Bureaucracy is often irritating, and petty bureaucracy can drive you crazy. Even the calmest of temperaments bridles in face of someone 'Dress'd in a little brief authority/Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd'. And the trouble is, brief authority often concerns itself pompously with the most trivial of causes.
Our neighbour's mother is 94. For the past five or so of her widowed years she has lived happily in a retirement home not far from her daughters and some of the grandchildren. She is a keen walker, does yoga, meditates, reads voluminously, gardens, and is a spirited, witty and intelligent conversationalist.
Recently, along with all the other residents, she moved into a smart, brand new 'facility' — as the administrators called it. Her new premises were bright and colourful, the garden area a bit spare and bland and the general atmosphere less free and easy than the 'old place'. This was because, along with the new paint and characterless exteriors had come a new manager and some additional senior staff.
One day, our neighbour's mother — we'll call her Pam — returned from a pre-lunch walk and, entering her still unfamiliar, paint-smelling hallway, felt that something was different. She looked across to the flowers in her vase and then to the books and papers on the table. All were as she had left them as far as she could tell.
She sat down in her armchair and then, from that different angle, she realised what had happened. Three photographs that had been on the living room wall — her five grandchildren, her daughters, and a picture of a family gathering at Christmas — were missing. Where they had been, the wall was blank and white.
Galvanised with the beginnings of indignation, Pam rang her eldest daughter, Alice our neighbour, and told her the story. A feisty youngster of 70, Alice rang the retirement village and asked to speak to the manager. 'I decided I'd start at the top,' she explained when she recounted the story.
Easier said than done, however. Alice could not get past the manager's secretary who was not sure when or even if her boss would be back that day and couldn't guarantee he would be available again during the week. As this was all happening on a Wednesday Alice suspected she was being massively fobbed off in the hope that everything would be forgotten by the following week or that she would