| mad musings of me (uk) | |
Tuesday, April 30Since I last posted I...
I may post tomorrow. If not, it will be when I am former-Councillor Gert.
Don't forget, May 2 is Local Elections in a lot of England. I want you to vote Labour...obviously...but even more importantly...Vote - and then make your councillors deliver on their promises. link Sunday, April 28 Friday Five on Sunday1. What are your hobbies? I don't suppose anybody answering this could honestly avoid the fact that they are into blog/journal things. My main hobby is politics. I also spend a lot of time appreciating food and wine. I'm also into football, music, TV and reading
2. Do you collect anything?As a child I collected postcards, then badges. My big one now is mugs - I have about one hundred and maybe from time to time I may show some of my favourites. I was in the Railway Bell pub at lunchtime today and was admiring their collection of miniature spirit bottles - I thought that was quite cool.
3. Is there a hobby you're interested in, but just don't have the time/money to do? I would be quite interested in playing th eoboe and meesing about in boats - probably a sailing dinghy.
4. Have you ever turned a hobby into a moneymaking opportunity? Only that by being interested in politics, I sttod for, and was elected to my local council. I get paid for doing that, but that's like turning a hobby into a job - eg if you like cooking, become a professional cook
5. Besides web-related stuff (burbs, rings, etc.), what clubs do you belong to? I am a member of the Labour Party and of my Trade Union. I have, in my life, been a member of The Brownies, CND, Manchester United, Amnesty International, Jason Donovan Fan Club and Greenpeace. link Saturday, April 27 How gay are you?Apaprently I am 46% gay. If you had asked me I would have said about 35%. Mind you, I don't think that fighting in the street and being prepared to do some DIY are particularly dykey characteristics.
And I'm 52% Snob link Thursday, April 25 Google searchesWhen done too regularly do not a good blog make. But sometimes I just can't resist!
link Patriotism returns to Proms' Last Night- from the Beeb. Oh I know it's all traditional and that, but breaks with tradition can be good - think of People's Sunday at Wimbledon. I was very struck last year when they played "God Save The Queen" followed by "The Star Spangled Banner", how lack-lustre the singing for our Nat Ant was comapred to the American one. I put it down to an outporing of emotion so soon after September 11th. However, it finished with "Jerusalem", sang even more heartily. I am totally unconvinced that the bulk of the Proms Last Nighters were Rabid Republicans. I do assume that most of them are deeply musical. It served to convince me that regardless of what you think of the words and sentiments and politics of God Save the Queen, the tune is so excrutiatingly ploddingly awful that it should be scrapped forthwith.I know the majority of those who want to replace or supplant it favour "Jerusalem", but i am not sure that it is appropriate to have an anthem, however utterly utterly glorious, that happens to share its name with a city in another country (Palestine). I favour "I Vow To Thee My Country," with music by Gustav Holst...you know, from The Planets. (Or Kiri Te Kenawa's rugby hit from some years back "World in Union". link I disagreeJunius says:
the current audit-culture (begun by the Tories and further promoted by New Labour) is a nightmare for anyone who has to work within it. Public sector professionals are now constantly monitored to ensure their compliance with Stalinist bureaucratic targets and what can't be measured (or the bureaucrats forgot to include in their assessment of overall "excellence") gets neglected.When I have more time I will add a long essay about why I became a Councillor. Part of that was utter disgust at the culture of waste, ineffeciency and ineffectiveness, not to mention corruption, that my local Council was notorious for. I know from eleven years of engagement in local politics that it is difficult, if not impossible, to make a change, until the weaknesses, and their causes, are identified. I also know from twelve years working in audit that an independent, or, at least, detached, assessment of a system/initiative/project, using a professional judgement built up over that time, is important. Bearing in mind that UK government spending is in the region of £250 billion - or approaching 40% GDP - wouldn't you like to know that there is a structure to check that benefits, grants and subsidies are going to the right person/organisation. Isn't it good to know that pople are trying to ensure that your money is spent wisely - Value For Money comprises what goes in (economy), what comes out (effectiveness) and the balance between the two (efficiency). Or would you prefer to see YOUR taxes being squandered on something that fails to meet it's objectives?
Fundamental audit questions - does it do it what it says on the tin? Prove it. link Blogging - social anthropologyThis evening I met up with Adam from AnthroBlog. He's
a social anthropologist working at the University of Surrey, but conducting research on the culture of web logging in London.We chatted for about an hour and a half - any excuse for a natter, me. Seriously, he questioned me about why I blog, and about some of the sites I read. I think I answered as honestly as I could, but basically, I started just to see if I could. I found I enjoy it. I don't intend to stop, but I can imagine that things may occur in the future that mean I may give up. Then a few months later I may start again. Heaven only knows what the future holds! I suspect that I might well continue for a long time - I am by nature a diary writer. That being said, I am not convinced that blogging is the cultural phenomenon that some people claim. There are 509 GBlogs. That means that less than 0.001% of the GB population is registered with GBlogs. I would hazard a guess that there are more murderers that bloggers in Britain. link Damilola TaylorThe main story on the front of the Evening Standard and on the Brothers cleared of Damilola murder BBC's home page refers to the acquittal of the last two boys accused of the murder of 10 year-old Damilola Taylor in Peckham in November 2000. I think an acquittal in a high profile murder case generates mixed feelings. I certainly do not want to see people convicted of crimes they did not commit. But I also recognise that a guilty verdict can bring closure to thebereaved. Having followed the reports of the trial I was not surprised at the verdict. It is not for me to comment on the adeqacy of the investigation. Many miscarriages of justice occur when the police are under enormous press and public pressure to achieve a result.
At the time of the murder, I was working for Southwark Council's Education department, carrying out schools audits. In July I had visited a school on th enorth Peckham Estate, and had passed my cigarette breaks, just outside the schoolgates, watching the demolition of blocks of flats as part of the estate regeneration. Being July, my journey had been in daylight, but I distinctly remember thinking that I would not wish to be here on a dark winter's evening.
November had been a good month for Southwark. Peckham library had won the prestigious Stirling prize for architecture, giving a sense of pride. An email had come round asking people to name famous people who had gone to Southwark schools. This was to be included in a brochure to attract Newly Qualified Teachers to the Borough. The email writer mentioned Rio Ferdinand, but admitted to not knowing any more. A few of us had some fun. a disproportionate number of Southwark schools are named after famous people with a Southwark connection - Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin, John Ruskin, Robert Browning. So we pretended that they had attended Southwark schools. We then moved onto the various schools called St Joseph... With the news of the murder of this little boy, that mood changed. Just on our section, it had an effect. One colleague had ben due to visit Oliver Goldsmith, the school he had attended at the end of the week. I persuaded her that the Head may not wish to have Audit visiting when there were more immediate matters to attend to. While I was out at another school, another colleague was tasked with compiling information on Oliver Goldsmith at the request of the Department for Education for a ministerial briefing.
At one school, I was working away in the room next to the Headteacher's room after school. I could hear part of a conversation. A child's father, who sounded Nigerian (the Taylors are Nigerian), was concerned that that school was not doing enough to protect his son from bullying. I could not fail to understand his concern, regardless of whether or not it was well founded. I heard that the Educational Psychologists - who we had previously characterised as photocopier-hoggers - were deployed almost fulltime to that school.
I do not like Peckham as an area. I have an old school friend and an old University friend, who coincidentally live next door to each other on Peckham Road. Being
Since Damilola's murder, there has been little media mention of Peckham library. It really is glorious building, even if they have to shut it to erect scaffolding to change the lightbulbs.
Furthermore, there are deeper questions to be asked about Peckham, especially North Peckham. At the time of Damilola's murder, there were comments in the newspapers, questioning why somewhere so close to the West End and City, and with a view of Docklands can have such high unemployment. There is a public perception of lawless violent youths roaming the streets looking for trouble. The majority of Peckham residents will fiercely deny this, and I fully accept that a small minority gives the rest a bad name.
Whether it is Peckham or anywhere else, the existence of such alienated youths is a cancer on our society. If you are humanitarian, you have to feel some pity for those boys who have no sense of right and wrong, no appreciation of the norms of the society, and no purpose or direction in life. If you are a hardliner, you have to question whether society can afford to turn its back. Over their - possibly short lives - those boys (and girls) will bring misery to the lives of hundreds of (more-or-less) law abiding people and be a drain on the economic resources of the area and the nation.
link Wednesday, April 24 Silly girl(Written v. late on Wednesday night)Being a ditzy girly (and, of course, irrational, not to mention oversensitive), I accidentally posted to my 'other' blog, reserved for yet to be written essays. On reflection, perhaps it was not entirely inappropriate. Please click through to Detailed Musings link Tuesday, April 23 Two random sites Via Blogsnob - thribble. Not bad not brill I'll probably return at least once.
