Old Kinglear and the Lord of the Rings

Old Kinglear has been in my mind a lot recently.
Partly this is because there have been ads for the Glasgow Memory Clinic on the local radio, and I underwent a drugs trial there to try to help with Alzheimer's, which is what OKL died of.
More importantly, a first edition of The Lord of the Rings recently sold for quite a lot of money, and I have a set.
I will never sell it, though, as it was given me by my father when I was about 7. Quite young you might think to be given such a book, but I was a voracious reader and regularly got through 2 or 3 a day of the Famous Five and the like, and OKL decided I needed some meat.
But why did he give me that particular trilogy?
I suppose in a sense it's now the most famous book of all time after the Bible ( I'm sure you all have other candidates) and The Godfather, or Peyton Place. But at it's first publication, Tolkien was almost unknown.
My father heard of the book whilst in Switzerland. It hadn't been translated at the time, but OKL was always one for gathering information - I think now such people are called mavens.
He walked into a bookshop in Berne, and happened to meet up with the then First Secretary in the UK Embassy there.
OKL had known him years before when he was Third Secretary. The budding Ambassador had then been moved to Paris as Second Secretary, and was now back in Berne as First Secretary. They chatted for a while, and then my father asked him what he was looking for.
" Well, when I was at University I was taught by a chap called Tolkien, and I'd heard on the grapevine he's got a book out."
As an aside, I'm not sure how being taught by Tolkien would have prepared anyone for the Diplomatic, but never mind.
Father was instantly interested and asked where he could get a copy.
" Oh, you can have mine. I'm actually back here returning it. It's a children's fairy story really. But it's for children."
Father was delighted and paid the enormous sum of, I think, £1.50 for the trilogy.
He never read it of course, but regularly asked me as I struggled through it how I liked it, and was permanently delighted to hear it was great.
" Ha," he would say with glee ," I know more than that idiot."

Scots Wha hae!

Being Scottish lays certain duties on a person.
One is to correct sassenachs who refer to us as " the Scotch" " Scotchmen" or " Scotties"PLEASE can we get this right.You are a Scot, or Scottish, or a Scotsman ( or woman).You are NOT a Scotchman - unless, as I have tried to point out, you drink Scotch ( a whisky, NOT whiskey which is Irish), in which case you are a Scotch-man. You are also not a Scotty - that's a dog. It's very feisty and sure of its's own self.
How would the English like it if they were referred to as Englandmen? Or Englishers? Mind you, they don't have a national drink ( except, I suppose, warm flat beer)and WE have a second National drink - Irn Bru ( Made in Scotland from Girders.)

500 posts up

Gosh, doesn't time fly when you're having fun?

That Glasgow diet

I was taking the Dog for its walk this morning when I was joined by Another Walker.
We were remarking that there was a dearth of ducklings and the cygnets had not yet made their appearance.
A little girl and her mum were throwing stale bread in the general vicinity of ducks, gulls, pigeons, coots and one swan. There are signs all over the place saying please don't do this, but I guess they were exercising their democratic right to do what they like.
As we watched, the Other Walker turned to me and said. " Those are definitely Glasgow swans"
To be fair I'd never thought of them as anything else, but he went on. " I feed them chips sometimes. They really like the soggy ones."

Boobs and Burma.

I spent the afternoon at a place called Xscape just outside Glasgow. It's a sort of semi-adult playground, where it appeared all ages were enjoying themselves.
The reason I was there was because Mrs. Lear couldn't get anyone else to help out collecting for Save the Children. I had already told her that, when I had mentioned this to odd people the day before I got several " I hope your not collecting for that Burma lot."
I'm used to collecting for the Gurkha Welfare Trust, when people come up to you all the time, pour money into your tin, and tell you interesting stories, and I was quite unprepared for the indifference to Save the Children, and the collection for Burma in particular.
I was approached by one person, who, instead of reaching for her wallet said " You should be ashamed of yourself collecting for those Generals. I hope they get all the diseases the country's getting." Another said " You should be collecting for China - they've done the job properly."
Needless to say, I didn't collect very much. One person was actually putting money in the bucket, then saw the poster, " Oh no, not for them" and walked away.
We may think the Great British Public doesn't pay attention, but the ones on display today certainly knew what they wanted - and more importantly, didn't want.
But to the boobs.
The weather was all right, warmish and not raining, but definitely not summer. That didn't seem to have stopped the girls and women from exposing acres of their upper torsos.
Apart from the 11 and 12 year olds, going on 30, and the 14 or 16 year olds with exceptionally gormless boyfriends, the vast majority of women walking towards me were large bosomed.
I was put in mind of the excellent Peter Sellers, and his " Balham, Gateway to the South." There's a poem in it that starts " Broad bosomed, bold, becalmed benign, stands Balham, full square on the Northern line". Certainly the ladies walking towards me would have qualified as "Broad bosomed"
Over 30 years ago when Mrs. Lear was having babies, she had a gynea, who had gone to New Zealand for 5 years, then returned to his native Glasgow.
He always told the story of going into his clinic waiting room in Auckland and seeing a long line of tall and blond women waiting for him. Halfway along the line was always a creature a good foot shorter, with big boobs. She always turned out to have been born in Glasgow, or her parents had.
His view was it was something in the water - or the diet - that had this strange effect. Women from Aberdeen or Dundee or Edinburgh don't seem to have the same shape at all.
So my conclusion today was that Glasgow women are still eating the fried Mars bars and drinking ginger **.
And good luck to them.

** " ginger" = generic name used in Glasgow for all and every fizzy drink.

Education Education Education.

The youngest Ms. Lear was on the phone last night. It's always lovely to hear what she is up to as it contrasts completely with what I do and what her sisters do, and frequently makes me think more deeply about how bad things really are in this country.
Having spent 4 years at University in America, she is very much in tune with how American politics is framed, and how its beginning to get here. The abortion debate is one such area where party lines pretty much divide the issue.
But the most interesting part of her conversation last night was about the safety net people enjoy. In the UK, of course, its much stronger than in the US, but here NuLabour have effectively suborned it to create a client state that will always vote for them. Unfortunately for NuLabour, most of them don't bother to vote - as Mrs. T said " I'm for the workers not the shirkers". Of course, NuLabour is effectively dead ( if it ever really existed except as Our Tone's non-existent Third Way to gather votes) and will shortly be replaced by proper Old Labour - ie the opposition until the NEW NuLabour rises in about 15 or 20 years time.
It's undeniable that Brown's incompetence and Stalinist clunkiness has effectively stopped social mobility within the UK, and this, more than anything, is perhaps the reason so many of the people who voted Mrs. T in have finally abandoned NuLabour . They rather liked that nice Mr. Blair ( Our Tone as the Sun always called him) who seemed to share their aspirations.
But that Brown, he doesn't share anything with us. He wants to control us and take away our autonomy. Of course, they don't frame it in those terms, but when they reach for the fiver for the next round and it's not there, and they see lots of ne'er do wells getting freebies, they know for sure that's not what they wanted when they voted for Labour.
So what should the safety net be? Surely it needs to be the ability to stand on your own feet. I accept there will always be some who cannot for a variety of reasons, but I refuse to believe that 5 odd million people in this country are incapable of some work.
The Americans have done some very good and forward looking work on this which appears to be capable of scaling up and being helpful. But the one thing that differentiates people - beyond a certain native wit - is education. Ms. Lear made this point forcefully last night.
Blair was absolutely right ( and spoke to the masses) when he said his three priorities were Education Education Education - they believed him and voted for it.
Blair's problem was he also told everyone he would fix the NHS, poverty, the police, crime, immigration and everything else. He did it to be sure of getting into power - remember, he even set up a deal with the LibDems, which, after the election of 1997, he conveniently forgot. In the event, Brown spent our money to absolutely no purpose whatsoever in any department. As a result he has managed to alienate every single section of society - even the people who have benefited.
I've long believed that government's - any government's - greatest failure is not getting people properly educated.
I'm not calling for the moon. I just want people to be able to read and write, have some knowledge of geography ( quiz the other day: Question: what's the capital of Finland? Answer: Holland - right first letter I suppose), history, both world and UK, be able to cook a little, clean a house , know how to balance a bank account and perhaps most important of all understand about contraception. They have to understand good behaviour, right and wrong, and respect - and not the insanity we have at the moment where people get stabbed for " Not showin' me da respec'." And I mean both girls and boys.
Failure actually has to exist. Don't pass your end of year exams? Repeat the year until you do. Have a sense of achievement.
I know that's old fashioned. But unless we start moving up the education scale ( we've dropped dramatically over the last ten years) we will end up having to do the jobs we presently have Filipinos, Romanians, Poles and Asians doing for peanuts. Our Universities, because of insane anti-selection policies, have fewer children from worse off homes than they used to, and only Oxford and Cambridge remain - just - in the top ten worldwide. Brown and his ministers, even the majority of the Guardian head honchos, all benefited from selection in education - but want to deny it to others.
Its at least a two-term - if not three-term - job but DC and the Tories have to get this one thing right - or all else will be unaffordable.
And without it we won't be worth any more than the scraps from the rich man's table of well-educated hardworking nations like - oh, say, anywhere in Asia really.

