Monday's Unusual Things.

Dunmore Pineapple

In days of yore, before they were grown in tins, pineapples were extremely expensive and found only in the dwellings of the rich.  To proclaim to the world their wealth many placed such items, in stone, on their buildings.  Here John Murray, the fourth Earl of Dunmore, presented his wife Charlotte this pavilion from which to peruse their land.  The giant pineapple allowed the world to know their wealth, power and position.  She must have been pleased!  Today she would have to pose half naked in the 'Daily Mail' or 'Hello' magazine to get such fame.

Unusual Police Cars

Pleeeeeeaaasssee tell me this is real and not a spoof!  Please be a car used by a UK police force somewhere for some reasonable purpose, please!  Somehow I doubt it however.... 

Mud Flop

In Dublin, for reasons of their own, otherwise sane people indulge in what they refer to as the 'Redneck Games.'  'Mud Flop,' is clearly popular, though I would not be as close as this lot as that lass lands face down in there.  A Tsunami may sweep through the fair city after her landing!  'Big Hair,' 'Seed Spitting,' and 'Armpit Serenade,'  are apparently among the other, er, attractions.

  Unusual Tombstones

This one is the best of the lot!  Search through until you find a gravestone that suits you, not that I want you to leave mind!  Hanging around a bit more would be good in my opinion.  This fellow failed to hang about, or rather his time expired.  Maybe he should not have waited so long, or possibly moved elsewhere?  I know not!   

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Policing, Dangerous Work.

Late at night, after I finished posting yesterdays blog, it struck me how strange a job policing can be.  The girls on duty yesterday had a simple enough routine role but for such as they life could be more, er, interesting.  The lass at the top of the road blocking traffic is what they call a PCSO, a kind of lesser policewoman.  Many police officers consider this role irrelevant and want the money spent on fully qualified men on the beat however the idea is to give a (cheaper), more easily accessible individual, closer to the people, leaving proper police to get on with their job. Hmmm, while those I speak to, by choice I must say, are capable I can see a full time officers point.  
I am digressing from my thoughts.  The thoughts were that not that long ago two policewomen answered a routine call to suspicious activity at an empty house.  On arrival they were met with gunshots and a couple of hand grenades!  Both were killed.  Another copper had a gun fired in his face which blinded him a while back, numerous have been assaulted to some extent 'in the course of their duty.'  I suppose that stopping you riding the bike on the pavement, blocking the traffic at an 'incident,' or asking you why you loiter in shop doorways (admit it, you do that too!), are all troublesome to the personal freedom we all enjoy, however stopping a bank robber, a guy with a knife or risking life to save another gives a different view on things.  

What does it take to do such a job?  My father attempted to join the police after the war but in those days the minimum height rule, six foot two, stopped him by a wee bit.  he would have been an ideal copper in the forties and fifties.  Helping old women over the road, controlling yobs,  and if required dealing with drunks in pubs or men with guns.  Twice in the army, and a military policeman for a while at one point, prepared him for the job.  Today however he would not cope with the political correctness required, nor the absurd requirements put upon an officer today. There again most men of those days would feel the same.  Anyone, including some of the dafter officers, deserves some degree of credit for this job.  Few of us would take the risks, most demand them to come when called, and without delay, yet rarely d we praise them for what they do.  Maybe the corruption of those at the top, the backhanders lower down, and personal experience put us off, but without them, full proper police or PCSO's, life would be intolerable.

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Thursday, Voting Day

Billions of dollars were spent on the US election in recent days, considerably less has gone into organising today's electoral vote in England and Wales.  Scotland of course runs things differently as you will understand. No president is being sought, nor are we voting for either members of parliament or local councils.  The vote is a new one, we are choosing a man to head the local police!  Until now a local police authority has called the police to account, checking into the cheif constables behaviour and accounting for the cash spent. The Conservative government, sorry Con/Lib-Dem coalition, have decided one man is required instead.  To be frank I doubt anyone knew who was on the previous committee unless there was reason to contact them.  I suspect Cameron and his hordes believed the local authorities were all communists and require changing so he could tell them what to do, so the one man accountable to the people is introduced.  You will of course realise that few of those standing are known to the nation, fewer still are known in the locale, some may be unknown in their own house even, however the stand anyway.  A website has been laid on to supply some details of those standing, a picture, basic details, a statement of intent, and answers to some questions.  On such basic  details most of the electorate will decide.  No-one knocked on doors, no leaflets were given out, and one meeting in Chelmsford was the soul outreach I heard off.  I was the 20th person to vote early this morning, and the lowest ever turnout is expected by evening when the doors close.  Will this individual receive a mandate that makes much difference to me or most others?  No.  Still, it's democratic I suppose. 

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Caught Ya!

As I emerged from my late morning nap I espied this gent scribbling a ticket for the folks in the car here.  I am wondering what went wrong here?  Did mum break a traffic law, or did young son fling stuff from window?  I'm hoping it is a ticket for stopping on double yellow lines to collect brat from Skatepark.  I think she has done this before and has paid the penalty, and on a busy Saturday at that!  Well done Mr Polisman,  that happens too often and needs to stop.  The horn blowing and traffic congestion is a pest, well done sir!  

He looked pretty chuffed with himself afterwards, possibly his first £60 ticket I expect.  Good idea putting cops on bikes, lots of lonely pathways around here.  Had I been better clothed at the time I may not have had to snap through the closed window, hence the reflection, but had he seen me I may have got a ticket, or worse!

The football season restarted today, and naturally the Heart of Midlothian began the season with a two nil victory over St Johnstone, as I foretold,  and at this moment sit proudly where they belong at the top of the table.  Excuse me while I gloat a little.....