The Umbrella Stand A British Manchester United fan based in Hungary (her hubby is a Man City fan). I've found her site a couple of times now. I like it.
link Monday, April 22 And finally, todayLast night, I remembered to retune my radio-alarm. I have had it - and its predecessor - tuned to BBC London for over ten years. For a year I put up with Clare Catford doing the breakfast show. She seemed somewhat ignorant about the stories she was covering. She is very much of the sensationalist/it's-all-a-conspiracy school of journalist. Her specialism was asking the same question twenty times to a corporate spokes, in the style of Paxman. Unfortunately, she lacked the towering intellectual capacity of Paxman.
For two long weeks I have put up with the appalling Danny Baker doing a terrible phone-in-about-nothing show. At least Clare Catford hosted inteeligent phone-ins about issues of concern to Londoners - congestion charging, Lambeth's cannabis experiment. Danny Baker's is more about "I know 22 people called Steve" or "I'm Tony, my wife's Joanne and our next-door neighbours are Tony and Joanne."
No more. My radio came onto the Today programme on Radio Four. It carried news of the terrible mistake France has made. (I don't suppose Danny Baker carried anything other than a 30-second bulletin once an hour). I was shocked but not surprised. You do not find much apathy amongst extreme right-wingers. They go out and vote, which far too many people of the centre-left and centre-right don't. I only hope France gives Chirac a resounding victory in the Presidential Election and return a whopping Socialist majority in the General Election. That would be the best way of saying "A curse on both your houses, say no to fascism, and we have plus de concerns." Not that I expect a nation of tens of millions of people to pay much attention to me! In case you're wondering what I am going on about, shame on you. Here's the BBC - French foes unite against Le Pen I also hope the Jewish and Muslim communities in cities such as Marseilles realise that they are not each other's enemies - their common enemy is Le Pen's Front National.
I decided subconsciously that today was not a day for me taking crap at work. At lunchtime, I was absorbed in my book: Stupid White Men by Michael Moore. My colleague Gordon came over and interrupted me. That was not particularly irritating. If you can imagine a scale where equilibrium is indifference. Put one grain of sand on the irritated side, and that was me. In other words really not irritated at all. Gordon - a Chelsea fan - said something about United winning because they got so many freekicks because Ruud van Nistelroy kept falling over. Again, I was not irritated. It's part of the cut-and-thrust of office life to have mild banter about football. I made a comment about Chelsea fans being sore-losers. He called Manchester United cheats; I said that was sour grapes and moved to return to my book. He strolled to the end of my desk and picked up the CDs I had bought at lunchtime. "Oh god!" he exclaimed in utter contempt. I snapped at him, telling him he had no need to criticise my musical taste. (For the record, I bought Electric Dreams and Alternative Eighties.) Sarcastically, I apologised for being a pathetic girlie who happened to like the music she grew up with. He looked at the sleeve and said "I'm in Love With a German Film Star - I've never even heard of it." I suggested that he should not criticise music he had not heard of, let alone heard. We left it at that. I have to say I was bit annoyed that he was, in effect, rooting round my desk, sticking his nose where it wasn't wanted.
Later in the day, I was talking to my Welsh colleague. I was his line manager last financial year. Now I'm not, but his line manager does not arrive until the middle of May. Very professionally, I pointed out that until Geoff arrives I would be happy to act as line manager, unless he wanted Jagat to be, for general or specific reasons. He then said that he didn't see the need for a line manager except to sign his timesheet (he's an agency temp). He then asked who was manager to whom. I listed them and he said that we were, therefore, not proper managers. We were only managers because our Unit could not recruit auditors at what they pay - he had it on good authority.
He then proceeded to talk about previous organisations he had worked for where there was never a one manager to one managee relationship. I pointed out that we did more than manage staff, we also manage the audit and the client. So he said we were glorified auditors. And then started slagging the organisation off. He went on about previous organisations he had worked for, I said that he did not need to work here, and I was sick of his constant demeaning of people on the unit. I was tired of his constant undermining and criticisms. He called me oversensitive. I explained that I was telling him that I felt insulted, and feeling insulted by insiduous criticisms was not oversensitive. He then said that in previous organisations, he had worked with people who hold rational discussions. I said that I was being entirely rational when I said that I did not like the way he constantly did down colleagues.
I am sure some of you reading will have noticed those two words - oversensitive and irrational. Typical female characteristics. Incidentally, today, amongst other things, I supervised him on a couple of small audits he is doing for me - and wants to turn into audits of epic proportions; I supervised Sue on a conference we are organising to improve client communications and assist in assuring the Chief Executive's Statement of internal Control; I supervised Maggie on an audit she is doing for me, and I had a discussion with Norman on an audit he is doing - unsupervised - on my clients. Additionally, I had a discussion with Olivia regarding a presentation I am doing for her team's induction course. If I am only called a manager because I'm too well qualified and experienced to be an Auditor, call me a Senior Auditor and take away my management responsibilities.
I did not mention the fact that I have been repeatedly insulted by his personal digs.There was one particular day that I called in to say that I would not be in, or in late. Either because of my boiler or the one day I was sick before I actually knew I had chicken pox. Very pompously, he said "I shall tell Jagat you followed the rules by calling in before nine." I told him that core time starts at ten, and I have no obligation to call in before then. Don't quote rules at me if you don't know them, I thought.
On one occasion, I went for a cigarette break. He timed me - it was twenty minutes. What he didn't know was that on the way back I had bumped into one of the senior managers and we had a conversation about the possibility of me doing some work for her. He timed another one of my cigarette breaks. It was fifteen minutes. I said that I had been to the toilet. He looked at me disapprovingly - after all, how can anybody take fifteen minutes to have a cigarette and go to the toilet. I was tempted to tell him exactly what I did in the toilet. (It included washing and drying my hands, applying some antibiotic cream to my spotty bum and rewashing and drying my hands.) I had also exchanged pleasantries with a couple of colleagues
On my first full week back, I warned my manager that I would have a struggle to make it through the week. Other people had warned me I would. I was late one morning - which is fully reflected in my flexi sheet. As I went off for lunch, Taffy said, "I hope you are making up time for being late this morning." Primly, I replied, "My attendance AND MY FLEXI SHEET are between me and Jagat."
He thinks he's really rather better than the rest of us, because he's worked in sacred industry. He says the unit should develop skills in auditing project management - this in ignorance of the fact that one entire team devotes a significant amount of its time to audit of project management. The relevant people have enhanced their experience from previous organisations by going on courses run by reputable providers. He is of the view that too many of us are in the office - in previous organisations, he has spent approximately 80% of his time on the road. I suggested that colleagues are involved in finalising reports and carrying out audit planning.
He thinks I am ignorant about my audit clients - even telling me that they have six or seven regional offices. Yeah, I know that. Seven, actually, and I can even name the towns they are in. He wants to be introduced to all the senior staff in the organisation, from the Chief Executive down. I am tempted to say. "No, you're the agency temp, go away and carry out the work assigned to you. Jagat and I are quite capable of doing the blokey back-slapping bit, even if Jagat is Indian and I'm a woman. Not that we do blokey back-slapping. We manage the relationship with our clients. I could go on a lot more about this bloke. He's been annoyingme for a long time, but it's only the past week or so that I have been able to identify the specifics other than the irritating Welshness bit (which, of course, includes an implied anti-Englishness, which I do not think I have to tolerate). I think I shall start taking detailed notes of all our conversations, including dates and times. link The weekendI will just note that Manchester United won three nil at Chelsea. I was utterly delighted. There are many Chelsea fans in my area and they take it so seriously. They think that their team is good enough to rock with the big boys. If they want to be a big team, they'll have to win the Championship.
In the early evening Jimmy and I went into Brixton. Would you believe it? When we were going into the Satay Bar, there was what I thought was some prat with a mobile blocking my way in. I asked him to move, and every move I made, he moved the same way. I told him I didn't want to dance. Then I brushed past him. Little did I know, but as I was walking in, two other blokes crowded in on Jimmy, and dipped his back pocket. Because he is a cash trader, he tends to carry round large quantities of cash. Fortunately, he had paid a few people in advance and had done his Cash 'n' Carry/Supermarket shop for the week. Even so, he lost £160.