C & N and what it means

If you believe the spin today, Labour never thought they would win, and they expected a good kicking, and the Toff jibes and the racial slurs and the lies about Timpson personally " were an attempt to inject some fun into the proceedings".
As a friend of mine frequently says " I DON'T think so!!"
What it means is we will have a Tory government next time round with a workable majority at least ( and potentially a landslide) and there will be many fewer LibDems as well.
The people who voted for Mrs. T who left her for Tony Blair ( and it was Blair they went for, not Labour itself) have now decided Brown is not Blair, and they never liked what Labour has done to them. Originally, they thought they were prepared to pay more for better schools, NHS, police etc etc, but now they have seen the complete lack of any real progress, they want their money back.
Clinton had it right with " It's the economy, stupid". Brown unfortunately has no understanding of people, economics or life and aspirations, and never will.
When Blair talked of a " big clunking fist" he was actually being very astute. Brown is clunking in every department, and he only has one mode - the fist.
As the ineffable Mohamed Ali said " Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee - rumble young man rumble MMHMM"
Cameron is doing it perfectly.
UPDATE 1: Fraser Nelson on Coffee House has a lovely little snipette - as he says, we no longer need to bother about Labour's long term plans. There aren't any - and truth be told they probably never had any apart from GETTING POWER!!!!
What a waste they've been.
UPDATE 2: A commonly-used phrase by doctors, writing up a patient's notes in the good old days, was: "Requires a Timpsons Enema."
It meant:"Needs a boot up the arse."
Ironic that a Timpson, from the family that gave us the phrase, should deliver the biggest boot up the arse of the Labour party.
Serves them right.

America again

Winchester Whisperer has a nice piece about Mr. and Mrs. America making a few adjustments. It means very little to their lifestyle overall, and not that much to their economy - but watch for 2009 moving on up.

HBOS and £500,000,000

You will probably have read in the papers that HBOS has floated off some £500million of mortgage debt.
This is good news as its the first easing proper we have seen in the mortgage market.
But before we all go wild, the average loan-to-value is 61% ( so undeniably above water even if prices fall by 38%) and the average price they are paying is 1.5% higher than they were paying before last October, when Base rate was .75% lower.
As a senior banker said to me the other day - " It's simple. We are paying 1.5-2% more for our money now than we were a year ago. The punter has to pay that. One of the ways we can squeeze up the price is by restricting mortgages for a bit, and then people don't mind paying the extra when they get desperate."
So there you have it. Economics triumphs again. Reduce the supply, up goes the price.
And actually, no one seems to be blaming the banks too much - apart from Brown and Darling who don't even understand that when you want to make a trade, you keep quiet until after you've done it.
Postscript
I had a meeting with an HBOS executive today for one of the charities I'm involved in. He simply gave us the money. " After all," he said," We know you". So remember, even though the old fashioned banker/client relationship may be dead, they still believe in it.

Home sales in California jump nearly 27 percent

Sales of new property in California jumped nearly 27 percent
from March to April as bargain hunters found it easier to get loans and pick up
property on the cheap.
Something like 37,000 houses were sold in the month, or about 27% in one month in one State of the TOTAL UK new house sales.
The prices were marginally down month on month, and about 28% down on a year ago.
If you have been paying attention, you will know I have great respect for the fluidity and flexibility of the US economy.
Two years ago, a particular house ( excluding land) cost about $190,000 to build.
Now, that same house only costs about $120,000. How? Partly it's explained by the fact that the product mix in US houses is quite different from ours, with lumber being a big input. Contractors have squeezed prices hard, so that only the most efficient mills can keep going. In Canada, which exported over 70% of it's lumber from generally older mills to the US, the industry is in serious trouble - the Yanks are hardly taking anything from over the border.
But my point is twofold. Firstly, houses are approaching a price in the US that people recognise as value. Secondly, even the bankers are realising the same thing and are prepared to bet some money on it.
The US is not out of its problems yet, but its already looking towards the next boom.
Unfortunately, we aren't.

John Swinney

I was invited this afternoon to a seminar which included the above gentleman as the keynote speaker.
I'm not an SNP supporter, but if Swinney is true to his word, all of us in Scotland might just vote for him. On the other hand, he IS a politician ( and a bloody good one at that)
He spoke well, but for me there were two points at which I thought " Yes."
The first was that the piece of paper he carried around with him at the Holyrood elections last year, and which he used at the first " Cabinet" meeting thereafter said " We will make Scotland grow economically and sustainably". Brown may have thought he would do this for the UK, but unfortunately his ideology and complete lack of understanding of economics, markets or even how to make a trade blew that one out of the water.
Swinney went on to say that the critical thing about the sustainability part of his dictum was making sure that everything in Government, local Government, the Health Service, and every other Government connected body all pulled in the same direction and were focused , not on a quick fix which could fall apart just as quickly, but on a long term sustainable position.
He made the point that he and his colleagues were about to launch metrics by which their performance could be measured, " For, " he said, " Why are we bothering to do anything otherwise?" His goal was nothing less than raising Scotland's average growth rate ( which over the last 30 years has averaged about 1.8% pa) up to the same level as the UK ( about 2.7%). This would have profound effects on Scotland's prosperity.
The second point where I was silently saying " Yes!" to myself was when a questioner said "That's all very well, but with your tax varying powers, surely you're going to squeeze that prosperity with higher taxes."
Swinney smiled.
" Let me answer that with a story. In 1992, when I was working for Scottish Amicable, I was given the job of finding the perfect spot for our European headquarters.
We could have chosen anywhere, and I had visions of jetting around Europe on expenses for some months.
The only problem was, I started - not by booking the airline tickets - but by doing some basic taxation research.
I never even left the office. Ireland had just started it's low tax regime for companies. It was such a complete and utter stand out that I simply told my Director that we should put the headquarters in Dublin.
Dublin now has it's own huge financial services sector, which didn't exist 16 years ago - sustainable, high value jobs"
Now OK he's a politician trying to sell his wares, but if he genuinely goes down the low company tax route, Scotland will be rich and happy.
And so will I.

60th. Birthday party

My brother-in-law turned 60 during the week, and his sister, Mrs. Lear, hosted his party last night.
Lots of old friends and family ploughed through champagne, wine, digestifs, salmon, panacotta etc etc, and I did the washing up. I did, contrary to my usual rule in UK, toast the birthday boy with a mini-glass of bubbly.
What it did make me think about was the way connections remain. Some of the people had not been seen by the BiL for more than 30 years, but they still turned up and enjoyed the reunion. This being the West of Scotland, my generation are still pretty much all here - as are the generation before and the one before that. Many years ago when Mrs. Lear and I might have gone to live abroad, one of the thoughts we used to iterate frequently was that anyone we knew would still be here if we ever came back. In the event we stayed here - and yes the others are still all here.
My children's generation, however, are much more likely to have moved away.
Two of the three Ms. Lears are in London, having been in France and America, and the Middle East, whilst their friends from when they were little are also largely removed elsewhere.
Its a phenomenon that has probably been around in England for a long time, but here it's quite new, and has resulted in a generation of people either already grandparents or approaching that state who are wondering if they should move to be nearer the children.
I simply pose this as a question, not in any pejorative way, but why should they move? Should the children not have to deal with their own children, rather than having grannie exhausting herself three or four days a week looking after them? My generation had little or no help from the ancient Ps when the children were small. Why shouldn't my generation simply do their own thing and leave the children to get on with it?
Personally, I have every intention of not being a doting grandparent.
Mrs. Lear says I bored everyone to death about my own children, and she's sure I will do the same with any grandchildren.
And will insist on them being brought frequently to be looked after.

The Manchester Riot

Well, it was bound to happen. A woman on the radio says the Rangers fans were all incredibly well behaved, that they only attacked the Police when the riot police came in ( er why did they need the riot police again?) - and after all, of course one throws stuff ( metal objects and the like) at heavily armored police, rather than walk away.
She also said that she had gone to ask what was happening of one of the riot police, who told her to get the F out of the way, " and that's what started the riot."
Hmm. Strikes me that people going up to riot police and asking them questions are a tad more likely to be in trouble rather than avoiding it.
I did see a selection of fans returning to Glasgow yesterday afternoon.
They looked tired.

The way we live now.

