Here we are a week and half after the great November 30 strikes. Working in the private sector I have little interest in it. I pay my tax, I pay my private pension and I pay for public sector pensions…hmm, I have the right to feel peeved by this. Yet I didn’t say this on November 30. No, it was my birthday and I had better things to do. In a stroke of genius the strikes didn’t affect me at all. Or they didn’t matter at all. Yet they did in a way. On that day my mother, who has served the public of this country for more than 40 years, was abused by idiotic little witches who would normally have been at school. Leaving the job she loved, my mother retired, grew bored and picked up a job serving the public again. She has been applauded for this work. Doing her job my mother was minding her own business but was called a variety of names by a group of female youths. The milder taunts were “shouldn’t you be retired you old f*****”. The more serious were death threats. It wasn’t something that was over in ten minutes. She has never been treated like this in all her years of work. Wasn’t November 30 a revelation.