Classical Brits

Decided last night to watch the Classical Brits 2009 as there wasn't anything else on worth watching.

Oh dear!

Nothing wrong with the actual awards thmselves which, from the nominations I could see, went to decent singers/composers/conductors. The dire bit was the between award entertainment.

Item 1) Tyrell. Nice enought girl. Actually saw her on the reality show that found her and had a good voice. She's been "marketed". She sang a song. basically lyrics over The Blue Danube Waltz, which of course Strauss hadn't lyricised, whilst she wa backed bysome dancers doing faux ballet without getting anywhere nearer than you or I might if we jumped about a bit with our arms out and kicking.

Item 2) Placido Domingo & Opera Barbie (TM Gert {just in case she reads this]) Placido, what are you doing, you don't need to perform with Katherine Jenkins just because someone tells you she's popular. You are light years in advance of her and your help and support would probably be much better used to support an actual opera singer not someone who calls herself that even though she has never sung in an opera.

Item 3) Alison Bolsom. Young trumpet player who can ctually do what she is meant to do particularly well. Someone should have told her though that her dress didn't do her any favours. Blonde, nice figure, but clingy dresses dont work if you want to move the way Alison does in performance.

Item 4) The Priests. It would be easy to diss them but they are genuine. They are Priests and they sing religious music. Not quite my cup of tea but at least they aren't covering Take That tunes or something. It would have bee nice if they were allowed to sing something other than Ave Maria though.

Item 5) Herbie Hancock & Lang Lang. Intersting mix. They played Gershwins Rhapsody in Blue. Lang Lang, who is a brilliant pianist looked a bit out of sorts but Herbie Hancock was a revelation. So well known for his popular music that, even though this wasn't what you'd call straight classical, he was much better than I would have thought as most "crossover acts" whichever direction tend not quite to work but he's on the button.

Item 6) Jonas Baufmann? I missed his name because I slipped out of the room for a couple of minutes. Good singer but the choice of Donna e mobile was pandering to lowest common denominator.

Item 7) Opera Barbie. Again! If she sang "send your daughter to the slaughter" it wouldn't make her a heavy metal artist!

Item 8) Jose Carreras. Getting the lifetime achievement award and then performing. He has sung 60 full operas and recorded 50 of them. There Katherine, that's an opera singer. He was also described as singing from The Classical repertoire. Now, if KJ claimed herself as doing that then perhaps she wouldn't get such "bad press" from within the opera world. Jose also managed to get some feeling into his piece where KJ doesn't. Maybe that's why she doesn't do opera. You need to act and be expressive as well as singing.

So, on reflection, good in parts. Generally, good meant the real classical musicians and the rest were there to entice a public who would be unlikely to watch anyway. Still, perhaps next year "The hairy Angel" will top the bill. I'm sure Simon Cowell would be pleased to do for classical music what he's done for pop, as long as he's paid enough.

Driving Miss Lillibet

One of the things about living on a main arterial road into Central London is that we quite often have outriders stopping traffic and letting some VIP through Sometimes I have soft fruit in the car in case it's Gordon Brown but mainly it's a President or Prime Minister of a country we are presently trying to woo. Occasionally though it's a membe of The Royal Family.

As I'm a Royalist I'm quite pleased to see them but especially if it's the Queen. And yesterday it was, on her way to Kew Gardens to celebrate the 250th anniversary. I'v seen her a few times before in the Royal Queenmobile but yesterday was the first time I'd seen her looking so happy. Maybe she was looking forward to the visit, maybe Prince Philip had just cracked some joke sat next to her, maybe she was just feeling happy in the pink outfit with matching hat she was wearing?

A couple of minutes delay and we were off. And for once I didn't ming being delayed because it was HM and I'd much rather that then be delayed as normal by idiots who don't know how to negotiate a set of traffic lights with a filter!

Ungrateful gratitude.

I recently auditioned for a lead role in Gilbert & Sullivan's Patience. I got one, but not the one I was after. It's a fine line between being fed up 'cos I didn't get the part I really wanted and being grateful I at least got a lead role even if it's a lesser one.

Bees are Buzzing

Well done The Bees

It's a Miracle.

There will be more news shortly but someone I know has opened a can of prunes and has found a "siamese prune". Is this the first case of conjoined prunes known to man? Tomorrow I shall take pictures and we may attempt to seperate them. Will there be a conjoined stone? Will both halves survive?

Try not to get over excited with the anticipation!

Back of Beyond

Just to let you know I'm in Wales. North Wales. Bloody big hill behind the house North Wales. Bloody big hill behind the house that stops any mobile signal for calls or internet access North Wales.

Back to civilisation at the weekend.

Gone but not forgotten.

I managed to resist the urge to comment about Jade Goody's death until today. I ignored the hourly bulletins on the stste of her health. I've managed to avoid the posts on even the Screwfix forums, though why big butch builders are so distressed lord knows. But the new edition of OK is the straw that breaks the Kennamatics back.

Apart from fronting it in black as a sign of mourning, the head caption is " a nation mourns for it's brightest star".

Good grief. (Or bad grief depending on your outlook).

If all the people who are sending letters of condolence, wringing their hands in despair at the loss of someone they didn't know and planning to attend the "private funeral" for which the location has been leaked well in advance so crowds of mourners turn up, I have an idea.

Instead of spending your life worrying about someone who is famous for being famous not being famous any more, why not offer your services to a hospice or hospital to visit patients who are dying of cancer and help actual real people you can make a difference to. Or work for a cancer charity to raise money to help future generations. But then, that's really not what your grieving is about, it's being part of something you see as exciting. Then again, when was reality tv ever meant to put you in touch with reality?

A view with a room.

Have had a quick look at Googles new Street Level facility, (if that's what it's called).

It would just be of passing interest to me except for one thing. If I am going out to see someone's house for shutters, or windows or other stuff for that matter, I can see the house in advance. This gives me the chance to think about it before turning up which in turn means I will be able to give the potential client a better service as I've already "seen" the house.

I shall also check what some of my installations look like where I don't have photos.

Then I can also check roads to decide whether to put leaflets there rather than driving round an area.

Let's hope not too many people delete their properties from view.

Laurel & Hardy!

Spent the last three weeks installing shutters at a house in Wimbledon, which is why I've been so quiet. I don't think I'm cut out for real work!

It all went well except for when my colleague was at the top of the tower scaffold about to hang a shutter. He tipped the shutter the wrong way and the hinge, which at that point is just pushed into it's holder, traced a graceful arc as it descended from top floor height to the top of my head. Ouch! Still, no damage done, the hinge was perfectly fine and usable.

Vocation Vocation Vocation

So the government have decided to fast track teacher training. Many of the present crop of NQTs (Newly Qualified Teachers) that turn up at M's school aren't much good in practical terms. They've been trained in theory but in practice they flounder. Now, the new course is meant to be for high flyers, although it's pretty obvious from part of the announcement that it's seen as a way of getting those made redundant back in to work quickly.