The manager and staff of the Satay Bar were really sweet. They looked at the CCTV but said that the pictures were not very clear. Jimmy didn't want to call the police. I would have done, because I know that if they are alerted to pickpockets operating, they can liaise with the Council's CCTV and follow the suspects around. When they swoop again, they can dive in and arrest them, with evidence on tape. We also got dinner on the house.
On Sunday we travelled to Chislehurst Caves, twenty minutes from London Bridge station. These are well cool. We went on a 45 minute tour, covering just one mile of the
labyrinth of dark mysterious passageways which have been hewn by hand from the chalk, deep beneath Chislehurst. There are over 20 miles of caverns and passageways, dug over a period of 8000 years. The vast complex of caves are a maze of ancient mines originally carved out in the search for flint and chalk. They are divided into three main sections, Saxon, Druid and Roman.It's dark down there, so the tour group carries paraffin lamps. It's amazing to think that these were dug by hand. They became the largest air-raid shelter during WWII, housing 30,000 people. the complex included a church (where you can still get married), theatre, cinema and hospital. It was interesting going out into suburbia, but we concluded that we would not want to live there. There seems only to be one pub in the town, which seemed as dead-as-a-doornail, and in need of an urgent refurb. We only saw two restaurants - the ubiquitous curry house, and a fabulously expensive seafood restaurant. link ...and onOn Friday I went up to Liverpool with my manager for a client meeting. It started out quite traumatically. I heard on the radio that there had been a fire at Wembley, and there were no trains leaving Euston. I decided to go to Euston, anyway. Fortunately, by the time I got there they had started to run trains again, and ours was only about five minutes late leaving. It crawled all through North London.
The breakfast service did not start until after Watford, and they announced it was a limited one. Rather than a cooked breakfast, they were offering bacon butties. When the guy came round with the bacon butties, I asked if there were any veggie ones. He said no. I said why not, His answer was non-committal. He asked me whether I wanted a bacon one. I replied 'no' firmly. A few minutes later, he returned and asked me whether I wanted a veggie sausage one. I said I did, and thanked him profusely. As I said to Jagat, am I the only person in the country...? It's not even as if I'm proper veggie. I eat fish. Don't ask me to explain. Oh, I've already mentioned I used to audit agriculture...!
In the end the train arrived about twenty five minutes late. Three of us jumped ina taxi and made it to our meeting with a minute to spare - only to find it had been delayed for half an hour. so we had time for lunch as well, and to watch the ferry across the Mersey. The journey back was very pleasant. Virgin train staff kept forcing Jagat and me to drink more and more gin! The view out of the window was beautiful, a reminder of why I love England. Green fields filled with link My life goes onThe next application was equally difficult but for different reasons. Most applications to be a licensed door supervisor (or bouncer) are granted by officers on delegated authority. However, if they are opposed, they come to committee, to allow the applicant a fair hearing. This man had a number of convictions. The most serious was seven years ago when he was convicted of importing a controlled drug and was sentenced to 4 years. According to the police sergeant, as confirmed by our legal advisor, sentences above 2 and a half years are never deemed to be spent. The man said that he had committed the crime under duress - I think he meant pressure. He said that since then he had been going straight.
I believed him. He has not had a conviction in that time, he has moved away from the area, mentioned his daughter, and is working as a shop assistant. Nevertheless, we felt unable to grant the licence, in the area where he had previously been in with a bad crowd. I felt sorry for him, because he seemed sincerely to have reformed, and the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act is named that for a purpose. But I do not think anybody would be happy to know that the bouncer at the club that their kids go to has drug-related convictions. The greatest fear in Licensing is that the dealers take control, usually via the bouncers, and I don't think that we can take that risk.
On Wednesday evening was my last meeting of the Full Council. Full Council is usually noted for it's political posturing. I would have thought that this would be no different, but it got quite sick-making as members of all parties seemed to be falling over each other to pay due respect for the hard work and dedication of their opponenets. I had been coerced to put in a question asking our leader how many of our 1998 election pledges had been fulfilled. His written answer went to 100 pages. Out of 88, about nearly 80 have been fully honoured, the remainder are in process or have been superceded. I had to ask a supplemetary, so I gave a totally unnecessary speech about how boring my life will be when I step down. Then, looking at our current election slogan, unashamedly stolen from the General Election, I asked, "Would the leader agree that there although there is a Lot Done, there is still a lot more to do.
For the record, we have a 32 page mainfesto, containing only two photos of the leader. It breaks Labour Party rules by having six key promises, rather than five. They are:
link My life in nutshellFirstly, I realise that to describe properly the role of a councillor will take a very long essay, and as I have set up a separate blog to take essays, I will do that in time. However, in my sense, it is someone who is elected to serve on their local council. My council, Lambeth has a population of about half a million. The area is divided, at present, into 22 wards. All but two have three councillors, making 64 in total. The budget is approximately £300 million - say US$400+. In general in the UK, councillors represent one or other of the political parties, although there are many Independents, especially in rural areas.
Generally councillors serve for a period of four years - I've served two terms. It is deemed to be a part-time voluntary activity. In my first five years I could claim about £40 a month basic allowance, supplemented by £20 - less tax - for attending. There was a growing awareness that the allowance did not fully reflect the time that councillors put in, and that it was biased towards attending meetings in the Town Hall, which attracted attendance allowance, rather than consulting with the community. Nowadays, the allowance (in London) is £7500, less tax, which reflects the fact that on average a backbencher spends a day and a half to two days a week on Council business - some is deemed to be voluntary.
A Councillor fulfills a number of roles. One is to represent the electors, acting as an advocate on local issues and interceding for those having problems with council bureaucracy. That should be a two way process.
About ten councillors form the Executive, with a Leader and have specific portfolios. These portfolios reflect the responsibilities of the council:
The remaining councillors provide a scrutiny of Executive members and officers, are involved in Town Centre forums - which are consultative - and my favourite bit, perform a quasi-judicial function in deciding Planning and Licensing Applications which have been opposed.
As I say, it can be a very time-consuming activity, although I have been on a bit of a wind-down since Christmas. There was a time when I was out four nights a week, and spent an afternoon a week making phone calls, and most of most weekends reading and writing. Nationally, most councillors are either retired, or have the type of employment that can be flexible.
And that is the short answer!
As to the past week of my life, what the heck have I been doing?
On Monday I think I made an enemy for life. I work with someone who is from Wales. I used to be very fond of Wales. I audited their Agriculture Department for three years, making many visits to some very beautiful country. I have also spent two weeks on audit in Cardiff, and enjoyed that city. I was made - in jest - an honorary Welsh citizen for my ability to pronounce Llanelli and the name of a farm that I now forget. I am rather fond of the sound of Welsh Male Voice choirs and, on occasion, have been moved to tears by the Welsh version of "When I Survey The Wondrous Cross", which, although has English words has a very different tune than that sung in England. Land of My Fathers and Cwm Rhondda are also deeply moving anthems. Incidentally, I'm not especially religious.
The problem with this guy is that every conversation always comes down to Wales. For example, I mentioned that a slight acquaintance of mine won part of an Oscar for special effects in Gladiator - he built the Coliseum brick by brick. (the point of the story was that we happened to get the same bus the morning after the Oscars last year, and I was able to say "Congratulations on the Oscar." )So my colleague mentioned that he had met Catherine Zeta-Jones.
He's always going on about how brilliant Welsh TV programmes are - usually citing Superted. I am supposed to respond by some Wales - Manchester oneupmanship, despite the fact that I have lived in London for eleven years. Unfortunately, I rise to the bait, pointing out that Bob the Builder is made in Altrincham - according to my Mother anyway. Actually in Mother's parish...I'll raise you Bob the Builder for Superted. Shall we continue? It's that pathetic.
He made some comment about Cardiff being the European City of Culture in 2008. I had read this on concerned (but powerless), where Travis, a Cardiff resident had expressed incredulity. I sort of quoted that, and was told in no uncertain terms that Manchester has no culture to speak of. Like a fool, I rose to the bait, and mentioned three orchestras. I didn't mention the Royal Exchange theatre, nor LS Lowry or Harrison Birtwhistle or Peter Maxwell-Davies, nor the seminal rock bands from Manchester, because culture is not meant to be competitive. Anyway, I live in London. Furthermore, I think he pushes the Welshness too far. I did point out to him that of all the people on our team he lives the closest to home. He goes on about his Welsh language, presumably failing to realise that our Senior Manager has Punjabi as his 'mother tongue', and I presume that English is not the mother tongue of my Nigerian and Sierra Leonian colleagues. He was insulted at not being invited to a meeting of ethnic minority staff, and was not too happy when I pointed out that our Australian colleague wasn't, either.
