So Mason just did it.If anyone was in any doubt about Labour supporters views on the present Government and what they've done for ordinary people, this result should leave them in no doubt. Even more so, last night's Conservative Council seat win in Westminster North ( never ever been anything but Labour) means the end of Labour rule.
I've long argued that each MP should fight and work for his own constituency, and hang the consequences. Labour's Marshall ( and many more particularly in Scotland) never subscribed to this idea and - as Guido would say - had their snouts well and truly in the trough, mouthed platitudes about regeneration and social inclusion, and hopped on the plane to London.
I sincerely hope these results will teach all politicians an important lesson.
Look after your people and they will look after you.
Ignore them and - eventually - you will get booted out.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Glasgow East before...
I spent part of this morning in the company of a man who is a West of Scotland Catholic of Irish extraction - the bedrock of Labour's dominance in Scotland for over 50 years. He used to be a Labour fundraiser, has met and dined with all the present Cabinet ( and the ones that came before under Our Tone).
He resigned from the Party in 2006 over a number of matters, but largely because he felt that the Party in Scotland in particular was doing nothing for its people.
Having spent two years thinking about things ( he'd never be a conservatives despite sending his children to fee paying schools, living in a £1million house and being an all round wealthy person) he has decided to become an SNP supporter - and even put himself forward as a candidate for future elections.
If someone like him can change sides, then many hundreds of thousands more will over the next few years. As he says " It's time for a change. We won the fight in 1997, and the Westminster Government, despite being led by Scots, continued to use us as cannon-fodder. Now they've pissed it all away. They can't afford to do anything for us. Maybe the SNP will."
He has no fears of Scotland being on its own. " Within Europe, we would attract much more in funding than we get at the moment. We could easily be a haven from the strife and stress elsewhere in the UK and the world"
His prediction for the bye-election?
" Curran might just do it - but only because she's actually quite good. Or she might not - it's that close.
But at the general election, the SNP will definitely take it - along with many more seats. And in the Scottish Parliament next time round there will be a majority of SNP members."
Engies be warned.
He resigned from the Party in 2006 over a number of matters, but largely because he felt that the Party in Scotland in particular was doing nothing for its people.
Having spent two years thinking about things ( he'd never be a conservatives despite sending his children to fee paying schools, living in a £1million house and being an all round wealthy person) he has decided to become an SNP supporter - and even put himself forward as a candidate for future elections.
If someone like him can change sides, then many hundreds of thousands more will over the next few years. As he says " It's time for a change. We won the fight in 1997, and the Westminster Government, despite being led by Scots, continued to use us as cannon-fodder. Now they've pissed it all away. They can't afford to do anything for us. Maybe the SNP will."
He has no fears of Scotland being on its own. " Within Europe, we would attract much more in funding than we get at the moment. We could easily be a haven from the strife and stress elsewhere in the UK and the world"
His prediction for the bye-election?
" Curran might just do it - but only because she's actually quite good. Or she might not - it's that close.
But at the general election, the SNP will definitely take it - along with many more seats. And in the Scottish Parliament next time round there will be a majority of SNP members."
Engies be warned.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Overnight
My last day in Romania was wonderful. We were in the fields with the sun beating down, finding out all sorts of interesting things. We were surrounded by clouds of the most brilliant butterflies, who flitted about us all day.
Not least, someone had planted corn on one of our bits of land. The interesting thing was that we had bought an entire block, but the miscreant had only used a small part at one end. It transpired he came from another area, had not heard we had bought it, had been renting it for several years, and the vendor never bothered to tell him it had been sold. A quick visit got the agreement to transfer the rent to us.
The goat man reported we had 12 extra goats ( I'm not sure quite how, as we only started with 6 nannies), but of the 12, 6 were billys and would be sold in October. So now we will own 12, and on the present rate of increase by next year we will have about 30. I don't understand it either.
The day was rounded off by agreeing to buy some other disparate pieces of ground , some of which we actually wanted. The problem is the government only pays the pension to the vendors if they withdraw entirely from farming, ie sell all they own. Frequently - if not all the time - we have to buy bits here and there we don't want. Every now and again, some of the odd bits join up and then it becomes rather more interesting.
The day finished with a drink or two in the Mayor's garden ( we helped collect the Mirabelles from which he makes a delicious drink) followed by dinner at almost the right time in the Unglerus in Biertan. It serves the best cabbage salad of anywhere.
Nothing would do after dinner but that the Mayor would visit his friend the artist Ion Constantinescu who lives nearby. Of course, another bottle was broached which naturally meant we had to buy something....But it did mean we got free invitations to his next show on 17th October. Alin told me that the ending of his name (.. escu) indicates an important man in Romania, or one with connections, that all important part of doing business there.
After all this it was back onto the night train back to Budapest which leaves Sighisoara at 23:26. As I've mentioned before, night travel is now my preferred time to move about. As my Granny would have said, " What kind of night-hawk are you?" There was hardly anyone on the train, and it arrived bang on time the next morning. The station hotel knows me well now and allows me to shower and shave in an empty room, before taking their breakfast. I spent a lovely day in Budapest and flew back to Prestwick in the early evening.
The most important thing to do in Budapest is to haggle, especially with the taxi drivers. A trip to the airport can cost as much as Eur 50 or as little as Eur 10. The problem is finding the right driver. I discovered by accident that they can change the charges made per kilometer on their meters, so it is critical to get the price agreed first.
Not least, someone had planted corn on one of our bits of land. The interesting thing was that we had bought an entire block, but the miscreant had only used a small part at one end. It transpired he came from another area, had not heard we had bought it, had been renting it for several years, and the vendor never bothered to tell him it had been sold. A quick visit got the agreement to transfer the rent to us.
The goat man reported we had 12 extra goats ( I'm not sure quite how, as we only started with 6 nannies), but of the 12, 6 were billys and would be sold in October. So now we will own 12, and on the present rate of increase by next year we will have about 30. I don't understand it either.
The day was rounded off by agreeing to buy some other disparate pieces of ground , some of which we actually wanted. The problem is the government only pays the pension to the vendors if they withdraw entirely from farming, ie sell all they own. Frequently - if not all the time - we have to buy bits here and there we don't want. Every now and again, some of the odd bits join up and then it becomes rather more interesting.
The day finished with a drink or two in the Mayor's garden ( we helped collect the Mirabelles from which he makes a delicious drink) followed by dinner at almost the right time in the Unglerus in Biertan. It serves the best cabbage salad of anywhere.
Nothing would do after dinner but that the Mayor would visit his friend the artist Ion Constantinescu who lives nearby. Of course, another bottle was broached which naturally meant we had to buy something....But it did mean we got free invitations to his next show on 17th October. Alin told me that the ending of his name (.. escu) indicates an important man in Romania, or one with connections, that all important part of doing business there.
After all this it was back onto the night train back to Budapest which leaves Sighisoara at 23:26. As I've mentioned before, night travel is now my preferred time to move about. As my Granny would have said, " What kind of night-hawk are you?" There was hardly anyone on the train, and it arrived bang on time the next morning. The station hotel knows me well now and allows me to shower and shave in an empty room, before taking their breakfast. I spent a lovely day in Budapest and flew back to Prestwick in the early evening.
The most important thing to do in Budapest is to haggle, especially with the taxi drivers. A trip to the airport can cost as much as Eur 50 or as little as Eur 10. The problem is finding the right driver. I discovered by accident that they can change the charges made per kilometer on their meters, so it is critical to get the price agreed first.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Papanash wars
You may have noticed my emphasis on matters food and drink whilst sunning myself in Romania.
This is because the meal - usually at a completely different time to when we would consider it right to eat - is an integral part of political, cultural and business life. I'm sure this is a hang over from the not-so-distant past, when simply getting enough to eat was everyone's main occupation, and being able to order up food was a Party given right.
For example, today I had nothing at lunchtime, but I did have a plate of spaghetti bolognese at about 4pm, then had what was officially lunch at about 8:30pm. I'll probably skip dinner....
One of Romania's gifts to world cooking is Papanash(sweet fried Romanian cheese balls with sour cream & fruit eg black currants) which I enjoy when it's offered. Tonight it was on the menu in the restaurant across from the flat, and I duly ordered it - as did everyone else in the place.
Now it so happened we had with us the lady who manages the "Rustic" better known here as "Roostick" who is inordinately proud of the size of her papanash. They are praised the length and breadth of Sighisoara. People even on the day they get their pensions come specifically to the Rustic for a plate of Papanash. She makes them with extra cheese, which, for me, makes them a little heavy.
Anyway,as we were munching through our cheeseyballs ( light as a feather because they are made with less cheese and more flour) in walks one of the old men who normally eats the Rustic papanash. He doesn't have much money but he does like his papanash, and duly ordered a plateful.
Well if you had called the lady every bad word you can imagine she could not have reacted with more vigour. She marched across to the man and asked him why he was eating papanash not at the Rustic.
" Well, these ones here are a little lighter, and they are better at night than your ones, which are too heavy at night..."
He never got any further. The lady in question promptly burst into tears and fled from the scene. It rather put a dampener on the evening, but we all managed to eat our deserts.
We finished her's too.
This is because the meal - usually at a completely different time to when we would consider it right to eat - is an integral part of political, cultural and business life. I'm sure this is a hang over from the not-so-distant past, when simply getting enough to eat was everyone's main occupation, and being able to order up food was a Party given right.
For example, today I had nothing at lunchtime, but I did have a plate of spaghetti bolognese at about 4pm, then had what was officially lunch at about 8:30pm. I'll probably skip dinner....
One of Romania's gifts to world cooking is Papanash(sweet fried Romanian cheese balls with sour cream & fruit eg black currants) which I enjoy when it's offered. Tonight it was on the menu in the restaurant across from the flat, and I duly ordered it - as did everyone else in the place.
Now it so happened we had with us the lady who manages the "Rustic" better known here as "Roostick" who is inordinately proud of the size of her papanash. They are praised the length and breadth of Sighisoara. People even on the day they get their pensions come specifically to the Rustic for a plate of Papanash. She makes them with extra cheese, which, for me, makes them a little heavy.
Anyway,as we were munching through our cheeseyballs ( light as a feather because they are made with less cheese and more flour) in walks one of the old men who normally eats the Rustic papanash. He doesn't have much money but he does like his papanash, and duly ordered a plateful.
Well if you had called the lady every bad word you can imagine she could not have reacted with more vigour. She marched across to the man and asked him why he was eating papanash not at the Rustic.
" Well, these ones here are a little lighter, and they are better at night than your ones, which are too heavy at night..."
He never got any further. The lady in question promptly burst into tears and fled from the scene. It rather put a dampener on the evening, but we all managed to eat our deserts.
We finished her's too.
Crisis!
Yesterday, when I went to get the cheese Fornetti at about 9am, there were none. I was told to come back in an hour. 10 am NONE! 11 am NONE! .. and the Fornetti shop shuts at 11:30.
This morning, I was there just after 7am and bought the biggest bag of cheese Fornetti you have ever seen. Then I asked for "Mere" ( pronounced a bit like merray) which are the apple ones that Alin likes.
