Didn’t get the bus I normally catch this morning. No matter, I thought, the sun was shining and Bideford Quay would be as good a place as any to while away the time until the next one. That was a strategic error of no little magnitude. The reason for it being a blunder not to be repeated (hence The Who song title at the top of the posting) is that the next bus allows pupils bound for Park School in Barnstaple to get on board.
I should emphasise that letting these schoolkids on the bus is not akin to bringing the Trojan Horse within the city walls or just allowing the Visigoths to use your loo before they go on somewhere else to pillage, but…. I know this is going to make me sound all Meldrew-ish…. these kids just talked non-stop shite. They were also incredibly noisy and foul-mouthed beyond belief. The group of girls sitting closest to me would have been about 13 years old – no older – so to hear one of them constantly going on about “motherfuckers” was somewhat disconcerting. This is slightly hypocritical of me as I swear at will, but that does not generally include while I am on a bus.
Anyway, could have been worse, I didn’t have to fend off the little heathens with a rolled-up umbrella, gradually retreating to the door of the bus so I could escape, but I did breathe a sigh of relief when I stepped off the bus. How teachers can put up with that sort of stuff day in, day out is a mystery to me. Not much wonder so many of the teachers I have met are either incipient alcoholics or teetering on the edge of insanity, and in some cases are both. Lesson learned, don't miss the bus.
Thursday 27 May 2010
Wednesday 26 May 2010
50 not out, now for the back 9
Mixed sporting terminology there, which is doubly weird as I haven’t played cricket since school and golf is terra incognita and always likely to remain so. Anyway, there is a point to the cricket and golf language which is…
I had my 50th birthday earlier this month and enjoyed very much the celebrating of it. However, the birthday reminded me of two things I held to be absolute truths about adults when I was just a child. Truth one: adults go to bed at midnight. Well this adult doesn’t – if I can get away with it, it’s much earlier, but then I am an early riser.
And truth two? Well that was that adults live to be 100. Look, I was only a child. Let’s face it when you’re a kid you think people in their 20s are pretty decrepit. So this all led me to thinking that if I had been correct when I was a child then my 50th birthday marked the halfway point and therefore, in golfing terms, I am now on the back nine. Seeing as I know most people do not live to be 100, in reality I am probably quite a long way through the back nine, but as I have pointed out before I am very aware of our fragile mortality so it’s not really anything to worry about.
Earlier this week I dusted off the bike and rode to work and then back again at the end of the day. All told a distance of slightly under 20 miles. The only trouble is I hadn’t ridden my bike since last autumn (what a slacker) and the next day my knees mounted their own protest at the unexpected exercise by giving me gyp every time I went up stairs. Now that’s definitely a sign of being grown-up.
I had my 50th birthday earlier this month and enjoyed very much the celebrating of it. However, the birthday reminded me of two things I held to be absolute truths about adults when I was just a child. Truth one: adults go to bed at midnight. Well this adult doesn’t – if I can get away with it, it’s much earlier, but then I am an early riser.
And truth two? Well that was that adults live to be 100. Look, I was only a child. Let’s face it when you’re a kid you think people in their 20s are pretty decrepit. So this all led me to thinking that if I had been correct when I was a child then my 50th birthday marked the halfway point and therefore, in golfing terms, I am now on the back nine. Seeing as I know most people do not live to be 100, in reality I am probably quite a long way through the back nine, but as I have pointed out before I am very aware of our fragile mortality so it’s not really anything to worry about.
Earlier this week I dusted off the bike and rode to work and then back again at the end of the day. All told a distance of slightly under 20 miles. The only trouble is I hadn’t ridden my bike since last autumn (what a slacker) and the next day my knees mounted their own protest at the unexpected exercise by giving me gyp every time I went up stairs. Now that’s definitely a sign of being grown-up.