On Tuesday I went to a seminar run by the Chartered Institute of Public Finance and Accountancy, of which I am a member. This was on Corporate Governance, a hot topic at the moment, with added spice after Enron. This was held in the City, so I had the fairly novel experience of not getting a seat on my morning Tube. At one point, seeing a spare seat, I did my usual trick of hesitate for a few seconds, then, seeing no response from the man with an equal claim to the seat, I claimed it. He looked at me a little disappointedly. I could not help noticing his face. He was not born beautiful, and his face looked as though he had had some reconstructive surgery. Not that you would really notice but just enough to make him stand out from the crowd. Later, when having pre-seminar coffee, my manager commented that the man who had just walked in was one of the speakers, and had worked for him many years ago. "Oh my god," I exclaimed, "we had a fight for a seat on the Tube!" Seeing my manager's surprise, I explained that it was not a proper fight! But talk about small world...how often do you really notice someone on the rush hour train, and then when you do, later find out that you know people in common?
There was quite a lot of small world at that seminar. Two former managers of mine were there. I spoke briefly with Wendy, who isjust one of the nicest people you could work for and a really good example. She expected hard work, but never more than she was prepared to do herself. I never found her anything but fair, and I don't remember her ever raising her voice, yet she was firm when she needed to be. I was disappointed that I did not speak with Victor. I don't think he recognised me, and it can be mutually embarrassing - he's desperately trying to remember this temp who passed through his office three years ago.
I also spoke to another old colleague, Laura. She is about three weeks older than me, and we joined the NAO on the same day in 1989. I must confess she is not someone I have particularly thought about in the four years since I left. Even the brief chat we had at coffee reminded me what a thoroughly nice person she is. She has been promoted twice in that time, and is probably earning half as much again as I am. But to my pleasure, I was not jealous. I've made my choices, and don't regret any of them. It is strange though, when I see someone who is still at an old workplace. I feel that I have moved on, but for them their work environment is the same. What is important to them was to you, but no longer is.
On Tuesday I chaired my last ever Licensing Committee. Although I am technically Vice-Chair, the Chair has been looking after his sick father in Wolverhampton. That was really quite stressful. There were only two applications. One was from a company applting to hold an event on Clapham Common that will charge people £12 to come and watch displays of skateboarding, BMX and motocross. The most controversial aspect was a 'graffiti wall'. Apparently, this is all part of a Sprite promotion because they have a logo that is graffiti. As you can imagine, the double-barrell named citizens of Clapham were up in arms about this, and not without due cause. I have to say I get rather tired of trendy creative types glorifying graffiti when presumably they do not live somewhere plastered with 'tagging'. We did not have any grounds in Licensing law to refuse the application, but Johanna and I, from the Labour side, ably abetted by June from the LibDims, conspired to impose stringent but fair conditions. These included the standard ones of restoring the common, litter-picking and patrols to deter urination in gardens. Johanna demanded that they tour the common prior to the event, with a camera, and any graffiti or damage they cannot prove was already there, they have to remove. I also stated that no publicity should use the expressions 'graffiti' or 'street art' but should the professional nature of the aerosol artists. I added that I was sure that the Coca-cola corporation would not wish to be associated with any street crime in Lambeth.
link Sunday, April 21 Claim your countryI have a supercool idea. I am fascinated by the idea that I have visitors from a range of countries. The ones I have noticed via my Stats are listed to the right. It would be really cool if I could have people claiming a country, and then I'd link to their website that way. So, lay claim to a nation in the comments book. Obviously, I reserve final say, but I shan't refuse a claim without good reason!
And an excuse for not going to bed:  Take the What Kind of Slacker are you? Quiz link Saturday, April 20 One random siteesoterically dot net. First impression, positive. I shall return when I have more time. link The journal bit and 'what is a councillor?'I will tell you *every* detail of my busy week and write about being a councillor. Requested by Dogs Don't Purr, and actually, it seems a really sensible idea to sum up eight years of my life as that part draws to a close.
I also have to check out some blogs and journals that aren't - as yet - on my Blogroll, change the links for two that are, and consider removing one which isn't as good as I initially thought.
I also need to start recording the fact that once a day I deliberately go onto the site that Blogsnob shows on my site.
Before all that, however, I need to do loads of housework. Yuck. link Friday Five1. What's your favorite TV show and why? It depends what mood I'm in. Of ones currently airing on UK terrestrial it is West Wing and 24. I also watch (usually on tape) Casualty. I enjoy it, even though I can appreciate the criticisms of it. I also love Champions League when Man United are playing, and frequently watch other football. I like Newsnight, and Channel 4 News (although I'm rarely home for C4 News). I also like comedies such as Have I Got News For You? Goodness Gracious Me, Black Books and the Office.
2. Who is your favorite television star? Christopher Eccleston, and Clive Owen. I watched The Secret last week and remembered what a good actress Haydn Gwynne is. I've seen her on stage, too.
3. What was your favorite TV show as a child? Grange Hill, without a doubt. I still enjoy it now. I have watched 25 series of it. I also thoroughly enjoyed Brideshead Revisited, Jewel In the Crown, To Serve Them All My Days and Not The Nine O'Clock News.
4. What show do you think should have been cancelled by now? Last of the Summer Wine. And most stuff shown before nine pm on ITV (except for live footy, and Coronation Street).
5. What new show do you hope escapes the axe this season? Difficult to answer this one. A lot of the new stuff appears to be one-off or short series of dramas, which are not suitable for new series. There have been some good two part dramas, and I would encourage all TV companies to make more of those.
link Hello and googleHello to visitors from Cyprus, Denmark Germany and Malaysia.
Interesting google search terms of late:
link Tuesday, April 16 It ain't what you say it's the way that you say itVery briefly - I must to bed. When I write my reviews of random blogs, I say what I don't like about them. It struck me today that there must be people reading who think "But I do that..." and may feel offended. For example, I've slagged off people's idiom, or that they write about their homelife, or the fact that I don't agree with what they say. I can think of a number of Blogs I read regularly who could be criticised for one or more of those 'faults'.
That seems contradictory. I return again and again to those sites because their writing brings it alive for me. I feel that in a small way, I know and like those people. I can only conclude that the subject matter is of less importance than the sense that it is real. I could list sites written by people with opposing views to myself, or who lead lives that are completely different from mine - in fact I have listed some to the right. It might well be that if I were to meet some of those people in RL, we would not like each other. Or find we have nothing to say.
But that's okay. It's certainly something that Blogs have taught me. Firstly, that people really do have the right to hold different opinions to mine, as long as I am persuaded that they hold them for genuine reasons. Or that on the whole, most people are okay: it's just that travelling around a noisy overcrowded city, you tend to develop deep feelings of hatred for people who do nothing more than dither in front of you. Or you might take a dislike to someone just because you're in a bad mood.
Online's good because you can make it go away. Of course, that would be terrible if the only social contact was online, but thankfully, even after seven years and eleven and a half months as a Councillor, I still have some RL friends left. I am looking forward to trying to renew some more friendships after May.
link Monday, April 15 Archives....agggghI don't know if it's me, or Blogger, or w.bloggar, or what, but my archives keep disappearing. If you notice them missing, could you give me a ring, please. link Thank you, Freeserve! I installed the Freeserve Anytime service a couple of months back, so for the fee of £13.99 per month I get free calls to the internet. In theory, anyway - at busy times ie evenings, weekends and school holidays, it can be quite difficult to make a connection.
I received an email from Freeserve today: It said:
Dear Freeserve Member I jolly well hope that I have not been paying local phone charges during my month of sick-leave. I would be surprised, because my February phonebill was quite noticeably reduced after I installed Anytime. Besides, how could I have not installed it properly. I followed their instructions. I would be interested to know whether anybody else has received this email. If I get a phone bill for some humongous amount such as £300, I assure you that you will hear all about it. As will many other people, such as BBC's Watchdog, The Consumers Association Which magazine...
I am puzzled as to how this happened - I mean, the number they originally gave me has allowed me to connect to the internet (generally). I suppose it could be recent. The computer froze on Saturday and I could do nothing but switch it off. When I ran Scandisk, I filled more than one undo disk, which is unprecedented.
I probably won't be making (m)any entries this week. I have Licensing tomorrow and Council Wednesday. I need an early night Thursday because I'm going to Liverpool on Friday. Hopefully, I shall spend most of the weekend with Jimmy.