THERE WERE NONE!
So I took an executive decision and bought the sweet poppyseed ones for him.
As we set off for our fifth appointment ( the first was my haircut which costs about GBP1 here, the second the lawyer, the third the bank and the fourth ... actually I can't remember) we were both happily munching away. Alin turned to me and said. " Well, Mr.K, the world crisis is over!"
And do you know, I actually felt as if it were true.
This morning, I was there just after 7am and bought the biggest bag of cheese Fornetti you have ever seen. Then I asked for "Mere" ( pronounced a bit like merray) which are the apple ones that Alin likes.
THERE WERE NONE!
So I took an executive decision and bought the sweet poppyseed ones for him.
As we set off for our fifth appointment ( the first was my haircut which costs about GBP1 here, the second the lawyer, the third the bank and the fourth ... actually I can't remember) we were both happily munching away. Alin turned to me and said. " Well, Mr.K, the world crisis is over!"
And do you know, I actually felt as if it were true.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Local Action Group Meeting
Today was the big LAG meeting which started about 11am and finished just before 7pm.
Here in Romania everything is debated endlessly, which is why an agenda of 5 points took 8 hours to discuss.
The main talking point today was a man from the Ministry of Agriculture, who came bearing gifts - and was promptly shot down by all sides as his ministry had manifestly NOT done what it was supposed to have done. He did promise to take all the complaints back and sort them out, but the concensus of the meeting was that we would need to get on and do it ourselves - something I heartily agree with. We were strengthened by several new Mayors who had just won their places in the recent elections. These men ( and 1 woman) had all wanted to be involved in the LAG but the previous incumbents had been very old school. Now, we are reinvigorated.
One of our LAG members is Willy Schuster, the only remaining Saxon in Mosna, who is seriously into eco everything. His brochure for different cheeses, cream, yoghurt, herbs and what not has a quote from the Bible - "The Lord God took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden to dress and to keep it "( Genesis 2:15).
This really is the Garden of Eden come to life.I've never been more sure of anything but that we have to do our utmost to keep it if we are to deserve our primary place on Earth.
It's been a very busy few days, and will be even busier tomorrow and Saturday. The lawyer has really earned her money this week ( by the way, one standard contract translation today was Ron 25 - how does she make it up?) as has Alin, who has driven nearly 1000 miles ferrying people about. Work starts here at 7am, so quite often we have to be on the doorstep at that time. Bed is never until after midnight. I'm sure he is delighted when I go away again and he can get some sleep. If you have a look at page 2 here, Alin is in the bottom right hand picture with the dark hair and the sunglasses. But please have a look at the other pictures further down. You will get a feel for why I love it here.
The day ended with an excellent meal about 9pm ( it always takes a couple of hours to get the odd bits of business sorted after the meetings). Tonight was excellent celery soup, the most delicious garlic filled sausages, and, as ever, the cabbage salad. It's just as well we all had the same as we are all seriously pongy.
Tomorrow will be accountants,checking a couple of houses, builders and finally trying to conclude a deal for an old mill we want to turn into a packing shed. Saturday will be the best day - we are in the fields and hills again to check that the areas shown on maps correspond to the property titles.I enjoy this more than anything else here.
There are potential pitfalls to be avoided - there are for example 3 old woman all with identical names, who all live in the same street, and all in a row at 133, 134 and 135. They are not related at all. At some point they swapped various parcels of land for ease of working, and now noone really knows who owns what. Fortunately, City Hall takes a pragmatic view of these things - as long as we have a piece of paper saying we own such and such a piece of land, as certified by the Notary, they will register it. It's only 17 years since the land was returned to its owners, and it will take another generation for it all to be properly - as Alin says - "registrated."
I'm sure there will be a barbecue Saturday night before I am poured onto the train for Budapest.
Here in Romania everything is debated endlessly, which is why an agenda of 5 points took 8 hours to discuss.
The main talking point today was a man from the Ministry of Agriculture, who came bearing gifts - and was promptly shot down by all sides as his ministry had manifestly NOT done what it was supposed to have done. He did promise to take all the complaints back and sort them out, but the concensus of the meeting was that we would need to get on and do it ourselves - something I heartily agree with. We were strengthened by several new Mayors who had just won their places in the recent elections. These men ( and 1 woman) had all wanted to be involved in the LAG but the previous incumbents had been very old school. Now, we are reinvigorated.
One of our LAG members is Willy Schuster, the only remaining Saxon in Mosna, who is seriously into eco everything. His brochure for different cheeses, cream, yoghurt, herbs and what not has a quote from the Bible - "The Lord God took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden to dress and to keep it "( Genesis 2:15).
This really is the Garden of Eden come to life.I've never been more sure of anything but that we have to do our utmost to keep it if we are to deserve our primary place on Earth.
It's been a very busy few days, and will be even busier tomorrow and Saturday. The lawyer has really earned her money this week ( by the way, one standard contract translation today was Ron 25 - how does she make it up?) as has Alin, who has driven nearly 1000 miles ferrying people about. Work starts here at 7am, so quite often we have to be on the doorstep at that time. Bed is never until after midnight. I'm sure he is delighted when I go away again and he can get some sleep. If you have a look at page 2 here, Alin is in the bottom right hand picture with the dark hair and the sunglasses. But please have a look at the other pictures further down. You will get a feel for why I love it here.
The day ended with an excellent meal about 9pm ( it always takes a couple of hours to get the odd bits of business sorted after the meetings). Tonight was excellent celery soup, the most delicious garlic filled sausages, and, as ever, the cabbage salad. It's just as well we all had the same as we are all seriously pongy.
Tomorrow will be accountants,checking a couple of houses, builders and finally trying to conclude a deal for an old mill we want to turn into a packing shed. Saturday will be the best day - we are in the fields and hills again to check that the areas shown on maps correspond to the property titles.I enjoy this more than anything else here.
There are potential pitfalls to be avoided - there are for example 3 old woman all with identical names, who all live in the same street, and all in a row at 133, 134 and 135. They are not related at all. At some point they swapped various parcels of land for ease of working, and now noone really knows who owns what. Fortunately, City Hall takes a pragmatic view of these things - as long as we have a piece of paper saying we own such and such a piece of land, as certified by the Notary, they will register it. It's only 17 years since the land was returned to its owners, and it will take another generation for it all to be properly - as Alin says - "registrated."
I'm sure there will be a barbecue Saturday night before I am poured onto the train for Budapest.
Looking back to BGB ( Before Gordon Brown)
I just happened to look at a post I did in February 2007.
I know its not good to say "I told you so", but even then I was predicting the disaster Brown was and is, and that the Tories would form the next Government.
If only I was a betting man.....
I know its not good to say "I told you so", but even then I was predicting the disaster Brown was and is, and that the Tories would form the next Government.
If only I was a betting man.....
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Love
We own a domain name ( stillsexyatsixty.com) and I was doing some work on it. In order to access the information I wanted I had to type in a generated password.
What came up for the password? L-O-V-E.
What could be better?
What came up for the password? L-O-V-E.
What could be better?
Gordon Brown's ineptitude.
Quite by chance I was speaking today to the Romanian equivalent of a QC.
Extremely erudite ( as you would expect), he had a keen interest in all things Anglo-Saxon, having spent a couple of years in the UK earning enough to see himself through university.
Amongst other topics, Grodon Brown's sale of the UK gold reserves some years ago came in for scathing criticism, which is hardly surprising. It was probably the most ill-conceived and certainly the most cack-handed trade that was ever carried out.
The policy ( if that's what it is) which came in for the most derision was Brown's pledge to spend GBP200 million ( or is it GBP400million - noone seems quite sure) buying up newly-built flats for people and calling for first-time buyers to step onto the housing ladder. As even this foreign national, not very attached to UK news said " Does he not know that house prices are falling sharply in UK?"
In fact it could well be he doesn't. I have noticed that politicians always "do something" just when it no longer becomes necessary. One of my most treasured memories is of, I think, Jim Callaghan introducing index-linked gilts. I knew immediately inflation was going to fall.
As anyone with even half a gnat's brain knows, UK house prices are falling at their fastest rate ever. Forget about the drop over the last year - the last 3 months has seen the equivalent of 20% per annum wiped out.
So is this a good time for the government to be spending our money buying houses? No, it is not. Apart from the few housebuilders who might shift a bit of stock ( and at say GBP150,000 per house even GBP400million is only just over 2,500 houses or only 1% of what was sold even in the last 12 months of new build, and only 0.1% of the total sales last year) this is like the gold sale in reverse. Buy it at GBP150,000, sell it later at GBP100,000 if you're lucky. As opposed to sell it at USD 200 and watch it climb to USD 1000.
So, as my Romanian friend said, should he be encouraging youing people to get on the housing ladder? He answered the question himself. No, he should not. I would draw parallels here with Equitable Life, where Brown explicitly mislead thousands of policy holders, and the Ombudsman has said so, and awarded compensation. Whether they will get it is another matter.
If Brown were either prudent, economically competent or capable at all he would know that the economy will sort all these problems in time. Yes there will be hardship, yes some people will lose - but equally some people will profit. You might not like it, but that's the way it happens. Brown's interference will only make things worse.
So just think - we are back to being the "poor man of Europe" we used to be, and an Eastern European, only 19 years out of Communist rule, says so.
When was this phrase last used?
Oh yes, we had a Labour Government then as well, along with the "winter of discontent"
Did I read somewhere about 2.5million government employees going on strike just now? Oh, yes.
Oh well, we've been here before.
Extremely erudite ( as you would expect), he had a keen interest in all things Anglo-Saxon, having spent a couple of years in the UK earning enough to see himself through university.
Amongst other topics, Grodon Brown's sale of the UK gold reserves some years ago came in for scathing criticism, which is hardly surprising. It was probably the most ill-conceived and certainly the most cack-handed trade that was ever carried out.
The policy ( if that's what it is) which came in for the most derision was Brown's pledge to spend GBP200 million ( or is it GBP400million - noone seems quite sure) buying up newly-built flats for people and calling for first-time buyers to step onto the housing ladder. As even this foreign national, not very attached to UK news said " Does he not know that house prices are falling sharply in UK?"
In fact it could well be he doesn't. I have noticed that politicians always "do something" just when it no longer becomes necessary. One of my most treasured memories is of, I think, Jim Callaghan introducing index-linked gilts. I knew immediately inflation was going to fall.
As anyone with even half a gnat's brain knows, UK house prices are falling at their fastest rate ever. Forget about the drop over the last year - the last 3 months has seen the equivalent of 20% per annum wiped out.
So is this a good time for the government to be spending our money buying houses? No, it is not. Apart from the few housebuilders who might shift a bit of stock ( and at say GBP150,000 per house even GBP400million is only just over 2,500 houses or only 1% of what was sold even in the last 12 months of new build, and only 0.1% of the total sales last year) this is like the gold sale in reverse. Buy it at GBP150,000, sell it later at GBP100,000 if you're lucky. As opposed to sell it at USD 200 and watch it climb to USD 1000.