Maybe people don't mind if teachers are underprepared to teach. It's a lot harder than it looks though. But think if the government wanted to fast track doctors? Would you want to go to a doctor who 6 months earlier had been a city trader and had been fast-tracked or someone who had spent the full term training?

The Good Life

I gret you from a pub somewhere near Yeovil where I'm sipping a pint of cider and reading blogs. A reward for driving 250 mile round trip for 20 minutes work.

Banking on disaster

So LloydsTSB have announced the expected losses at HBOS and also mentioned their own profits dropped.

Last week I received a letter from by "Relationship Manager", whatever that is meant to make me feel, saying the bank is concerned to see my turnover has dropped. They also wanted to know if they could do anything to help.

So I ring the woman I am having this relationship with and mentioned that external shutter sales tend to be a bit seasonal. Why does no-one buy there beloved a set of shutters for Christmas? They'd thank you for it, or if not, I would. I also told her the good news that I'd won the big contract down in Yeovil and what potential that gives the company. I also mentioned that it would be a help for the company in these present economic times if we could have an overdraft for the next 8 weeks of £5000.

She immediately decided the maximum should be £3600. So off she runs to do credit checks etc.

I heard on Friday, dspite the fact that there is a confirmed order from a major Plc which they have seen, an agreement to personal guarantees form me and the other director, who only has a 15% mortgage on a £250k property, and with good credit references coming back, they have decided not to give us the overdraft at this time.

They are willing to consider it again in a few weeks time when the cashflow has picked up, i.e. when we have plenty of money.

Well I'm glad to hear that I am such a bad risk that a bank who bought a £10bn loss, lost 80% of it's profits and 40% of it's share price in one day, is being proppped up by the tax payer and will have to use the governments debt guaratnee scheme, feel I'm the one not to be trusted.

Up On The Roof

Well, not quite, but I've spent most of this week just below the eaves fitting window shutters in Wimbledon.

And now I've just Twittered in a fit of new technologicality or something similar.

When Jargon Goes Wrong

I've just won a contract with a housing association. I was looking at their website and in the last year they have built 800 affordable houses and 100 non-affordable houses!

Non-affordable? They must be £45million per sq inch or something otherwise The Sultan of Brunei could technically afford it.

I know what they mean but to anyone who doesn't understand government speak they must wonder why any builder builds houses no-one can afford to buy.

CPS

Yesterday, we had one of the many legal cases that are surrounding us, and to which I keep alluding. This one was specifically about a threatening message one of Marjs daughters received as part of this series of events. It had been sent through Facebook so the charge was one of "Sending A Message by Electronic Means in Order to Cause Distress or Anxiety".

Firstly, we did win, but considering the CPS had taken on the case and were prosecuting the perputrator, they actually came to court without a hardcopy of the message or the actul correct wording. Luckily, or actually by good planning, we had all our paperwork with us and were therefore able, to the Distric Judges relief, able to supply the neccessary evidence.

How do the CPS get themselves in a situation where they go into court without the evidence? If I was "The Crown", I should want to know!

January Jaunt

Tomorrow morning, whilst it's still dark, I'm heading for St Pancras and the Eurostar to Brussels, then onwards to Bruges for three days of revelry.

Chocolate and Stella Artois will probably high on the list of purchases!

Enjoy whatever you do to herald in 2009.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS

but really, you should be doing more exciting things than visiting here.

Marketing - Men & Women

At present, Marj has a new morning routine.

Get up - brush hair - put "hair putty"? into hair to give it that "just got up" look.

Mine.

Get up - Don't brush hair.

We both achieve the same result but I don't spend copious amounts of money on product.

Of course, if it came with buttons to press and flashing lights I probably would.

Open All Hours

Saw a great leaflet for a Take-away food place today.

Open 8pm till 4am, 24/7!

Nope, that would be 8/7 but top marks for trying.

Watching the Detectives.

I may have mantioned before that I'm somewhat in agreement with Jeremy Clarkson that if you have been burgled, the police can't get you for any motoring offences until they've solved your crime first. If only!

Certainly in London, and I suspect most other places in the UK, if you get burgled you can forget any idea of the perputrators being caught. Last time we were burgled they took Marjs' car. After 6 months the police had failed to find it, despite the fact it was sat on a public road unmoving since the day it was taken. It was eventually discovered by The DVLA 48 hours after the tax ran out which explains a great deal about the art of "detection" around here these days.

Once upon a time the glamorous "copper" was The Detective. He would be faced with a crime and would gnaw away at the details until, using little more that his "Coppers Nose" and the odd hunch, he would track down and arrest the guilty party. Now, I suspect, little real Detection goes on. I still can't go into details about a case we're involved with as it is still sub-judice, but I can tell you that at the original incident, Police failed to find any witnesses whereas we were able to give them 6 seperate names and adresses within 48 hours by going out and asking a few questions. I wonder how Sherlock Holmes would have operated these days......

WATSON: So Holmes, what crime did you solve today.

HOLMES: Ah, My dear Watson, I like to think of it as The Sound of The Baskervilles.

WATSON: Why, what do you mean?

HOLMES: I was walking along to my local opium den when I spotted a road with, and be prepared for a terrible shock Watson, no speed camera for almost 400 yeards!

(Watson screams, and lies down upon the chaise longue with an attack of the vapours.)

HOLMES: Almost immediately I recognised the engine sound of a 1996 Ford Orion with the note pitched perfectly on D#. As you may well know, at 30 mph the engine should have been no higher than C#! I immediately threw myself in front of the car which, upon it's finally stopping some 15 feet after it had run me over, I bound to the drivers door and arrested it's owner, a Mr J Baskerville, for driving at 34mph in a 30 mph zone. I hied both myself and the miscreant straight to Scotland Yard and thus another dangerous criminal has been dealt the severe punishment of 3 points on his licence and a £50 fine. Indeed Watson, fetch me my Stradivarius violin and I shall re-enact the very notation that caused me to apprehend the aformentioned felon.

WATSON: I'm sorry Holmes, during your abscence you were burgled.

HOLMES: Oh, Bugger!

Flu-ness

I have been laid up with flu. Quite useful though as I've discovered that flu stops you worrying about other stuff as your body puts all it's energy into coughing and sweating.

Not sure how I got it though. I know of nobody else who has it or shown symptoms. In fact, the only contact with flu I have had is by listening to The Archers every day. I think I've caught flu via the airwaves.

Ivor the Engine runs out of steam.

Sad news. The death of Oliver Postgate

As a child, Ivor the Engine was a favourite programme, along with Gerry Andersons Supercar. As an adult I finally got into The Clangers. I found the spoken bit at the beginning of ech episode, musing on life on other planets rather moving.

Nocturnal Greetings

I greet you, dear reader, at ten to one in the morning.

It's not that I can't sleep, I wish I was in bed this very minute, but I'm about to take a trip. To Heathrow.