Whilst in the park the other day, a young family was watching the drakes chasing lady ducks.
" Who's that then?" asked the 3 or 4 year old little girl, pointing.
" That's the man duck's girlfriend " said her mother.
" So where are the baby ducks then?"
" Oh I expect they've left home already."
" Have they got another daddy?"
I didn't overhear the rest of the conversation as I was walking, but a couple of points emerge.
1) Even at age 3 or so, children are being told that men have girlfriends - not wives.
2) The children automatically assume that a man and girlfriend will have babies.
3)... and then the girlfriend will move on and the babies will get another daddy.
Terrifying.

A Secretary's aspiration.

Others will be wondering why the sudden early release of Cherie, Prescott and Levy books, but the clear message is that Gordon won't be around long enough for anyone to be interested in them soon.
This is a mixed blessing for the Tories - GB is their best vote winner at the moment.
The story that stood out for me in the Cherie interview was her remark about Brown's "stinginess".
" He couldn't understand " she said " that a secretary on £18,000 pa wants to shop at Selfridges."
I think this sums the man up perfectly. He just simply does NOT understand aspiration, thinking people ought to be given things and be damned grateful too.
Except people aren't like that. The more they are given , the less it is appreciated. The more you earn yourself the more you appreciate it.
GB simply doesn't understand. Bliar's genius was that he did understand that people had aspirations, and he played mercilessly on them.
Brown will go down as the worst Chancellor and the worst Prime Minister ever, not for his incompetence and lack of economic, trading, or general business sense and understanding, but for the fact that he simply does not understand his fellow human beings.
Makes me almost sorry for him.
Almost.

True at all times

Charles Clarke apparently has a quotation posted above his desk, written by the American trade unionist Samuel Gompers, headed, "What does Labor Want?". The answer, set out by Gompers, was: "We want more school houses and less jails; more books and less arsenals; more learning and less vice; more constant work and less crime; more leisure and less greed; more justice and less revenge; in fact more opportunities to cultivate our better natures."
Now I have to say I'm not sure US Labor is the same as our Labour. In fact, I'm pretty sure the two are distinctly different, especially as American Labor tends NOT to want to bring down the "toffs", wishing to be upwardly mobile and join them - something our present Stalinist Government won't allow anyone other than themselves to do.
What I am sure about is that the sentiments expressed by Gompers are compatible with all political parties and all classes, and, as such, ought to be the bedrock of any political party in our nascent 21st Century.
The Left as such, largely a creation after the 1918 war in the UK, has run its course. People now insist on individual freedom and the right to self-responsibility. Strangely, the very " rights and responsibilities" as drafted by NuLabour have helped to alienate all the people Bliar managed to bring together in 1997.
It will be a very long time - if ever - before Labour gets into power again. I can see a situation where, without Scotland and Wales, they take the third party position presently occupied by the LibDems.
After all, they polled third last week.
POSTSCRIPT:
If Crewe and Nantwich turns out anywhere near the ICM poll results just out, every Labour MP will clamour for "something to be done"

ONLY 26%...

ahead. Weirdly, that might make things easier for GB. If he's so far behind no one will want to change him for themselves. Now, he has nothing to lose.

Wife in the North....

.... in case you haven't heard, voted Tory for the first time in her life last week.
And, as she says, her writing hand did not blacken and shrivel and drop off.
Now I can only say that this is the woman ( multiplied by many many thousands) who voted in Tony Blair.
So if she really has returned to her rightful mind ( that's to do with being on the right, NOT from insanity... oh well, please yourself) then her sisters and brother, husbands and friends, will all have done so as well.
So it's goodnight & goodbye from Gordon and it's goodnight & goodbye from him.

TELL YOUR MP TO GET THE FACTS!

I don't read Right for Scotland on a regular basis, but this post makes for seriously interesting reading.
In essence the debate about 28 days or 42 days of detention is rubbish. From computers the whole thing can actually be done in 2 or 3 days, and then an interrogation of suspects where the police actually have all the answers and they either admit it, and get a reduced sentence, or don't, and get a longer one.
As RFS says, viewers of The Bill will know it as CrimInt.
So when Mr. Brown talks crap in the HoC, get your MP to stand up and tell him so.

Smart People..

.. is a new film with Dennis Quaid ( he of the Jack Nicholson somewhat persuasion) and Sarah Jessica Parker ( who doesn't really matter). It's a lovely film about Quaid being jolted out of his misery, and has in particular two wonderful lines.
One is from a poem by William Carlos Williams - " Everybody must have a red wheelbarrow". Actually that's not a quote from the poem itself - the poem is:

so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.

And reams and reams have been written about it.
But the thought in the film is that, to be human, you need the Red Wheelbarrow.
And the rain and chickens too, I would think.
But the other line made me howl with laughter.
Quaid's wife had died some year's before and he makes it to bed with SJP, and she makes him put on a condom.
Fair enough.
Except a few months later, she discovers she's pregnant.
When he eventually finds out, he says, " But how?
And SJP says " Because you don't know how to put a condom on properly."
The point, of course, is that's exactly how you make a human.

BJ v.GB

I was re-reading one of Boris's dispatches today and was struck by the following phrase:
"We do what we do because we hope to achieve happiness"
He was talking particularly about Gordon Brown and his lack of any apparent joy in anything he does.Boris, I'm sure, finds lots of happiness every day.
I'm quite sure we try to earn money, try to educate ourselves and our children, try to make our extended families cohesive, all in the name of hoping to achieve happiness.
If he extends that to his new job as Mayor of London, I'm willing to bet that living there will be less like being in purgatory and more pleasant.
And make us happier.

What Economics can do for you

Being an economist from 1968 at the LSE, I KNOW that economics is actually the magic answer of " 42" - the answer to everything.
People think of economics in terms of money, but in reality, the medium of exchange can be lots of different things, only one of which is money.
So it was without surprise that I read today of a second FTSE 100 company decamping to Ireland.
The cost is tiny compared to the cost of staying and paying this government's taxes.
The Tories, when they get in, will have a big problem sorting this mess out, but they could start by making a flat rate tax - very appealing.
I've lived long enough to have seen three changes of power from Labour to Tory - and hope shortly to see a fourth.
After WW2, the whole country was so exhausted and bankrupt, that, to be fair, nothing would have worked. It was only after the Tories came back in in 1951 that things began, very slowly to pick up - and that because Keynes killed himself getting the Americans to help out.
The 60s had Wilson and his white heat of technology - only he cancelled TSR2 and Blue Streak and Tony Benn felt companies should be made to pay for their excessive profits - even though they were non-existent. Heath came in - regretfully he had little idea about economics, and Barber, his Chancellor, even less.
But in the 15 years from Wilson's first government to Callaghan's last in 1979, Labour dominated the economic thinking.
So by 1979 everyone was generally agreed that the UK was finished. Mrs.T saved us, and she and Major left such an excellent economic legacy that it has taken 11 years for this present Labour lot to squander it.
We will have the same effect again - Labour have ruined it, Tories will slowly sort it.
And all because Labour always try to dictate the market.
You can't.
The market will always win.
As I always say, London gets fed and watered every day.
And noone tells anyone how to do it. But economics makes it work.

Afghanistan

Just thought you might like to see where our boys - and Prince Harry - are fighting.

Oh, and just in case you missed it, the announcement of better terms for injured soldiers just happens to have been put out before the May elections.

There is nothing this pathetic, cynical and discredited government will not do to try to keep in power, including climbing over our injured soldiers.

Shame on them.

S&M an Last Man Standing

Chris Dillow has an interesting post here on his move to Rutland.
But if you read Wiki on Nietzsche, it has a telling line: "This 'Ubermensch' may be contrasted to a weak-willed individual, one who is tired of life, takes no risks, seeks only comfort and security: the Last Man. The last man would be the product of socialism, democracy and other egalitarian belief systems.[1]"
And further: "Nietzsche saw that nothing great is possible for the Last Man, and it is Nietzsche's contention that Western civilization (Europe) is moving in the direction of the last man, an apathetic creature, who has no great passion or commitment, who is unable to dream, who merely earns his living and keeps warm."
Now I know I'm on the right, but this looks awfully awfully like Broon the Gloom, don't you think?

Mr. Swann, Ms. Bird & Mr. Cobb

You may not believe what I am about to write, but I promise you it's true.
In our park we have a nesting couple of swans, and the cob is seriously protective.
The other day another cob appeared on the scene and our daddy swan gave it a right doing.
Bloodied and somewhat confused, the poor thing staggered onto the main road, where it was picked up by a Mr. Swann. A car driving past stopped, and in it was Jackie Bird, a well known Scottish TV presenter.
Between them, they took it down to Hessilhead, where a Mr. Cobb cared for it.
Extraordinary.