So, as my Romanian friend said, should he be encouraging youing people to get on the housing ladder? He answered the question himself. No, he should not. I would draw parallels here with Equitable Life, where Brown explicitly mislead thousands of policy holders, and the Ombudsman has said so, and awarded compensation. Whether they will get it is another matter.
If Brown were either prudent, economically competent or capable at all he would know that the economy will sort all these problems in time. Yes there will be hardship, yes some people will lose - but equally some people will profit. You might not like it, but that's the way it happens. Brown's interference will only make things worse.
So just think - we are back to being the "poor man of Europe" we used to be, and an Eastern European, only 19 years out of Communist rule, says so.
When was this phrase last used?
Oh yes, we had a Labour Government then as well, along with the "winter of discontent"
Did I read somewhere about 2.5million government employees going on strike just now? Oh, yes.
Oh well, we've been here before.
Lost in translation
In the lawyer's this morning I was much taken with the complete disregard for precise charges for things here. For example, the lady who is the official ( i.e. she has a stamp which says so) translator seems to dream up a figure for her fee which bears no relationship to the work she has done. Today, for three lengthy documents and four other standard sale contracts, she charged Ron 25 i.e. about GBP5. Last time out were just three standard contracts ( which I can now translate better than she does) the fee was about double.On other occasions it has been as low as Ron 10 and as high as Ron 80. The difference? I have absolutely no idea.
One of the drawbacks of having a top-notch lawyer in Sighisoara is that we have to bring the people from the villages about 45 minutes drive away. Some days, Alin does the round trip 4 or even 5 times. Alin usually picks them up and then I go back with him and the passengers on the last return. Today, one of the ladies suffered from travel sickness and we had to stop a time or two.Her sister made fun of her and said it was the result of the moisturiser she used. The two of them fell about laughing and then explained that they were too poor to buy Nivea, so they just used margarine - when they could afford it. The point, of course, is that they are subsistence farmers and have lots of butter which they make themselves - but have to buy the margarine.
The poor here are genuinely poor, in some cases worse off than even sub-Saharan Africa. Today I was in a house with a fire in the centre of the room, no windows ( despite having the gaps where they should be) chickens wandering about and an old lady who uses her back garden as the loo as its good for her vegetables. No longer able to support herself, she wanted to sell her land - all of an acre - which would guarantee her a pension from the state. Her son - who does nothing - wanted her to keep the land, so that when she died he would get it and he could get the benefit, not her.
Alin, being a kind hearted soul, immediately squashed that idea. We did a deal whereby we paid her an annuity as in that way she would get the use of the money and her son would not. The monthly amount was tiny, but together with the state pension it will be enough for her to live on. I also said I would buy her a new pair of glasses as hers were broken and the glass had been sticky-taped together. I put a Ron1 note in her grandchild's tiny hand.
Sometimes I want to cry when I leave these people's houses.
One of the drawbacks of having a top-notch lawyer in Sighisoara is that we have to bring the people from the villages about 45 minutes drive away. Some days, Alin does the round trip 4 or even 5 times. Alin usually picks them up and then I go back with him and the passengers on the last return. Today, one of the ladies suffered from travel sickness and we had to stop a time or two.Her sister made fun of her and said it was the result of the moisturiser she used. The two of them fell about laughing and then explained that they were too poor to buy Nivea, so they just used margarine - when they could afford it. The point, of course, is that they are subsistence farmers and have lots of butter which they make themselves - but have to buy the margarine.
The poor here are genuinely poor, in some cases worse off than even sub-Saharan Africa. Today I was in a house with a fire in the centre of the room, no windows ( despite having the gaps where they should be) chickens wandering about and an old lady who uses her back garden as the loo as its good for her vegetables. No longer able to support herself, she wanted to sell her land - all of an acre - which would guarantee her a pension from the state. Her son - who does nothing - wanted her to keep the land, so that when she died he would get it and he could get the benefit, not her.
Alin, being a kind hearted soul, immediately squashed that idea. We did a deal whereby we paid her an annuity as in that way she would get the use of the money and her son would not. The monthly amount was tiny, but together with the state pension it will be enough for her to live on. I also said I would buy her a new pair of glasses as hers were broken and the glass had been sticky-taped together. I put a Ron1 note in her grandchild's tiny hand.
Sometimes I want to cry when I leave these people's houses.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
There are no ugly women..
You can probably guess I am back in Romania. One would hardly dare utter such a remark in the UK for fear of being attacked as condescending and anti-feminist.
I have been spending my time doing more night time travelling and I've pretty much decided that I will travel overnight in future and not during the day. There are very many fewer people about and those that are travelling seem to be much pleasanter company. I won't bore you with the two trips in UK ( Glasgow to Lancaster and then Lancaster to London - the first departing about 11:30 pm, the second about 3am) nor the 10:30 Mortlake to Winnersh ( accompanied by a mime artist who, I think, had had a couple and refused to converse except through mime. Bit tricky with train inspectors), but will move directly to Budapest to Sighisoara.
Somehow, I was accompanied for the first couple of hours by a lovely little lady ( about 4ft tall and at least 4 ft round) from Macclesfield who was visiting her daughter. She and her husband had moved to Hungary 7 years ago, had a 13 year old daughter who spoke Hungarian fluently ( no mean feat I can tell you) and all of whom swore they would never return to the UK. "England's a bit sad at the moment" said Ellie," I'd leave too except my husband's disabled and I don't want to move him.
Mind you, once he's gone I'll be off like a rocket."
It was the use of " a bit sad" that brought home to me how low Blair and Brown had driven us.
When I woke up I had no idea where I was. The train had been held up by a tree or two that had been blown across the track, so we were 2 hours late. However, I'd never seen the area we were crossing in daylight, and I had an exchange of texts with Alin which finally pinpointed how late we were.
Needless to say, that meant the day started 2 hours late, so we only got to Nemsa about 2pm - 2 hours later than expected - and were met with a tidal wave of property titles and old ladies shaking pieces of paper at us, all demanding attention.
By the time we sorted them all out I was almost unable to understand another "2914/2 is 3700 sq mtrs and she's the sister of the lady's husband who wants to sell 3417/10 of 7300 sq. mtrs on the hill beyond the other one..."
I think we picked up some more land where we wanted it...
Of course, by then it was after 7 pm, so we were already an hour late for the barbecue. This was the mayor's one for the reconsecration of the new cross brought from Spain for the new Church.. only, as with all these sort of things, the Cross had not arrived and the priest from Alma Vii was busy, so it was just a barbecue. We did all raise ourt glasses to the new Cross, and poured a libation on the ground.
Vasily, not noted for his PC attitude, was contemplating the seried ranks of old crones ladeling food onto their plates.
" Na Vasily, " I said ( through Alin) why are you standing looking so thoughful?"
"Well, Mr. King, I was just looking at all these ladies that someone has loved - and a great truth came to me."
"And?" I prompted.
" There are no ugly women - only men who have not drunk enough."
And with that he downed another glass of tuica and wandered off.
I have been spending my time doing more night time travelling and I've pretty much decided that I will travel overnight in future and not during the day. There are very many fewer people about and those that are travelling seem to be much pleasanter company. I won't bore you with the two trips in UK ( Glasgow to Lancaster and then Lancaster to London - the first departing about 11:30 pm, the second about 3am) nor the 10:30 Mortlake to Winnersh ( accompanied by a mime artist who, I think, had had a couple and refused to converse except through mime. Bit tricky with train inspectors), but will move directly to Budapest to Sighisoara.
Somehow, I was accompanied for the first couple of hours by a lovely little lady ( about 4ft tall and at least 4 ft round) from Macclesfield who was visiting her daughter. She and her husband had moved to Hungary 7 years ago, had a 13 year old daughter who spoke Hungarian fluently ( no mean feat I can tell you) and all of whom swore they would never return to the UK. "England's a bit sad at the moment" said Ellie," I'd leave too except my husband's disabled and I don't want to move him.
Mind you, once he's gone I'll be off like a rocket."
It was the use of " a bit sad" that brought home to me how low Blair and Brown had driven us.
When I woke up I had no idea where I was. The train had been held up by a tree or two that had been blown across the track, so we were 2 hours late. However, I'd never seen the area we were crossing in daylight, and I had an exchange of texts with Alin which finally pinpointed how late we were.
Needless to say, that meant the day started 2 hours late, so we only got to Nemsa about 2pm - 2 hours later than expected - and were met with a tidal wave of property titles and old ladies shaking pieces of paper at us, all demanding attention.
By the time we sorted them all out I was almost unable to understand another "2914/2 is 3700 sq mtrs and she's the sister of the lady's husband who wants to sell 3417/10 of 7300 sq. mtrs on the hill beyond the other one..."
I think we picked up some more land where we wanted it...
Of course, by then it was after 7 pm, so we were already an hour late for the barbecue. This was the mayor's one for the reconsecration of the new cross brought from Spain for the new Church.. only, as with all these sort of things, the Cross had not arrived and the priest from Alma Vii was busy, so it was just a barbecue. We did all raise ourt glasses to the new Cross, and poured a libation on the ground.
Vasily, not noted for his PC attitude, was contemplating the seried ranks of old crones ladeling food onto their plates.
" Na Vasily, " I said ( through Alin) why are you standing looking so thoughful?"
"Well, Mr. King, I was just looking at all these ladies that someone has loved - and a great truth came to me."
"And?" I prompted.
" There are no ugly women - only men who have not drunk enough."
And with that he downed another glass of tuica and wandered off.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Social responsibility & personal too.
I missed this earlier - it chimes most excellently with my own views, so it must be right .. er, yes, that's right.
Back to the 50's
I was trying to laugh at Gordon Brown telling us all to eat less and don't throw away so much food. As I say trying, but failing.Guido has an excellent piece on what one can only refer to as a gargantuan feast that the G8 are having over in Japan. Brown's comments rather smack of Marie Antoinette's " Let them eat cake."
Anyway, I am old enough to remember the 50's and food certainly was NOT wasted then. Everything was hoarded and reused. Some of it was certainly a continuing dearth of food since the war years, but quite a lot of it was just old fashioned good housekeeping.
And debt? Anathema. I remember my mother wanted a new Hoover, and bought it on HP about 1956. Her mother was furious with her - and all for 6 shillings a week ( that's 30p. in our profligate times.)
But the thing that sticks in my mind most was the attitude to television.
It was not a question of not being able to afford it. Oh no. It was a question of NOT having that timewaster in the house - said with a gleam of fanaticism in the eye.
What changed attitudes was the Coronation of 1953.
It suddenly became almost a patriotic duty to be able to receive what truly were historic pictures.
It was exciting too. Nowadays there is little or nothing that really excites us - we've been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, buy a bigger car, but it's all just froth and non-sense. I feel really sorry for the present generation. I daresay it's an old man's conceit, but I can't see things being as exciting and as much fun as my generation's time.
In any event, I don't think they'll have any money to do anything with anyway.
