Remember Why We Remember

Wow! It's been a while!

Difficult to believe so much could happen in the time since I was last able to bore you all with a ramble, but so much has.

And it has only been around six months.

So here I am rambling again on rememberance weekend , a time when we think about those people whose life changed in an instant.

Rememberance time is something that I can recall from when I was a child, vividly.

The time of year, dark usually damp, sometimes cold, watching the event from the Royal Albert Hall on the Saturday, taking it in but secretly wishing they would march a little quicker as Match of the Day was due on next and I could be asleep! But even through my eagerness to see Jimmy Hill et al the power of what was being broadcast wasn't lost and even as a young child the knowledge that each petal was a life sent goosebumps through me, still does.

Then there was the Cenotaph, solemn, serious, respectful.

This was our way, the nations way of remembering and thanking those who had made the ultimate sacrifice, it was about them.

Sadly that is no longer the case.

The political elite and their extreme friends have been turning remembrance weekend more and more into a jingoistic flag waving exercise, with the my poppy is bigger than your poppy attitude, it's no longer about the people it's about them.

The poppy is a case in point.

Does anyone, anywhere, seriously question anyone's respect or patriotism if they are not wearing one? Does anyone really think that it's an insult to wear a different coloured one? Surely not.

When someone passes away who you were close to do you wear a black arm band? Do you wear dark colours until after the funeral all the time? No we don't.

Does that mean we care less for the person? No, it absolutely does not.

I am sat here writing this with my poppy in place, not because some idiot might think I am disrespectful or anti British, I wear it because I am paying respects to those who have fallen.

I wear my poppy for the right reason, how many others can honestly say that?

What's The Nul Point?

Warning... Party pooper alert!

Today sees the 60th anniversary of one the most unusual and puzzling phenomena of recent history. 

A group of nations who normally only ever talk to each other in parliaments or conference tables on subjects ranging from fish to the shape of bananas suddenly start to, and I use this term loosely, sing at each other, first party poop there, as I said I used the term loosely. 

The Eurovision Song Contest has defied taste and logic for 60 years, or has it? 

My first memory is of the likes of Dana, Mary Hopkin, Vicky Leandros and of course ABBA. A time when the entrants at least tried to live up to the name of the contest and write or sing a song. 

Yes there was a lot of naff then as well but those songs provided the entertainment, the novelty whilst the good songs fought it out for the judges vote, remember that? A judges vote? Not the public of nations who will inevitably vote for the neighbours or the country they go on holiday to or the country they want a loan from later in the year, the quality has gone.

I did warn you about the party pooper alert.

The contest is now a show to challenge who can be the loudest, strangest, in your face act on the continent, the song, remember the contest title? Takes second and even third place. 

Boo I hear the visionites cry... But sadly if you take away the costumes and hype you'll know I'm right, and oh yes, take away the microphones as well... If they did that and brought music judges back even this party pooper might watch again... I did say might. 

The Powerless Powerhouse

Well it's been a while...

Even though my New Years resolution was to attempt to keep the rambles light hearted, a little different,  it was always going to be difficult not to get involved with the circus that has been the General Election.

For those of you who read this in foreign climbs and I know there are many...thank you! It may be hard to understand how something as potentially simple as an election can completely take over a society, or rather 65% of a society as the other 70%(according to U Gov figures) couldn't be bothered, perhaps an even greater puzzlement for our non British friends, fancy be able to vote and not bothering?

What puzzles most people though, apart from supporters of the two main parties is how can 35% of 65% be called a mandate? 11million votes for one equals 320+ seats nearly 5 million votes for others equals 2?? I'll leave that one with you.

The other thing that kind of lingers like a bad smell is the use of rhetoric over the past month or so, words thrown about easily with no real plan as to how they will be put into use. Let me give you an example.

As a bit of background I live in Cheshire though it used to be Lancashire, another story. Cheshire is in the North West of England and is apparently part of something called a Northern Powerhouse...let's explore further.
 
The term Northern Powerhouse was coined by our chief coiner the Chancellor, basically what it means is if all the major northern cities and areas work together they may, may, at some point be able to buy a one bedroom apartment in London.

The rhetoric of northern powerhouse is I believe extremely patronising and here's why.

Firstly, it implies that all is well in London, this is far from the truth. London is a fantastic city and I love going there but it is being isolated from everywhere else by an executive that loves to divide and instead of it being a capital to be proud of, we are encouraged to look at it suspiciously and aspire to be like it. I'm not sure London likes that image...don't forget this ramble is my opinion.