Wednesday 19 May 2010
Dead cat, definitely no bounce
I found a dead cat this morning, or rather the dog did. I had seen a rather shapeless white thing on the ground in the middle of the small park where I was walking the dog, but it was not until I realised she was approaching said shape with very cautious interest that I thought I ought to investigate. And there was a cat looking for all the world as if it was sleeping, except that it wasn't. Dead things give off a dead vibe. I don't mean things like smelling horrible and so on, it's more a complete absence of life. Duh, you say, of course a dead thing isn't a live thing. But there is more to it than that. I've only once ever properly seen a dead person. It was someone I knew who died unexpectedly and the last time I had seen this person alive would have been no more than 48 hours before. Neither of us would have had any inkling that one of us would be dead before long, but there's no doubting it when you see it. By the way I am not a doctor and I do know that the medical profession do not go around saying: "Yep, he's dead. You've only got to look at him." But sometimes - the cat and the person I'm talking about - that's all it takes, just a look.
I made sure my dog did not interefere with the cat's body and left it where it lay. Aside from burying it myself, I couldn't think of what else to do. The poor old puss looked forlorn in the drizzle, but I expect it will be missed sooner or later. Maybe its owner lives in one of the houses near the park, will find their pet and take it home for a proper burial. And that's it really, a memento mori in the drizzle, in the park. That old clock is ticking for us all.
I made sure my dog did not interefere with the cat's body and left it where it lay. Aside from burying it myself, I couldn't think of what else to do. The poor old puss looked forlorn in the drizzle, but I expect it will be missed sooner or later. Maybe its owner lives in one of the houses near the park, will find their pet and take it home for a proper burial. And that's it really, a memento mori in the drizzle, in the park. That old clock is ticking for us all.
Sunday 16 May 2010
The coatpeg coalition
I've been a bit busy the last week turning 50 and celebrating my half century while at the same time watching the Mother of Democracies (their words, not mine) twist and turn. It seems the dust is beginning to settle, but for how long? I was pondering this while walking the dog through the early morning mist on Saturday and, somewhat bizarrely, it brought to mind woodwork lessons I had at school.
Being judged too dim for Latin lessons, I was assigned to woodwork instead. Big mistake, but never mind, it's all in the past. Anyway, one of the projects in woodwork was to design and make a coatpeg. This I did and then our long-suffering teacher, a real gent called Mr Jackson, mounted all the coatpegs on a long piece of wood so that we could compare them side by side. Mine looked as if it ought to be a coatpeg, it was on a plaque with a piece sticking out on which, in theory, you could hang a jacket. Mr Jackson then tested the capabilities of our hooks by the simple method of taking his own jacket and hanging it on each peg. I suspect you can see where this is leading. Sure enough, most coatpegs were more than adequate for the task, indeed some had so much bracing on them you could have hung a suit of armour on them. Then Mr Jackson reached mine, put the loop of his jacket over the little peg thingy on my coatpeg and let it take the weight. Or rather, watched his jacket fall to the floor as my coatpeg disintegrated.
What does this have to do with the Lib-Con Con-Dem whatever it's called coalition? Well my coatpeg was bodged up. Being an idle feckless type (Mr Jackson never complained, but I must have tested his patience) I just used nails to assemble the various bits of wood until they resembled a coatpeg. Clearly such a method was entirely unsuitable for the task and the whole thing fell apart. I know it's obvious where this coatpeg metaphor is going, but I have to admit that I'm wondering whether the coalition might just as easily fall apart. Are the Tories and Lib-Dems suitable materials for bonding into one thing which will be strong enough to lead the country back to less stormy waters?
I suppose putting aside my own prejudices, which suggest that, broadly speaking, all politicians are twats, I ought to be hoping that the coalition will deliver us from evil and yet I feel uneasy. I suspect that neither side will ever really trust the other and that if things get tough it will always be someone else's fault. Even so it's early days and they ought to be given a modest period of grace to try to stop Great Britain plunging into the abyss. In greater North Devon we can now say that both our MPs are on the Government side. Will that make any difference? Well, what do you think? I know, I know, cynicism is unhealthy, but then so are repeatedly dashed hopes.
Being judged too dim for Latin lessons, I was assigned to woodwork instead. Big mistake, but never mind, it's all in the past. Anyway, one of the projects in woodwork was to design and make a coatpeg. This I did and then our long-suffering teacher, a real gent called Mr Jackson, mounted all the coatpegs on a long piece of wood so that we could compare them side by side. Mine looked as if it ought to be a coatpeg, it was on a plaque with a piece sticking out on which, in theory, you could hang a jacket. Mr Jackson then tested the capabilities of our hooks by the simple method of taking his own jacket and hanging it on each peg. I suspect you can see where this is leading. Sure enough, most coatpegs were more than adequate for the task, indeed some had so much bracing on them you could have hung a suit of armour on them. Then Mr Jackson reached mine, put the loop of his jacket over the little peg thingy on my coatpeg and let it take the weight. Or rather, watched his jacket fall to the floor as my coatpeg disintegrated.