Oh guess what, Roger's organised our Unit conference on the day of the England-Nigeria match, despite me specifically asking for it not to be on the day of a match (and he's a serious Arsenal fan). Unfortunately, it's the only day that the Tower of London is available from the preferred dates for the Unit - ie avoiding half-term week and a couple of other key dates.
It's a bit of a pain. With the breakfast time matches I was going to watch at home, and then dash to work, possibly taking a little of flexi time. If I'm going to watch the match, I'll have to be at a pub in the City by half past seven. I think Roger has a duty to identify a pub that will be open. But I don't think I really want to watch an England match surrounded by City Boys.
In other news, the Croydon tram drivers have settled their industrial dispute. They called off their strike a couple of weeks back out of respect for the Queen Mother. Presumably because she frequently travelled on the Croydon tram.
Incidentally, I'm sure you've seen it already, but just in case, Bingobowden has listed some of the comments allegedly left in the book of condolence.
I should probably stay away from commenting on the Royals. I actually got ticked off The Brains Trust, for referring to His Royal Highness the Duke of Edinburgh as 'Phil the Greek'. link Bonjour et GoogleJe voudrais dire 'bonjour' aux les mesdames ou messieurs qui habitent dans La France et La Belgique.
I have had a search request for pages similar to gilest.org. I was 12 in the list, Daisy was 16 and 20. Giles T's site seems very pleasant, but I'm a little flummoxed how I came up as a site similar to it.
I am twentieth in the list for hostelry management schools in France, which picks up on disconnected words scattered randomly round my blogjournal.
I am amused by 'stupid democrat flag on Mars', but would like to know whether it is the Democrat that is stupid or the flag. I didn't even know that they'd planted a flag on Mars. It just shows how out of touch I am with space, the final frontier.
The bit below is not for people aged Under-18
The dumbest search engine result when I wanted to find out a bit more on Queen Victoria. I had bored of reading three thousand different entries by eight year old American kids - thanks for sending them to the search engine, made my search for intelligent facts just a little bit harder. So I thought I would enter "Prince Albert" and got loads of pictures of intimate body piercing. I was simultaneously fascinated and revolted. I told this tale to a number of men I took to be wordly wise and I was even more shocked that they genuinely did not know about Prince Alberts. link Sunday, April 14 A quick testIf this looks right I might add it to my template. It looks remarkably like me. link Queen Mum tribute Heavy on flash, contains *music*. Queen Mum we love you. Link via Justin. link Review of FFsBrought to you by Cars - Gary Numan. Oi, some of these tracks are 70s, not 80s!
I looked at the ten Friday Fives posted immediately below me.
jennah's journal. Very short answers, no light shed on her life through FF. She has 'maybe something else' (not Coke) at a restaurant. On 19th March she went out and had her second ever alcoholic drink in a restaurant. On 23rd March she got married. The photo of her with bridesmaids is really rather nice. 27th March comment on the Middle East:
You attack innocent people on one of the holiest days of the year. That is simply shameful.Because it's okay any other day, and is in no way similar to bombing Afghanistan during Ramadan. Oh, by the way, Jews and Moslems don't celebrate Easter - although I recognise that Passover and Easter are linked, and often coincide. I can't say that I am a great supporter of war, but I am not a pacifist, and I believe that often war is necessary, when all else fails. To people in Israel and Palestine, there is nothing more important that national self-determination and national territory. For them it is an essential war. All that we in the West can do is to try and help them to find a way of moving forward in co-existence, in the way that progress is slowly happening in Northern Ireland. Reflected Ignorance Norwegian who writes like an American -
YES! I finally got what I've wished for sooo long! Violet contact lences! They're so damn awesome! My mom thought it looked kind of strange when I put them on, and my father totaly freaked out. He asked why I wasted my money like that. Well, I think he's over it now.Favourite restaurant is Pizza Hut, where she has coke 'of course'. Re tipping, she points out she doesn't leave a tip - Norway is very different. Talk Stink A blog from Hawaii. He drinks water in restaurants, doesn't like fast food, and points out that Canada has a non-tipping culture. (Come to Britain, love!). Intelligent and opinionated - he's a professional writer. I may return.
Miscellaneous BS Sophie is an American who drinks...like a Brit! She tips between 10 and 30%, and reveals a little about her life. She and Bazil, who jointly run the Blog, write a bit sloppily, but with energy and, they describe. Not bad.
Me Saw You Front page has a cutie-wutie piccie of a sweetie ickle girl. Inside is a cat picture - agggggh, give me children over cats any day! And a dog picture. Give me cats over dogs any day. Oh. sorry, that's the journal. She keeps a separate blog. Should I do that? She tips 10% - 20% (In USA) and has Diet Coke. A bit boring but she took me to an online quiz:
Random Happiness and Cranky Peevishness (the title sounds like a description of my life!). A bit of a complicated layout, that in itself only forms part of a bigger picture. Go there, if only to understand, what I'm saying ... showing is so much better than telling! She uses the Friday Five to tell a bit more about herself. She had wine last night (that would have been Thursday) but that's rare. For tipping, she doubles the 15% tax. And she bought a 64Mb Smart Media card for $30. That would cost nearly £64 ( about a pound a MB) in Britain - US $100 roughly.
Bruce Loebrich. Is headed up by the kind of photo you see in Annual Reports and includes a 45-word corporate pen picture. Describes steak as 'orgasmic' Answer to the final question:
I usually order a diet cola (I prefer Pepsi), but can be rather easily convinced to split a bottle of wine with my wife when it is available. Maybe this is the clue to the non-American drinkers. A lot of restaurants don't have booze. I have to say that it only once hit Helen and me in our three week visit to the States. When I went with my Mum and brother back in the 80s I didn't notice either, but we mainly ate at my Auntie Imelda's or at my cousin Jackie and her husband Tim. Helen and I had booked a flight from Buffalo to Boston. We had done it cheaply, and were due to change at Portland (Maine, I think). Being Europeans, we were the first to check in at Buffalo - about two hours before take-off. (LOL if you is Yank). We were upgraded - thrill, thrill! We were told about ten minutes before take-off that our flight would be delayed due to a burst tyre. We realised we would lose our connection, so told the man on the desk. At that moment the entire airline ticket booking network for the whole of North America crashed. This guy was a star. He got on his walkie talkie and found two seats on a rival airline flying direct to Boston, that was just boarding. He made us run through the airport. I told him our suitcases were a big green one and a big red one.
We landed at Boston an hour earlier than we would have done (but missed out on our upgrade). Our suitcases were already waiting for us when we came out of the loo. We then spent ages in the car rental place. We had been quoted a price but did not know that we had to add: Boston tax, Massachussetts tax, Boston airport tax, and Boston Convention Center tax. Helen asked if she could have a brick in the Convention Center named after her.
Finally we got our car. We had ordered a small one, but got a massive 4x4 Landrover type thing that was taller than us. (I'm 5'2", she's smaller). We called it our HGV - Helen and Gert Van. It took us ages to drive out of Boston, as we had expected, and we even drove through a tunnel we shouldn't have - no one noticed! We eventually arrived at our motel in West Yarmouth, Cape Cod at about half-nine. We went to the Friendly's next door, because I remembered going to one in Mystic, Conneticut, ten years earlier. As I described it, cheap and cheerful, and next door. I recall that I had battered fish and chips, and a milkshake. Cape Cod is more English than England! We soon retired to the bar across the road. We got chatting to a bloke who was doing some nationally networked quiz thing. He had to answer three questions about England that two educated intelligent English women found a cinch, but it would be unreasonable to expect an non-Brit to know. There was also a question on kd lang. I was the only one in the bar who knew the answer. He bought us both a drink.
Back to Bruce's weblog. One of many that falls into the category of nothing wrong with it - just didn't grab me.
This one had a DNS error despite four attempts to find it.
DogsDon'tPurr I like the sunset picture. Her Friday Five does more than just answer the questions. She also has orgasmic food...there's clearly something missing in my life. She has cocktails at restaurants - there again - she illustrates her entire blog with a cocktail glass - and doesn't like fast food. She tips upwards of 20% or nothing if the service is poor. She has an engaging style of writing. I particularly like her entry on 5 April:
I was going to declare this "No Hard Alcohol Day"...I was only going to drink wine or champagne...but I just walked into the kitchen and saw the lovely Cognac I bought yesterday!! Does cognac count as hard alcohol??? I mean it is made from grapes...it says on the label Grand Champagne Cognac....A woman I could like! Wishing Star. Friday Five not interesting - she rarely drinks alcohol. The Blog isn't that interesting, and I am not sure it is totally
God, I live a boring life! link Back to the present(Under Your Thumb - Godley and Creme)
The post on the 80s was quite similar to the one I lost on Thursday. Between then and now I have seen on quite a few Blogs people using music as the key to memories of their Youth. I am, obviously, inadvertently following a trend.
