Neighbours

We're moored in Messina, Sicily at the moment. Sun's beating down out of an azure sky and I'm bound for the bar on the top deck of this ship.

So far from home, we got talking to an old couple. It turns out he went to school about 500 yards from my front door !! Later we were talking to one of the crew and she turns out to live about 1 mile away from us. Small world indeed.

Tuxedo night was a laugh. Pointless though. I guess its just for prats who belive that shaking the Captain's hand and having a photo taken will impress the friends and relatives when they return.

Went as far up Mount Etna as you can get this morning. Alien landscape ! Full of big, insistent flies.

17p a minute this Internet access is costing me - God bless broadband.

Sail on Sailor

Yo ! Technology ! Here I am, somewhere in the middle of the Med, blogging !

So far its been quite an experience - one that I've never had before. Not half as formal as I originally thought it would be. Although tonight is tuxedo night. I confess I'm not looking forward to that but, who knows - it might turn out to be a good laugh.

Valetta, Malta tomorrow so we'll have to get to bed a lot earlier than gone 3:00am which it was last night. I didn't wake till 12:00 today. Had to have a beefburger for breakfast.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Well that's work finished for 2 weeks and tomorrow at 7:20 I fly to Palma to rendezvous with the ship that'll take us round the Med. So this might be my last Blog for a fortnight. Unless, of course, I get the urge then it'll be *Internet Cafe here I come*.

Before I go I have to mention this. Sounds like Homer Simpson was running the USA press department. Or am I being too harsh on Springfield's finest Nuclear Safety Officer ?

Hang the DJ

Steve Wright (of 'in the afternoon' fame) is an annoying little prick. Why do people think that he - and his posse - have an ounce of talent ? They don't. It's an old, tired and shabby format. Well past its sell-by date. Dump the format and dump the show.

While we're at it, I wish somebody would tell him how to pronounce 'epitome'.

There, I feel better now.

Why ?

I started this Blog on the 19th March. After a few hiccups I think I've finally found something I can relate to. I've often tried to keep a journal before but have always failed to keep it up. Taking a Blog on, though, gives you a certain amount of responsibility. You feel as though you have a 'readership' that hangs on your every word. Although - judging from the lack of comments and the pitiful figures in my stats, there's nobody out there gives a shit whether I blog or not. But, I don't think that's the point. I know I'm beginning to rely on this medium just to relax, unwind and talk bollox.

Its not a 'Diary' though is it ? No 'woke up this morning, the weather was changeable. Had to go and get a present for Jennifer's birthday. Met Alan down at the precint. Discussed World affairs and Mr Slater's swelling.....' Blogs are more......I don't know....like commentaries on World affairs, with links to the actual commentaries. Consequently future social historians will not have to put in endless months of research into the historical context of the Blogger's entries. Its all linked you see ! Piece 'o' piss.

That's what worries me though: all this linking to other sites. In 20 years time we will probably be able to access Blogs such as this via some medium that delivers it on demand. An opportunity for us all to access the thoughts and smart-alecness of , literally, millions of Bloggers. I just think a lot of it won't make sense, because all the links will more than likely be dead and gone. The BBC might keep an archive - and put the effort in to catologue the news stories that we link to, but how many other sites can we say the the same about ? Read any learned tome that relates to the past, especially when relying on documentary evidence such as journals, diaries etc., and it soon becomes apparent that there is a lot of conjecture going on. Admittedly based on usually thorough research of the period in question but, nonetheless - conjecture it is.

There's a dissertation, probably MANY dissertations, being written at this very moment, trying to understand the explosion in Blogging. Is it just 'diary-keeping' in cybersapce ? Or a completely new means of expression ? Personally I plump for the latter with a trace of the former thrown in for good measure. The main difference between the two is the public arena that we call the Web. A diary was generally hidden, locked and - in the case of Sam Pepys and others - written in code. A Blog, by its very nature, is in the public domain the minute it's published. Even if it's private, in the sense that, like mine, my close family/friends know nothing of it, it still exists...out there...in cyberspace. One day they may discover it, who knows. Till then.......