Something did excite me today, though. I bought one of those ASUS eee mini laptops. When I was a wee boy there was a fantastic programme on the TV during Children's Hour, called "Billy Bean and his funny machine." It really was amazing, too. Of course, none of it was real, but it was such fun that to this day, any gadget in our household is called a Billy Bean.
So I'm doing this on my new Billy Bean.
Har har har.
Anyway, I am old enough to remember the 50's and food certainly was NOT wasted then. Everything was hoarded and reused. Some of it was certainly a continuing dearth of food since the war years, but quite a lot of it was just old fashioned good housekeeping.
And debt? Anathema. I remember my mother wanted a new Hoover, and bought it on HP about 1956. Her mother was furious with her - and all for 6 shillings a week ( that's 30p. in our profligate times.)
But the thing that sticks in my mind most was the attitude to television.
It was not a question of not being able to afford it. Oh no. It was a question of NOT having that timewaster in the house - said with a gleam of fanaticism in the eye.
What changed attitudes was the Coronation of 1953.
It suddenly became almost a patriotic duty to be able to receive what truly were historic pictures.
It was exciting too. Nowadays there is little or nothing that really excites us - we've been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, buy a bigger car, but it's all just froth and non-sense. I feel really sorry for the present generation. I daresay it's an old man's conceit, but I can't see things being as exciting and as much fun as my generation's time.
In any event, I don't think they'll have any money to do anything with anyway.
Something did excite me today, though. I bought one of those ASUS eee mini laptops. When I was a wee boy there was a fantastic programme on the TV during Children's Hour, called "Billy Bean and his funny machine." It really was amazing, too. Of course, none of it was real, but it was such fun that to this day, any gadget in our household is called a Billy Bean.
So I'm doing this on my new Billy Bean.
Har har har.
IF
The Wonderful Winchester Whisperer has produced the poem in full to which I alluded yesterday.
I'd forgotten just now powerful it is in full - as ever, it's just snatches that come back to me.
If we all lived up to it and stopped our morbid interest in " celebrity", if we took our own responsibility for matters, and we gave our lives to service rather than to selfishness we'd all be better off.
Shakespeare had it right in The Tempest - true freedom consists in service.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
'Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son.
Sends shivers down my spine, anyway.
I'd forgotten just now powerful it is in full - as ever, it's just snatches that come back to me.
If we all lived up to it and stopped our morbid interest in " celebrity", if we took our own responsibility for matters, and we gave our lives to service rather than to selfishness we'd all be better off.
Shakespeare had it right in The Tempest - true freedom consists in service.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
'Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son.
Sends shivers down my spine, anyway.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
"C'est la vie"
For reasons I don't understand there has been a distinct increase in the number of people using this expression in recent weeks. It can only be a fatalistic acceptable of the toilet we are all about to go down after Gordon Brown's prudent handling of the economy. As I've said before, this man and his entire set of incompetents never had a principle, never understood the first thing about economics, money, or even human beings. Tony Blair was pretty much the same - except he understood people and how to con them.
So it is with some regret I report this increase in the use of the expression.
I do like it though. In the wonderful poem " If" - which I believe I have always tried to live up to - if you can treat success and failure with equal disdain, you will be a man ( or nowadays I suppose it would have to be " a person". Sigh) So perhaps what's happening is good for the British psyche. We have spent too long complaining, suing for no good reason, wanting the government " to do something" that perhaps we have come to realise that actually no one IS going to do anything and we have to do it for ourselves. The Brits are nothing if not easy going and tolerant, yet stubborn and indomitable when required. Bob Geldof gave a marvellous speech ( reported by Iain Dale) in David Davis' constituency which summed out what we are.
The most poignant " C'est la vie" was definitely Freddy Mercury. Clearly dying, he was interviewed and, when asked whether he had regrets, replied " No - whatever happens it's just - C'est la vie" - and with a shrug of the shoulders that was the end of the interview.
So lets get rid of envy, of jealousy and bitterness, and take on a mantle of getting on with it, good or bad.
And an outlook that is prepared to accept the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and by opposing, end them.
PS:
Gypsy Rover's owner even uses it about a missed chance to ride on the footplate of a steam train - but there it's cie la vie. Not sure if that's a typo or an attempt to inject an NZ accent.
So it is with some regret I report this increase in the use of the expression.
I do like it though. In the wonderful poem " If" - which I believe I have always tried to live up to - if you can treat success and failure with equal disdain, you will be a man ( or nowadays I suppose it would have to be " a person". Sigh) So perhaps what's happening is good for the British psyche. We have spent too long complaining, suing for no good reason, wanting the government " to do something" that perhaps we have come to realise that actually no one IS going to do anything and we have to do it for ourselves. The Brits are nothing if not easy going and tolerant, yet stubborn and indomitable when required. Bob Geldof gave a marvellous speech ( reported by Iain Dale) in David Davis' constituency which summed out what we are.
The most poignant " C'est la vie" was definitely Freddy Mercury. Clearly dying, he was interviewed and, when asked whether he had regrets, replied " No - whatever happens it's just - C'est la vie" - and with a shrug of the shoulders that was the end of the interview.
So lets get rid of envy, of jealousy and bitterness, and take on a mantle of getting on with it, good or bad.
And an outlook that is prepared to accept the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and by opposing, end them.
PS:
Gypsy Rover's owner even uses it about a missed chance to ride on the footplate of a steam train - but there it's cie la vie. Not sure if that's a typo or an attempt to inject an NZ accent.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Down and out in Munich
So Mr. Fact had taken himself off for a drink with his pal to a bier-stube in Munich. It was just a bar, nothing special, but in the way of these things rather atmospheric and subterranean.
At a table near the counter there is a grizzly down-and-out slumped in a pool of beer. There is a piano in the corner.
Mr. Fact and his friend order a couple of litres of beer, and take themselves to another table.
All is quiet. There is no one else in the bar. They speak in hushed tones.
Suddenly, the dosser leaps to his feet and charges to the piano, dripping beer from his head.
He collapses on the stool, and begins to play, crashing out a first chord. Mr. Fact and his friend wince.
But then the dosser starts to play the second and third notes, and Mr. Fact ( being a factual sort of person) realises that the music is by Beethoven. The dosser continues most beautifully until the end of the piece. He finishes as many concert pianists do, with arms held straight before him,fingers caressing the keyboard, leaning back, eyes closed in rapture. He holds the last note perfectly.
Then he passes out and topples over backwards onto the floor.
" Just leave him" says the barkeep. " He's the cheapest piano player we've ever had here. He's entitled to 5 litres of beer a night but can't remember beyond two, so we are always marks in (Ed.: it should have been euros). But he does play beautifully doesn't he?"
Mr. Fact agreed - even when the dosser eventually came to and started playing Jazz.
At a table near the counter there is a grizzly down-and-out slumped in a pool of beer. There is a piano in the corner.
Mr. Fact and his friend order a couple of litres of beer, and take themselves to another table.
All is quiet. There is no one else in the bar. They speak in hushed tones.
Suddenly, the dosser leaps to his feet and charges to the piano, dripping beer from his head.
He collapses on the stool, and begins to play, crashing out a first chord. Mr. Fact and his friend wince.
But then the dosser starts to play the second and third notes, and Mr. Fact ( being a factual sort of person) realises that the music is by Beethoven. The dosser continues most beautifully until the end of the piece. He finishes as many concert pianists do, with arms held straight before him,fingers caressing the keyboard, leaning back, eyes closed in rapture. He holds the last note perfectly.
Then he passes out and topples over backwards onto the floor.
" Just leave him" says the barkeep. " He's the cheapest piano player we've ever had here. He's entitled to 5 litres of beer a night but can't remember beyond two, so we are always marks in (Ed.: it should have been euros). But he does play beautifully doesn't he?"
Mr. Fact agreed - even when the dosser eventually came to and started playing Jazz.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
The despicable way this Government treats the Gurkhas.
I know I go on about it, but we have yet another instance of how badly the Gurkhas are treated. The Spectator Coffee House has a bit on it. Please go online at www.gwt.org.uk and donate.
REALLY cheap
My car was in this morning for it's MOT ( you can tell I'm cheap just from that sentence).
However, whilst in the Peugeot dealer, their maintenance manager told me the following story.
He had gone to one of the major garage groups in Scotland to get a spare part for a Renault. He collected it and signed for it in the usual way.
" Here" said the stores manager " You're entitled to a scratch card"
"No thanks," said Willie, " I never bother with those things"
" Naw naw - here, you have to take it."
" I don't want it"
" Here, I'll scratch it for you."
" I'm not bothered"
scratch scratch scratch,
" Look, you've got a star. It means you've won a prize."
" What's the prize?"
Store man reaches under counter and produces a Mars bar.
Willie is astonished, and reaches for the bar.
" No you can't have it. It's only for members of the public." And the store man proceeds to eat the bar.
Through munching teeth he says " Actually all the bars are counted against the cards and I have to sign for them every day."
A property surveyor tells me he has taken to turning off the hot water each night when he leaves his office.
" Every mickle makes a muckle," as your granny almost certainly didn't say.
However, whilst in the Peugeot dealer, their maintenance manager told me the following story.
He had gone to one of the major garage groups in Scotland to get a spare part for a Renault. He collected it and signed for it in the usual way.
" Here" said the stores manager " You're entitled to a scratch card"
"No thanks," said Willie, " I never bother with those things"
" Naw naw - here, you have to take it."
" I don't want it"
" Here, I'll scratch it for you."
" I'm not bothered"
scratch scratch scratch,
" Look, you've got a star. It means you've won a prize."
" What's the prize?"
Store man reaches under counter and produces a Mars bar.
Willie is astonished, and reaches for the bar.
" No you can't have it. It's only for members of the public." And the store man proceeds to eat the bar.
Through munching teeth he says " Actually all the bars are counted against the cards and I have to sign for them every day."
A property surveyor tells me he has taken to turning off the hot water each night when he leaves his office.
" Every mickle makes a muckle," as your granny almost certainly didn't say.
The Honour's system is cheap.
I've never really bothered about the UK Honours system, but yesterday a relative of Mrs. Lear got his CBE. Very pretty it is too.
It was the Holyrood Garden Party yesterday with the investiture beforehand. Fascinators everywhere, masses of ill-fitting ladies shoes, and rather good sandwiches.
Mrs. L's relative then had 16 for a private dinner in a venerable club (which was rather good) and a jolly evening was had by all. The lady on my right ( about to have her 40th birthday) was complaining bitterly that the people she was due to go on holiday with to a villa sleeping 16 had (she assured me) never had a days discord in 12 years of marriage, and had decided to split up and ruin their hokiday. The husband simply announced he didn't love her any more and left. As the wife was her friend, I opined that the wife and child could still come, but my neighbour refused to contemplate it.
Anyway, whilst being shown the CBE, I asked where the recipient's previous gong was.
" Oh," he said," They make you give them back"
And it's true. Unless you die clutching it, if you get a new one you have to give the old one back. The same applies to all orders.
This means, of course, that there is a huge saving on gongs.
Bit cheapskate I'd have said.
It was the Holyrood Garden Party yesterday with the investiture beforehand. Fascinators everywhere, masses of ill-fitting ladies shoes, and rather good sandwiches.