Morals

Been in London for a few days which always takes forever to achieve anything.
The highpoint was a trip along the Regents and the Grand Union Canal on Thursday afternoon with the " Jason"- decidedly pleasant if a touch chilly, even in the sunshine. Lunch on another narrow boat in Little Venice was delightfully eccentric.
Catching up with the post on my return, I chanced across a magazine from The Alliance Trust of Dundee, which was talking about a Trust it invests in called Charter Trust & Agency.
Founded in 1907, there was a list of founding shareholders.
They are a fascinating mob - a count, a baron, Jesse Watson from Edinburgh ( married woman & clearly seriously wealthy), Barrister, butcher, the list goes on.
But the most interesting entries are side by side. John Anderson, reverend, from Loughborough, has 6 shares, and beside it Marie Burel, from Neuilly, France has an interest in these as well. Her profession is described as " Madam"
Now please note this is not Madame as in French married woman, it is Madam, as in a person who runs brothels.
Either she gave the rev. the shares for his good works, or he gave them to her in payment.
Or they bought them together.
In any event, I feel we were more honest about relationships then than we are now. They might have been hidden from gaze more, but people took responsibility for their actions. Nowadays we have an extremely expensive agency which does a very bad job of tracking down errant fathers. Then, the father made provision.
In my own family, coming from the wrong side of the blanket, the first of our line was educated and supported as was his serving maid mother by the 63 year old Lord who fathered him.
It's what was considered right & proper.
Now, everyone just tries to escape the consequences of their actions.

True love

The step-granny was over for lunch today, and much of the talk turned to the war years, when she was a child in Goa.
Her father, in charge of Burma Oil there, was also the Honorary British Consul. There were apparently many whispered conversations on the veranda of an evening as messages were decoded, then the replies coded and sent back.
As a child, the step-granny noticed one day that there were two German ships and one Japanese in the bay. She was shortly to go into the hills for the hot season, and thought no more about it until her return a couple of months later - when the ships were all sitting with just the tops of their masts showing. She was told they had scuttled themselves.
Many years later she discovered that the Calcutta equivalent of Dad's Army had come down from the north, donned goggles and flippers, pushed out explosives on little rafts, and blown chunks out of all three ships simultaneously.Bear in mind these where all elderly men and probably had to swim a couple of miles in each direction. We Brits are best when improvising and making do, and being amateur.
One day the Honorary Consul was visited by an attractive lady who asked if he could find out if her husband was dead or alive. He had been captured at the fall of Singapore, and she had had no word for over three years. In the bay were a Swedish and a Japanese ship that were exchanging prisoners. She had heard, from her post in Madras hundreds of miles away, that this exchange was to take place, and she wondered if the British being exchanged might have some word of her husband.
The HC told her to come back the next day, which she duly did.
She was told that he was not on the ship, but that one of the men on board knew her husband, knew he was alive, and thought he might yet be exchanged.
" Thank you" said the Lady " This is the 40th. exchange I have come to see, and the first word I've had."
" How marvellous " said the HC ." What devotion!"
The lady smiled.
" Not at all. When you truly love, nothing else means anything."

Two Swans in the Park

" Morning dear. Did you sleep well?"
" Sleep well? How dare you! How could I sleep well with 6 great hard hulking lumps under me! This is all your fault - that's the last time I let you come anywhere near me."
" Now dear, you know you're only just saying that - you don't mean it."
" Don't mean it? I tell you, when this lot hatch I'm off. No more of this producing eggs and sitting on them for months. And what do you get at the end? No bloody gratitude, I can tell you. And I'll have lost my attraction for you and you'll be off with that younger swan from the other side of the pond."
Some weeks go by.
" Morning dear, did you sleep well?"
" Sleep well? You must be joking. It's all very well for you Mrs., you just had to sit there to hatch them, I've had them under me jiggling about for days now whilst you float around with your head gracefully tucked under your wing."
"Aw but they're sweet, and follow me around all day cheeping."
" .. And keeping me awake during the day too! I can tell you, the minute their feathers start to go white I'm off."
So you see, whether you're a cob or a pen, raising babies is no fun. Which is pretty much the same for humans.
Once they turn about 25 it's not so bad.

Making Friends

S&M has a piece from a few days ago that I missed in connection with Longevity, Success & Friendship.
In essence, the more successful you are the longer you tend to live.
But as the post says, people who are Oscar-winning scriptwriters tend to die younger than mere nominees.
His theory is - I think - something we should all aspire to.
Because you are successful you tend to have people gravitate towards you and become friends.
But as an Oscar-winning scriptwriter, because writing is essentially a solitary pursuit, you tend to lose friends. The reason is the more successful you are in this department the more you work and the less you see friends - or make them.
So we should work less and make more friends - you know it makes sense.

Labour's lack of ANY ideas

Iain Dale has a fine piece on today's First Minister's Questions ( in case you don't know this is the weekly occasion in Holyrood when Alex Salmond swats the Labourites like flies, and purrs to the Tories - if he can get them on board he's cracked it).
In essence, Wee Wendy IS the Leader of the Scottish Opposition, and has 3 questions.
Except... today she could only come up with two.
Shows just how devoid of ideas Labour really is.

Aunties

Regretfully, I have no blood-Aunts still alive. I still have a couple of the courtesy Aunts that as a little boy were friends of my mother, and, as I think we all were, was encouraged to call "Auntie".
All of them - real and courtesy - were, in my memory, eccentric. They had all had good wars ( I always thought they had the time of their lives then) and much of their conversation in the 50s and early 60s still reflected that.
One always referred to her "target for tonight" ( which I now know was usually a good looking chap), whilst another would ask of young people " Would you be young always if you could choose?" and then burst into uncontrollable laughter. I think this is because they loved being a bit older and hence free from supervision.
The one I never understood was " Many are called ( Scottish for cold) but few are frozen". This is presumably a bastardisation of " Many are called but few are chosen". I now think this referred to her many "beaus" and the very few she turned down.
My musings today were prompted by a story about a lady assaulting a police officer. She had punched and kicked him and the poor young man " sustained injuries" - goes to show how pathetic our police are nowadays. In the old days the cuffs would have been on before you could blink.
Anyway, two of my blood aunts had gone to a fishmongers to get dressed crab for their dinner. Unfortunately it was not ready so they repaired to the pub next door - and stayed there until closing time at 2:30. They still had closing time in the 50s.
When they came out, they weaved into the fish-shop, collected the crab, and started to wander home. The crab was on plates and was permanently in peril of landing face down on the pavement.
The village Bobby met them half-way up the street.
" Afternoon Mrs. Marshall - can I just help you with those plates?"
My Aunt drew herself up to her full height.
" Young man, I am perfectly capable of placing these plates precisely where I wish!"
" Yes I'm sure you are, but I just wanted to help." Whereupon the other Aunt chimed in.." And I can too!" grabbed one of the plates and deposited it perfectly on top of the policeman's helmet.
Which was fine until it fell off, all down his uniform, and he bent down to survey the damage.
Whereupon Aunt 1 deposited the second plate upside down on the back of his neck.
At the subsequent trial the Magistrates were so unable to control their hysterics that the case was adjourned sine die.

Macca long before Mucca

I used to shoot down on the Mull of Kintyre, very close to where Paul McCartney still has his Highland Estate.
When he and his extended family first moved there, one of the local farmers ( nearest the big hoose) decided it was only polite and neighbourly to ask, at the least, if he and his family would like to drop in for tea one day.
Much to Willie's astonishment, Macca said they would love to - which naturally set the cat amongst the pigeons as far as Willie's wife was concerned.
There was much baking and cleaning and general sprucing up.
The great day dawned and the McCartney family descended on the farmhouse for tea.
Needless to say it was excellent, and the two families got on really well. After tea all the children all went into the snug to watch the television.
Willie's wife had always been a great fan, and mentioned several of the gigs she had been to.
" Aw see that Yesterday song - Ah just melt when you sing that."
There was an upright piano in the corner.
" Would you like me to sing it for you?" says Sir P ( only he was just Paul then) as he sat down at the piano.
He opened the lid and struck the first couple of chords and that liquid voice gave out with "Yesterdaaay - all my troubles.." and that was as far as he got.
One of his daughters ( I have always imagined it was Stella) charged back into the room.
" Dad - for goodness sake stop that - we're trying to watch Startrek."
" Oh sorry darling." End of concert.
True story.
Nice man.

Overheard in a London Cab

" Yu dan frum the Norf then?"
" Yes"
" You don't sand like it."
" No I moved there over 40 years ago."
" Oh, right "- pause-" So did you marry a Scots Lassie then?"
" Yes - it'll be 40 years next month."
" Oh, yer broke 6 mirrors then didja?HAR HAR HAR"
I think it's to do with 7 years bad luck for breaking a mirror.