So, would Sam Pepys have Blogged ? Well, if we ignore the obvious danger of committing one's thoughts about politics etc., during such turbulent, and bloodthirsty, times, I would have to take the view that Sam wouldn't have Blogged. Let's face it - he wrote in code !! I wonder if he ever re-read them ? I often wonder if any other Bloggers out there bother to re-read ? Me I aim to print all this out one day and keep it on a good ol'-fashioned medium - called paper. This here cyberspace reminds me too much of an Etch-O-Sketch. (No link provided; future historians - if any - will have to do the research like what proper Academics do !)

Late in the Evening

I should have posted this last evening (Monday), but the vagaries of BT, my PC and my inability to remeber I'd actually typed it (due to alcoholic intake), meant that I didn't. Anyway - here it is:-

God I?m getting pissed off with this PC ?o? mine tonight. Windows Media Player keeps grabbing all the resources, BT Internet doesn?t seem to want to play ball and I can?t get to sleep, again.

So what?s been happening apart from the events at Maine Road ?

Well Clare Short has finally resigned and apparently delivered a speech to the house that was on a par with Geoffrey Howe?s back in 1990. If you remember, most political commentators at that time said it was the death knell for Thatcher. Most of the rest of us didn?t believe it ? I mean she had been in power for ever, and who would have the audacity to stand against her ? Well, maybe Heseltine. But we all knew he had a LOT of enemies in the Tory Party.

History proved the commentators right and the rest of us inadequate in our analyses. None of us expected John Major though. Did we ?

Can?t see Clare being the Brutus to Blair?s Caesar though. Although......I may be wrong again. Let?s face it, Gordon is not only chomping at the bit, but he is still bearing a grudge over Tony?s promise to step down after a while and let him have a bite of the cherry. Watch this Space !!

Over in Iraq, Shi?ites are welcoming an exiled Imam who?s been holed up in Iran for the past umpteen years. He represents a Revolutionary Islamic Party (something like that anyway ? can?t check with no internet access can I ?). He?s obviously an important player and the good ol? US of A are trying to pretend that hey !....that?s fine...that?s democracy..if that?s what the people want then...fair enough....that?s what the people will get. So, that?s OK then, just what the world needs: another fundamentalist religious government. Thanks George, cheers Tony. How long before we?re looking at ?regime changes? again ?? Was there a plan do you think ? I mean did ANYONE sit down before charging in and think ?hmmmm what could be the possible scenarios we may be looking at once we oust Saddam ? Doesn?t look like it does it ?

Mind you it?s the same in Afghanistan. Its that bad that the Taliban are starting to raise their bigoted heads again and, by all accounts, are growing in confidence day by day. As this article relates:-

HIGHTOWER: The Return of the Taliban By Jim Hightower, AlterNetApril 29, 2003

They're back. The Taliban. Remember them ? the repressive and murderous regime of religous fanatics that ruled Afghanistan and shielded Osama bin Laden?

You might remember, too, that George W promised only a couple of years ago that he was going to bomb the Taliban to smithereens, "smoke out" ol' Osama, and "liberate" the people of Afghanistan ? using U.S. military might to usher in a bright new day of democracy for this forlorn land.

But only 18 months after being ousted by Bush's bombs and our troops ? heeeeeerrre comes the Taliban right back in, having revived its command structure and begun to reassert its brutish power over the people. Prior to going to war with the Taliban, the Bushites had loudly proclaimed that they were not just going in with bombs, but afterwards would deliver on a plan for reconstruction of the nation's infrastructure. Notice that this is the same thing the Bushites have now promised to the Iraqi people.

One of the top leaders of the new government that the Bushites set up after the Afghan war now says: "What was promised to the Afghans with the collapse of the Taliban was a new life of hope and change. But what was delivered? Nothing."

Indeed, Bush bolted for Bahgdad. Meanwhile, instead of a flowering democracy in Afghanistan, thieving warlords and a rise of Taliban vigilantism is the rule of the day. The Bushites had promised millions of dolllars to create a local police authority that could stabilize the country, but these police went unpaid for months and have drifted away.

Interestingly, the Taliban launched its comeback from safe havens in neighboring Pakistan. You might recall that Pakistan, itself ruled by a brutal military dictator, is warmly welcomed by the Bushites as an "ally" in their perpetual global crusade against "evildoers." What a sticky web they weave.

Bombs alone can't bring democracy ? whether in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, or whatever other country is next on Bush's list.

So, like I said earlier, thanks George, cheers Tony. well done.

Early Saturday morning my Dearest and I are flying off to Palma to rendezvous with the Cruise Liner Sunbird, whereupon we will be transported, at a leisurely pace, across the Med to such exotic ports of call as Naples, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, Malta and finally back to Palma.