Now, if this was half as good a blog as I wish it was, I would then be boarding a plane to climb to the top of Machu Pichu or whatever it's called. Instead I am going to Heathrow to pick up my dad and step-mum as they return from Cyprus where they have been enjoying temperatures between 22 and 32 degrees over the last three weeks. I think they may find the UK a little chilly at the moment!

Their plane was due 8:45 this last evening but has been getting steadily later until it's ETA is now 01:36. By the time they've trundled through customs/passport control/sheep dip, then dropped me back home, I'll not see my bed much before 3am. Better than them though as they are driving straight from here to Norfolk, so it'll be breakfast time when they reach home.

I always start my day with a reading of those blogs I cannot live without, but there'll be no need for you to rush to post tomorrow, I don't suppose I'll be reading much before mid-day.

Let the Show Begin

Well, thst's all the rehearsing done. 5 performances over the next 4 days. Methinks I'm going to be pretty knackered by Sunday.

Just a few things to do:

Try and learn the words to Act 2
Apply make-up in a way that doesn't make me look like Julian Clary
Kepp tights pulled up so I don't look like Nora Batty

Ah, the smell of the crowd, the roar of the greasepaint!

Remembrance

Come this day annually I tend to remember my maternal grandfather who was wounded on The Somme and lived till 1965 with a metal plate in his head following a shrapnel wound and breathing difficulties after a mustard gas attack.

A relative I tend to overlook is my Great Uncle Sam on my fathers side, who didn't make it.

Thanks to The Commonwealth War Graves Commission he, and many thousand others, are resting and remembered.

And for those who don't normally read Diamond Geezer, todays post is particularly fine.

Incredibly busy painting Gondoliers poles. No, I haven't moved to Venice, it's because next week I'm performing this and I've roped myself into providing props!

Anastacia est mort

It is with regret I announce the passing of Anastacia, spinster hamster of this parish. She died yesterday in the night, which of course is our day, of unknown causes.

She is today lying in state at the family home where a short burial and commemmoration service will take place some time around 6 this evening.

The family have requested no sunflower seeds.

Blackpool Beware

Come Friday it's the annual trip to Blackpool!

I would say, "Lock Up Your Daughters", but at my age it's more, lock up your mothers, or if you're a particularly young blogger, your Grandmothers!

Better Than You

One of the things that irritates me, (OMG, not another! I hear you cry!!) is people who park where they shouldn't. But even more specifically than parking in disabled spaces or on double yellow lines.

My real bugbear is at our local Tescos. At the end of each row of parking lanes is a hatched area. This helps people move from row to row without having to be in the roadway. Nearly every day there is someone parked in one of them. And it's nearly always a Merc driver. It doesn't have to be a busy day, there are usually plenty of spaces within two rows or so, but they seem unable to use the same spaces the rest of us park in with consumate ease.

Yesterday however, they excelled themselves. Five of the hatched boxes were occupied. Two by Mercs, two by BMWs and one by a land rover. Strange that, all five cars are "upmarket". They obviously feel the need to prove they are above other mere drivers in common cars by parking in "special" spaces. Or of course, all the disabled spaces may have ben full which is where they normally head to first!

I've heard the excuse about needing more door room for getting out but most of the time you are only 5 rows from the main entrance and there are no other cars there, so even if you do think that is an excuse, it gets shot to pieces. It's just rudeness.

Cat's In The Cradle

I hear via my stepmum that her and my father are taking a trip to Cyprus, as they do each year, but this is likely to be the last. His health is deteriorating at a reasonable pace and flights and manoverability are beginning to be a problem.

This leads me on to having to think about the los of my father, not imminently, but in a forseeable future. The loss of my mother, when it should happen, will be devastating to me. I find it hard even to contemplate such an event. But as I am sure I have blogged previously, my father and I aren't particularly close. A situation and relationship best summed up in the lyrics of Harry Chapin's song referred to in the title of this post, although I suspect that it is unfair on my father.

I can't see how I will react. I'll be sad, but then I was sad when one of my oldest friends father died. I just can't see me feeling worsed than that. I guess I'll have to wait and see.

C'Mon Lewis

Well, despite the sledging by his opponents, Lewis Hamilton got his 10 points for this race. Good on him. Ferrari are no doubt going to do their Man Utd act and claim how there were a number of incidents which hapened, all of which went against them. And Massa managed a wonderful second place when his team mate managed to slow down enought for him to finally catch up and overtake. And I thought team orders had been outlawed.

Lewis just has to make sure he gets pole position as I suspect if he isn't in front there will be manouvers to block him in, or even worse, someone will contrive to have a bump with him just to take him out.

Not that I'm cynical of course.

Dismissal Downside

One of the worst bit's of running your own company is having to sack people, although in my case it's more just not using someone again as they are legally a sub-contractor.

I have someone who I have used a few times, is damned good at what he does, but unfortunately it would appear has light fingers.

A laptop went missing from a job he was working on. He was sort of in the frame but so were too many other people. Now news reaches me that would boost him up to 95% certain to have done it. He won't admit it of course, as he's not admitted to some other stuff on another job being down to him, which it was, bang to rights. I really don't want it to be him as I want to help him get established in his own right as he hasn't had the easiest life up until now, but he has to help himself. And not just to other peoples goods!

It's sad, and I'll have to discuss it with Marj as she is co-director, but I think the writings on the wall for him.

And as this is my blog and thus everything has to be about me, I now have to find someone else who can do the work I had lined up for him and that isn't going to be easy.

When is a meeting not a meeting?

I was in Sainsburys this morning when there was a staff announcement....

Could all department managers go to,,,,,, for this mornings huddle.

A morning huddle?

I assume this is a meeting where everyone stands round and just gets told the orders of the day. Fair enough. But letting your customers know you are having " a huddle" just makes you sound like a bunch of idiots.

Of course, it could be worse, I might have misheard and they were all off for their morning cuddle!!!!

New Technology - Ancient User

I have a Tom Tom. A navigation system rather than a small drum. And damned useful it has been over the year I've been using it. So to celebrate it's first birthday, in addition to the speed safety camera package I've also taken the traffic package.

I have a bluetooth phone, and it can find the tom tom when it trawls the ether looking for something. All I have to do is to enter the correct code. But which code? The tomtom device code doesn't seem to do the trick whatever form I enter it in, so is it a differnt code, like a pin number, that came with it. Or is it some code that my phone came with that needs to be entered although that wasn't the case with my handsfree earpiece.

The answer is probably quite straightforward but I seem to be in a position where I start ringing the helplines at £4000 per second or whatever they cost, and probably with someone on the other end who doesn't speak english that well.

I might fiddle with it a bit more first. I hate ringing helplines.

Great Myths of my Childhood

1) That the bump in the tarmac over the bolts that held down a bench in our school playground were in fact an earthquake.

2) The handles on the front of steam locomotives that held the door shut were in fact the hands of a clock.

3) Ladies got pregnant by drinking wee.

4) Robert Wiles mum was 116 years old.

I was only about 6-7 at the time though!

View to a Killing

I've done a few market research interviews over the last few years for which you get paid a little and have been signed up to a new agency. This thursday I'm doing an hour interview for which I get paid £40.00.