What does this have to do with the Lib-Con Con-Dem whatever it's called coalition? Well my coatpeg was bodged up. Being an idle feckless type (Mr Jackson never complained, but I must have tested his patience) I just used nails to assemble the various bits of wood until they resembled a coatpeg. Clearly such a method was entirely unsuitable for the task and the whole thing fell apart. I know it's obvious where this coatpeg metaphor is going, but I have to admit that I'm wondering whether the coalition might just as easily fall apart. Are the Tories and Lib-Dems suitable materials for bonding into one thing which will be strong enough to lead the country back to less stormy waters?
I suppose putting aside my own prejudices, which suggest that, broadly speaking, all politicians are twats, I ought to be hoping that the coalition will deliver us from evil and yet I feel uneasy. I suspect that neither side will ever really trust the other and that if things get tough it will always be someone else's fault. Even so it's early days and they ought to be given a modest period of grace to try to stop Great Britain plunging into the abyss. In greater North Devon we can now say that both our MPs are on the Government side. Will that make any difference? Well, what do you think? I know, I know, cynicism is unhealthy, but then so are repeatedly dashed hopes.
Wednesday 5 May 2010
X could finally mark the spot
Barely 24 hours to go and we can all get busy voting and exercising our democratic rights and that kind of thing. Won’t it be grand? However, as I have droned on already, don’t expect some radical transformation. Instead of waiting for some motormouth gimp in a suit to restore the gaiety of nations why not get out there and sort things out for yourself? Take control now.
First of all stop watching television at least some of the time and preferably all of the time. Even better, destroy your television. Never mind the garbage it pumps out in to your home, a television will suck the life out of you. You have been warned. Secondly, stop buying stuff. You might argue that there are some things you need and cannot do without – food I’m thinking of here. I won’t dispute that. But at the very least, buy real food and then cook it, with love, lots of love. Most other things you can do without. You really can. In a way, I’m trying to bring down capitalism but I really don’t want to have to go around shooting people. In fact, can I just make clear that shooting people is not an option at all? It’s a bad thing to do.
Basically we all need to withdraw our support from the massive edifice that is global capitalism and then gradually watch it collapse under its own weight. While we all suffer huge anxiety over trying to acquire a new and shiny thingumajig we are ignoring the fact that life is literally passing us by and we should get on with loving our nearest and dearest, smiling at the trees and counting the stars. Broadly speaking none of those things need the backing, financial or otherwise, of a gonk in the City setting up leveraged buy-outs, whatever they are, or selling short, whatever that means. It’s times like this I wish my dog was in the office with me, she'd know what to do.
First of all stop watching television at least some of the time and preferably all of the time. Even better, destroy your television. Never mind the garbage it pumps out in to your home, a television will suck the life out of you. You have been warned. Secondly, stop buying stuff. You might argue that there are some things you need and cannot do without – food I’m thinking of here. I won’t dispute that. But at the very least, buy real food and then cook it, with love, lots of love. Most other things you can do without. You really can. In a way, I’m trying to bring down capitalism but I really don’t want to have to go around shooting people. In fact, can I just make clear that shooting people is not an option at all? It’s a bad thing to do.
Basically we all need to withdraw our support from the massive edifice that is global capitalism and then gradually watch it collapse under its own weight. While we all suffer huge anxiety over trying to acquire a new and shiny thingumajig we are ignoring the fact that life is literally passing us by and we should get on with loving our nearest and dearest, smiling at the trees and counting the stars. Broadly speaking none of those things need the backing, financial or otherwise, of a gonk in the City setting up leveraged buy-outs, whatever they are, or selling short, whatever that means. It’s times like this I wish my dog was in the office with me, she'd know what to do.
Sunday 2 May 2010
This floating voter is sinking fast
In recent months I might have given the impression that I didn't think it would be worth voting in the general election. I might have suggested that there was little point as all politicians are as bad as each other, only in it for what they can get, don't give a toss about the electorate etc etc. Well, I'd just like to clarify my position, but the trouble is I can't. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to determine why I should vote, for whom I will vote and what I hope this will achieve.