My favourite Crystal Palace fan rang this morning. He asked what I was doing. I suggested that he had lost the right to know what I was doing. He suggested that we met up. I said that I had made plans. This was not entirely a lie, because last night I had fully intended to join the campaign trail, but did not feel like it this morning. He said that I had every right to make other plans, and said sorry a large number of times.
He had hoped - expected - me to come over and see him in the cafe yesterday. I suggested that he should have phoned me. He acknowledge that to be so, but was hoping for me to make a move. We had a sensible conversation. I am certain that he is clear, when sober, that he must not take me for granted. He had been up two hours before he phoned me - he knows better than to ring me too early in the morning! He said he had done some thinking and knows that he has to do something about the drinking. I have pointed out that it is not doing his health any good, which he knows. He also pointed out that it is not doing his wallet any good.
He owns a cafe and is open from about five in the morning (before six only to known people eg the butcher the baker and the sewing machine repair man). He closes at three and on busy days can be on his feet for ten hours. It is entirely understandable to want to have a pint or two to relax, but he is not always capable of drinking in moderation.
I try to encourage him to go to Real Ale places where he can have three pints and go home. Unfortunately, too many pubs nearby, if they have a hand-pulled ale do not keep it properly, and do not sell much, making it undrinkable. Like me, he can't drink more than a pint or so of lager because of it being full of chemically produced gas. So he turns to the shorts. Most of the pubs do cheap 'house doubles', which is basically dirty alcohol. I don't touch them, preferring to pay for proper gin, like Gordons. He mixes the whisky with lemonade and on a bad day can do half a bottle or more.
He is not an alcoholic in that, say, on the day we went to Harwich, his first drink of the day - a pint - was about three o'clock, and in the evening we shared a bottle of wine. Most of the population is to some extent dependent on alcohol. I know a mother of small children who claims to be an alcoholic, because when the children go to bed she likes to settle down with half a bottle of wine, and is also partial to a gin. I have had not had a drink for a week now, which is freakish, but in most weeks I am well over the Chief Medical Officer's limit of 21 units. When I did my back in back in December three different doctors agreed that I was very sensible to drink a pint and a half of bitter, half a bottle of wine, an Irish coffee and three doubles in one evening for analgesia.
(I Second That Emotion - Japan)
I think he knows that I have no intention of dumping him, but also that I am not prepared to keep on forgiving him and acting as if nothing's happened. In a way I am punishing him - there is no practical reason why we could not have gone out for lunch. I suppose it's called tough love. We now have two lost weekends because of his drinking and that is not acceptable to either of us. I do not want to end the relationship - I have never found anybody who is such a soul mate - but if we do not spend enough time together there is a danger that the relationship may just implode.
(Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood) link More nostalgiaThis provides a beautiful connection between the last post and the present day. Ten years ago today, Nicky, who I knew from the local Labour Party, and I went to Selhurst Park. This was an effort to cheer ourselves up after the previous week's General Election, when, despite Streatham electing a Labour MP, the country stubbornly re-elected a Conservative government. The match in question was the FA Youth Cup Final 1st leg, Crystal Palace Youth vs Manchester United Youth. We went because we were she-Devils exiled in South London.
We were disappointed that the captain of the United Youth team, 18-year-old Ryan Giggs, was not playing. However, he had played two days previously in the League Cup Final, the one and only time United have won that trophy. Like Labour winning in Streatham but not nationally, it was scant consolation for throwing away the League title, not having won it in my life time.
United won 3-1 on the night, and went onto lift the FA Youth Cup. We knew we had seen a good team that night, and knew that for the team to be that good, in the absence of Ryan Giggs, they had to be special. We did not know that within a handful of years the nucleus of that team would be massive.
The team that night was:
Just before the European Cup Final in 1999, one of the newspapers ran a feature on this Youth team and commented that to have all but one of the team still in professional football (and, at the time, George Switzer was playing in the Football Conference) is unprecedented.
On the basis of that night's performance, Nicky chose Nicky Butt as her player for the future. I chose John O'Kane. Neither of us was especially impressed by David Beckham, but I have subsequently read that he was a relatively late developer. The staff at United knew that he was exceptionally talented but doubted whether he had the physique to match.
(You Take Me Up - The Thompson Twins) link NostalgiaI am currently struggling to decide whether I am at the cutting-edge of revival/retro-chic or I am becoming someone of a certain age. This post will be punctuated by song titles/artists in brackets and italics as a song on the stereo particularly grabs me. The last three pop albums I have bought are:
(Hold Me Now - The Thompson Twins) So many of the tracks on all three double albums remind me of school, and, to an extent, University days. I am still convinced that 1981 was objectively the best year ever for chart pop music. Whether my objectivity is clouded by the fact that that was the year I was 13, I do not know!
The secondary school I attended was a convent grammar school in a Leafy Suburb on the very Cheshire edge of Greater Manchester. (Time For Action - Secret Affair). Each year, the retiring Upper Sixth "Committee" (prefects in any other school) organised a Lenten Appeal for chari'dee. Our year wanted to do it for a local Drug Rehab project, but were told by the staff that some parents would disapprove. Instead we raised about £5000 for Sudan.
(The Lunatics Have Taken Over the Asylum - Funboy Three). The fund-raising took many different forms. There was always a big event. In my year we organised a fashion show, with clothes, nibbles and wine donated by shops in the town. When Suzanne Charlton was on the Committee (as Sport rep, naturally) there was a football match between the Bobby Charlton All Star XI and the team from the local bus garage. That was for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at St Mary's Hospital, Manchester.
Each year there was a sponsored walk. Each form was expected to organise small fundraising events: selling cakes at Break, versions of TV quiz shows, running a book on Who Shot JR?. Wear-Your-Own-Clothes-Day was always popular. My favourite was the Record Hop. For an entrance fee of 10p you could spend the entire lunch hour in the school hall, or gym, or best of all, the dark basemental Drama Studio. (Who's That Girl - The Eurythmics). You would have the back of your hand marked with an rubber stamp and there was usually cakes and orange squash on sale for a few pence.
To make a successful Record Hop required most people in the form to bring in a selection of singles - 7" of (usually) black vinyl containing an average three-and-a-half minutes of magic. The best Record Hops combined the latest chart hits with pereniial favourites. None was complete without Blondie's Call Me, Madness's One Step Beyond and Too Much Too Young by the Special AKA (the last two are on Rude Boy Revival). Rivalries - Ants vs Durannies - were danced out, and anything that hinted at naffness - Mirror Mirror by Dollar - were treated with contemptuous sneering.
I spent the years between about 1978 and 1989 obsessed with pop music and football. I would like to paint a portrait that they were the only things that mattered in my life. However, I joined the Labour Party when I was sixteen, was a member of school choir, orchestra and choral society, and did okay in my public exams. Nevertheless, I bough Smash Hits every fortnight, and Match and Shoot every week. I spent every available minute listening to pop radio. This was mainly Piccadilly Radio, which, being Manchester's only independent radio station at the time served both my obsessions. Throughout the Eighties I diligently wrote down the Top Forty each week and the results from all matches from the First Division (as it was then), FA Cup (from the third round onwards), League Cup (from the second round on) and Europe (involving English clubs). This was before my family had Ceefax, let alone the internet!(My World - Secret Affair).
During the borrrrrrrring school holidays I would analyse all the statistics I had gathered. When we went on a family holiday to Kessingland, nr Lowestoft in Suffolk in August 1982, I was able to recite to myself the results of all Manchester United matches, including goal scorers, for the previous season. (Reasons to Be Cheerful - Ian Dury and the Blockheads)
I kept a written diary, also almost obsessively. Looking back I am disappointed at the poor standard of my writing. I was the best writer in my class, I think, and also wrote fiction for the amusement of my friends. I think I had a lazy, sloppy attitude to my diary. My entry for April 2nd 1982 listed what I had for breakfast. On the bus "I sat next to FitBit from South Trafford College. He spoke to me - well, he said 'excuse me'! I walked to school with Helen C" (the older sister of my oldest friend).