Now, if only I could get 5 of those a day for a whole year I'd be quite happy!

Celebrity Cancer.

News came out over the wekend that Wendy Richards has cancer. Not a big fan but sorry to hear that, it's been a battle for a time for her over the last few years. I don't know whether it became public knowledge because she brought it up in an interview or through answering a question from the press. Hopefully, there'll be little else about it and she can get on with her plans in private and with some dignity.

And it is that final bit that has got my goat over Jade Goody and her brush with cervical cancer recently. To be fair, I have only seen odd headlines on the front of the magazines which litter the racks of Tesco and Sainsburys but she apparently has been so close to death on an ever increasing number of occasions that it is a miracle she has had the time, the inclination or the health to do interviews. Now I gather she is faced with her Chemo which she can hardly deal with the thought of.

Yes Jade, you and all the other people in the country who have had, and presently have, cancer. Yet they manage to cope with what dignity they can in situations which I suspect are many times worse than yours. I may be being incredibly uncharitable but I suspect the pain of her illness was somewhat lessened by the anaesthetic of yet more column inches in the media.

Housework

I've had real trouble with internet connections recently, both with the landline and mobile connections, however, I'm back.

At least it's made me do a little bit of tidying up of the links to the right. Delete a few, update a few, etc.

Obviously nothing too exciting you understand.

The Big Bang

Am I the only one who really wishes he'd been at CERN this week and when they turned on the Collider blown up a crisp packet and burst it behind everyones back?

Going to Big School

Lord, I feel old.

40 years ago today I started at Ealing Grammar School as a fresh faced 11 year old.

Things I didn't know then but would begin over the next few years......

I sat next to boy called Walter John Loosley. Although he is now known by his middle name he has remained one of my closest friends to this day.

I joined the school choir which led to me joining the church choir and developing a love of classical music. Although I didn't sing for the best part of 30 years it was this start that has lead me to being in West London Opera, amongst other groups, today.

Although I never really tried it, the school introduced me to rowing. In 1980, two of my classmates, Ian McNuff and John Beattie rowed at the Olympics in Moscow and came back with a Bronze medal. Also in the boat was Martin Cross who did the commentary on Radio 5 last month. Oh, and my history master was David Tanner, present Head of English Rowing. That's why, when the Olympics were on recently, I watch the rowing with most interest.

The other thing I managed to do was fail 8 of my 9 O'levels. I relied on my natural ability and didn't put in the effort. A trait that reappears in my life with all too frequent regularity.

Harder than you think!

I'm getting fed up of people saying that Michael Phelps 8 gold medals are easily obtained because he has so many races that he is capable of entering.

Admittedly, most of those saying probably don't swim at all otherwise they might get an idea of just how difficult competing in four different strokes at any level actually is.

The argument that he has four strokes and four different distances he could cover doesn't seem to work for athletes yet to me it should be even easier for them. After all they only have to run. Now, if they had to do some of them backwards, or others on just one leg then I might take some notice. And why don't decathletes compete in the ten individual sports as well as the collective. Because of course, they are good at all of them but not "world class" at any of them. That's not to decry them as I do believe that is the hardest of all gold medals to get.

So, anyone who thinks what he did was easy, I have a challenge. If you don't normally swim butterfly, just have a go. Just one length, that's all. Then assuming you haven't managed to drown yourself by getting the breathing horribly wrong I am up for the following;

I swam at schoolboy level 35 years ago, and then, only 50m breaststroke. I haven't swum more than a length in three years. I will take you on at the eight races he won gold at and see if you can beat me at any of them, but we have to do them all.

There won't be any gold medals though!

Lame Excuse

Not that it's any excuse for the lack of posts but I have an injured foot. I don't know how I did it. Went to bed on Sunday night right as rain, woke up Monday morning and couldn't put any weight on it. It's not getting better but still doing the manful thing and ignoring it in the hope it will miraculously cure itself. I may give in and go to casualty tomorrow if it is stil really bad.

For better or worse...

New technology is supposed to bring benefits. I can think of two areas where it appears to have made it worse.

One is the world of banking, where it now takes one day longer to pay money into your account than it did 30 years ago, although to be fair, that is more to do with banks wanting the extra day's interest even though technology would allow instant transfers should they wish.

The second is weather forecasting. Last sunday, BBC 5 day forecast for London was

Light Showers
Rain
Light Showers
Sun
Sun

By Monday night it was rain for all five days.

What have we had so far?

Monday, Sun with an interesting electrical storm in the evening with a bit of rain to follow.
Tuesday, Sun.
Wednesday, Sun.

Well, the billions that have been spent on the weather satellites have been worth every penny then. It would probably be more accurate just to hang some seaweed outside the door. Unless of course, that is how they do it?

Hells Kitchen

We are working on a kitchen refurb at the moment. We allowed two weeks and we are now in week four. The client doesn't mind and the kitchen does look good, but I won't half be glad to get it finished!

Time Travel

Listening to the news yesterday I understand that Gordon Brown was at a facility that takes young men on the edge of crime and teaches them a trade. In the past he has also talked about fast-tracking the brighter pupils at school.

I have a suggestion.

At 11 we could divide the kids up into those who are academic achievers and send them to, say, a grammar school. Those who show talents in other directions could go to a new type of secondary school, called perhaps, a secondary modern. Come 16 those in the secondary moderns who were lagging academically, or anyone else who wanted to, could go to technical colleges where they would be taught a trade. I reckon that would fulfill his bright new future vision.

Oh yes, that's what we had up till the 70s when the Labour government decided to destroy it in favour of Comprehensive education. The great idea where if you mix academic children with those of other abilities everyone will improve to the highest level. Just like if you go training at Chelsea's training ground you too will play in the Premiership!

How to work for nothing.

My mate has been off work for 7 years on incapacity benefit etc. He has decided it is time to go back to work, albeit part time. "The Powers That Be" have been very good at trying to find him something suitable and have given training in areas where he wanted it.

Another section of TPTB have informed him that all the money he earns will be deducted from his benefits and also his rent and council tax allowances will have to be reviewed.

So exctly where is the incentive to return to work when you can end up with no financial gain if not financially worse off?

He doesn't expect them to pay him his full benefit plus keep his wage, but if they deducted 50% until earnings hit parity with benefits it would at least offer some encouragement. If he is financially worse off he will jack in the job even if it does mean his self-esteem will take a knock.

I see no ships

According to the BBC website, at 1'o'clock this morning visibility will be very good.

No, it won't. It'll be dark. I won't be able to see a bloody thing.

And to think, the BBC used to be the fount of all knowledge.

In a world of their own.

Passing Syon Lane Station in West London yesterday there were 6 peopl crossing the zebra crossing for whom I stopped. Well, I say I stopped, which I did but that was mainly so I didn't run them over as they didn't bother to stop at the kerb but just decided to step onto the crossing. The first four were wearing ipod earplugs (white), the fifth had headphones on, the sixth was managing to walk without the aid of music.