Mrs. L's relative then had 16 for a private dinner in a venerable club (which was rather good) and a jolly evening was had by all. The lady on my right ( about to have her 40th birthday) was complaining bitterly that the people she was due to go on holiday with to a villa sleeping 16 had (she assured me) never had a days discord in 12 years of marriage, and had decided to split up and ruin their hokiday. The husband simply announced he didn't love her any more and left. As the wife was her friend, I opined that the wife and child could still come, but my neighbour refused to contemplate it.
Anyway, whilst being shown the CBE, I asked where the recipient's previous gong was.
" Oh," he said," They make you give them back"
And it's true. Unless you die clutching it, if you get a new one you have to give the old one back. The same applies to all orders.
This means, of course, that there is a huge saving on gongs.
Bit cheapskate I'd have said.
Friday, June 27, 2008
I'm Cheap
People who know me will be aware how magnificently generous I am - except to myself.
Further to my night time journeys for peanuts, I have managed to figure out some extraordinary cheap train fares about the place - not necessarily convenient, but cheap. Glasgow to London via Edinburgh for £15.70 and return via a wait in Warrington for a mere £12.70 - both booked the day before travel. Even inconvenient flights were into the £200 bracket.
And overnight? A B&B in Barnes ( I was admittedly meeting someone just nearby early the next day) which, had there been two of us,would have been a total of £38.50.
Unfortunately , as there was only me, it was still £38.50.
The total for a day and a half in London and overnight was thus £66.90 which is actually less than it costs me to stay at home per day.
Mind you Mrs. Lear has opined that she is very happy for me to travel any way I like - just as long as I don't take her with me. Or if I do the same thing has the decimal point moved to the right.
PS Teleograph has its social stereotype today as the cheap traveller. I don't recongise myself at all...
Further to my night time journeys for peanuts, I have managed to figure out some extraordinary cheap train fares about the place - not necessarily convenient, but cheap. Glasgow to London via Edinburgh for £15.70 and return via a wait in Warrington for a mere £12.70 - both booked the day before travel. Even inconvenient flights were into the £200 bracket.
And overnight? A B&B in Barnes ( I was admittedly meeting someone just nearby early the next day) which, had there been two of us,would have been a total of £38.50.
Unfortunately , as there was only me, it was still £38.50.
The total for a day and a half in London and overnight was thus £66.90 which is actually less than it costs me to stay at home per day.
Mind you Mrs. Lear has opined that she is very happy for me to travel any way I like - just as long as I don't take her with me. Or if I do the same thing has the decimal point moved to the right.
PS Teleograph has its social stereotype today as the cheap traveller. I don't recongise myself at all...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
My Winter Fuel Allowance
As I become 60 on Sptember 3rd, I have been sent a form to fill in to collect £125 or £250 depending on my circumstances.
Now a few things come to mind as I check this form.
Nowhere does it say what the circumstances have to be to get one or the other sum of money.
It clearly has my birth-date, my NI number ( I always think of it as National HEALTH Insurance - but then I'm old) my address and my full name on the form. The accompanying leaflet tells me a) my Date of Birth is unchecked and b) my NI number is unverified as well.
Now if that's the case, how could they send me the form in the first place?
I have to send them my ORIGINAL birth certificate. This ignores the fact that all this information is actually stored by the Government both in the NI computers and the Registrar of Births Deaths and Marriages computers and ledgers.
So instead of a couple of clicks on a computer, a complete industry/department has been set up to receive bits of paper, look at them, put some ticks on another bit of paper, initial it, and then post the original bits of paper back to me.
I mean, really.
PS I was collecting a cheque last night for the Gurkha Welfare Trust from a Rotary Club in Renfrew. I know these people are not left-leaners in any way, but I was staggered at the vitriol and hate that emerged about Labour, Gordon Brown and the Government in Westminster in general.
These are the people who should want to keep the Union, and who probably voted for Tony Blair.
They no longer want the Union nor anything to do with Labour.
Just shows how good a leader Brown has been.
I think "has been" is the appropriate expression.
Now a few things come to mind as I check this form.
Nowhere does it say what the circumstances have to be to get one or the other sum of money.
It clearly has my birth-date, my NI number ( I always think of it as National HEALTH Insurance - but then I'm old) my address and my full name on the form. The accompanying leaflet tells me a) my Date of Birth is unchecked and b) my NI number is unverified as well.
Now if that's the case, how could they send me the form in the first place?
I have to send them my ORIGINAL birth certificate. This ignores the fact that all this information is actually stored by the Government both in the NI computers and the Registrar of Births Deaths and Marriages computers and ledgers.
So instead of a couple of clicks on a computer, a complete industry/department has been set up to receive bits of paper, look at them, put some ticks on another bit of paper, initial it, and then post the original bits of paper back to me.
I mean, really.
PS I was collecting a cheque last night for the Gurkha Welfare Trust from a Rotary Club in Renfrew. I know these people are not left-leaners in any way, but I was staggered at the vitriol and hate that emerged about Labour, Gordon Brown and the Government in Westminster in general.
These are the people who should want to keep the Union, and who probably voted for Tony Blair.
They no longer want the Union nor anything to do with Labour.
Just shows how good a leader Brown has been.
I think "has been" is the appropriate expression.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
More on the Real Economy
Some little ******* stuck a nail in one of my tyres this morning, so off to get it fixed.
I was the only person in what is normally a very busy tyre place. The boss-man told me that it's been the same since about the end of January. People are using their cars less and driving slower, hence not needing so many tyres. He bought a new car in January when it cost him £58 to fill up. Now it costs £74. His mate owns a petrol station and he's down about 20% from last year in throughput, although his cashflow is well up.
The most interesting bit was the cost of filling his petrol tank. That is clearly a statistic that people latch on to ( viz. the publican in Cheshire recently) and certainly I've noticed the same thing.
We're heading for a serious downturn.
I was the only person in what is normally a very busy tyre place. The boss-man told me that it's been the same since about the end of January. People are using their cars less and driving slower, hence not needing so many tyres. He bought a new car in January when it cost him £58 to fill up. Now it costs £74. His mate owns a petrol station and he's down about 20% from last year in throughput, although his cashflow is well up.
The most interesting bit was the cost of filling his petrol tank. That is clearly a statistic that people latch on to ( viz. the publican in Cheshire recently) and certainly I've noticed the same thing.
We're heading for a serious downturn.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Death comes unexpectedly
I've always liked that quote from Karl Malden in Polyanna. It seems to me to encapsulate the human condition. Doctors have told me that dead people frequently have a surprised look on their faces, even if they have been ill for some time.
Except that people seem to be aware when it is near for them.
The other day a friend was telling me about his mother, who, well in her 90s, still spent a lot of time checking her bank balances, even though she could hardly move. She hated being deaf and less than able. Conversation became difficult.
And yet she clung on.
My friend was slightly surprised when she was finally taken to hospital and diagnosed with a blood clot. She died quite quickly thereafter.
My friend had been in a very difficult situation for many years, but finally, recently, the position had resolved itself, both in his own mind and in fact.
I would maintain that the old lady kept going until she knew my friend was settled and that everything would be all right. Although he had never spoken to her about it, I would suggest his demeanour told her everything she needed to know.
RIP
Except that people seem to be aware when it is near for them.
The other day a friend was telling me about his mother, who, well in her 90s, still spent a lot of time checking her bank balances, even though she could hardly move. She hated being deaf and less than able. Conversation became difficult.
And yet she clung on.
My friend was slightly surprised when she was finally taken to hospital and diagnosed with a blood clot. She died quite quickly thereafter.
My friend had been in a very difficult situation for many years, but finally, recently, the position had resolved itself, both in his own mind and in fact.
I would maintain that the old lady kept going until she knew my friend was settled and that everything would be all right. Although he had never spoken to her about it, I would suggest his demeanour told her everything she needed to know.
RIP
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Lonesomeness.com
I have been doing some work on domain names today.
One of the domains we own is Lonesomeness.com. For a variety of reasons I have been changing some of the servers over, from one monetizer to another. When you add a domain, a suggested category comes up.
When I typed in lonesomeness.com, the suggested category was " Diseases"
I'd never really thought of it like that.
The really great thing about it is it isn't catching.
One of the domains we own is Lonesomeness.com. For a variety of reasons I have been changing some of the servers over, from one monetizer to another. When you add a domain, a suggested category comes up.
When I typed in lonesomeness.com, the suggested category was " Diseases"
I'd never really thought of it like that.
The really great thing about it is it isn't catching.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Night Rider
For a variety of reasons ( mainly available dates and my perennial meanness) I have spent most of a couple of nights in airports and train stations over the last ten days or so.
I'm actually thinking of writing a book about it - I found it fascinating.
The first one was in Stansted, when a late flight from Prestwick gave me a three hour wait for check in to open to Pisa. You might ask why Pisa as I've been in Romania. Suffice it to say there is a direct flight from Bergamo ( 4 hours away) direct to Cluj in Transylvania. Yes, quite.
Anyway, there I was having a cup of coffee at 1am, doing my emails, and all around me were literally hundreds of other people doing exactly the same thing. I know Stansted is a busy airport, but it appears that it is almost impossible to get there for check-in for their 05:30 and 06:00 departures. So lots of people, reliant on public transport, take the last train out and then just sit there.
There is the endless whine of the floor cleaning machine, expertly zig-zagged through recumbent figures. All the cleaners seemed to be speaking Romanian or Polish. There was one Brit in overall charge, who could only speak to the two groups via the self-appointed leader of each nationality. And they all spent most of the time on their mobile phones. Whether any actual instructions were delivered or received is, I would suggest, entirely open to debate.
Coming back, I ended up in Liverpool airport until about 2am, where I was accosted for money every few minutes. But I did meet an extremely helpful Arriva Bus man, who told me where to go to get some sleep and even where to get the bus to take me near to Lime Street Station.
Only it didn't go near the station. The driver took me TO the station. It was like having a rather large private taxi, and half way there the driver stopped to pick up his mate who was going somewhere else.
Once at the station, it emerged it didn't open for another half hour, but the head cleaner ( no Poles here, only Scousers - presumably they worked for even less than the Poles) took me across the road to a 24 hour cafe for taxi drivers. We spent the half hour eating the most delicious bacon and tomato sandwiches and drinking freshly brewed Cona coffee, and chatting of this and that. There was a riotous card school in one corner, and memorabilia of both Everton and Liverpool on the walls. We sauntered back to the station, where he let me in ten minutes early, let me into the loo for free, and made sure I got on the right train.
Which went to Manchester, where I had to change to get the train to Glasgow.
Now Manchester Piccadilly was seriously jolly. It was literally crammed with young people all in party gear waiting for the first trains to take them home to bed. They rode up and down the escalators whilst the staff looked on benevolently, until one young man fell over trying to run up a down escalator.
" Now now," said the watcher," You'll hurt yourself doing that". Which indeed he had as he was out cold - not from concussion but from alcohol.
