to the out-of-town retail parks.
Well, well, well. According to the sages of Facebook, York has apparently turned into a barren wasteland devoid of any shops. "What high street?" cries Linda Baker, undoubtedly peering through the wrong end of a kaleidoscope as she laments the absence of every shop she didn't bother to visit. Another voice in the void declares, "It’s rubbish there’s no shops in town anymore especially clothes shops." Ah yes, because York is now just one big, empty street with tumbleweeds and the occasional tourist wondering where all the shops went.
This news shocked me, to say the least. Because the last time I wandered through York, it was teeming with shops of every stripe. But no, according to Toby on Facebook, he avoids town unless he needs something from Barnitts the tool shop. "I can get everything else I need from the 3 massive out of town retail parks," he proclaims with a shrug emoji. Right, Toby. Because nothing says "I support local business" like driving to the edge of civilisation to buy your socks and spanners.
But let's dissect this for a moment. How is it York's problem that Toby and his ilk would rather stay home, avoiding everyone, and buying only tools? Is it really our city's fault that they don't have the vision or imagination to explore the numerous independent shops dotted all around? Not in the slightest. This is just another symptom of people’s tendency to complain about anything they think is trendy to whine about.
When it comes to York, these same tired arguments are parroted by the same middle-aged Facebook warriors, with no actual truth behind them. "We need less coffee shops and tourist shops and more shops for local people," says Nigel. I'm sorry, Nigel, but do local people not enjoy coffee shops? Are they reserved exclusively for Chinese tourists and hen parties, leaving baffled residents to sip their instant coffee at home?
And what exactly is a "local shop" for "local people"? It's like they want their very own 'League of Gentlemen' experience, a dark and dreary shack where only the initiated may enter. "This is a local shop for local people," the mad shop owner would decry, eyeing strangers with suspicion. "We'll have no trouble here!" Clearly, this is the sort of shopping experience our Facebook friends desire. God forbid they step into a modern, well-lit store with helpful staff and a wide range of products. No, they'd prefer their putrid little pits that exclude everyone who wasn't born on the back of a truck in 1926, no further than Malton.
Maybe it's me who's out of touch. Perhaps I've been swept away by the tide of modernity and no longer understand the real spirit of the people. But if we're going to complain, let's complain about things that actually matter, like the potholes and the state of public toilets.
York's shops are there, vibrant and varied, if only you'd take the time to notice. So, to the critics, I say this: put down your pitchforks, step away from the retail parks, and take a wander through your own high street. You might be surprised by what you find.
So clever and so very true!