The Last Temptation of Chris

Stumbling and Mumbling has a very good "thought for the day" as he prepares to quit London.
I've always maintained that freedom was always an expression of will. If you want to earn squillions, you pretty much have to be in London to pay for the cars, the schooling, the big house etc etc. You need - what - £250,000 a year. But if you are prepared to forego much of this, perhaps you need as little as £20,000 pa.
Or much less if you really want to.

Black Watch

Went to see this play which was commissioned by the National Theatre of Scotland and has been a huge success.
If it comes near you, you must see it. It is based on the Black Watch Regiment's experiences.
Most of the critics have mentioned it's antiwar, anti-establishment credentials, but in reality, it's message is much more powerful.
It's the politicians that have destroyed what the Army once had. It's not meant for sitting in barracks, doing nothing, sitting ducks for snipers and mortars and suicide bombers.
You would think they had learned that a static war was un-winable nearly 100 years ago. The Army needs to move and have proper intelligence, not be a political football.
The powers that be talk of a drop in recruiting. No wonder. The troops can't and don't believe in what they are doing.
Contrary to popular belief, our Army is made up of people who want to be in it and who are still the best fighting force in the world.
Unlike our snivelling politicians, with no knowledge of what soldiering means,no principles and a cynical disregard for courage and sacrifice.
In the end,as the actors say: " I fight for my regiment" " I fight for my platoon" " I fight for my section" " I fight for my mates".
They don't fight for Britain,nor for Scotland, and certainly NOT for this Government.
Postscript:
There was much talk during the play of " The Golden Thread" that ran through all the regiments at one time, being fathers, grandfathers, uncle and so on who served. As with so much else, this Government has wantonly destroyed that - and put nothing of value in its place.

Things I didn't know

I found out from reading a book called "The Secret Orchard of Roger Ackerley" by Diana Petre that until the age of majority was reduce from 21 to 18, illegitimate children legally reached their majority at 18.
This means they were able to vote, incur debts and, probably most importantly, not be prevented from marriage or running away.
The book itself is a fascinating account of a second family maintained by a man from 1910 through to his death in 1929.
What was even more interesting to me was that many of the characters in the book are known to me, through the fruit business of Elders & Fyffe , and then through the friends of the mistress( Muriel)/second family and her record in both World Wars.
I can't help but think many men would happily maintain such a double life. My own family, for instance, is convinced I have a second family in Luton Airport. That's the airport, not the town.
I don't think that's quite what would be wanted.

Iain Dale's Audi

Iain has been singing the praises of his new Audi with all it's jaw-dropping performance.
But here's a real advert for a real car:
" 0-100kmph in 21 seconds! Wind down windows! 25hp engine! Eco-friendly manufacture of paper,plastic & wood!"
By now I'm sure you've guessed this was for the latest Trabant some years ago.
It's delightful that the East German's thought it necessary to advertise wind down windows.I think this was as opposed to sliding ones.
In Hungary I read a translated advert for a bus trip - " Language speaking hostesses"
At least you don't have to know sign-language to get the message.

The meaning of REAL happiness

The youngest Ms. Lear occasionally sends me articles which would appear to validate her idea that money grows on trees - and certainly isn't meant to be other than spent.

So I was particularly pleased with this which dropped in today.

Happiness is - well, happiness, and is not connected with very much apart from feeling happy because you are doing something.

So stop worrying about the credit crunch and where the next meal is coming from and do something that makes you happy.

It's certainly worked for her over the years.

Local Action Group Medias

The main reason for my presence here in Romania this time was for the LAG meeting.
Progress is painfully slow, but I was pleased to hear from another association ( not a LAG) who came as observers, that they thought we were doing very well in 9 months, as it took them 8 years to become properly functional with all members pulling their weight.
Because it's election time, every village and town in the area is a hive of activity, with ditches being cleaned out, roads tarmaced, new playgrounds being constructed with proper benches, and a host of formal and informal lunches, dinners, drinks and promises for individual electors.
I read quite a nice story on Iain Dale's blog - a comment from an elector who was quite prepared to have female politicians sleep with him, but his vote would depend on the continuance of said sexual services. I can only say I hope the poor girls get a day off occasionally.
Mind you, I wouldn't be at all surprised if this wasn't on offer in Romania. Electioneering is still very much in the " It's a bribe, but, objectively, it's a bloody good bribe" being the most cogent argument in all circumstances.
But to return to the LAG. The real problem here is that it is very hard for people to believe that a group of people are working for the good of the whole community. They are only used to personal enrichment, so it is strange to them that we are saying in effect " put a small amount in and we will get you lots - but for the community, not the individual".
We have secured some funding from the World Bank which will enable us to get more people into our LAG, but also fund it properly for about 6 months. Our hope is that by then, some results will have filtered through, and be visible to all concerned. Simply the training on offer for free is worth while ( for example not one of the Mayors can do his own emails - but at least two of them have told me thay must learn)
The major bone of contention yesterday was a misunderstanding. Within the World Bank budget is a figure of USD2000 to bring in more members. One of our group said he thought it was bad that new members were going to be recompensed for attending meetings, and he would like recompensed as well.
It was pointed out to him that noone was going to be recompensed for attending, but merely to enable the LAG manager to visit other nearby areas and make his pitch. He immediately stated that he would not come again unless he was recompensed. It was pointed out to him that as he lived only about 200 yards from where the meetings invariably took place, he had no cost in actually getting there, and there were always snacks, cakes, coffee, and a variety of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks available once he got there.
" Ah, so you are saying this is our payment? Well, that is OK then" - and everyone was delighted that they were being "paid" to attend, as it meant they felt both worthy and rewarded.
If only loyalty could always be bought so cheaply.

A lovely day

Having escaped from Harris, then Glasgow and finally Budapest, I got back to Sighisoara this morning.
The sun was shining, the sky was a cornflower blue, and the temperature at mid-day was 23 C.
As I walked towards the Bank, a little old lady held out two small bunches of violets to me. She had a basket with about 10 bunches in all.
It transpired each bunch was the equivalent of 9p. So I gave her the equivalnet of GBP1 and took the lot.
I gave out three bunches in the Bank. I gave out 3 bunches at the lovely lawyer's. I gave two to Alin for his wife. I kept the last two and gave them to the lady who makes the most delicious "fornetti" which I buy every morning and which are like mini-sausagerolls, but filled with cheese or apple or apricots and so on, and which come in handy around 11am. She gave me a free bag this morning in exchange.
The main job this morning was trying to buy a new car. The car hire business is doing quite well; we have three bookings at the end of April and only two cars. We also have an arrangement with one of the car hire companies to use our cars when they are full, and it looks as if the summer is going to be really busy.
To cut a long story short, for Eur 200 per month we can have a brand new Logan, six years absolute warranty, airbags, aircon the lot, and in theory we therefore only need to rent it about 7 or 8 days per month on average over the year for it to pay for itself.
It's quite strange, my idea when I came here was all to do with property,houses and so on, and by accident I've fallen into a car renting business.
I think it's on the principle that if there's a gold strike, be the man who sells the picks and shovels.

China TV

I was watching China TV in Budapest (don't ask) when the reports on the Olympic flame in London came on.
Now I had seen the BBC footage yesterday. I can1t say I recognised any of it. Most of the footage was taken from the Chintown area, lots of happy smiling people and nary a protester in sight.
Huge triumph as Broon the Gloom didn't touch the torch. ( How pathetic a man is he that he has to make a big thing out of this?)
As they used to say in exams, compare and contrast with Mrs. T. If she didn't think it was a good idea she would have shouted it from the rooftops.
There's a nice story from a Commonwealth Conference where she was alone in opposing sanctions on South Africa, as she was working behind the scenes to get Mandela freed.
When asked how it felt to be th lone diesnting voice with 48 other countries ranged aganst her, her reply was " I'm sorrythat they are in the wrong" Lets have a bit more belief and conviction and principle. If Britain isn't ready for the truth now it never will be.
It's lasted her more than 18 years beyond her leaving office.

Dizzy and Berlusconis Quote

" Of course the left love the poor. They love them so much that every time they get into power they make many more of them"
Well spotted Dizzy, and too true Silvio.

Our society

I have long been an admirer of Isaac Bashevis Singer. His later books are less good than his earlier work, but he retains an imagination and an ability to evoke " the old country" better than most of the younger generation.
I am always taken with his quotations from the Mishna, the Talmud or Gemara. These may have been meant for a nomadic tribe a couple of thousand years ago, but many of the sayings remain true.
The one I most recently took to was:
"Those who pity the wicked are cruel to the just"
Isn't this exactly what's wrong with our society? We bend over backwards to be nice to thieves, rapists, murderers, illegal immigrants and many more. Who pays for this, both physically and in cash? Why, we, the just, do. Ok we may not necessarily be "Just" in the OT sense, but we are certainly Mr. and Mrs. Average who pays their taxes and abides by the rules.
It's a truism, but I regret to say that the Government finds it easy to prey on law-abiding people.