" We just put them in the waiting room to sober up, " the watcher confided, as he and his mate dragged the now-snoring young man along. They opened the door to the waiting room, and dragged him into the middle of the floor where there were about another 30 assorted snoring males and females.
" Do you ever get any trouble? " I asked.
" Nah, " said his mate. " They're well beyond causing any problems by the time they get here. We sometimes have to throw water on them to wake them up before 6 as that's when the coppers come on duty, but other than that, not much to bother about."
I finally got onto the Glasgow train just after 4 and was able to sleep most of the way north - except when the " Train Manager" changed at Carlisle and woke everyone up, telling us so.
I rather liked the Virgin description of Glasgow as a place to visit.
"Follow the banks of the river as it winds through the city, and take a summer walk to Ibrox."
Ibrox is where Rangers play.
They are known as the Huns.
And behave rather like them during WWII.
I'm actually thinking of writing a book about it - I found it fascinating.
The first one was in Stansted, when a late flight from Prestwick gave me a three hour wait for check in to open to Pisa. You might ask why Pisa as I've been in Romania. Suffice it to say there is a direct flight from Bergamo ( 4 hours away) direct to Cluj in Transylvania. Yes, quite.
Anyway, there I was having a cup of coffee at 1am, doing my emails, and all around me were literally hundreds of other people doing exactly the same thing. I know Stansted is a busy airport, but it appears that it is almost impossible to get there for check-in for their 05:30 and 06:00 departures. So lots of people, reliant on public transport, take the last train out and then just sit there.
There is the endless whine of the floor cleaning machine, expertly zig-zagged through recumbent figures. All the cleaners seemed to be speaking Romanian or Polish. There was one Brit in overall charge, who could only speak to the two groups via the self-appointed leader of each nationality. And they all spent most of the time on their mobile phones. Whether any actual instructions were delivered or received is, I would suggest, entirely open to debate.
Coming back, I ended up in Liverpool airport until about 2am, where I was accosted for money every few minutes. But I did meet an extremely helpful Arriva Bus man, who told me where to go to get some sleep and even where to get the bus to take me near to Lime Street Station.
Only it didn't go near the station. The driver took me TO the station. It was like having a rather large private taxi, and half way there the driver stopped to pick up his mate who was going somewhere else.
Once at the station, it emerged it didn't open for another half hour, but the head cleaner ( no Poles here, only Scousers - presumably they worked for even less than the Poles) took me across the road to a 24 hour cafe for taxi drivers. We spent the half hour eating the most delicious bacon and tomato sandwiches and drinking freshly brewed Cona coffee, and chatting of this and that. There was a riotous card school in one corner, and memorabilia of both Everton and Liverpool on the walls. We sauntered back to the station, where he let me in ten minutes early, let me into the loo for free, and made sure I got on the right train.
Which went to Manchester, where I had to change to get the train to Glasgow.
Now Manchester Piccadilly was seriously jolly. It was literally crammed with young people all in party gear waiting for the first trains to take them home to bed. They rode up and down the escalators whilst the staff looked on benevolently, until one young man fell over trying to run up a down escalator.
" Now now," said the watcher," You'll hurt yourself doing that". Which indeed he had as he was out cold - not from concussion but from alcohol.
" We just put them in the waiting room to sober up, " the watcher confided, as he and his mate dragged the now-snoring young man along. They opened the door to the waiting room, and dragged him into the middle of the floor where there were about another 30 assorted snoring males and females.
" Do you ever get any trouble? " I asked.
" Nah, " said his mate. " They're well beyond causing any problems by the time they get here. We sometimes have to throw water on them to wake them up before 6 as that's when the coppers come on duty, but other than that, not much to bother about."
I finally got onto the Glasgow train just after 4 and was able to sleep most of the way north - except when the " Train Manager" changed at Carlisle and woke everyone up, telling us so.
I rather liked the Virgin description of Glasgow as a place to visit.
"Follow the banks of the river as it winds through the city, and take a summer walk to Ibrox."
Ibrox is where Rangers play.
They are known as the Huns.
And behave rather like them during WWII.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The Flower Ladies of Sighisoara
Now here's a nice little story.
Over the last few months I have noticed an increase in little old ladies selling a few bunches of flowers around town. You may recall the basket of violets I bought some months ago and handed round to various people.
Anyway, whilst waiting for Alin today sitting in the medieval square, one little old lady was doing her trade. I hadn't watched any of them before.
People were coming up to her and taking pictures. She put on the sweetest, slightly sad smile, proferring a bunch of mixed wild flowers. Everyone refused them ( of course, they are tourists, what are they going to do with them?) but handed her a small note or a few coins.
Now you may recall that the basket of flowers I bought cost about GBP1. Well, within about 10 minutes, this lady today had been given about GBP6.
Not long afterwards, another little old lady came along and took about half the money away.
I was fascinated, and when Alin arrived, we went over to the flower lady and asked her about her trade.
Naturally cagey ( we could have been tax inspectors I suppose) she admitted that all the ladies were employed by one old lady who effectively controlled the pitches. Half of everything they earned went to this higher up lady, who provided them all with the few flowers they had.
It then dawned on me that of course their business was not selling flowers - it was having their pictures taken. When I put this to her, the lady admitted that on a good day she could earn in total about GBP50 - ie GBP25 to herself. This is the equivalent a week's wages. She also told me the boss lady had started about 4 years ago just herself, and had now built up her business to control 30 little old flower ladies. She had to pay for their licences and pitches to the City Hall, but, naturally, noone else would be allowed a look in as she made healthy contributions to the Mayor's reelection fund.
The nicest part about it was that aspiring employees had to pass a smile test - if it wasn't sweet enough, or sad enough, they didn't get taken on.
Lovely.
Over the last few months I have noticed an increase in little old ladies selling a few bunches of flowers around town. You may recall the basket of violets I bought some months ago and handed round to various people.
Anyway, whilst waiting for Alin today sitting in the medieval square, one little old lady was doing her trade. I hadn't watched any of them before.
People were coming up to her and taking pictures. She put on the sweetest, slightly sad smile, proferring a bunch of mixed wild flowers. Everyone refused them ( of course, they are tourists, what are they going to do with them?) but handed her a small note or a few coins.
Now you may recall that the basket of flowers I bought cost about GBP1. Well, within about 10 minutes, this lady today had been given about GBP6.
Not long afterwards, another little old lady came along and took about half the money away.
I was fascinated, and when Alin arrived, we went over to the flower lady and asked her about her trade.
Naturally cagey ( we could have been tax inspectors I suppose) she admitted that all the ladies were employed by one old lady who effectively controlled the pitches. Half of everything they earned went to this higher up lady, who provided them all with the few flowers they had.
It then dawned on me that of course their business was not selling flowers - it was having their pictures taken. When I put this to her, the lady admitted that on a good day she could earn in total about GBP50 - ie GBP25 to herself. This is the equivalent a week's wages. She also told me the boss lady had started about 4 years ago just herself, and had now built up her business to control 30 little old flower ladies. She had to pay for their licences and pitches to the City Hall, but, naturally, noone else would be allowed a look in as she made healthy contributions to the Mayor's reelection fund.
The nicest part about it was that aspiring employees had to pass a smile test - if it wasn't sweet enough, or sad enough, they didn't get taken on.
Lovely.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Hard work
It's been hard work today getting anyone to talk of anything other than the crucial Romania -Holland match tonight, along-side the equally critical Italy-France.
Romanians, perhaps for the first time ever, are united in their support for something.
They are not confident, but they are determined they will all be watching and shrieking at the top of their voices. There are lots of different parties on the go, and I've been invited to the one at the "Rustic" ( pronounced "roostick") in Sighisoara. It's where I eat the schnitzel & farmer's potatotes, absolutely delicious.
This being Romania, you can't get into any of these parties unless you have a connection. Mine is with the owner of the main hotel here who stood for Mayor of Sighisoara recently, and came last. You might think that isn't too impressive, until you know that this is very much a "pay your dues" society. There were six candidates. The incumbent mayor won in the second round for his second term. Next time, he will have to stand down to let the runner-up this time win. So in 8 years time, my friend will be the runner up and 4 years after that he will get to be mayor and recoup all the money it will have cost him. You might wonder about the arithmetic of this, but believe me, this is what is going to happen. Anyway Adi also owns the Rustic, and has closed it for his friends tonight.
Why am I not with the Mayor of Mosna, I hear you ask.
Yesterday was the LAG meeting, followed by the official Mayoral inauguration dinner.
I think the best thing is to pull a veil over it. The City Hall this morning was shut, and, although I saw the Mayor, he assured me he had eaten a bad sarmale and was going home.
What of the potential results tonight?
The lady who sells me the morning Fornetti ( sort of mini sausage-rolls, but with cheese in them) has had hundreds of people telling her the results. So she has taken the average.
Holand 3 Romania 1. Italy 2 France 1.
You heard it here first.
Romanians, perhaps for the first time ever, are united in their support for something.
They are not confident, but they are determined they will all be watching and shrieking at the top of their voices. There are lots of different parties on the go, and I've been invited to the one at the "Rustic" ( pronounced "roostick") in Sighisoara. It's where I eat the schnitzel & farmer's potatotes, absolutely delicious.
This being Romania, you can't get into any of these parties unless you have a connection. Mine is with the owner of the main hotel here who stood for Mayor of Sighisoara recently, and came last. You might think that isn't too impressive, until you know that this is very much a "pay your dues" society. There were six candidates. The incumbent mayor won in the second round for his second term. Next time, he will have to stand down to let the runner-up this time win. So in 8 years time, my friend will be the runner up and 4 years after that he will get to be mayor and recoup all the money it will have cost him. You might wonder about the arithmetic of this, but believe me, this is what is going to happen. Anyway Adi also owns the Rustic, and has closed it for his friends tonight.
Why am I not with the Mayor of Mosna, I hear you ask.
Yesterday was the LAG meeting, followed by the official Mayoral inauguration dinner.
I think the best thing is to pull a veil over it. The City Hall this morning was shut, and, although I saw the Mayor, he assured me he had eaten a bad sarmale and was going home.
What of the potential results tonight?
The lady who sells me the morning Fornetti ( sort of mini sausage-rolls, but with cheese in them) has had hundreds of people telling her the results. So she has taken the average.
Holand 3 Romania 1. Italy 2 France 1.
You heard it here first.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Mayor's Barbeque
I can't remember if I mentioned that there have been elections in Romania for all local & regional council posts and councils.
The Mayor of Mosna was returned with95% of the votes cast.
He held a barbeque to celebrate and invited many friends and supporters, which, I'm delighted to say, included me.There was of course lots of delicious food ( a whole pig, a whole sheep, a whole cow for starters) as well as the usual cabbage salad, tomatoes and chips, fried in olive oil over a huge fire-pit.
The drink was wine, tuika ( a sort of lethal Romanian whisky - it never gets aged more than about 3 weeks) champagne ( a gift from the mayor of the twin town in Germany) and liqura di padura, a sort of fruit liquor which everyone says is very non-alcoholic, until you find out the basic recipe is to start with 50 litres of neat alcohol....