Not that we?ve received our tickets yet !!

Airtours/MyTravel we booked it through. Not that we?re worried or anything. I mean its only cost us £1,000s, and I?m sure such a big travel company, with such a good reputation wouldn?t be likely to ? y?know ? go bust or anything. I mean their share price has just rallied (slightly) to something wonderful like 2.5 pence. (I exaggerate for effect). So everything must be tickety-boo.

Surely ???

Stairway to Heaven

So, George and Tony do their bit in Iraq so the rest of us can sleep safely in our beds because we have reduced the threat of terrorist activity. I reckon someone should have told Al-Qaeda. Three more off to Valhalla to collect their virgins and who knows how many blasted back to stardust.

Saudi Arabia ? What complexion of Government do you think they would have if 'free and fair' elections were held there ? I don't think its one that George and Tony would approve of that's for certain.

Sad news this morning that Noel Redding ex Hendrix bassist and Fat Mattress frontman has shuffled off this mortal coil and the young age of 57. I remember being absolutely enthralled by The Jimi Hendrix Experience when I first saw them one Saturday evening back in the sixties on the Lulu show - of all things. They played live and halfway through 'Hey Joe' Hendrix stopped and started playing 'Sunshine of your Love' as a tribute to Cream who had just split up. I remember Lulu having to shout over the end credits 'cos they wouldn't stop playing. Many letters from 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells' followed because it was an afront to The Queen, Lord Reith, Great Britain and the Empire. Us young 'uns thought it was fecking wonderful.

Later in life I read about Noel in Pete McCarthy's 'McCarty's Bar'. An excellent read by the way. He was living in some small village in Ireland and used to get up and play with a few acquaintences in the local pub. Apparently his mother lived there and he frequently flew over to see her.

Every Time We Say Goodbye

So. That was it ! End of an era. 80 years of history now at the mercy of the bulldozers waiting, like hyenas, to feed off the carcass of Maine Road. I must confess that I thought I would have been more emotional about the day, but, in the end, I found it quite prosaic.The most moving moments were when Shaun Goater bid farewell to the fans after 5 years with the club.

If ever there was an ambassador for the club, it is Shaun. Never complains, just gets on with the job. Back home in he is so revered that they even have special Shaun Goater day (June 21). For the last game at Maine Road he was given the honour of captaining the side for his last match in a City shirt.

  The Kippax Stand rears above the back-to-backs of Moss Side

As we arrived at the ground there was a jazz band, a steel band, face painters galore, people in costumes as varied as blue nuns, various Elvis’s, a Viking and many, many others were lurking about. Some were happy as clams, others seemed bemused, still others looked stunned and a little wistful.

 Elvis will soon be entering the building.

As we entered the back of the Kippax we were asked by a straight-faced copper if we had: “inadvertently left a screwdriver or knife or some such in our pockets”? We were then searched (in my case, for the first time since 1969 or so). Inside fans were wanderin’ about carrying armfuls of programs, pints in hand and smiles on faces. Others were photographing everything they could. Toilets, bars, stairs, walls everything.

 Fresh graffiti on this Kippax gate.

Eventually we made our way to our seats after acquiring two of the last programs still on sale inside the ground. (£5 !). On the back of the seat in front was a plastic bag with a Mars bar inside and some bumph regarding opportunities to avail oneself of a plate !!

We saw the last part of the ‘Parade of :Legends’. John Bond, Gary Owen, Ian Brightwell, Gio Kinkladze, Brian Horton and others.

Then the game itself. Another one of those teams with a combative midfield that we just couldn’t break down. We concede a goal from a set piece (again !!!!!), and the last ever game at Maine Rd ends with a defeat. After that the team came out and Shaun and Peter were presented with crystal ware to commemorate their careers at Maine Rd and, in Peter’s case, his career in football.

  The 'Goat' says farewell.

After the lap of honour the festivities descended into farce. A band called the Blues Brothers were introduced to the sound of the entire ground chanting “who the feckin hell are you”. At that point we left.

Why the club felt the need to put ‘entertainment’ on is beyond me. As far as I’m concerned they should have just kept it to football related matters. The Blues Brothers were presumably on the pitch because the word ‘Blue’ was in their name. Badly Drawn Boy and The Doves who came on later are City fans – so what ?And as for the Oasis covers band ‘Champagne Supernova’???? The only reason they were on is because they sing songs by a band whose 2 main men support City.