Which now brings me to the cities in the powerhouse, these aren't one horse towns, sleepy hamlets, these are major cities with an awful lot to offer, they don't need to prove anything and I believe that the distraction of trying to become a powerhouse member could hinder them.

Greater cooperation between them is needed apparently, work together grow together but before you do Manchester will have a form of devolution, just Manchester, is that another division?

So how is this cooperation going to work we ask? Not much in the way of a reply apart from a possible new rail line across the Pennines in around 20 years...ooooo dynamic. I hope the following example will help to show the issues this powerhouse faces.

As I said I live in Cheshire and I have particular contact and interest with four of these major cities, Liverpool Manchester Leeds and Hull.

I live 15 miles from Liverpool, my office is based in North Manchester, a lot of my clients are in the Leeds area and and my son studied and lives in Hull so this is real experience.

I am going to relate to you a typical example of issues we face.

I can drive to our Manchester office...35 miles...easy I here you say...yep it is until around 5:30 am then it takes around 2 hours... If I drove to my office each day I would spend 20 hours of my working week in my car...and that's a good week that's 20 hours per week, 80 hours per month etc etc etc good for business?

So, let's say I need to go to Leeds, if it's in the city I can jump a train...well I can if I'm quick and time it right as it dashes through my station as only 1 train a day will through to Leeds from where I live, I can though change at Manchester, happy days, oh no! Hang on! Only 1 train an hour stops at my station so that's two trains, if I miss that I can get another to another Manchester station and then walk or wait for a train that has gone through my original station to get to the other Manchester station...still with me? Talk about joined up thinking...this powerhouse is looking distinctly less powerful by the minute. 

And if I want to go to Hull on the train I can't...unless I go to Manchester, even though the same train company will then take me to Hull. The ultimate irony though is I can get a train from my own station straight through to...Norwich!! You couldn't write it...oh I just did. 

This is just the tip of the ice berg, I haven't mentioned the northern villages of Newcastle, Preston, Sheffield, Lancaster, Sunderland as yet,  God knows what will happen when they get electricity and want a piece of this powerhouse. 

The above is reality not rhetoric, this is where we are this is what we have and the inept roads and frankly crazy railway systems will still be here even if the name was changed to immense region or the great north universe, action on infrastructure is needed and then the North would be able to not only challenge London but work with it for the good of everyone, a very foreign concept. 

Speaking of foreign, I mentioned earlier about our friends abroad, and I don't mean Scotland, I ask you, can you really see a U.S. Or Japan or Germany putting up with what I've described? No, neither can I. 

Tall Tales Short Stories

Being a kid at heart I was quite looking forward to relaunch, if you pardon the pun, of one of my favourite childhood TV shows this weekend. The Famous Tracy family who saved the world or at least a lot of its inhabitants are back,with us, clothes changed, hair and skin given a brush over, rockets and space stations modernised, strings, completely gotten rid of as CGI joined FAB. 

 Whether you think all this works is entirely up to you.

But that isn't the subject of my ramble. 

As I watched the first episode I think I counted at least three different story lines all concluded within the first half hour. It was as if the makers thought that they had to keep their target audience looking at the screen as anything too long winded may have sent them quickly back to the mobile device of their choice. Children will never watch a programme that has story or a plot lasting longer than 15 minutes will they?

Well actually, yes, they will, when given the chance, as will adults, because this kind of story telling isn't confined to just children's television and isn't just confined to shorter stories, what about the really annoying plot explanations that seem to be the norm these days. 

We know why that happened!! We have just watched it! seen it unfold in front of our own eyes...guessed it was going to happen about 10 minutes ago...we don't need an explanation!! We know!!

The only time I can remember this happening in a programme was Scooby Doo! Every episode had the pesky kids explain to the sheriff or relevant equivalent why the guy tied up dressed as an Egyptian Mummy was the notorious bank robber all along...that worked it was part of the story. 

You want a modern example? Well what about the good Doctor? Hands up who can remember the classic six part stories? Yes, the same plot being told, expanded upon, unfolding in front of our eyes or in some cases in front of the hands which were covering our eyes! 

Who can remember being on the edge of their seat or rather peeping from the back of their seat as the Doctor or one of his companions looked to be doomed and then...the music boomed out and the credits rolled and we children and adults had to think about the story, the plot and try to,guess what next Saturday tea time would bring. Not now. 