I listed what we did in lessons, which, being the last day of term, was quizzes. After Break was the final of the (inter-form) debate. 4A beat 4H. I did not mention what the topic was, or who the debaters were, although I am pretty certain to this day that the winning team included another Helen (there were a lot born in the mid-to-late Sixties) who later became Head Girl, and silenced a propagandist from SPUC (Society for the Protection of Unborn Children) who came to speak to Fifth and Sixth Formers two years later. She's not registered with Friends Reunited.
After Mass in the afternoon, I went home. "I walked up the road with Simon Q, who showed me a picture he had drawn of Adam Ant.
(On My Radio - Selecter)
"Once home I listened to Phil Sayer. He played Fantastic Day - Haircut 100; Freeze Frame - J.Geils Band; & Seven Tears - The Goombay Dance Band.
"Then I heard the News. Gary Birtles may be out of the match tomorrow, meaning that sweet Scott (McGarvey) makes only his second full appearance!!!!!!!!! "I read the Guardian, particularly a fantastic review of Haircut 100. Nick Heyward's boyish charm has been compared to The Monkees or Paul McCartney, and he has been tipped to become the Paul McCartney of the 80s. "After tea Grandad and Auntie June (my grandfather's second wife) came round briefly. I chatted with them for yonks. I painted my nails and watched The News, the first twenty five minutes of which was dedicated to the Argentinian invasion of The Falklands. Does this bring about the downfall of The Conservative Government." As you can see, when I was fourteen, not only were my priorities absolutely right, but my political acumen was faultless! This diary entry was written in green felt-tip pen (not because I was deranged, but because I had received a packet of felt-tips for Christmas. Being too old for colouring, I alternated between them for diary entries). Every 'o' was written as 'ø' because that's what Adam Ant did. (Adam was always written in capitals so that I could reverse the 'D'!)
(Let's Do Rocksteady - The Bodysnatchers
(Skinhead Moonstop - Symarip) - this was also recorded by Special AKA as the 'B' side to Too Much Too Young. The notebook this was written in is adorned with grafitti, including the immortal hope "Man United for the FA Youth Cup". We had not won any trophy since 1977. At fourteen, five years is a long time. The front of the notebook says "If you value your life as much as I value this book, you will control your honker."
(What is Love? - Howard Jones)
(Smalltown Boy - Bronski Beat) This so reminds me of lying in the garden soaking up the sun in days after O-Levels and more than anything else was instrumental in destroying my inevitable teenage homophobia. My O-Level year was the best, weather-wise. It rained pretty constantly from the end of the Easter holidays until the lunchtime followng the last exam - music. After Judy and I had finished the music exam, we met up with Andrea and Louise, and went to celebrate at a really good veggie restaurant on The Downs in Altrincham. (Altrincham, being the HQ of the Vegetarian Society was excellent for veggie restaurants even in the 80s). It was raining as we walked to the bus-station. It stopped raining when I reached home, and did not rain again until school started in September. It was one of those drought years, with pictures being shown on the TV news of dried up reservoirs in Devon.
(Ghost Town - The Specials) The very best song from that brilliant year 1981, which summed up the recession, the high unemployment, the riots, the scourge of Thatcherism, and was partly responsible for the politicising of many of my contemporaries. link Saturday, April 13 Manchester United song lyricsIf you are from Scandinavia (or anywhere else) and you want the lyrics, you could go here or here.
They all miss out my favourite those who are You can stick your *flippin'* flag up your a*£e link Seven SistersRandom selections from blogs by women. These are entirely subjective instinctive personal thoughts!
She links to an amusing site about the Southern States, especially Georgia. My mate and Helen changed planes in Georgia. I commented that I had Georgia on my mind. She pointed to the puddles on the ground and commented that it had been a rainy night in Georgia. Some good links, well written. She talks a lot about her baby, on the lines of "isn't he fabulous?" I'm not too taken on reading too much about other people's kids. I don't have any myself, at the moment, can't, and I don't think boring stories become interesting just because they feature kids. Some people do it well. For example, Tripewriting and Daisy (see right), talk about children/grandchildren in a normal way - ie they are people, with good bits and not-so-good bits, not merely a list of *amazing* accomplishments.
2. Along the Grant Vine Aggh, another family-centric Blog. All her friends are couples. It's not even a blog/journal - it's an old-fashioned homepage. Shudders
3. Scenic Route. I've been here before. I liked it enough to go back a little through time - she updates infrequently - but not enough to note it. I don't like it when you have to go back to an index to go back through the archives. A pleasant design, and she writes okay. But I just can't be bothered to do multiple clicks to find out more.
4. Cluttered Life. Irritatingly slow to load. In fact, so slow, I was able to go and buy a Mars Bar and a Creme Egg while it loaded. I liked the hand grenade story. This is someone who answers her Friday Five well, giving a little snapshot of her life...isn't this what it's for, rather than "Aw, that question is so like haaaaard!". It is well-designed (other than the slow load which may just be a transitory thing). She writes with an attention to detail and I shall trial her as a daily read for a week.
5. IceQueen's Fabulous Weblog. She blogs in tandem with a bloke who looks exactly like a chap called Phil I know from local pubs who works for Lloyds the insurance place. These two are Kiwis in New York. It's a bit confusing, with them both writing, and it's fairly interesting and neat-looking. Trouble is, she then admits she doesn't watch news and doesn't what's happening, then expresses opinions on what's happening. People should be cautious about expressing uninformed in opinions. She has an excellent list of google searches, many of then decidedly dodgy. No random option on webring so I had to go 'next'.
6. On the Bound. What is this thing in Friday Five? All these Americans seem to order fizzy drinks with their meals in restaurants. Is it because they are eating crap food at crap places? If I can't have wine with dinner, I'll have water. I've found a dozen or so American Friday Fivers who have expressed a preference for drinking foul tasting sick making artificially fizzed yuck with their food. Is it because they are forced to drive everywhere? Incredibly boring yawn yawn. I don't believe it! Another one without a random option. How dare she spoil my fun! I had to go to the list to throw up my seventh, which is...
7. Just Rilana. Her take on Palestine:
It seems that no one over there wants any peace. They just enjoy blowing themselves up for their cause. Things will never change. Sometimes i feel why bother?Writes about cats. Drinks Cola at restaurants. Likes the book and the film of Bridget Jones's Diary equally. Yeah, because they are so similar, right? Drops hints that she has a life, but forgets to actually talk about them. Except for the cats. I think I shall revisit this site occasionally, because I can't wait to see the cat cross-stitch. On the subject of Rilana's diary, Gert says "Sometimes i feel why bother? But I did an on-line quiz!
link Frustrating!I Snobjumped onto 5 sites and wrote thoughtful reviews. I posted and published, it was visible, then I realised that I had made a mistake. I edited it, but somehow managed to lose it. (I'm now publishing by w.Bloggar). I cannot find it in w.Bloggar nor in my Temporary Internet files. For the record, they are:
Pumpkin Juice.com Midnight Madness anonyblogger: hiding from scary ex-girlfriends clouds & tears barroomphilosophy Visit Pumpkin Juice, which is okay, and barroomphilosophy which I will try as a daily read for a week. The others aren't bad, but with so many Blogs and so little time, I doubt I will revisit. link HairdressersI made a long overdue visit to the haidressers today. I intended to go four weeks ago, but cancelled twice because of the chicken-pox. My usual hairdresser Suzy was not available: she's currently doing a colouring course, and is working half a week. Nevertheless, we had chance for a brief chat. The course sounds very technical. I had Bree (I don't know how to spell her name but that's how it sounds). She made a nice job of my hair, and was business-like ie she didn't yabba on about irrelevancies.
Agh, but the Shampoo girl...She explained to me that she was hungover, having gone drinking with her sister in Clapham, and she only had two glasses of wine, but she hadn't eaten, and it's that time of the month and she's on antibiotics. I should have told her that I do not go to the hairdressers to hear about the so-called life of the Saturday girls. One of the many things I like about my hairdressers is that all the stylists are intelligent and behave entirely professionally. link Boring weekendThis is becoming a bit of a habit. I described last Saturday how Jimmy had drunk too much and stormed off. Yesterday, when I was at work, he rung me, rather the worse for wear. I was not in a good position to talk, and did not say much, other than telling him that he was pissed. He rang me up half an hour later to say that he wanted a free weekend. I am determined not to be upset. I am not going to telephone him. He has got to realise that he must not treat me like this. I also know that when he's drinking heavily it's because he's stressed about problems usually created by his evil manipulative using ex-wife.
However, his drinking is unacceptable. He knows, really, that it could destroy him. He also knows that it could destroy our relationship. We do not see much of each other during the week. Indeed, yesterday, I had agreed to leave work early, despite the fact that my flexi sheet is too much in deficit, but I had a meeting with my manager about my annual report at four o'clock.
