FOR those who crave immortality what better way to be remembered by generations to come than to utter a collection of words so memorable that they rank among the greatest quotations from history?

If we want to enrich our language and impress others with our knowledge a quick Google will in an instance produce a seemingly endless list of quotes on every conceivable subject. There are many famous figures from history that are remembered today for something they said rather than what they did.

Opening your mouth and uttering a few words can occasionally go monumentally wrong. You know what you want to say but once you get going the words don’t quite come out as expected or, in total innocence, you fail miserably to convey the true meaning. Such situations are the ultimate pitfall of public figures, in particular politicians. Once something has been said and recorded it cannot be undone no mater how articulate you are. More often than not the subsequent attempts to save face simply make matters worse.

Take the recent faux pas from the former Chief Secretary to the UK Treasury, Liam Byrne, who in the tradition of British government hand-overs left his successor a note. When the new incumbent – the equally hapless David Laws – arrived at his desk he found a hand-written note wishing him luck but advising that there was nothing left in the public purse. Although true it was meant to be taken lightheartedly but, nonetheless, backfired hugely on Mr Byrne.

The Constable of St Mary, Juliette Gallichan, must be kicking herself in light of her justification for a tea lady to pander to the refreshment needs of the inmates of Charlie Chuckle’s Laughter Factory. A tea lady (or man) was required, she said, because politicians couldn’t wait around for a kettle to boil.

If there was ever a comment that sums up politicians’ over-inflated egos and sense of self-importance then that one takes the biscuit, ranking alongside Marie-Antoinette’s observation that if the starving peasants had no bread to eat then they could turn to cake for sustenance.

What other mundane tasks are beneath our beloved politicians? In addition to advertising not just for a run of the mill tea person but a ‘refreshment assistant’, might they also require a tuck shop or a coolie to sit quietly in the corner of the chamber on hot days, pulling the cord of a punkah wallah? What about a cocktail bar and selection of canapés for late sittings? Vodka martinis and goujons of brill in tempura batter dipped in garlic mayonnaise would no doubt go down a treat.

Anyone who has lived on this increasingly self-important rock for the past decade or so doesn’t need such a barmy justification for yet another utterly pointless public post to realise that States Members have lost touch with reality. Moreover, they are so far detached from we mere mortals that they might as well be on the moon.

To qualify as a refreshment assistant to the inmates, the successful candidate has to combine the tasks of the below stairs cast of Upstairs Downstairs.

Not only is she or he expected to load a trolley and a dishwasher, stock a fridge and keep state secrets, the assistant must also monitor the supply of biscuits paid for by the taxpayer, while at all times remembering if each Member prefers tea or coffee; jammy dodgers or bourbons!
Extensive flexibility is also demanded especially when it comes to suspending reality.

Just why, when public employees are faced with compulsory redundancies and essential services are threatened with drastic cuts, do States Members require such a luxury as a paid servant to pander to their snacking needs?

Apparently a vending machine would cost the same as employing a refreshments dogsbody, so that prospect has been rejected, even though this quintessential British job has long been replaced by the mechanised process of producing hot drinks. How quaint that such an outdated position is still in vogue with the Laughter Factory.

Having taken a few minutes out of my equally busy life in the interests of research, I discovered that it takes three minutes 50 seconds to boil two litres of water in my very efficient Teutonic kettle. As it is a glass kettle I had the added enjoyment of watching the water bubble with increasing activity at it reached the temperature required to activate the automatic off switch. Being a woman, and thereby capable of multi-tasking, I also used the time to undertake a kitchen chore or two.

Given that both a tea person and a couple of vending machines are both likely come in a tad shy of £5,000 each year what is wrong with the inmates taking a flask to work?

Or they could run a kitty with each taking it in turns to be tea/coffee/biscuit monitors.

The minutes taken to boil a kettle pale into insignificance to the hours Islanders have spent over the past eight months stuck in traffic jams while Transport and Technical Services play with Victoria Avenue. If ever there was an example of public money being spent on a totally unnecessary example of public works then this is it.

When it comes to doing the final maths, just how many millions will it have cost to resurface a road that looked perfectly OK in the first place?

Talk about rearranging the deckchairs on the The Titanic especially when there isn’t an iceberg in sight!

As my nippy little Clio turbo took 20 minutes the other evening to crawl from Beaumont to Millbrook, I pondered on what other utterly pointless public works projects the States could turn its attention to next.

Repainting every yellow line lemon because yellow is just so yesterday’s colour?

Or what about sinking Route de la Libération underground to reconnect the ever-growing and equally pointless waterfront developments with the old town so when Islanders flock there in their expected thousands they won’t have to cross a road?

That is one five-year long traffic jam we can all look forward to being stuck in.