Bulgar hides in Funeral Parlour

That was the headline I read the other day in a newspaper.
I know I'm getting on a bit, and my eyes have been pretty poor since I was 12, and sometimes I just don't get the words right.
I had visions of a Bulgarian in national costume pretending to be dead, whilst the Immigration services searched for him.
Unfortunately, when I read the article, it was actually a BURGLAR.
And they spotted him in the coffin because he was wearing work clothes.
Shame.

The Lewis Chessmen

Just having spent a few days on Harris ( in case you think you might go there, don't - unless you really like walking, and then only on roads or beaches as the hills are liable to swallow you in the bogs) I spent a while looking at the remains of the Lewis Chessmen.
To be more exact, the house where we were staying had a set laid out.
I'm not sure they are exact replicas, but a couple of the pieces certainly looked as if they were taken from the life of the relevant era.
The Queens were clutching drinking horns, showing an early predilection for the alcoholism commonly associated with the Outer Isles.With a hand up to their cheeks, and very worried expressions on their faces, they looked dead ringers for matrons from Tonbridge Wells.
The Kings, on the other hand, were looking extremely grumpy, clutching swords across their knees in an attempt to ward off the next potential assassin. Their raping and pillaging days were clearly over, which is why they looked grumpy I imagine. They probably had to keep awake in case they were set on in the night, I suppose they couldn't even have a decent drink either.
So my view would be they deserved each other, these Kings and Queens.
At least, if I lived out there, I would definitely be both grumpy and an alcoholic.

T5

From BA's in-flight magazine:
" Fast not furious! Check-in at BA's new T5 shouldn't take more than 5 minutes!"
" Life is a carousel! We can handle over 12,000 bags an hour with our super-sophisticated software!"
" Over 90% of transit passengers can connect through T5"
Actually, I don't blame Naomi Campbell.

Orgy!

That was the ehadline regarding Max Moseley and 5 prostitutes and nazi uniforms.
I'm not so sure.
What would you say constitutes an orgy? I think 5 women and 1 man is a bit light on the orgiastic stakes. Myself I would insist on a minimum of 10 participants of whom at least 2 must be male.
Now you may think this sexist. After all, there's nothing to stop an all-male or all-female orgy I suppose, but having done Latin as a child, my view of orgies has always been somewhat coloured by images of people lounging around on sofas with very few clothes on, groping each other. And there were always men & women involved.
I think when only one man is involved I would invoke the comment of Lord Lambton many years ago, when caught in bed with a mere two prostitutes.
" I think the ordinary man in the street would only have two words to say: Lucky bugger"
He may have tried that with them too for all I know.

Decadence

What's your idea of decadence? Is it sipping champagne from a ladies slipper? Having naked young women peel you a grape?
Being a chap, I can only think that decadence involves nubile young ladies doing things for you ( in the spirit of peeling grapes, feeding you ortolan piece by piece and so on).
But what would a lady regard as decadent? I don't have a clue. I can only ever think of men "being" decadent. The girls are there to help him, not actually be decadent themselves.
Maybe it's a bit like the self-sacrifice thing. Some time ago, I postulated that there were no female equivalents in literature of Cyrano de Bergerac, who gave up everything so his love could have the dolt she wanted. I would happily stand to be corrected here, but please note I am NOT suggesting merely dying as an alternative.
The thought does strike me that it might be better to be the dolt.

Search for a Nancy

Actually I think it's called I'll do anything, but anyway, it's for the new Oliver!
Nancy, of course, is now a non-pc word for homosexual man ( please note its from HOMOS as in the same ( Greek) as opposed to Latin HOMO = man). Having Graham Norton involved seems a bit voracious but there you are.
The point is that Kevin Spacey ( whose own sexuality would appear a touch light in the Timberlands, but who knows?) has spoken out about a " thirteen week promotion for musicals".
And he's quite right. Why should the musicals, the opera etc etc get these free adverts when straight theatre ( I'm getting in a bit deep here) doesn't get a mention? Plays are only represented in something like 20% of West End London theatres at the moment, and certainly none that could be called " experimental" or " new".
I've said it before here, unless we make an effort to get away from what can only be called the dumbed-down performances of musicals, within a generation there will be no real theatre, and only pathetic celebrities from East Enders as our actors.
Larry, John and Nigel must be turning in their graves.

Home Alone...

Having been abandoned for business reasons by Mrs. Lear, The Headmaster and the Headmaster's wife ( they've gone to walk around Harris) I've had a day when I can get things done.
I don't know why, but I always achieve much more on my own.
So all the information that I haven't taken in over the last week has been committed to memory ( or put in the bin), I have put all the clocks forward ( including the central heating), and now I am going to bed.
Only I came across this priceless snippet about Yoga.
" Julie is not your Ethnic Yoga teacher. She is much more the Stylist Yoga teacher. Her students are more likely to have had boob-jobs and drive black 4 by 4s than munch uncooked vegetables and wear home made clothes that have been dyed in the bath."
Clearly life has moved on. No longer is it enough to be a yoga teacher, you have to be a celebrity if you want to make a success of it, and " get on".
I can't help but feel this is the complete antithesis of what Yoga is supposed to be.

Terminal 5

Far be it from me to heap more fertiliser on BAA, BA ,Architects, etc etc etc, but I immediately knew it was going to be a disaster when the Architect ( whose trade I have always regarded as akin to the place where society defecates, preceded only by elfnsafety consultants, or maybe that's followed by) appeared on television and stated " Actually it's a very sophisticated baggage handling system with a building round it."
Hm.
ps I just put on spell check, which highlighted elfnsafety above. When I clicked on it the little box below said " no suggestions". Elfnsafety clearly renders even computers speechless.

Ashes to Ashes

I watched the last episode tonight ( for the time being anyway). It's not rocket science and the acting sometimes leaves a bit to be desired, but it's quite fun for someone who was an adult at the time and remembers what the 80's were like.
Gene Hunt, yer actual Gene Genii macho man, tore Lord Scarman off a strip.
His words were " In 20 years time when you're afraid to go out after dark, and the place is overrun with thieves,muggers, knives and other bastards ( short "a") you'll be crying out for the likes of me, but I'll be in Alicante tanked up and sizzling like a sausage. You can close us down, hamstring us and knacker us BUT WE ARE UNBREAKABLE!" Round of applause.
Anyway, it was clear this was the author's message which in What's New Pussycat was accompanied by a bright yellow ,flashing arrow saying as much.
I would have to say this does seem a little bit ex post de facto, but I can't help but feel a little bit of 80's policing ( or 40's or 50's come to that) would sort a lot of the youth problems. Today we had a group of teenagers ,drunk, aged 15, who battered a young man senseless, and then killed his girlfriend. As the policeman after the trial said " The accused 's mother just laughed all the way through the trial as if it was nothing important". With parents like that it's hardly surprising the youngsters have no respect, no sense of right or wrong, or of any guidance.
But I'm willing to bet if Gene gave them the odd doing lots of them would turn into models of society.

Afghanistan.

I've a funny feeling I am probably breaking the official secrets act, but we DO all know we have troops in Afghanistan, and that they are getting killed. Perhaps for lack of equipment. Allegedly.
But I was recently privileged to read an email sent to friends and family by a serving squaddie.
The first point is they are only allowed 30 minutes a fortnight on the Internet. And maybe not always - it depends - so keeping in touch is difficult in the extreme.
Most of the soldiers are not in a cosy camp somewhere,but up in the mountains looking down into the valleys, and they are unable to wash for many days at a time. They are constantly under sniper fire. They frequently don't get hot meals. This particular squaddie's email referred to being in one position as hell, but the next one along, about a mile away, was heaven - that's where the cooking got done, and every meal had to be collected under a hail of bullets.
Offhandedly, he says: " One of the lads got blown up and unfortunately died before we could do anything for him, but we have had quite a few badly wounded who we have been able to save." Oh, and they spend a month at a time in the bivouacs.
This is the reality in the hills. Several people recently have made the point that the Taliban MUST be beaten.
I don't disagree with that, but the boys in the dirty uniforms need proper support, proper equipment and proper backing from those of us at home.
I simply don't believe they are getting this at present.

