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?