Only one managed to say thankyou. It was the one who was fully involved in the here/hear and now. Those with the earphones strode on regardless of traffic. They say you never hear the bullet that kills you, for some I would imagine that also includes the car.

Fuel Frugality

I have finally filled the tank of the new Peugeot. (See about 5 posts earlier at a guess).

It cost £92.00!! but the tank was almost dry, I managed to fit 69.6 litres in, not bad on a 70 litre tank, it must have been running on fumes. That 69.6 litres covered 533.4 miles, 130 of it motorway, the balance driving around London. I can be bothered to work out the total to the 43rd decimal point but that is near enough an average of 35 miles to the gallon.

As I was expecting only about 630 miles for a complete tank on the motorway I'm pretty pleased. I reckon I might push 700 miles to the tank if I chose to drive to Scotland and back, which I aren't.

The sins of the father....

are visited upon the child. Or perhaps given to in this case.

This is going to be a bit of a 3 point ramble. Or it is when I started typing. It may expand, be warned!

Yesterday, at Marj's school, there was an "incident", the modern day euphamism for everything from a hissy fit to a murder. Whilst not the latter it was serious enough for the boy involved to be excluded. So the school rang the mother to come and collect him. After 2 hours they rang her again. She decided she was too busy to come at the moment. Another 3 hours later and she deigned to turn up. She then decided that everything was the schools fault. How they had caused her childs bad behaviour, never given him a chance, etc, etc.

Is the mother right, is the school right? The background may give you a clue. The mother was called because of course, the father isn't about, he is serving at Her Majestys Pleasure. Not sure why she was busy as she wasn't looking after the two older boys because they are both in Feltham Young Offenders Unit.

The shame is, that although this boys older siblings were always trouble, he wasn't, but it has been obvious to all those at the school that he would go the same way, even though they've tried to help him. It would be quite easy to see him as a young troublemaker but I just feel sorry for him. I've met him, very briefly, just once. It was actually whilst he was getting into trouble for something else, but I don't think he's a really bad kid. Just unlucky in his upbringing. You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family.

But this links on to another tale.

In September, Marjs school is likely to be given a new pupil entering Year 6. It's their "turn". This boy has been excluded from virtually every other school in the borough, including the unit that takes excluded pupils! He's violent. But of course he has rights. His parents have rights. There is an expectation that he should be educated in a mainstream school. He won't be at her school long. He will almost definitely get excluded within the first term, if not half term. But I'm more concerned about the rights of the child who is going to be on the receiving end of the punch/kick/beating that gets him excluded. I'm all for giving someone another chance, maybe, two, probably not as many as he's had, and certainly not when the specialist schools staff can't control him. Would you like to offer him a place in your childs school?

Lastly, someone was talking on the radio the other day and made a point that got me thinking. They were saying that when my generation was young we were wheeled about in prams that faced our mother, or occasionally father. That way we were always in sight of her, always reassured, always being spoken to, and thus always learning Now, many babies and small children face away, towards the world. They don't have that contact. They're not developing their language skills, they are on their own. The worst pushchairs that I have seen are the ones where the parent takes the kid jogging and pushes it along, facing forward. If I was a small child I'd be scared stiff. Maybe in the end it doesn't make a blind bit of difference, I'm sure those who have outward facing pushchairs believe it isn't a bad thing, but I do wonder whether it has made a difference.

Your comments please.

No sooner said........

I am now the proud owner of a Peugeot 406 Diesel Estate, or I will be when I've made the long trip to Darlington to get it on Wednesday. That'll be 6 hrs 50 mins on a National Express coach, but at least it only costs £6.00, a bit of a bargain, less than a quid an hour.

A tank will do 635 miles rather than 240 from the Lexus. I reckon the car will pay for itself in just a few months as it's only costing me £700. Expect to hear no more on the matter unless the car is absolutely brilliant or a complete dog.

Tax Haven

The government must think they are living in paradise. It's bad enough that they charge us so much tax on fuel but then, to charge us VAT on the tax proportion is just taking the P.

I'm thinking about changing the car to something somewhat more fuel frugal. The cost of motoring is now getting too high. I could increase the profit the company takes to cover it but you have to watch competitive prices.

Meanwhile, the extra £7bn that the government has earned in fuel taxation since april, yes, that's april this year, will no doubt fail to be spent on anything of use to motorists such as road surfaces. And no, speed/safety cameras and remote cctv cameras to monitor parking are not a help to motorists.

Let's hope yesterdays by-election is a sign of things to come.

On December 5th last year we were burgled, as chronicled here. The only thing taken was Marj's car. We had a call last Friday to say it had been recovered. It is now in a Police Pound in Perivale. So last night we went to retrieve it and queued for an hour to be processed. Today I have to go back with the RAC to see if it will start. We know the battery is dead, but we know nothing else about the condition. The police can't tell us wheter it is driveable, what damage there appears to be, although it can't be extensive as they seem to think that it should be driveable. As it is, we have yet to actually clap eyes on it.

An update will follow later.

Thoughts on BoJo.

Boris, our new mayor, is often portrayed as non-serious. This partly stems from him hosting Have I Got News For You some time back. Now, you only get that gig if you have a bit of personality. Apparently it is wrong for the mayor of London to have a personality. Perhaps nearly as wrong as it is for the prime Minister to have no personality.

Is Boris an idiot? He represents the Conservatives in Henley. Now there probably isn't a safer seat in Britain than that so why would he be given it if the tories didn't think he was immensely able. If he was an idiot he would have been given an inner city seat to fight that he would lose. Also, a sizeable number of the constituents he represents are, in general, influential business people. They are not the sort to sufer fools gladly. If he wasn't good at what he does he would have been "removed" before the last election.

He has appointed a coloured gentleman called Ray Lewis as his deputy. The man is incredibly able and has helped turn many black youths lives round with the work he has done. As well as being deputy, part of his remit is to advise on strategies for tackling youth crime. Part of the black community are complaining that Boris is only doing this for tokenism. Would they be the same as those who would complain that it was racism if he had appointed somebody white.?

There are others complaining that he is appointing people who will "do the job for him". Well I'm sorry, that's actually the role of Mayor. Rather like on a ship, the Captain doesn't stoke the boiler. INdeed, quite often the Captiain isn't steering the boat either. He is a figurehead with overall responsibility. The more able people Boris brings in, the better.

I certainly think his Mayoral term is going to be eventful. I hope for the better. I guess he has also found out, as if as a politician he didn't already know - You Just Can't Win.

Fraise phrases

I now know how many french words an english person is meant to be able to cope with!

It is 18!

We have been trying to win a french cottage in The Daily Mail's competition. Each day you have to collect a word to submit. Until today we have been given such French fancies as; croissant, baguette, fromage, pommes, bonjour.

After 18 days we have hit a brick wall. Todays word is....... strawberries. Apparently fraises is just that bit too foreign for any red blooded english man or woman to have to cope with, despite the fact that it is plastered over the packaging of any strawberry related item in a supermarket in these days of imported goods.