As with much new television these days we now have one story episodes of the Doctor except for the miraculously timed end of series which magically transforms into a two parter. Is it true then that we cannot follow a plot for more than 40-45 minutes now? No, it isn't. 

The issue came to light internationally a few years ago with the film Inception. 

Complaints emerged about how it could never work as no one would understand it, the audience would get bored. 

Well one massive box office smash later proved them wrong again. 

I wish the new look International Rescue well in its return though if I need a fix of Tracy Island I will revert back to the original no the tense one story episodes and hope that TV and film makers realise that if challenged we can keep our concentration for longer than the gap between advertisements. 

They Still Cost Nothing

Today I had the pleasure, if that's the right word, of travelling to Middlesborough for the day with work. Now before any Teesiders reading this block me this is not about your home town.

I journeyed there on the train which I have done before.

I began my trip at Widnes station and found my pre booked seat no trouble and settled down for the first leg to Manchester.

Now like all the trains from around 6:30am to 9am from Widnes to Manchester Piccadilly this one was rather popular and populated, this is mainly due to the ridiculously sparse timetable to the main Manchester station. However this morning I had my seat and all was well until...the first stop at Warrington. Here the train gets not just very full but sardine like.

I was sat by the window and I was joined by another chap and surrounded by guys on their sleepy way to Manchester or beyond, the carriage was then populated by the unfortunate folks who were in the last row of the 6 deep crowd waiting for the train, these were in single file standing, now begins the real subject of my ramble.

The person nearest the group of seats to me standing up was a lady.

Now, my first instinct was....no not that you dirty Devils... Was to offer her my seat, but, I would have had to have moved a whole ruck of people whose first instinct was obviously different to mine as they never flinched.

Now this got me thinking, was I being too old fashioned? Was my instinct wrong? Was I expecting too much from people and what would the lady have said if I had have offered her the seat, considering she was at least 25 years younger than me and much fitter, not on that way!! Tut tut.

These thoughts occupied me all the way to Manchester and though I wouldn't have forgotten about them they were re enforced by several incidents of the same kind later in the day.

A man allows a lady to go first onto the train with a heavy case only to be pushed away by another chap once the lady was on board, then people jumping in front of a lady waiting to order a drink and totally ignored her until I mentioned it. Then on my final train back tonight a repeat of the first situation.

So my question is are manners dead?

I go back to my questions of expectations, instincts, old fashioned, I have to answer that no I'm not old fashioned, no my instincts weren't wrong and no my expectations are not too high.
But I have to ask the question...am I in a minority? Do ladies expect gents to offer them their seats? Open and hold doors for them etc etc? And even if they don't expect it is it right I should feel I should do it? I know in these days of equality and burned bras that some men say they want equality so they have it! Nope...not right, in my view.

This comes down to something very basic...manners.

They still cost nothing, free, gratis...maybe people should remember how they would like to be treated themselves.

I'd be very interested from both ladies and gents reading this as to whether I'm right or wrong.

Broadcasting The Wrong Message

Cast your minds back to your school days.

Come on...it's not that long ago!

Remember play time? Remember the big loud mouth bully who prowled the play ground in search of victims, usually smaller, quieter and more vulnerable than anyone else?

You remember him or her as this was certainly not a male domain and how they tormented and annoyed and generally did what they wanted for they knew that they were also the top scorer in the football team or the bruiser in the pack at rugby or in a lot of cases the star pupil, so they also knew that the staff and more importantly the head teacher would continually overlook their "banter" and "horseplay" because if they were disciplined or expelled the school would suffer, stuff the victim, save the school.

So, have you all got that thought in your head? Sadly it doesn't stop at school.
Colleges, universities, industries, factories, shops, NHS, schools, the list goes on, fortunately in more and more areas these people are being dealt with, I did say more though, not all.

It seems that in the world of "entertainment" the popular person with the biggest mouth and full range of small minded little England "banter" and apparent "horseplay" is allowed to do whatever from the governors, who put ratings before decency and who are encouraged by people who really should know better ignoring the offence or rather offences...in favour of their "hero".

And this has nothing to do with political correctness, it's all to do with fairness. If any of you who added a signature to an online petition today acted like your hero in your own work I'm afraid you wouldn't be working today because, quite rightly, you would have been disciplined, and if on a final warning, once investigated and proven, dismissed.