Anyway, as you can imagine it was all great fun, and anyone is invited - his opponents as well.
The Mayor gave me some of his election literature, which showed him and his slogan " Man of deeds not words" and on the back seven concrete policies ( not aspirations or waffle)
Afterwards I was invited back to his house for a coffee, and I was saying that I was impressed with his policies.
His wife disappeared for a moment and came back with two other flyers.
The first was from 8 years ago when he first stood for mayor. The flyer showed a younger mayor, but the same slogan. On the back were seven concrete policies ( things like central heating for the school, not targets which can be manipulated)
The second was from four years ago. Same thing, but on the back were 7 new policies, and the list of the previous 7. Beside each was one word. "Delivered".
I asked him why he didn't have the delivered message on this year's flyer.
" Obvious" he said." Everyone knows now what I say I do. I don't need to make the point any more. So the people know they will get the new sewage system I have been working on for 5 years within the next 4."
God I wish we could have politicians like that.
The Mayor of Mosna was returned with95% of the votes cast.
He held a barbeque to celebrate and invited many friends and supporters, which, I'm delighted to say, included me.There was of course lots of delicious food ( a whole pig, a whole sheep, a whole cow for starters) as well as the usual cabbage salad, tomatoes and chips, fried in olive oil over a huge fire-pit.
The drink was wine, tuika ( a sort of lethal Romanian whisky - it never gets aged more than about 3 weeks) champagne ( a gift from the mayor of the twin town in Germany) and liqura di padura, a sort of fruit liquor which everyone says is very non-alcoholic, until you find out the basic recipe is to start with 50 litres of neat alcohol....
Anyway, as you can imagine it was all great fun, and anyone is invited - his opponents as well.
The Mayor gave me some of his election literature, which showed him and his slogan " Man of deeds not words" and on the back seven concrete policies ( not aspirations or waffle)
Afterwards I was invited back to his house for a coffee, and I was saying that I was impressed with his policies.
His wife disappeared for a moment and came back with two other flyers.
The first was from 8 years ago when he first stood for mayor. The flyer showed a younger mayor, but the same slogan. On the back were seven concrete policies ( things like central heating for the school, not targets which can be manipulated)
The second was from four years ago. Same thing, but on the back were 7 new policies, and the list of the previous 7. Beside each was one word. "Delivered".
I asked him why he didn't have the delivered message on this year's flyer.
" Obvious" he said." Everyone knows now what I say I do. I don't need to make the point any more. So the people know they will get the new sewage system I have been working on for 5 years within the next 4."
God I wish we could have politicians like that.
42 revisited
I'm in Romania and have been exceptionally busy the last few days, so have had little or no time to keep up with the news. After all, its wind-down time in the UK, summers here...
And then David Davis blows everything out of the water.
In a way, my previous post referred to the mood of the country being anti-spin and anti-waffle. We want detail, we want clarity and we want principle.
DD couldn't have qualified any better if he had tried. It's an extraordinary act, one which, should DC stumble, will win him the leadership. I cannot see the campaign being anything other than a huge success, but then, you never know.
What it really has done has made the pundits in the papers look stupid - already.
DD was doing something insane, the Tories were going to be ripped apart etc etc - except " the People" don't seem to see it like that.
They appear to be saying - it's time we had principle again. And if this is what we can expect from the Tories then we will be with them.
After the wonderful Irish "No" vote, Gordon Brown's refusal of a referendum is not only visible for what it is ( he knows it would be lost) but also as yet another mendacious political trick, one which will rebound on Labour when it next issues a manifesto.
DD is asking for no more than GBP100 per person to donate on line. I personally will be donating. I hope everyone who would like to see the end of spin and believes in principle will do the same.
And then David Davis blows everything out of the water.
In a way, my previous post referred to the mood of the country being anti-spin and anti-waffle. We want detail, we want clarity and we want principle.
DD couldn't have qualified any better if he had tried. It's an extraordinary act, one which, should DC stumble, will win him the leadership. I cannot see the campaign being anything other than a huge success, but then, you never know.
What it really has done has made the pundits in the papers look stupid - already.
DD was doing something insane, the Tories were going to be ripped apart etc etc - except " the People" don't seem to see it like that.
They appear to be saying - it's time we had principle again. And if this is what we can expect from the Tories then we will be with them.
After the wonderful Irish "No" vote, Gordon Brown's refusal of a referendum is not only visible for what it is ( he knows it would be lost) but also as yet another mendacious political trick, one which will rebound on Labour when it next issues a manifesto.
DD is asking for no more than GBP100 per person to donate on line. I personally will be donating. I hope everyone who would like to see the end of spin and believes in principle will do the same.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
42
In case you missed it, Andrew Marr this morning asked Jacqui Smith ( she of the Home Secretarial persuasion) " How did you fix on 42 days?"
She waffled on for a bit, but entirely missed the point. As readers of HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy will know, 42 is the answer to everything. You just have to figure out what the question is.
But the interesting thing was the the Government spin machine had it that " Jacqui" ( who spells like that?) had done a wonderful job of bringing the Labour rebels to heel.
Only it now appears this isn't true.
Mrs. Thatcher was at her son's party the other evening and was talking about the present mood in the country.
" Oh, yes. I sense the people no longer want spin. Politicians are going to have to get into extreme detail to carry people with them on matters."
She has more understanding even now of " the people" that Gordon Brown has of his chewed finger nails.
She waffled on for a bit, but entirely missed the point. As readers of HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy will know, 42 is the answer to everything. You just have to figure out what the question is.
But the interesting thing was the the Government spin machine had it that " Jacqui" ( who spells like that?) had done a wonderful job of bringing the Labour rebels to heel.
Only it now appears this isn't true.
Mrs. Thatcher was at her son's party the other evening and was talking about the present mood in the country.
" Oh, yes. I sense the people no longer want spin. Politicians are going to have to get into extreme detail to carry people with them on matters."
She has more understanding even now of " the people" that Gordon Brown has of his chewed finger nails.
Friday night
Mrs. Lear and I together with two friends went to the new " happening"/ " show" at SWG3 which was fine if a little strange. I fully accept I am the wrong age.
Whilst wandering about and looking at a number of different things, I chanced across some photographs which had been taken inside Glasgow City Chambers. The building itself is magnificent inside, especially the entrance hall and staircase, which had been used as the backdrop for the photos. There were various outlandish females draped around the place , but I was studying the background and the excellent photographic work that had gone into the photographs themselves.
" Ah" said a chap who sidled up to me " Admiring the divine ChengWa I see."
" No, actually I'm admiring the City Halls."
" Ah. You are clearly elegantly aged."
The emphasis was on the "ag-ed"
Whilst wandering about and looking at a number of different things, I chanced across some photographs which had been taken inside Glasgow City Chambers. The building itself is magnificent inside, especially the entrance hall and staircase, which had been used as the backdrop for the photos. There were various outlandish females draped around the place , but I was studying the background and the excellent photographic work that had gone into the photographs themselves.
" Ah" said a chap who sidled up to me " Admiring the divine ChengWa I see."
" No, actually I'm admiring the City Halls."
" Ah. You are clearly elegantly aged."
The emphasis was on the "ag-ed"
Thursday, June 05, 2008
The REAL economy
Just back from Birmingham, where all the hotels are full of people on life awareness courses. Sigh. That's going to keep the Chinese and the Indians at bay.
Anyway, on my way back up, I stopped off at a pub in Cheshire somewhere. More a gastropub with a restaurant, and I was there at about 1:30. I was the only person there.
When I asked the barman why it was so quiet ( I had seen several others shuts round about) he said it had been like this since just after New Year. They were all right as they had quite a good trade at the weekends, but 7 or 8 other pubs in the area had closed. They used to have a weekly lunchtime trade ( not great but enough to pay for itself and contribute a bit towards the bottom line) but that was all gone.
" There's no money around, of course. It used to cost me £70 to fill up my car last November. It's now £92."
There you have it.
Anyway, on my way back up, I stopped off at a pub in Cheshire somewhere. More a gastropub with a restaurant, and I was there at about 1:30. I was the only person there.
When I asked the barman why it was so quiet ( I had seen several others shuts round about) he said it had been like this since just after New Year. They were all right as they had quite a good trade at the weekends, but 7 or 8 other pubs in the area had closed. They used to have a weekly lunchtime trade ( not great but enough to pay for itself and contribute a bit towards the bottom line) but that was all gone.
" There's no money around, of course. It used to cost me £70 to fill up my car last November. It's now £92."
There you have it.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Banking
I was talking to a private banking team today.
The senior man said " I'm sorry can I pass you on to my number 2 - I've got lots of my accounts overdrawn today and I need to start phoning round."
Just bear in mind to get this private banker you have to be earning at least £100,000 pa or have assets ( not including your house) well in excess of £500,000. So lots of " rich" people are already in trouble on the third day of the month.
The number two - who sounded very cheerful - seemed to be speaking with exclamation marks at the end of each sentence " Hello! How nice to speak to you!...YES! I'll do that right away!!" I remarked that she seemed very cheerful, she laughed." Ha ha! It's more like hysteria!"
So you have been warned.
The senior man said " I'm sorry can I pass you on to my number 2 - I've got lots of my accounts overdrawn today and I need to start phoning round."
Just bear in mind to get this private banker you have to be earning at least £100,000 pa or have assets ( not including your house) well in excess of £500,000. So lots of " rich" people are already in trouble on the third day of the month.
The number two - who sounded very cheerful - seemed to be speaking with exclamation marks at the end of each sentence " Hello! How nice to speak to you!...YES! I'll do that right away!!" I remarked that she seemed very cheerful, she laughed." Ha ha! It's more like hysteria!"
So you have been warned.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Leadership & Gordon Brown
Todays report that GB will NOT be facing his critics regarding the 42 day detention debacle only underlines his lack of leadership ( and, coincidentally, anything smacking of courage)
I was reading an article in The Marketer about leadership.
DOs:
Be approachable. Be seen as part of a team.
Allow for autonomy. Set objectives, let your people get on with achieving them.
Constantly develop yourself, and make sure you are responsible for developing other leaders.
Use coaching so people take responsibility for their own problems, freeing your time to lead.
Set the tone. Attitudes are infectious.
Stimulate debate and new ideas.
I think we can all agree he fails miserably on every one of these points. I particularly agree with "Set the tone". Brown's is uniformly grim.
DON'TS
Don't dither. The best leaders are decisive.
Don't forget to be adaptable. New challenges may mean different thinking.
Don't forget you can delegate responsibility, but not overall accountability.
Don't be afraid to admit you don't like leading.Promoting bad leaders can be disastrous for business.
And for political parties too.
I was reading an article in The Marketer about leadership.
DOs:
Be approachable. Be seen as part of a team.
Allow for autonomy. Set objectives, let your people get on with achieving them.
Constantly develop yourself, and make sure you are responsible for developing other leaders.
Use coaching so people take responsibility for their own problems, freeing your time to lead.
Set the tone. Attitudes are infectious.
Stimulate debate and new ideas.
I think we can all agree he fails miserably on every one of these points. I particularly agree with "Set the tone". Brown's is uniformly grim.