Or maybe it is just because it is St Georges Day they didn't want anything French to taint our celebrations.

I await tomorrows word with baited breath.

I'm no celebrity

I have an awful confession to make. I have reached the age of 51 and have not;

Had any eating disorder,
Had a drug hell,
Had a sex shame,
Killed my ex-lovers hamster/cat/brother/boyfriend/giraffe.
Had a breast reduction,
Been in rehab,
Appeared in a soap,
Had a boob-job
Had a tummy tuck
Lost 8lb and have a new trim figure,
Put on 8lb and am really happy with my new curves,
Had my children made a ward of court,
married a footballer.

I have to face it, I'm never going to get into Closer/Heat/OK magazine.

But I've lied, one of the above in fact has happened.........but which one?

Waymarkers Welcome

Hi to all you waymarkers who venture past this way. Leave a comment then I'll know who you were.

Schoolday Sweets.

Thought about sweets I used to have when I was at school.

Kola Cubes, Pineapple Cubes, Rhubarb & Custard.

My favoeites though were probably Sherbet Pips! Easily retrieved from a blazer pocket and surreptitiously eaten during lessons. Mmmm!

Of course, when I say easily retrieved, that was until they solidified in the bottom of your pocket and mixed with the ever present fluff that was generated in school blazer pockets. Come jacket cleaning time I don't think they were my mums favourite sweets!

What were your favourites?

Heavy Leather Balls

So, yet more talk in the media about the behaviour of footballers. This is the problem when you pay peope too much money and they start to think they are important. I know it's a tactic to try and harass the refere but it's not a particulrly positive one.

How I long for the day when a goal was celebrated by jogging back to the halfway line with nothing more than a handshake with your colleagues and perhaps a pat on the back to encourage a young player.

Players with short back and sides, long shorts and simple unbranded jerseys, shinpads, boots that soaked up the water, along with a leather laced up football that left imprints on your head when you headed it.

Modern football players wouldn't survive in that environment. Diving wouldn't have been tolerated had anyone bothered to be so ungentlemanly as to have tried it. Stud marks up and down your legs were part of the game, not something to roll around on the floor as though death was imminent.

Heigh Ho, those times are not coming back, pity though. And yes, I know the argument is that the skills on display are so much better.

Immaculate conception?

I have mentioned before amongst these ramblings, my step-sistes Erica who lives in San Francisco and is of a Sapphic persuasion.

I hear today that she is pregnant. I suspect that Debbie, her partner, is not the father! This modern life! It's all too confusing for an old timer like me.

When honour means nothing.

In present day Britain, honour, duty, bravery and courage mean nothing. The heroes of the day are overpaid footballers, the women who hang around them and anybody who once appeared on television, preferably either drunk, swearing, having sex, or even better, all three.

The Gurkhas however, have all the qualities that Britons were once known for.

So what happens now. We let anybody from the EU into the country regardless of their lifestyle, financial or criminal status, and those who come to cause terrorrism and the overthrow of our country, but we want to deport generous, polite, well mannered, dutiful, brave, loyal, servants of our country. Many of whom have given their lives, and the rest being willing to risk them, in our defence.

Of course, the Goverment will try to deport them. It saves them a small amount of money and The Gurkhas will not cause any trouble, it is against their principals. I wonder if the Government knows what principals are?

If you can take 5 minutes to e-mail your MP or do something else to show your support, please do.

Of course, if you don't have time to do that because you have to rush out and get this weeks copy of Heat magazine to find out how many times Jordan has thrown up this week then I quite understand.

Too fat for Bluetooth.

I have given in and bought one of those bluetooth thingies so I can walk round with a flashing blue light in my ear and talk to myself like an idiot. There is only one problem. If I put the phone in my right hand trouser pocket, (where it lives), with my earpiece in my left ear, (the best one for hearing with), my stomach breaks the line of sight and I lose the connection.

How embarrasing!

Past images.

There's a photographic exhibition in Leeds showing photos of Armley and Burley. My mum grew up in Burley, and I know Armley from family holidays.

From the few photos I've seen from there so far, they could have been from the 40's or 50's but in fact were taken in 1969. Kids sat on doorsteps, playing in the street, ladies stringing their washing from one side of the road to the other, etc. I find it quite emotional to look at them as they remind me of my grandparents who lived in Armley.

I'm going to go take a look and I'm half inclined to see if mum fancies going too. It'll be like a road trip!

Do The Funky Gibbon

I've been invited by a mate to Go Ape!

I quite like the idea, and I have agreed to it. The problem is I'm scared of heights. Even quite low heights.

When I swam for the school I didn't like it when we had to use racing blocks because it seemed way too high above the water to dive in. As for diving boards, whoa, forget it.

Luckily they have people who come and rescue you if you get stuck, although embarrassment might mean I stay up there for some time. It doen's fill me with confidence that within the safety instructions the word fatal appears more than once.

I've spent many a year telling people I'm possessed by a gibbon, now it's come back to haunt me.

The other problem I've been thinking about is will I have to paint my bottom blue?

We have lift off

It's taken a time to get this far, and I'll have quite a time of ploughing more items on, but the website for Marj's half of the company is launched!

Serranda Sensuals.

Pop along for all your hosiery, lingerie and swimwear needs.

Parish Notices

I have flu, or the tail end of it. Real flu. Not man-flu. Being ill is very good for losing weight. 5lbs in a week. Better than I'd been doing by being careful with what I ate.

Spirits were raised yesterday by once more attending The Harrogate Lingerie and Swimwear Exhibition. Scantilly clad women and a free chocolate fountain! Marj was also delighted to find there were some male models this year. She has had to lie down in a darkened room to recover.

Many a true word, and other proverbs....

How sharper than a serpents tooth is an ungrateful child, or three for that matter! Domestic bliss eh?!

Culture for the Masses

I did write quite a long piece on this, but as you can imagine it was a slightly ineloquent rant. But basically you can file it under the, "if only teachers had no life of their own, worked 47 hours a day for 12 days a week, then all would be right with the world".

I'm all for giving kids culture but for gods sake, can't someone explain to parents that they have some bloody responsibility to "educate" their kids as well!

Onwards to glory

As part of Marj's annual assessment, she has been asked to consider whether she wants to take the extra training and exams to become a full time teacher and leave the world of Higher Level Teaching Assisstant behind.

As the schools music specialist she already does some teaching just in that subject. So she has been working on the pros and cons of moving forward.

PROS : Having a whole class to take and teach full time. The extra money. Paid holidays. (HLTAs only get paid for working time, not the 13 weeks they are on holiday). "On the job" courses rather than full time education.

CONS : The time needed to complete the course outside of the working day. The parents! (More so than the kids). But by far the worst thing is the amount of admin required to be carrried out by teachers.

That admin is what will probably put her off. Planning the lessons is okay. And if it was just marking work then she could cope. It's the assesments, the "levelling" of pupils, the follow-ups and a whole raft of other stuff she's told me about that I've forgotten.