  The Blues Brothers strut their stuff to the sound of 'Who the F@*!*@## are you'.

So, in the end it all felt a damp squib to me. No doubt the emotions will overtake me when they actually start demolishing Maine Rd. Now that I will find hard to take.

Spare a thought for all those chippies, offies and kebab shops. They’ll feel the loss of the ground more than most; businesses going to the wall in 12 months from now I reckon.

And Now...The End is Near.....

Well. A footballing weekend beckons. Today, my dearest and I are off to Boundary Park to watch Oldham play QPR in the first of the 2nd Division play-off semi-finals. Should be a laugh as we’re going with the Sunday afternoon drinking club. Meeting int’t’Willow at 1:00pm for pre-match alcohol.

Then tomorrow: the big one ! The last ever match at Maine Road. Apparently there’s going to be a parade of legends before the game and a concert after it. Considering the concert is by a Blues Brothers tribute band and The Doves, I think I’ll give that part of the festivities a miss. I shall take a quiet moment to reflect on nearly 40 years experience of the ground.

I might even shed a tear or two.

Rainbow Chaser

I picked up a copy of Uncut today. Y’know the ‘Music, Movies, DVDs, Books and True Tales of Rock’n’Roll’ magazine that always has a free CD on the cover.

Anyway, the CD this month is a rather delicious amalgam of psychedelic classics from the UK underground. Syd Barrett, The Move, Kevin Ayers, The Nice etc., with tracks such as ‘Granny Takes a Trip’, ‘Once Upon the Seas of Abyssinia’ and ‘My White Bicycle’.

All guaranteed to make you ‘Tune in, turn on and drop out’ and all free ! I can remember when CDs were like investments (apparently they last forever). ‘Throw away your ancient vinyl’ they cried, ‘CDs are the future. They’re indestructible. Throw them on the floor, walk on them, toss them to one side without the cover on. They’ll still be good as new in a 1,000 years’. Yeah they should be as well. The price we are paying now is bad enough compared with other parts of the world, but, back in ’84 – ’85 when they first appeared they were astronomically priced – in real terms.

I very rarely buy CDs from anywhere but the web these days. Its not as much fun though, as being on a restricted budget, systematically going through racks and racks of LPs, trying to find the one that was worth the cash you’d scraped together. Many a time buying stuff you’d never heard. Taking a chance and sometimes losing – a crap ‘Faust’ album springs to mind. But sometimes winning: Zappa, Hugh Masekela and Tom Waits for example, all became staples of my listening pleasure as a result of similar leaps of faith.

I can feel myself coming over all ‘Good-Old-Days-ish’, so I guess I better button it and open my MP3 player and get down to the groovy sounds on my hard drive. Y’know, not long ago, none of us would have a fecking clue what that last sentence meant. Progress eh ?

Woke Up This Mornin'....

.....Blue as blue can be.  I've not improved much either.  So here I am in the wee small hours drinking and blogging and thinking.

Here's my portrait of Larry Hagman that I took off the tv and buggered about with.  Hell, he looks tired, sad and old.

Blood and Flesh and Bone.

On top of that Man United have clinched the Premiership.  All analyses of the season point to City's thrashing of them back in Novemeber as the turning point in their season.  Apparantly it galvanised them to such an extent that they didn't lose another game after Xmas.

Still, I should cheer up as the week progresses.

 