Going back to our playground bully, I can't imagine him/her dashing to their laptop to sign a petition on your behalf, they would probably be eagerly waiting for your replacement so they can start their "banter"all over again...

A Short Space Of Time

This week I celebrated a significant birthday.

Depending how you look it I am now 5 decades old, 50 years old or half a century old.

I think we can get rid of that last one but it got me thinking about the different ways looking at things can influence how you feel and your outlook on life. I'll try and explain through some pictures and comparisons on how far we have come in such a short space of time, there's the first positive.

 I was born in this street, Wilson Street St Helens Lancashire on the 2nd February 1965. This shocked my mum who was in hospital at the time...

The house was a 2 up 2 down terrace house, two bedrooms and two rooms downstairs, the two downstairs rooms didn't include a toilet, that was about 20 yards away from the back door at the bottom of a yard. That's the first change, fortunately in the UK outside toilets seem to be a thing of the not so distant past...thank goodness. 

The downstairs front room had,until I was around the age of 4, an open coal fire, the coal was stored in a hole adjacent to the previously mentioned outside loo. 

The advent of North Sea or natural gas was a massive step forward though gas vans seemed to take 

up loads of my playing out space in the street for a long time as fitters installed gas fires and changed 

pipes to cookers etc... Another big change. 

Something else that some readers may not recognise is this piece of furniture above. This is a radiogram and we had one very similar. It was fantastic with speakers that would be the envy of anything today. It had a great function on it that enabled you to stack 7 singles or albums if you were brave and it automatically played the next single once the current one had finished, no shuffle mind or skip function but revolutionary for its day. 

When I think about how I listen to my music now and the fact that it is stored digitally in a cloud somewhere the short time span seems incredible.  

Speaking of digital technology, this is a picture of a 500mb hard drive being lifted on to a plane in the 1960s...500MB! I am writing this on a 16GB iPad resting it on my knee on the sofa...now that's progress in a short space of time! 

One more example of progression, this was the first video player I used back in 1979, it weighed a ton! And had tape recorder buttons as you can see. I remember having to save up to buy blank tapes as they were around £9.99 for 3 hours! We were lucky as well as had expert advice on choosing VHS rather than Betamax or Phillips...picked the right horse there. 

The short space of time was again illustrated in conversations with my son when he was around 4 or 5 and watching the first cartoon network channels and getting into Scooby Doo et al. "Did you watch Cartoon Network dad?" 

"No son it wasn't around then" "

 you watched Scooby Doo though? " 

"Oh yes every Tuesday after school"

"What if you missed it? Bet you had to tape it or watch the reaper"

"Err nope, if you missed it, you missed it, no repeat and no videos either"

Silence,  as this concept took some thinking it was only around 30 years since I had been that age! 

I could go on about the many many different changes that have happened since 1965, colour tv, satellite TV, man on the moon, the Internet, medical treatments, the list is almost endless.

Not all have been good or as useful as they could have been and there are still areas where improvements need to be made and are frustratingly slow in coming particularly in medicine. 

However the changes that have occurred have been amazing and have happened, I'm glad to say, over a very short period of time...I wonder what I'll put into my centenary blog? 

Spare A Penny For The Karaoke Guv'nor

Over the past months I have had the chance, if that's the right word,to visit and witness the sights and sounds of a good few towns and cities.

It is with the sounds that I would like to concentrate on.

As a music lover and a former amateur tunesmith I have noticed a real and unfortunate decline in the traditional art of busking.

If you cast your minds back just a decade or so ago the streets,subways, alleys, in fact any spare piece of pavement was occupied by a chap or chapess and their guitar, open case,if they were lucky, on the floor or maybe their hat strategically opened to be able to hold the odd bit of change their efforts rewarded them.

Now at this point I'll repeat part of the scene, the person and their guitar...period.

What you heard was either their talent or their need to practice a bit more but it was them!

Various songs presented with varying degrees of success but you admired the effort and in a lot of cases the talent.

Let me bring you up to date and I'll use the example of my nearest city, Liverpool, though I could pick any of a dozen visited over the past months.

The main musical noise to be heard now in Liverpool, home of the Beatles and some of the greatest exponent of the guitar ever, is that of a cheap and tacky backing track which wouldn't seem out of place on the earliest singalong computer games.

In front of these machines are people who wouldn't know one end of a guitar from another and pretend to play and unfortunately not pretend to sing along to the tape.

Novelty at first, pain and sad now.