Gone are the days when teachers just taught, marked and wrote reports. Now they must prove to the government that they can fit all the new initiatives that Westminster come up with into an already full timetable, and then be ready to scrap those next year when they change everything. They must take the blame for the deficiencies of parents in helping their children learn at home. (Parents are asked to read with their children for just 10 mins per day, but for many of the parents at her school there just isn't time to fit this into the merry-go-round of soaps and reality programmes). They are now being cited as a reason that children are obese. When children fight, if a teacher breaks the fight up they are liable to be sued, or at the least reported, should a child decide they were rough handled.

So on balance, what is probably a vocation for her, will be avoided as it is too stressful. That's why most teachers need the holidays.

Not quite according to plan.

I particularly liked the report on News at Ten last night regarding the terrorist who was planning to capture a UK Muslim soldier and "behead him like a pig".

At the end of the report it mentioned that he had always wanted to go to Afghanistan and fight with the Taliban. And what was the reason given that he couldn't go? His wife wouldn't let him!

No doubt he would have fought in the first Gulf War, but his mum made him come in for tea! Sometimes it must be really awkward being an international terrorist when your family just don't get it.

'Twas if it never were.

So all is back to normal. Marj is back at school, the traffic is as bad as ever and suppliers have dragged themselves back into their offices. Even I have managed to do some paperwork!

Having stood on a pair of scales last week and immediately fallen off them with shock I've started the annual diet. Part of the exercise routine is to go to Ceroc every week. If ever there is a series of Strictly Come Lumbering About I'll be a shoo-in. Those who fancy seeing an 18.5 stone 51 year old two left footed idiot trying to dance should get themselves to Twickenham of a Monday night. It's better entertainment than what's on telly.

Merry Christmas

May your Christmas be everything you want it to be!

Michelin Magic

People may think he's got his head up his arse but you have to hand it to Heston Blumenthal, his ideas are amazing before you even get to marvel at the accomplishment of them.

His Christmas Dinner involved a sorbet that was on fire but didn't burn.

Marj had better pull out all the stops!

The Comeback

So Led Zep have done whatever it is that they do. My brother was a big fan, they did nothing for me.

On the radio this morning the commentator was mentioning that Jimmy Page didn't make any reference to them going on a world tour.

I hope they don't. If they did I think it would be unfair on those who went to see them last night who applied for tickets on the grounds that this was the one and only chance to see them play again. I also think it would be selling out rather and it's not something I would expect them to do. In this age of bands reforming at the drop of a very large cheque I hope they have some integrity.

Assuming they don't, the only person I would feel a bit sorry for is John Bonhams son who took his place on the drums. I guess it might be nice for him to tour with his dads old group.

Scum

An open letter to the bastards that burgled us last night.

Oi scum.

Bring Marj's car back. But bring it back whilst I'm here. I won't say anything negative to you. But I am likely to kick your fucking head in!

When we find out who you are, and there will be ways and means, because you're a bit of a stupid c*nt and you left a dna trace behind, and I have a friend in the police who will happily pass on your details, you will be meeting me, or an agent of my intention.

Please don't feel threatened as it's not a threat. It's a promise!

Je suis off to France

I'm off to France for the weekend for a bit of Christmas shopping both of the presents and the booze variety.

Ta Ta.

Calling Graybo!..... Calling Graybo!

Monsieur Graybo, should you find yourself in Kingston, Surrey, at any time, there is a new branch of Montezuma.

I should hate you to go hungry and miss it. :)

Where is my muse?

Following on from last years storming success as the boss of the shepherds in last years carol service at M's church I am attempting to write a small section for the three kings, although only two appear and it's bit of a Waiting for God(ot) scenario. At the moment we have gold, frankinsence and a shortage of decent script ideas.

Do you have any good Three Kings jokes?

I have no problem with gold, Frankinsence and plagiarism!

I know my rights!

Not sure who the guy was on the radio yesterday, but whilst discussing education came up with a very relevant quote.

The problem these days is that school kids all know their rights but don't understand that to have those rights they also have responsibilities.

[Sound of teenagers fainting all over Britain]

Sitting Tenants

At friends on Sunday we were chatting and they mentioned that their neighbours were having trouble moving as their 20-odd year old layabout son refused to give them permission to sell.

What? We thought. Was he on the deeds? No. Had he been left a share of the property via inheritance? No.

It was explained that now, if you have children still at home with you who have attained the age of majority that in the eyes of the law they are sitting tennts and thus have rights to remain in the property if you sell.

Very interesting, we thought, but rare it should come up.

Until yesterday evening that is. M had a financial adviser around to re-negotiate the mortgage and when he found out her 20 year-old daughter still lives with her mentioned that she will have to sign a disclaimer to say that she will not attempt to stay in the property should it be sold by her mother.

Bloody Hell. How on earth have we got to this situation?

1984 - Big Brother IS watching you.

This morning I received a parking ticket.

Actually, that's not correct.

This morning I had a letter telling me that 13 days ago my car was parked in a place where loading and parking were subject to restrictions during certain hours.

I couldn't have been given a ticket, not because I wasn't there, but because there was no warden there. I was spotted by a remote CCTV camera.

A camera which is obviously trained on monitoring the public during the day. Watching you walk down the road. Watching your kids go to school. Noting you drop that piece of litter. Monitoring you chat innocently enough to the girl from the office opposite. Watching your wife answer the door in her nightie.

There are also three boards on this section of road asking for witnesses to various road accidents and assaults. Of course, they failed to notice them.

Was that a clock I just heard striking thirteen?

All Aboard.

Spent today testing the new Eurotunnel terminus at St Pancras.

As you would expect it is very modern, glass everywhere, and other than the roof doesn't blend in with the architecture of the hotel to the front on Euston Road. The new bit incorporates many old iron pillars which don't seem out of place until you look at them and then it lust looks a bit strange though not unpleasant. Nice wooden floor arrangement in departure and arrival halls.

I would say it is better than the terminal at Waterloo, more open, more space but that might change when there are more people about. They handled two full trains of passengers at the same time without more than a few seconds delay.

The "journey" involved going to Stratford concrete works International, just 7 minutes away. Not an overly inspiring station at platform level. Maybe it looks better above ground.

Anyway, that's a free return ticket for my troubles so I'll get to visit again for real some time in the next 12 months.

The Special One

No, not Jose.

At Marjs school there is a young child, male, who has started nursery. His parents waited a long time to have him. Indeed, so special is he to them that his name, translated into English from his home tongue means "special one". A fact they remind him of continually. He is 3 years old.

On Tuesday he slapped a teacher round the face. Not an accidental slap due to flailing arms during a temper tantrum but a deliberate strike beacuase he didn't want to do what he had been asked to do.

At the end of the day the headmistress caught his mother and explained what had happened and that they needed to do something about it. Apart from re-iterating that he is "special", the mantra she uses at the beginning of every conversation, as she explained;

"When he does that to us, (his parents), we ask him not to."