I do not mind Jimmy drinking during the week. I have been known to drink as well, often after meetings, sometimes with friends. However, he has to understand that I do not like him ringing me up drunk, especially if I'm in a situation, like work, when I can't really talk. Nor do I like him being rude to me. He also has to understand that I meant it last week when I said it is up to him to phone me and apologise, not be all proud and wait for me to make the first move. I, too, have my pride. I also have about six hours TV on tape to watch! link Slightly connected thoughtsI would like to thank Shelagh publicly for the helpful email on the questions I have about using, say, Moveable Type, for my blog/journal/thingy. I feel it's quite a big step for me to move off Blogger. I certainly will not do anything until I buy a new computer. I'm sorry if I am boring you with my procrastination about buying one. It should be a simple thing to do.
My main issue now is timing, or time. I should have done it while I was off sick, but I didn't know I was going to be sick. I need to find a day for them to deliver. It has to be a week day, which involves taking leave. Having been off sick, I don't feel that I can take too much leave. Where I work has a good attitude to working at home, whether that be for reasons of efficiency ie to write a report without distractions, or for personal convenience ie if you have to wait in for a delivery or repair that might only take quarter of an hour.
I do not feel, however, that getting a new computer delivered could be done when 'working at home'. With the most disciplined mind in the world, it would still take some hours to get the thing set up, (if you include minor things like customising your toolbars in Word) without the inevitable temptation to 'play' with a new toy.
I think before I have it delivered, I have to make sure that I have no evening commitments. I guess the most sensible time would be after the Local Elections. I'm having mega guilt trips about my lack of activity in the Local Elections, which are happening on 2 May. On Thursday, I received the electoral address from the three Labour candidates, Nick, Steve and Lydia. That gave me a strange feeling - for the past eight years I have been councillor for where I live, and I have only nineteen days left. I am assuaging my guilt slightly by being on the few Committees that continue. I substituted for Alex at last week's Planning, so that he could be at a meeting in his ward. I have informally agreed to do the same for Tim in a week's time, for the same reason. The Labour people on Licensing last week were Johanna, Chris and me. None of us is standing this time. Richard, who's not standing again, was unable to attend for family reasons. Ty - who's not standing again - was supposed to be there, but, for whatever reason, was not.
Politically, it's a slightly strange time. On the whole, people use Local Elections to register their views on national politics. This is less common in Lambeth, which has a history of being controversial and dysfunctional. We have now reached the situation that objective outside people praise the controlling Labour Group (and some extremely dedicated officers) for leading a process of change and improvement. Sometimes this involves unpopular decisions. Other times, there is simply not money to deliver what people want. Other times, 'better' is not good enough.
The Conservative party are virtually non-existent in all but the South East corner of the Borough. The second party is the Liberal Democrats. A few of their members are diligent in seeking to represent and help their constituents. Many others are skilled at turning non-issues into opportunities for self-publicity. Very few of them appear to have a strategic ability or understanding of how a large organisation works. Their budget proposals included cutting all expenditure on IT and staff training 'because this is not important to the people of Lambeth'. They proposed to cut a Council Tax which is already the Fifth Lowest in the Country. They are notorious for promising different things in the North and the South of the Borough.
We could end up in Lambeth with the public voting Lib Dem because, nationally, Charlie Kennedy is a likeable, intelligent, credible, left-of-centre critic of a Government that is not especially popular. They may end up electing a Liberal Democrat council, as a protest against the government, perhaps not even with the intention of electing a Lib Dem council, and without knowing that they are voting for a group of people who are nothing like Charlie Kennedy. Meanwhile, many 'natural' Labour voters may stay at home. I predict the turnout in my ward to be about the 25% it was four years ago, and the wards with the highest turnout will not be much above 50%, if that. link Nobody asked me!The Register has randomly gone up to people and asked them their passwords. link Hello and GoogleHello to the Norwegian fan of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. What do I mean, 'the'. I know very little about Norway but I have an impression it is a country full of intelligent, sensible people. I would hazard a guess, therefore, it is also full of fans of their wonderful striker, Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. Thank you for a Googleclimb that made me one out of 3180, with the words Solskjaer, my only. Yes, I know I got the words to the song wrong, but, I was feeling somewhat manic at the time!
Another Becks search - David Beckham bus. It is a little known fact that David Beckham, superstar though he is, is so modest, and so in touch with his fans, travels everywhere by bus (or tram). He spurns flash cars, and is always courteous to the bus driver. He usually gives up his seat to elderly and infirm people, or those with heavy shopping, but because he has a broken ankle at the moment, he is apologising and saying it is difficult for him to stand on the long bus journey from his home to the United training ground.
Mad TV Stuart look at me. Whatever gives you a thrill, I suppose!
When I went to Taco Shop Psychic, the Blogsnob ad was for Bingobowden's Rants 'n' Stuff. I have never before found one site that I visit frequently randomly plugging another of my frequently visited sites! I'm not sure that I particularly look - I guess some people place the ad more prominently than others do.
(Update two hours later) Varadero bitch...????? I am lost for words at why somebody thinks thatthey are going to find a website that has a relevant coupling of a Caribbean resort and a derogatory term for a woman. Did they mean 'beach' and are either, too stupid or too distracted, to distinguish between the two...Life's a Beach/Life's a Bitch...no, I still don't get it! link Friday, April 12 Google searchesHmm, not bad. Number 4 for David Beckham broken ankle - I'm even above the BBC. I'm afraid, though, I have no pictures of David's injury.
Opera Comapnies (sic) South America. 2nd on the list. Almost Googleclimbing. Don't criticise my typing! link Hello!To my reader in Saudi Arabia.
link Cash machinesA few months ago the Happy Shopper on my road installed a free-standing cash machine. I have tried to avoid using it, because it charges £1.25 for the privilige of accessing your own
Jimmy phoned me at work to tell me that there was a fault with the machine - it was paying out double what people requested, yet providing a receipt for the amount requested. Word soon spread round the neighbourhood and there were queues down the road. It ran out of money at about half five. He pointed out to me that I have his only plastic card - he is a cash trader so tends to pay money in, rather than take it out. I don't think he knows his PIN!
Although I found it an amusing anecdote, my audit brain started working. People will get a shock if their bank statements show what they got rather than what they requested. Many will have thrown away their receipts. For those who have retained their receipts, will they be able to 'prove' to the bank that they only got out what they requested? Or will the banks take the view that they acted in the knowledge of what was happening?
At about the same time I received an email at work about a warning the Halifax sent out. There is a new scam in town. Basically, fraudsters are putting plastic pockets into cash machines. You put your card in and type your PIN. It doesn't register, so you try again, and again, and again. Finally, you decide that the machine has swallowed your card, and you walk away. Meanwhile the fraudster has watched you key your PIN, and once you are gone, will take the card and plastic pocket out, put in your card, key your PIN and raid your account. The lesson is, before you use the machine, run your finger in the slot - the pocket will have two spikes that enables the fraudster to remove it.
It sounded scary when I read it, but, I think, it is not so bad. Firstly, I rarely go to a cash machine without first joining a queue. I would notice if the person in front of me was having a problem. And I would certainly notice if someone jumped in front of me to insert the plastic pocket to defraud me.
Secondly, nobody sees me key my PIN. If people are hovering I turn round, glare at them and go into such contortions so that even I can't see what I'm keying. But perhaps it's easy for me to be wise, armed with knowledge.
link Stupid, stupid, stupid...Thank you for your comments below. I noticed the spelling mistake after I read my comments. I know I get on my high horse about spelling, making me a fair target when I make a howler. To be blunt, I cannot type. When I work in Word, my screen is blood red with wiggly lines.
I would guess that about half of them are due to my problems withthe space bar - that big thing tot he bottom of the keyboard. Another forty per cent are due to me tpying the letters in the wrong order. Nine per cent are when I mange to foget to type a letter, or puttting an extra one in. The remainder are because I actually do not know how to spell the word. I used to have terrible problems with 'accommodation' until I had to write a 6,000 word project as part of my Professional Training. I did a costing exercise for a small Government Agency and apportioned many of the costs on the basis of accommodation. I finally got to the point where my instinct told me it has two 'm's.
No I will not be able to recreate the spontaneous. However, quite a lot of us spend quite a lot of our lives trying. Holidays, sex, a good night out...we plan to recreate the pleasure, little realising that part of the pleasure stemmed from it being unplanned. link < | |