The voice and guitar can't really compete with extra volume generated by the karaoke kings.

It's like that worse nightmare at a party when the karaoke comes out and you know that the same person will hog it all night pausing only to remind everyone that they should be on The Voice.

Live music seems to have been relegated to the certain pubs or rooms with participants regarded as enthusiasts...real shame.

And it's not just live music that is suffering.

My other old hobby of DJ seems to be in the doldrums as well, a wedding I attended had a DJ armed not with discs but yep you guessed it a karaoke machine into which he and he alone sang all night, it was truly awful.

Karaoke was fun when it first arrived but now it seems no one can do anything without the backing track to support them...hardly surprising I suppose when TV programmes such as X Factor are just a glorified karaoke night.

It's time for our guitar toting musicians to hit the streets early, grab the best spots, grip your plectrums and get playing again, let's push karaoke back to where it belongs...behind closed doors.

Keeping Abreast Off The News

Now as those of you who have had the misfortune to stumble across or even read these rambles will know I am no prude.

So it may surprise some people to read that I was not totally disappointed to hear that the nations favourite alternative to Andrex is seemingly ditching the image usually reserved for the first inside page of its daily comic. 

So why I hear you yawn are you not disappointed? Well I am looking at this from a slightly different angle which is my want.  

This publication is thrust upon the public every day under the guise of being a newspaper, it isn't, so let's get that out of the way first. It then aims itself at the so called working man, another myth, but, a little closer to the truth, a word not normally associated with it, as males are in the vast majority the ones attracted to the image. 

It then in many cases takes the moral high ground and lectures to its masses, whilst looking to take their minds off their drivel by distracting it with an image that goes against what they preach. 

Images like these can be found everywhere on the Internet, so I'm told...ahem...so would there be any other reason to continue this practice? Maybe that is why it will continue on their online edition. 

But it may now challenge the printed copy to raise its game. There is no distraction, there is no skipping the front page and the pointless comment and opinion to gawp at something before turning to the back pages and read about Chelsea or Man U, it may now have to put something reasonable and dare I say accurate inside its pages...I live in hope, but I can't help feeling they may have boobed. 

Happy New Year?

Well...is it 2016 yet?

I write this at the end of the first full week of 2015 and what a week! 

I mentioned at the end of my final blog of last year that we went into 2015 hoping for better but I had my doubts...within days those doubts were confirmed.

It has been a horrible week.

I am not going to linger on the horrific events across the channel as we have all seen and heard more than enough of those scary 48 hours...and thoughts go out to all who lost their lives. 

What I will say though is surely now it is time to for everyone to stand back, take a breath and realise that unity is the biggest weapon we all have...

Just as sickening in my opinion were the attempts by some to use the tragedy for their own ends and promote the devision that is so dangerous. Blogging and tweeting about immigration, multiculturalism and putting it forward as a cause of what happened is truly loathsome. 

Creating even more fear, paranoia and mistrust is really useful isn't it? 

And if anyone is being swayed by the tasteless self promotion have a read of this from Dickens and ponder over it...

There are some upon this earth of yours,' returned the Spirit, 'who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name; who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us.

On a more trivial topic the new year has started for myself with someone giving me a late Christmas present of some kind of virus...apparently there are around 5 different virus' doing the rounds at the moment which is a bit scary as I have only had the one...so I was encouraged to read that there could be a new anti biotic on the way...all we need now is to be able to see someone who can prescribe it before the virus goes on its own. 

I did make a kind of resolution to make these blogs less of a rant in 2015... So I will always try to include something trivial but factual...so last Sunday before the virus invaded I was heading into town in the old horseless wagon. 

My route includes several roundabouts. 

I reached the first roundabout at an unfortunate time as I had to wait for at least 15 vehicles of various descriptions, sizes, colours and drivers...all different but with one thing in common...their vehicles appeared to all have either, no indicators, or all their bulbs had gone, what a coincidence! Or is  the cynic in me correct in thinking that they weren't being used? Perish the thought...although as 80% of them were also in the wrong lane for the exit they were taking I do tend to believe my cynicism. 

None of us are perfect drivers, I have been driving now for longer than I care to remember 30years+ and what I am going to suggest frightenes me as much as anyone...but could it be time for a refresher session every 10 years or so? 

I realise that this would exempt drivers of BMWs and Audi's as I am aware that their cars are not fitted with indicator lights at all. 

Happier New Year to you all...