But, having said all that, I think we, the electorate, have two choices and one very important truth to absorb. So, the two voting choices are vote or don't vote. What? Did you think I was going to tell you who you should vote for or even who I would vote for? Do grow up. But what I mean by saying vote or don't vote is that it is something we should all do as one. Imagine if everyone entitled to vote just didn't. No slacker "I meant to vote, but forgot, got there too late, thought it was the next day". Just real intentional "I'm not giving any of you my support". But let's face it, that won't happen. So the only option is to get out there and vote. Cast your vote on whatever basis you like - political conviction or the candidate's nice smile or even sticking a pin in a bit of paper.
Having cast your vote, the important truth to take in is. . .it won't make a blind bit of difference. Sorry to disillusion you, but the grim reality is that we as a nation are in such a deep shithole that merely changing the political complexion of the government will have barely any effect. To be brutally frank much of the reason we are in such a dire situation is entirely down to us. Yes, politicians have played their part, particularly in allowing banks and big business to roam at will feeding off us as if they were monstrous parasites, but we have encouraged them because of our insatiable desire to have "things". As long as we've been able to go on buying and consuming we've not really cared too much about what's been going on and now we have no option but to pay attention. And what we are likely to see in the coming months and even years will not be pleasant.
I live in the Torridge and West Devon constituency, almost literally a stone's throw from the boundary with the North Devon constituency. They could be twins, deeply rural, low income, housing shortage, and virtually invisible to central government. That, I fear, does not depend on the party allegiance of the two seats' MPs. When we've had MPs of the ruling party it hasn't made the slightest difference. The sad fact is that we are peripheral (in sight of the end of the world, as it says at the top of this blog) and we have no clout, and politics is rarely about doing the best one can for everyone, but doing the best one can to keep yourself in power.
I am sorry, when I started writing it, this posting was intended to be quite whimsical, and that's how it would have turned out were it not for the fact that the more I think about this the more I think that as a nation we are in denial about our situation. We hanker after "change" but we are not ready to change ourselves. Sorry to sound so bleak. Roll on May the 6th.
But, having said all that, I think we, the electorate, have two choices and one very important truth to absorb. So, the two voting choices are vote or don't vote. What? Did you think I was going to tell you who you should vote for or even who I would vote for? Do grow up. But what I mean by saying vote or don't vote is that it is something we should all do as one. Imagine if everyone entitled to vote just didn't. No slacker "I meant to vote, but forgot, got there too late, thought it was the next day". Just real intentional "I'm not giving any of you my support". But let's face it, that won't happen. So the only option is to get out there and vote. Cast your vote on whatever basis you like - political conviction or the candidate's nice smile or even sticking a pin in a bit of paper.
Having cast your vote, the important truth to take in is. . .it won't make a blind bit of difference. Sorry to disillusion you, but the grim reality is that we as a nation are in such a deep shithole that merely changing the political complexion of the government will have barely any effect. To be brutally frank much of the reason we are in such a dire situation is entirely down to us. Yes, politicians have played their part, particularly in allowing banks and big business to roam at will feeding off us as if they were monstrous parasites, but we have encouraged them because of our insatiable desire to have "things". As long as we've been able to go on buying and consuming we've not really cared too much about what's been going on and now we have no option but to pay attention. And what we are likely to see in the coming months and even years will not be pleasant.
I live in the Torridge and West Devon constituency, almost literally a stone's throw from the boundary with the North Devon constituency. They could be twins, deeply rural, low income, housing shortage, and virtually invisible to central government. That, I fear, does not depend on the party allegiance of the two seats' MPs. When we've had MPs of the ruling party it hasn't made the slightest difference. The sad fact is that we are peripheral (in sight of the end of the world, as it says at the top of this blog) and we have no clout, and politics is rarely about doing the best one can for everyone, but doing the best one can to keep yourself in power.
I am sorry, when I started writing it, this posting was intended to be quite whimsical, and that's how it would have turned out were it not for the fact that the more I think about this the more I think that as a nation we are in denial about our situation. We hanker after "change" but we are not ready to change ourselves. Sorry to sound so bleak. Roll on May the 6th.
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