Relax A decent chill-out day today. We had arranged to meet our Sunday afternoon drinking partners in'T'Willow - but the bloody thing was shut. I wasn't that upset though as I felt a surfeit of ale and food creeping up on this, increasingly, flabby body. A body that is hurtling towards its 49th year ! 6 of us went for a curry at The Westwood East Bangladeshi Restaraunt in Oldham on Saturday night. The beauty of the place is that the food is great, its large so you can always (more or less) guarantee getting a table and it doesn't have a licence for intoxicating liquor. Consequently you can take your own: and, furthermore they don't charge "corkage". This makes for a cheap - and drunken - night out. Saturday we had: poppadoms, 6 starters, 3 bombay potatoes, 4 pilau rice, 2 onion rice, 1 nan, 6 main courses and 2 sweets for £74. I reckon the booze consumed probably added another £100 to the bill - but hey ! Life is for living to the full - as I discovered on Sunday when I couldn't get my head off the pillow until 5:30pm. Just in time for the pub as it happens. So, instead of today's trip to the hostelry I read an Ian Rankin Inspector Rebus novel that someone has lent me. It's the first one "Knots and Crosses". It didn't repulse me, I found it an easy read but, I can't see what all the fuss is about...yet. Perhaps he improves with later instalments. Anyway I'll give him another try as I've ordered an omnibus from Amazon. I'll be able to read it on my hols. For the first (and possibly last) time in my life I'm going on a cruise round the Med. I've actually been and acquired a "DJ", bow tie and the rest. Should be an eye-opener if nothing else. The boat (ship ?) has got an internet cafe as well so, if I feel the pull of the blog strong enough, I may even become "blog on the road". We'll see - I don't go for a fortnight yet. If we enjoy it we've got our eye on a cruise to St Petersburg next year.

Certain Surprise Manchester City eh ? One week they're playing like a bunch of 3rd formers, the next beating Liverpool 2-1 (Anelka got both against his old club). 8th in the Premiership now. Another win next week in the last ever league game at Maine Road and that should be where we'll end up.

Split* "Well, early indications would appear to indicate, that indications would appear to point to the fact that all the indications are that we have performed magnificently. A party in power, indeed a party that has been defending one of the highest number of seats since time began. BNP ? well *ahem*, let's not talk about them. That would give them credibility. As I've said, the early results would seem to indicate that all indications point to a share of the vote that previous indications would appear to have suggested we would have been hard-pressed to attain. To lose less seats than the indications would have appeared to indicate - prior to the recent indications - can be construed (and even convoluted) as, nothing short of a magnificent victory." "I am a teapot" Hmmmmmmm...Oldham politicians - of all political shades - have had to attempt to dismiss huge gains, tonight, by a Party who's Agenda is, essentially, racist. The same in Burnley where - for the first time in British political history - I would have thought, it looks like Racists are going to become the official party of opposition !!!! Its a protest vote apparently !! For God's sake get a grip. Germany - early 30s. Hitler did not campaign on a platform of World War and Final Solutions. Eventually though, Germany got them. For crying out loud: Labour, Liberal-Democrat and Tory: stop fecking about and provide a credible alternative that deals with the fears and worries of the people who are voting for neo-Fascists. Because, believe me, they are ordinary people who think (rightly or wrongly) that they are being discriminated against. And don't - for Christ's sake - refer to them as 'misguided' Sort it, or forever regret your inability to see past the next TV camera or Newspaper interview. For all their faults, its times like these that cry out for a George Orwell, James Cameron or even Gore Vidal. Times like these require someone with the courage, guts and intelligence to sort the truth from the lies and pin the solution like a, still-fluttering, moth on a board. There are powerful forces at play: cultural, religious and political. There are powerful players, with powerful media outlets, being insidiously powerful. Vigilance - Please !! * The Groundhogs 1970 :-)

Elected !

Well....it’s that time of the year again. Local democracy once more rears its bloodied and battered head and sticks it forlornly over the parapet.

I must to admit to once being fascinated by all the swings, predictions, shocks and late night TV associated with politics both local and national, but, these days its all I can do to muster the strength to walk to polling booth. The fact that its just over the road from my local makes it feel a little churlish though, not to pop in and do my bit as I head bar-wards.

The reason for my lethargy is probably echoed all over the country. In a word: Spin !

There hasn’t been any passion in politics for such a long time. Now its been hijacked by managerial consultants and their ilk who have brought business-bollox-speak to a committee room near you. Psephologists can pontificate and speculate about the reasons for the continuing drop in turnout year after year, but the ordinary punter is wise enough to hear absolute patronising crap when s/he hears it......and votes with his/her feet !

Here in North Manchester things are probably going to be a little different this year though. In Oldham there are a record number of BNP and NF candidates standing in a borough that, a mere two years ago, was ablaze with race riots.

There’s no doubt in my mind that if the mainstream Parties don’t address perceived grievances – in some cases even stifle debate about them for fear of appearing ‘politically incorrect’, then they shouldn’t be surprised when other Parties (no matter how odious their views) hove into view promising solutions.

One thing’s for sure, tomorrow’s election should be a damn site more interesting than they have been for the past 10 years or so.