Maitre D'

My father, old King Lear, was very keen on tipping well. In America, of course, 15% is the minimum as the waiters and so on are so badly paid.
But my father would tip with gay abandon ( but please note he was anything but a homosexual).
I was reminded of how useful the Maitre D' can be the other day. There are certain places where it is impossible to get in for some time, and a previous good tip can help immeasurably.
Maitre D's are of course privy to lots of secret information. That illicit lover's tryst, that business deal, that contract being discussed, all have their weak links when the Maitre D' is hovering nearby. Many a table has been acquired by the passing of folding money, well palmed as the hand is shaken.
There was a very famous Maitre D' in Glasgow, long since retired, who I shall call Albert. An old Uncle of mine always took care of him, and when we would go out for dinner, Albert would invariably make sure we were well attended to.
Badly behaved people were soothed. People trying to be clever were helped to understand that Albert knew better.
On one occasion there was a group of younger people making quite a lot of noise at a table near us, and the glances of the other dinners were having no effect.
Albert glided over, and whispered in the ring-leader's ear. There was no more hilarity after that and they all left quite quickly.
" You see, " said my uncle," you can't put one over on the Albert's of the world"
As I was paying the bill I asked Albert what he had said.
" Oh, sir, that's a professional secret - but it has to do with large men kicking he and his companions in the balls once they leave the establishment."

In Which We Serve and Brief Encounter.

I watched Noelly doing his thing in his film with Celia Johnston, In Which We Serve. It is, of course, hopelessly out of date ( not least because the children do what they are told), and the respect accorded to people is - a trifle - cloying.
What struck me though was Noel's wife, Celia, compared to her character in Brief Encounter.
There's no denying there was - and still is in some ways - a romanticism in the train. It is completely lacking in air travel and driving doesn't bear thinking about.
My thought was that the two films were actually about the same woman at the same time. If I was married to quite such a stuffed shirt as Coward portrays as the Captain of HMS Torrin, I would look for a more relaxed and fun guy too - if I was female that is.
Trevor Howard as the male lead in Brief Encounter is the perfect gentleman, but has that edge that women - I'm told - find dangerous and exciting. Coward has none of it. Nowadays of course Trev and Seels would have shagged in the ladies' loo, which would rather spoil the whole point of it, but I regret that we have lost many ideals and morality now regarded as old hat. Even that expression is too out of date to bear thinking about.
Some time ago there was an attempt to update the ten commandments and the seven deadly sins. The argument was that these were put in place to enable a tribe in the desert to survive, and have no place in modern society.
Although that's true to a certain extent, some hold good eternally, but perhaps we need to move some of them forward a bit. Romance has it's own morality and rules.
As a final thought, the two leading men only have one letter different between them - Coward and Howard.
5 Letters apart but light years in attitude.

Size really does matter...Or maybe not.

I was taken for a walk by the Dog today as I usually am at the weekends.
Despite what looked like sunshine, this being Easter in Scotland, there was a sharp wind which meant the heavy coat and cap were required.
My dog, being the Cavalier he is, is endlessly wimpish unless really really pushed, and, as there are very few dogs smaller than he is, he tends to spend a lot of his time in the park lying down and looking small.
The one dog that is smaller than he is is a Yorkie. Pepper is tiny - less than half the size of my small small dog.
But what a different character. Fearing nothing, he goes his own way about the place, staring down dogs ten times his size, with no aggression, just sheer mental strength.
As the Alsatians and Boxers charge and bounce up to him, he stands staring at them, straining to his full 4inch height, motionless. Not a flicker. The larger dogs get to within about 3 feet of him and stop dead. They are used to other dogs cringing from the assault, and seem genuinely shaken when Pepper stares them down. Usually they bark at him a couple of times. Pepper looks at them disdainfully. Then the larger dogs do a sort of harrumph, and turn away, pretending a) they are superior and b) nothing happened anyway.
Pepper watches them go, and then does a little jig, which I guess is his equivalent of falling about with laughter.
As your granny almost certainly told you, the bigger they are the harder they fall.....

DIY weekend

Easter traditionally being the time that more people hurt themselves doing DIY than any other, I naturally, am not doing any. Not that I ever do, being exceedingly cack-handed.
Walking the Dog today, I noticed the swans getting ready for the cygnets due soon. The pen was sitting sernely on a spot, preening herself, nibbling the odd bit of grass, whilst the cob was picking up bits of straw, grass and whatever, tossing them towards her, and bad temperedly shaking them about the place.
It's not only humans who dislike DIY.

Does Livingstone have a death wish?

You might think this is merely a rhetorical question, but he has courted Broon's Jonah twice recently. Never mind that in 2000 Brown wrote an article excoriating Livingstone, he completely reversed and this week past, in the same newspaper, wrote a gushing tribute that was somewhat nauseous to read.
Not content with that, they appeared together during the week, and Gord did the business again, praising and endorsing Livingstone.
Naturally, this has nothing to do with the fact that Boris is well ahead in the Mayoral race.
What it does do is show how afraid Broon is on the upcoming political nightmare of both Edinburgh and London being in the hands of wily, clever, charismatic men, who can make his life hell. Today's Sunday Telegraph has a very good article on this.
All it does, of course, is ensure Livingstone's defeat. There has been much talk of financial contagion recently, but I can think of no more toxic contagion politically than being endorsed by Broon.
Just as an aside, many might have hated Tony Blair, but he was always, Our Tone.
Broon is not held in any such affection.

Govan

The FT, no less, has an article on Govan today which is slighty informative and refers to the 2014 Commonwealth Games as being helpful in this area's regeneration.
I'm not sure that's true, as Govan and where the Games will be held are at opposite ends of the City. The area hosted the 1988 Garden Festival, but it's only in the last couple of years that things have begun to move in the right direction.
What struck me about the article, though, was something quite different.
I know the area very well, because we have bought some property there over the years and have held on hoping for better days. Govan once had more than 600 shops, now probably not more than 30 or so functioning properly. The population has fallen by about 90% over the years, leaving wastelands behind.
The article was focusing on the cheap housing in the area ( which it certainly is) but there is much much more happening than just housing. What struck me was how newspapers take a line and everything else gets squeezed into it, ignoring both facts and open-mindedness. The recent McCann victory over newspapers is a case in point.
The same applies to this article. What would seem to me to have changed is the attitude of the people in the area. From out and out depression, there is a renewed jauntiness, known in Glasgow as "Gallus".
If they can keep it, there truly will be a renaissance.

What would you do?

A man has a mistress for 30 odd years. About 12 years ago his wife dies. For some reason, his family know about the mistress.
One day after the wife dies, the man asks his son if he can come and stay the night en route elsewhere.
And bring his friend.
The son ( I suspect egged on by the wife ) says no.
So the man and his new live-in-lover ( ex mistress) never go to any of his family together, although they live perfectly happily and have a circle of their own friends, many from before the man's wife dies.
The man continues to see his family on his own. The couple visit her family together without any difficulty.
Now the lover effectively looks after the man until he dies ( she would be about 25/30 years his junior), and brings him great happiness in his declining years.
My view would be that the man's children were being petty.
What's yours?

A Little Flower.....

I am wearing purple socks, green trousers, purple shirt. Mrs. Lear ( noted for her eye for sartorial resplendence) said " Ah. A purple crocus!"

Madness

I was through in Edinburgh this evening for a GWT meeting, and the new Chairman invited me back to his flat for an orange juice.
He is a senior Sheriff ( think Judge) in Edinburgh, and has just been handed a document on proposed legislation, affecting accused persons and the people who try them.
As he says, if the accused is standing in front of him, hands in pockets, chewing gum, he tells him to take his hands out of his pockets and gets the usher to give him ( or her) a tissue to get rid of it. He also has the policeman on duty remove the mobile phones when they ring ( yes, this is true).
Now, with the new proposed legislation, he will no longer be able to do this, as the poor dear accused would feel hard done by. The accused will be able to make an official complaint. This complaint will have to be investigated. Whilst it is being investigated, the Sheriff will be suspended ( on full pay), and may not sit again until the process is complete.
If you've been following me, within about three days every Sheriff in Scotland will be suspended, so no trials can take place.
Clever eh?
Oh, and in case you're wondering, this brilliant idea is not from the SNP. It comes direct from Westminster ( prop. G.Brown/Nulabour) and has been handed to the Scottish Parliament for ratification.
Can't quite see it happening, myself.