DON'TS
Don't dither. The best leaders are decisive.
Don't forget to be adaptable. New challenges may mean different thinking.
Don't forget you can delegate responsibility, but not overall accountability.
Don't be afraid to admit you don't like leading.Promoting bad leaders can be disastrous for business.
And for political parties too.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Virtual Assistant
I've begun using a Virtual Assistant.
It's cheap, reliable and you don't have to bother about it being ill, pregnant, hungover or stroppy.
I thoroughly recommend it.
It's cheap, reliable and you don't have to bother about it being ill, pregnant, hungover or stroppy.
I thoroughly recommend it.
Manners
Mrs. Lear was much exercised this morning.
Two mothers of newly born babies had not replied with a thank you letter ( or a text or an email) for the gifts that had been sent.
One is the wife of her godson.
The other the daughter of one of her best friends.
I'm old fashioned, but a written thank you letter still brings pleasure to many people - especially we nearly-pensioners.
Of course,people are much more ungrateful nowadays for things than they used to be. We were with some friends recently whose daughter had received gifts for the birth of her son.
She took them all back and changed them.
Still, manners maketh man.
And in this case, might end up getting you written back into the will.
Two mothers of newly born babies had not replied with a thank you letter ( or a text or an email) for the gifts that had been sent.
One is the wife of her godson.
The other the daughter of one of her best friends.
I'm old fashioned, but a written thank you letter still brings pleasure to many people - especially we nearly-pensioners.
Of course,people are much more ungrateful nowadays for things than they used to be. We were with some friends recently whose daughter had received gifts for the birth of her son.
She took them all back and changed them.
Still, manners maketh man.
And in this case, might end up getting you written back into the will.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Times are tough
Mrs. Lear was going to a function last night. She left the house to meet up with her friend on the corner of the road.
Her friend phoned me and asked if Mrs. Lear was wearing her pink shoes. I said I had no idea.
Her friend then said. " Well we're going to be standing on the corner and it would be terrible if we were both wearing pink shoes."
" I had no idea, " says I " that things were so bad that two families in the most affluent part of Glasgow have to send out their womenfolk to stand on street corners.
And I had no idea pink shoes were required for such an enterprise."
Mrs. Lear's friend assured me they were akin to the red lights above certain doorways......
Her friend phoned me and asked if Mrs. Lear was wearing her pink shoes. I said I had no idea.
Her friend then said. " Well we're going to be standing on the corner and it would be terrible if we were both wearing pink shoes."
" I had no idea, " says I " that things were so bad that two families in the most affluent part of Glasgow have to send out their womenfolk to stand on street corners.
And I had no idea pink shoes were required for such an enterprise."
Mrs. Lear's friend assured me they were akin to the red lights above certain doorways......
Reacquaintance
I got an email from a man who did some work for me a few years ago - quite successfully until it became too expensive for the project and he had to go.
He has set up a new business on his own in the Internet field ( which seems to be the only area worth visiting nowadays - I don't see many people setting up machine shops or foundries).
I had a long conversation with him about our own domain business, and we are to meet in a couple of weeks time.
For a period of I had really enjoyed his company, and the intellectual stimulus his persona gave me. Unfortunately, at that time he was working for someone else who insisted on certain criteria, which, when applied to the business he and I were trying to get started, meant there was no point.
Now he's on his own, so I hope the market will decide the price - which varies from business to business.
I would compare this with how Doctors operated before the NHS started in 1947. Richer patients paid more or lots, poorer patients a little or virtually nothing. One of the capitalist lessons the East has learned well is about the marginal cost of production, both in services and in hard goods.
One of the more interesting jobs in his early life was when he worked for Mossad. He was an intelligence officer working in Jerusalem, who spent much of his time trying to persuade his older senior officers not to call in more air strikes. He also wanted the Palestinians to have a proper economy with jobs, which would mean lots of young men would not be hanging around being bored - and deciding to throw a few bombs at Israelis.He eventually got fired for not being hard-line enough ( and helping a Palestinian family), and left Israel shortly thereafter.
But what strikes me about him is that he has had to reinvent his life at least four or five times. His family escaped to South Africa from Zimbabwe when he was young, taking virtually nothing with them. He had to leave South Africa when he turned 18. He left Israel in his late 20s, and has had to change his career direction three times in the UK since. What it has done is make him resilient, open-minded and forward looking.
I was contrasting this with many of the people who remain in one place all their lives, doing the same thing, who turn 60 and then go into a decline. When they stop work, they seem to lose all interest in what's happening around them.
I know my reacquainted friend will never be like that.
He has set up a new business on his own in the Internet field ( which seems to be the only area worth visiting nowadays - I don't see many people setting up machine shops or foundries).
I had a long conversation with him about our own domain business, and we are to meet in a couple of weeks time.
For a period of I had really enjoyed his company, and the intellectual stimulus his persona gave me. Unfortunately, at that time he was working for someone else who insisted on certain criteria, which, when applied to the business he and I were trying to get started, meant there was no point.
Now he's on his own, so I hope the market will decide the price - which varies from business to business.
I would compare this with how Doctors operated before the NHS started in 1947. Richer patients paid more or lots, poorer patients a little or virtually nothing. One of the capitalist lessons the East has learned well is about the marginal cost of production, both in services and in hard goods.
One of the more interesting jobs in his early life was when he worked for Mossad. He was an intelligence officer working in Jerusalem, who spent much of his time trying to persuade his older senior officers not to call in more air strikes. He also wanted the Palestinians to have a proper economy with jobs, which would mean lots of young men would not be hanging around being bored - and deciding to throw a few bombs at Israelis.He eventually got fired for not being hard-line enough ( and helping a Palestinian family), and left Israel shortly thereafter.
But what strikes me about him is that he has had to reinvent his life at least four or five times. His family escaped to South Africa from Zimbabwe when he was young, taking virtually nothing with them. He had to leave South Africa when he turned 18. He left Israel in his late 20s, and has had to change his career direction three times in the UK since. What it has done is make him resilient, open-minded and forward looking.
I was contrasting this with many of the people who remain in one place all their lives, doing the same thing, who turn 60 and then go into a decline. When they stop work, they seem to lose all interest in what's happening around them.
I know my reacquainted friend will never be like that.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Mlle Tautou & the gigolo
I went to see the new Tautou film on Tuesday. It was charming with lots of lovely scenes set in lovely hotels in the South of France, and the acting was perfectly acceptable, even though the tale was a little obvious.
Irene, played by Tautou, was a girl working her way through rich men, and cutting a long story short, the person she eventually comes to love starts out as a waiter and ends up a gigolo.
That set me thinking. Gigolo may be a pejorative word, but nothing like as bad as prostitute, which is what Irene would - I suppose - strictly be.
Perhaps there ought to be an in-between word. We have mistress but that generally has an element of the man being married and having " a bit on the side".
Perhaps a gigolette would do.
I could see men using it.
But I think women would be rather like Ma Boswell. " She's a TAART!"
Irene, played by Tautou, was a girl working her way through rich men, and cutting a long story short, the person she eventually comes to love starts out as a waiter and ends up a gigolo.
That set me thinking. Gigolo may be a pejorative word, but nothing like as bad as prostitute, which is what Irene would - I suppose - strictly be.
Perhaps there ought to be an in-between word. We have mistress but that generally has an element of the man being married and having " a bit on the side".
Perhaps a gigolette would do.
I could see men using it.
But I think women would be rather like Ma Boswell. " She's a TAART!"
Monday, May 26, 2008
O Tempora! O Mores! or how Brown and Darling can't even give out money they're supposed to.
Quite by chance I came across a story that said that lots of the Yorkshire ( and other) victims of last summer's floods still hadn't had any Government compensation - which was promised at the time . Jackie Ashley brought it up today in her ridiculous piece ( none of the NuLab people get it at all.) when she said Brown was great over the floods ( er, not really). Anyway, I came across this from www.arrse.co.uk ( website of what used to be B.A.O.R.)
"What’s basically happened is that the UK was recently awarded Euro 162 million (£110 million) from the EU Solidarity Fund to help the flood victims in Yorkshire whose gaffs were made uninhabitable by the floods about a year ago. However, the UK gobment only plans to pay out £31 million and to keep the rest to help plug the holes in the national budget.Because the UK is a net payer into the EU, but has to forgo many of the subsidies handed out to France, Spain etc, Maggie Thatcher negotiated a rebate. Since 1984, something like EUR 69 billion has been paid back to the UK as a result. This rebate is generally reduced by normal EU subsidies. And this is where Brown the Clown and that Darling geezer have done a bit of clever bookkeeping, since the money for the flood victims is regarded as tantamount to a subsidy. So they reckon that two-thirds of the sum from the Solidarity Fund would have accrued to them anyway in the form of the rebate, and they’re also hanging onto a further £19 million, which would have been the UK contribution to the financial aid.Nothing is forcing them to do this, although they claim that EU financial regulations are to blame – they’re not! Brown the Clown and the fella with the Groucho Marx eyebrows are the snide, dishonest culprits.I can’t find anything in English about this, so any ARRSErs who’re better at googling than me (which probably includes just about everybody) will certainly have more luck. In the meantime, here’s the story in German from STERN: www.stern.de/politik/a...21429.html "
Oh, and in case you've forgotten, Blair, egged on by Brown ( although it was spun differently) handed back part of the rebate last year.
Treasonous Trash.
"What’s basically happened is that the UK was recently awarded Euro 162 million (£110 million) from the EU Solidarity Fund to help the flood victims in Yorkshire whose gaffs were made uninhabitable by the floods about a year ago. However, the UK gobment only plans to pay out £31 million and to keep the rest to help plug the holes in the national budget.Because the UK is a net payer into the EU, but has to forgo many of the subsidies handed out to France, Spain etc, Maggie Thatcher negotiated a rebate. Since 1984, something like EUR 69 billion has been paid back to the UK as a result. This rebate is generally reduced by normal EU subsidies. And this is where Brown the Clown and that Darling geezer have done a bit of clever bookkeeping, since the money for the flood victims is regarded as tantamount to a subsidy. So they reckon that two-thirds of the sum from the Solidarity Fund would have accrued to them anyway in the form of the rebate, and they’re also hanging onto a further £19 million, which would have been the UK contribution to the financial aid.Nothing is forcing them to do this, although they claim that EU financial regulations are to blame – they’re not! Brown the Clown and the fella with the Groucho Marx eyebrows are the snide, dishonest culprits.I can’t find anything in English about this, so any ARRSErs who’re better at googling than me (which probably includes just about everybody) will certainly have more luck. In the meantime, here’s the story in German from STERN: www.stern.de/politik/a...21429.html "
Oh, and in case you've forgotten, Blair, egged on by Brown ( although it was spun differently) handed back part of the rebate last year.
Treasonous Trash.
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."
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.)
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.)
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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."
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."
Saturday, May 24, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Friday, May 23, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, May 19, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, May 16, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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.
" 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.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
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"
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"
Thursday, May 08, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, May 05, 2008
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.
"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.
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