It would be sad though if Oldham Athletic gain promotion to the 1st division at the same time as the electorate of Oldham vote neo-Fascists into the council chamber.

Taxman

My mother and father have been retired a good few years. My Dad spends his days at home still trying to come to terms with the PC my youngest built for him a few years ago. My Mam has always needed to keep busy and she frequently does a little part-time work in the industry she spent her life in (upholsterer’s machinist).

Last November she was approached by an Upholsterer who worked for a Facilities Management company that renovated pubs. They provided all the craftsmen and women, Labour etc., that could turn a tired old pub into a tired, new shadow of its former self. You know the type of thing: false Olde Worlde charm, prints on the wall and pints of cold lager on the bar.

Anyway, this went on until last month when my Mam parted company with them. All the time she had worked there they deducted the full rate of income tax with NO allowances whatsoever.

“Don’t worry Mam” I said, “we’ll claim it all back – you’ll have quite a tidy little sum coming. Could arrive in time for your holidays”

We went on the Inland Revenue website and extracted the relevant information.

With a bit of luck we will have understood and filled in the form, posted it to Fife Inland Revenue Office (they look after the Manchester area !), replied to – no doubt – numerous queries emanating from that corner of Scotland and finally received the relevant monies due by.........ooooh.........2005 I reckon.

So to whoever it is who writes the pamphlets that are supposed to help, as well as those who actually formulate the forms that people need to fill in to claim anything, I’ll repeat the quote from Pete Seeger I referred to a couple of weeks ago:-

Any damn fool can get complicated; it takes genius to keep things simple.

Hard Times

During these days of so-called enlightened management in the workplace, how nice to see that some things just never change. For a good old dose of nostalgia for anyone as long-in-the-tooth as I, today’s BBC news website takes the biscuit. The relevant bits follow:-

“Struggling steelmaker Corus is to cut 1,150 jobs as it battles to stem losses in the UK. The future of a further 2,200 workers on Teesside remains in doubt.

Sir Brian Moffatt and other senior directors faced accusations of incompetence and mismanagement during the company’s AGM. One shareholder said the Corus board of directors was the worst in the world.

He said they should resign en masse because of a series of "blunders" which had depressed the company's share value. Other speakers accused the board of showing disregard to workers who felt "alienated and let down".

The board was asked to explain why bonuses were being paid to executives this year amid huge losses and job cuts. The majority of shareholders attending the meeting in London voted against accepting the remuneration report from the company. (My italics.)

But proxy votes meant that the policy was overwhelmingly accepted.”(My italics)

Now that’s what I call taking the piss !!

Link. A Photograph of You

There was a semi-decent documentary on the, always interesting, BBC Four TV channel last night. Robert Capa, war photographer, founder of the Magnum photo agency and original champagne socialist deserved a channel with more consumer penetration, but the consumers were probably watching *absorbing* crap like this.

According to all the old women interviewed, and contemporary accounts from the likes of Capa’s one-time lover Ingrid Bergman, he was a good-looking, sensual and sensitive man. Sadly – I felt – the doc concentrated just a little too much on this aspect of his short life.

He was an extremely brave man and one of those photographers whose photographs many will recognise. From the first wave of landings in Normandy 1944, to the early blitzkriegs of the Spanish Civil War, Capa observed and recorded the major wars of the twentieth century. He finally shuffled off his mortal coil after standing on a land mine in Vietnam.

I’ve ordered his biography – should make good reading.

Stormy Weather

Some exceptionally impressive thunderstorms today in North Manchester, with more promised.

Art for Art's Sake

As myself and my eldest returned from Maine Rd yesterday, we walked through Whitworth Park. At the Oxford Rd end of this park lies Whitworth Art Gallery. At the back of Whitworth Art Gallery we spotted two policemen looking relaxed and enjoying a chat during a brief period of sunshine that had blessed an otherwise slate grey day. At first I thought "are they having a crafty smoke ?", but then I thought "no its probably just scrotes have been trying to break in through the back door to steal something to fuel their drug habit". It was only as we got closer I noticed two women crouching by the door with the paraphanelia of fingerprint-dusting laid out around them.

Later, as we listened to the news, we realised it had been this audacious theft we had walked past. I must say if someone had succesfully purloined pictures by three of the masters of 19th and 20th century art on my patch, I would have tried to have looked a little less calm and composed. The mini masterpieces were later found, after a tip-off, in a local public toilet.