Credit cards

I received a strange communication from my credit card company yesterday.
In brief, it said it had removed my ability to draw cash against my card limit.
As I have never done this, I was somewhat bemused, but then, having thought about it, I realised that, quite apart from all the cancelled, reduced limits and so on that are being forced through ( with, naturally, lots of overlimit charges and penal interest rates) taking out the cashing element helps reduce the Banks potential liabilities. If you have to take cash out of your bank account, you reduce the amount you are drawing on your card.
As far as I am concerned, Bernanke has played this absolutely right so far. I suspect he was arguing for more cuts long before they ever got delivered ( he does, after all, go with the concensus, rather than telling the meeting what he intends to do). But now everyone can see the oncoming express train, he is moving very fast and very big - very necessary.
Our own guardians of the purse have displayed a breathtaking lack of concern. When John Moulton says the question he is being asked most by everyone he deals with is " Where dare I put my cash" ( the answer of course is Northern Rock) something must have gone wrong somewhere.
Before this is over I fully expect at least one more disaster in the UK, which, hopefully, will finally jolt the powers that be into letting go a bit. £5billion by the BofE needs to be contrasted with ( at a guess) very close to $1trillion in the States and about Eur 1.5trillion from the ECB.
And you can forget about inflation. As the wheels silt up and grind to a halt, the only thing going up will be our Government's desperation to get its hands on our money.

The Bear..

I take absolutely no pleasure in Bear Stearns implosion. Keyne's dictum that it is not the banks borrowers going bust that destroys banks, it's the cutting off of it's lifeblood - cash - still holds good. In Bear's case the Fed has rightly seen that a collapse by it would create far too many problems for it to be able to stem the systemic tide. The Bear will be sold off within a very short space of time ( why would anyone go back to trading with it?) and life will go on, albeit at a reduced level. The Bear was one of the brokers giving hedge funds money. That's stopped too. We are back with cash is king .
I heard two stories last night at a dinner. The first was from a senior Royal Bank of Scotland executive, who said they had not changed their lending criteria one jot or tittle in the last two years. People's perceptions had changed, so that those who expected to get 100% or 95% or whatever, were shocked to discover they could only get 75%. In a sense this is the real disaster of the last few years where self-certified mortgages and 125% loans were increasingly common - people will long harbour a grudge against the ( solvent) banks who only ever lent reasonably prudently. " If Northern Rock could give 125% why not RBS?" HMM yes well, perhaps no reply is needed.
The other was much more interesting. A senior fund manager and his son, also a fund manager and in charge of the family's finances, at the start of 2007 instructed their bankers to turn all their cash into physical gold and Bank of England securities. You may think this is easy, but actually getting physical gold in significant quantities ( as opposed to deposit receipts etc etc) is not that easy. And BofE securities as opposed to Bank deposits are seriously hard to acquire.
You may think this is a little extreme.
But coming from where it does, and since yesterday on Wall Street, I wish I'd done the same.

In the Romanian Lawyers office

One of the nicest parts of being in Sighisoara is being in the lawyers office. This is only partly because she is one of the most attractive women I know ( Alin swears she was fat and ugly when he was at school with her) and much to do with the people we take there. Yesterday for example, an 82 year old firebrand of a great-grandmother insisted on better music being played whilst she waited to sign. A man insisted on taking less money from us than had been agreed because we had given him a free ride. The heir to a small piece of ground wanted to give it to us as he didn't want it, provided we got him a new mobile phone.
But the nicest thing is the careful explanations the lovely lawyer gives people. The reasoning is simple - most of them can't read. There is a wonderful charade of " Oh, I've left my glasses behind". This is easily countered as the lawyer has a drawer full of abandoned specs, but after trying a few on, the elderly darlings say they are no good, and would she mind just reading the document to them? And the official translator lady ( who is at the opposite scale to the lawyer) knows less about English or Romanian law than I do - at least I can now translate the phrases and clauses faster than she can. In recognition of this, the official stamp of " Translation confirmed" has gone down from an original equivalent of £7 to a mere £3.
So on Monday afternoon, after a hard days graft on papers and other rubbish, we were ushered into the Mayor's parlour, along with three of his henchmen. So there were actually 5 of us drinking. Alin never touches alcohol when he drives.
We started at about 3 in the afternoon, and, together with sausages, and " mitj" which are lamb and meat-balls, we managed several 2-litre bottles of extremely good home made wine by about 7pm. We were there to discuss the Cabbage Festival in October.
There was a slight pall over the occasion, as that particular manufacture of wine was running out.
" Ah, " said the Mayor, " When this is finished, I will have to buy some from Vassily". I may say Vassily was sitting next to him and perked up at the thought of making a cash sale.
" For cash?" he asked.
" No," said the Mayor," In exchange for all my wine you've already drunk."
" Ah," said Vassily" I would never get through my 8,000 litres on my own anyway. It's just as well I have you for a friend - and Mr. King of course "

On the train across the Austro-Hungarian Empire

I'm back in Romania for the first time since just before Christmas, and came via Budapest, now my preferred way into Transylvania.
The train is a wonderful mixture of the old Empire and the subsequent Communist regimes, laced with efforts at the New Improved Capitalism that is putatively espoused.
Two images stick out.
The first is what I assume was a university athletics team on it's way to a meet. It included the javelin throwers who were on the train complete with their javelins, well able to kill anyone within 100 mtrs - and no corks on the ends either. I can't help but think Elf 'n Safety would have been after them.
The other was the divi. This consisted of ALL the train officials, including drivers, guards, restaurant car AND the border guards etc etc, both from Hungary and Romania, getting together to divi-up everything that had been "begged borrowed or stolen" from the passengers. This was done in no-man's land - clearly because no-one had jurisdiction there.
I was talking to one of the senior men ( as defined by the amount of scrambled egg on his cap and uniform) about it over a beer, and told him it would not be something that could happen in the UK - at least not as openly.
" Ah" he said." But you do it secretly. I have been reading all about your MP's and how much they steal."
I remonstrated with him, saying that these expenses were, if not necessarily generally approved of, at least they were legal.
He smiled. " My friend, not so long ago, people who did in our country what your MPs do were shot. Now we only imprison them. And what we do? Everyone must live."
I'm not sure he regarded this as a forward step.

Why I support the Gurkha Welfare Trust....

"Sadly Hav Bhanubhakta Gurung VC died on Sat 1 March 2008 at 1100 hours at his son's house in Gorkha, aged 87. He was suffering from pain on his body in the morning. When doctor was called to check him, it was found that he had low heart beating and low blood pressure reading. While arrangement was being made quickly to move him to Kathmandu some 4 hours away, he passed away in Gorkha.

Today on 2 Mar, early in the morning, the family wish to move the body to Chitwan and cremate on the river side at the famous worshipping place of Devghat. Chitwan 2GR reps will gather there and lay the regimental flag on his body. I have asked to borrow a piper from BGN. Late Bhanubhakta's ash will then be brought back to Gorkha to be buried beside his wife.

COS HQ BGN has been made aware of this tragic event. As a result the Gurkha Major BGK, RSM, Major Hitman Gurung 1/2GR and a piper have travelled to Chitwan.

So that members are aware, this now leaves only 3 surviving Gurkha VC winners out of 13 - Lachhuman, Tulbahadur and Rambahadur. Bhanubhakta won the VC in Burma in 1944 when single handed he cleared trench after trench of the enemy on a hill when the platoon attack stalled due to enemy strong gun positions. Finally taking hold of a bren gun from the dead gunner, he fired at the remaining trenches thus taking over the platoon objective. The incident took place near the village of Tamandu . As result, the regiment still celebrates Tamandu day, a Battle Honour every year on or around 5 March."

RIP

Two interesting posts..

Winchester Whisperer has a post about private jets and how this is a clear sell.
Stumbling and Mumbling about the Archers ( not really, but it's to do with mergers).
All I can tell you is the party's over, and there will be lots and lots of people with very severe hangovers.

2014 again

Glasgow's hosting committee has produced a blueprint on how to pitch for a major event.
As they say, if they had had it, life would have been much simpler.
It only cost £6.21million, which, to judge by the funds now committed by private enterprise to Glasgow's East End alone, is an incredibly good investment and rate of return - unlike the 2012 Olympics, which just seems to get more and more expensive and less and less worth it.
One of the lines in the article talks of visiting lots of voting countries to lobby them, and bringing them to see Glasgow.
This continues that well known Glasgow tradition of the pocket handkerchief, methinks.

Gay...

I am not noted for my abilities at colour co-ordinating, especially in my dress sense. Mrs. Lear once famously remarked that I dressed like a little boy whose mother always put his clothes out for him ( I had to admit it was true).
Just occassionally , however, on the monkeys typing Shakespeare principle, my agglomeration of clothes sometimes works.
Today, merely by chance, I managed yellow socks and trousers, blue shirt and sweater.
Mrs. Lear eyed me critically.
" Hm" she said. " You're so well co-ordinated this morning you could be gay"
I'm not 100% sure that's supposed to be a compliment.

The Bundeswehr...

... is very exercised because Southern Afghanistan is too dangerous for them. I suppose they may be right - they would be fighting a religious group ( shades of the Holocaust) and Germany has a lot of Islamists in its Turkish and other foreign worker community.
But that's not what is exercising the media in Germany.
The Brits think it's OK to send the third in line to the Throne there.
But Merkel is afraid....