Oh well, thats okay then. Hardly going to have a discipline problem with him then in years to come.

But then of course, he is special.

Ed Ed Ed

Time for todays education rant.

Dear Labout Government,

You, along with your predecessors from the 60s/70s have tinkered with the education system and it isn't working. Stop It!

No sooner do teachers learn this weeks major policy change than you decide to change it and bring in this years initiative. What with literacy hour, guided reading, catch up reading, Phonics, and a new system of learning which is being introduced as "the answer" there is no consistency and certainly no improvement.

All we hear about is how much better the education system is and you point to how many people come out of school with A grade A Levels. You can dumb the exams down and massage the figures all you like but when Universities, (the real ones that is, not the Fred Bloggs University of Little Clogmorton), have to spend the first term running literacy courses to get the standard of reading up to that required to study degrees, then there's been a major f*ck up somewhere along the way.

Right, I'm off to lie down in a darkened room before my head explodes.

Looking down on you.

One thing I was able to do yesterday whilst flying back from Edinburgh, apart from travelling Business Class for the first time, was fly the best part of the length of England. From around Newcastle down there was very little cloud so I was able to see Britain from the air.

At cruising height of 35000ft towns were just like islands of light. Enough detail to make out areas but not individual roads, other than major ones.

By the time we were down to 24000ft towns became luminous cobwebs. Filigree roads of light surrounding a central hub of more condensced glow.

Below 12000ft and you are looking at a luminous AtoZ of roads.

I saw a number of football and other sports stadia but couldn't tell you what they were for love nor money. It would actually have been useful to have a map of Britain to see if I could work our what towns/cities I was looking down at.

As always, I managed to sit on the "wrong" side of the plane. As we passed over Manchester I was looking to the East but wondered if those across the aisle could see Blackpool and if that would look obvious.

On the way up I did the "Boys with Toys" thing asnd took 5 minute reading from my GPS with location, height, speed and bearing. If you're lucky I will plot it out and share it with you later for your general boredom edification.

I will be flying back up there again in the next few weeks so I'll try to take my camera and hope for a clear night.

Success at last.

I managed all the journeys last week but for Edinburgh. That has been postponed until tomorrow. As I'm doing it as a day trip I shall be flying. By pure coincidence, tomorrow I celebrate the fact it is exactly one third of a century since I started life as a working man. (The term "working" obviously being used in the loosest of possible terms). It will also be the first time I have ever flown to see a client. Somehow, flying on business at great expense seems the mark of success, although I suspect if I did it every week it would be a complete pain. If only some of the teachers at my grammar school wrere there to see it I should greet them with a sneer and point out maybe I'm just that bit more successful than they thought I would ever be.

No time to lose..

Not only am I off to Blackpool for 4 days but I've also got to fit in a trip to Suffolk, Edinburgh and possibly Oxford in the next seven days.

The Silver Jubilee

This coming weekend I'm off to Blackpool. JC , who I go with, is celebrating his 25th annual visit. No doubt much beer will be drunk, as will I. And ic a severe case of "taking coals to Newcastle", Marj is coming as well. That should curtail my normal shennannigans!

Joke #36290

What are the New Zealand Rugby Team doing to help global warming?

Giving the Aussies a lift home on their plane.

To infinity and beyond...

Diamond Geezer has written a piece celebrating the 50th anniversary of Sputnik and how exciting the space race was back then.

Back in the sixties as a child everything seemed possible, even the most ludicrous of suggestions. By now we should be just popping protein pills rather than eating food and I'm still waiting for my personal flying saucer!

So, okay, reality hasn't exactly measured up to the dream but it served a purpose. We were all forward thinking. Our horizons expanded way beyond Earths limitations. Many scientists today probably got inspired by the possibilities of our future and certainly as kids the whole thing was exciting and who on earth didn't want to be an astronaut, assuming there were no train driving jobs left?

So our generation was inspired to look outwards to a magical future full of exciting technologies and strange planets. What does the youth have today? Where is the forward thjinking to come from. If the media and doom sayers are to be believed, thanks to global warming, it must be destruction. Would a new era of space travel inspire them as it did us? Probably not. Would they find the possibility of finding a little green man on mars as exciting as the strange synthetic worlds they can inhabit on their computers?

Okay, I'm 50 now, but in the words of a theme tune back then,

I wish I was a spaceman
The fastest guy alive,
I'd fly around the universe,
in Fireball XL5

And I still would.

Not got a leg to stand on..

All I can see is there will be a meeting of these two parties where there will be one chasing the other hitting him over the head with the wooden leg.

More Cheese Grommit?

Hurrah, there is to be a new Wallace & Grommit short film for TV.

And todays major disaster is.....

Just as M and me decide things are stressful enough, her youngest daughter, 20, drops another bombshell. Can't talk much about it here but words and phrases such as "ex-boyfriend, pregnant, morning after pill, I still love him" are relevant.

The lifestyle of a hermit seems strangely appealing, although if the previous post is anything to go by, there's no point in M rushing off to a convent for a quiet life.

Big Sister

Now this is much more interesting than Big Brother.

Opera-tion L'Elisir

West London Opera go back into rehearsal tonight for next years production of L'Elisir D'Amore by Donizetti. Now that Pavarotti has shuffled off this mortal coil I have now been promoted by one place in the ranking of tenors. Only another couple of million places to go and I'll be at Covent Garden!

Wonderkids

Well, I must just mention one educationy bit.

This morning on the radio Ed Balls was talking about how exams haven't been dumbed down

When I took my French O'Level oral exam I went in knowing nothing about what would be discussed except it would be in French. Now, for GCSE French oral pupils are given a list of questions they could be asked and the answers to those questions for them to learn.

Exactly how does that equate to standards being the same.

Please insert the 1000 other examples you can probably come up with that prove the same point.

One on One Action

So on Monday we get one on one tutoring for all pupils. Tuesday brings us the right for every pregnant woman to have her own dedicated midwife. What betting that we also have our own policeman/woman during the law and order debate.

Still there'll be no more unemployment due to the fact we'll all have to have half a dozen jobs to cover these grand ideas.

I daren't even start on the education proposals. My brain would explode and the internet would be clogged up for months to come.

Beautiful Bird

Driving past Heathrow yesterday on the A30 a wondrous sight appeared. Sitting by the hangars was a Concorde. Gleaming in the sun it cheered even a miserable bugger like me.

Open House

It's London Open House weekend this coming weekend. If you're in the capital or environs it's your chance to get into some buildings that are normally closed to the public.

I must get off my backside this year and visit the famed Neasden Mandir.

That's okay then.

It might just be me but I would have thought that Ellie Lawrenson deserves a little more justice.

But no, if you leave your 5 year old daughter with her convicted drug using grandmother, who then proceeds to drink two bottles of wine and smoke ten spliffs, and who then allows a dog on the dangerous breeds list which has previously bitten people into the house, then should by any chance your small child be savaged to death, then nobody will be guilty of anything.

Thank god we crack down on speeding motorists otherwise I'd hate to think what the country would become.