It beggars belief that whoever did it thought they could easily sell the stuff. But what I find even more unbelievable is that there's still a public toilet open in Manchester !

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

So, last night at about 4:30am, my Dearest decides to go downstairs to get a glass of water. Deep in the fug of sleep, I can hear someone punching in the 4 number code for our burglar alarm. I then hear the beep that indicates the wrong code has been entered. Seconds later - the same again. By this time I'm fully awake and thinking "do that wrong again and the alarm will go off".

Sure enough, the alarm bursts into life.

I end up having to dive out of bed, find my glasses, dressing gown and run down the stairs. After I had punched in the correct code my wife explained that: "I didn't have my glasses on and had to guess where the correct numbers were".

So my wife gets her drink of water and goes straight back to sleep. Me ? I lie there until gone 6:00am, eyes wide open, mind full of jumble and time for work fast approaching. I'm sick of being knackered.

Lazy Sunday It's a proper Mancunian Sunday in late April. Showers and leaden skies. I'm off to see the mighty Blues hopefully relegate West Ham and save Bolton from the drop. After that the, now traditional, trip T'Willow for the Sunday evening drinky-poos.

Matthew and Son (The Work’s Never Done)

Well....what a crap day at work. Firstly I had to go in early to attend a meeting in lieu of my boss. He’s picked the worst day (weather-wise) to go playing golf with my other colleague form the office - but, hey, that's life. Consequently it was just me dealing with everything.

It’s Sod’s Law though isn’t it ? The less staff, the more problems. “I need this laptop sorting today as I fly out to the States this evening”; “ This can’t possibly wait as I’ve an important presentation (yeah...right) to give in 45 mins”. Etc., Etc., Etc.

Mission Impossible

I remember a manufacturing industry where people used to manufacture stuff. Today that seems to be an alien concept. Engineering factories that were full of men, women (children ;-)) and machines. Noisy, dirty places. Teeming with people who created stuff ! You could actually understand the function of people from manager to labourer. You could grasp the nature of their toil, see what they produced and get your head round the fact what they produced – stuff – could be sold at a profit (or a loss admittedly).

The ‘manufactory’ where I have worked for so many years has now become significantly less noisy. It is painted in bright colours – even the floors. It is devoid of ‘producers’ and chock-full of middle-managers producing presentations, reports, graphs, forecasts, business-models. Paper....paper.....paper......

This results in constant re-organisation of the business. Which results in a constant search for the next “Mission Statement”.

Now don’t get me wrong – I’m all for anything that keeps the loyal worker focussed on the task in hand and, if a mission statement helps in this regard, then who am I to pooh-pooh the concept. I’m sure that all over the country people are busily discussing ‘best-practice’ and ‘being the benchmark’. I’m sure that, once the new Mission Statement has been formulated productivity increases no end. The trouble is, that productivity these days produces paper and not stuff.

The way that all this tired ‘80s business-speak bollox has filtered into our everyday lives was rammed home to me a few years ago whilst I was driving through Lancaster centre.

On the outskirts of the city there was a, frankly, struggling car-repair business. It had that look of imminent-closure-extremely-possible about it. Peeling paintwork, ancient automobiles dotted around the place and.............a Mission Statement proudly painted on a board tacked – almost as an afterthought – underneath the dilapidated “Jones and Son” sign.

“To be the benchmark for car repair that other car-repairers aspire to”.

Something like that anyway. It was gloriously comical. You could imagine Del-Boy doing the same on the side of his ‘Trotters Independent Traders’ Robin Reliant. It was patently never going to be the benchmark for anything but a business on the skids. There was a touching faith, it seemed to me, that this guy had in the nonsense that was bandied about back then. The same nonsense that brought us the ‘lunch is for wimps’ crap and the breakfast meetings that managers started calling at 6:00am to show how tough and dedicated to the company they were. Many of them now redundant of course !

I must go back to Lancaster one day to see if its still in business.

Watching The Detectives

Anybody out there read any Ian Rankin ? Inspector Rebus novels ? I've had them recommended to me, and I am deeply in need of some 'easy-ish reads' of late. I'm not usually one for crime fiction, but these sound quite intelligent.

Normally they just turn out to be whodunits. Victim pops their clogs on page 2 or 3 (or even before the book begins), and you're supposed to be interested in finding out who killed someone you never knew.