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Hope Springs Eternal.....

Hope sprang this afternoon after I hobbled home from my walk around the various town banks.  Being the Sabbath the banks are closed and I merely looked in the windows and allowed myself to dream for a moment.  Having done so I made my way home to my cocoa when I espied the fuzz parked outside the park!  Hooray I thought, a raid!  Visions of armour clad polis waving large truncheons practicing for Olympic duty crossed my mind.  As I approached I was disappointed to note only one vehicle parked there.  I was more disappointed when five custodians of the law sauntered from the park, no adolescent brutes gathered, no blood on their truncheons and no sign of removal of the half grown miscreants!  It appears a mere general enquiry was under way, no arrests, no reason to whine to the council, no chance of closing the park to the screeching brats, no happy thoughts after all.

Still, one day.....

I had wandered out after a morning filled with rain hammering onto the dirty window panes, an afternoon watching Celtic taking Rangers apart while avoiding shouting 'Third Division, you're having a laff' at them.  I followed this giggle by sniggering my way through Hibernian's feeble attempt to defeat a poor St Mirren side.  Oh the satisfaction of knowing that by the grace of God I was born into the Heart of Midlothian family, such joy!  Sometimes I sympathise with those lesser people not of such a privelaged life.  The rain ceasing offered an opportunity to see the outside world once again.  Sadly it had closed and I merely spent my time as  windowlicker outside the various banks.  One day I will actually be allowed inside one.  

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Park Crime

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Following on from the prison post yesterday (I almost said 'Criminal post,' but you may not have understood which one) I was confronted with police action today.  While slumbering slaving over the PC this afternoon (and by PC I mean computer not police constable) a car door slammed outside my window. Being of a nosey concerned for the good of all I looked out to check all was well. Lo and behold three coppers were running across into the park.  As I followed their progress, just in case I was required to give aid, I realised there was a huge crowd of brats, police and indeed an ambulance crew involved at the skatepark.  What with the trees and being half dressed not wearing my outer attire while at the PC I could not go down and shove my nose in  observe.


In spite of the fact that you never see one when you want one there appeared to b a dozen police wandering around today. Two sergeants, possibly a lady (?) inspector and lots of others talking to the kids there, chasing them away, and marking out an area with tape. I hoped thought at first that a knife murder may have been committed, but it may just have been some sort of accident at the skatepark. Within an hour or two it had all been cleared away, the ambulance left, the police left, and when the rain came on happily all the kids went home.  The police put a lot on community relations (community? A word constantly used but totally meaningless!) but the answer I got from that big sergeant when I asked for the details was not good relations in  my view.  Tsk! You would think that communicating with the public was important to the police, but clearly not with him!  He refused my suggestion that the 'Armed Response Group' ought to patrol the park on Saturday night, in the dark so not seen, and eradicate the noise nuisance from those using it at that time.  He refused that also!  Tsk!


I wonder, if a crime was committed, would they use the old lock up, just once?


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Tuesday Disturbed

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Yesterday I had planned a day of action. The 'to-do' list was sitting on the desk ready to go, so I went.  Naturally my fat, weary body failed me and the day was ruined.

 Today I rose early, avoided the bike and started on the 'To-do' list.

Soon the police were knocking on my door. They wished to meet my neighbour, not me and I let them in and I left them to it, although I thought he was out.

He was.

As he has been declared a 'Missing Person' the police must find and identify him before they drop the enquiry, so they smashed down the door, just in case he was dead. Have you tried to concentrate while two hulking big coppers shake the house with a battering ram? It is very difficult I can tell you.

Later, having bribed them 'News International' style with tea and half price chocolate biscuits I learned something of the tale.  He isn't missing, they just cannot find him.  He has been spotted in a public house this morning, for breakfast, but had roved on his way.

He did look scruffy when I saw him last right enough, but I thought he was off to work, it was around seven in the morning, and it appears he has no work.

He has still not returned home tonight and while the police (who keep knocking on my door) may have found and identified him in one of his watering holes, I fear he may be lying in a ditch somewhere! Surely not?  Mind you when he gets back and sees the state his door is in he may go off and find a river then!

But more, as the door was open two Jehovah's Witnesses walked in as the security conscious police had left the door open. I normally say 'Push of heretic' in a friendly sort of fashion but had began to read about them the other day (was I led into this). The was the usual twosome from the JW's, who are very active around here, one who was well trained in their 'theology' and a quiet newcomer. So I 'debated' against my better judgement in the hope of getting the quiet one to hear something different from their thoughts. This was not a good argument (and it bored the polis next door) as I failed to read all the info all the way through and relied on my memory of reading it years ago. This is not a good idea! I suspect however they will not knock on this door again. There are lots of them around here, and two Mormons walking around. These guys always cry "Hello!" being American and I always cry "Goodbye!" being me. Such chaps are forced to go 'on a mission' as if they don't there are fallouts back home. All very sad really. Mormons stand out as they insist on dressing the same as each other, very Mid West American and stand out in their blue suits, shirt and tie, among the scruffy English like a poppy in a wheat field.    

This unsettled my day, nothing has been done, or at least very little, and most of it has to be done tomorrow, police willing!

Good job I am not one to complain.....

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Diverse Police

This is an ideal 'Daily Mail' story, this time involving the Scottish Police. You will recall that it is not that long ago that the new Commissioner (head man) of the London Metropolitan police stopped a police station flying a flag for the 'lesbian & Gay' mob. This following on from the Lothian and Borders Head office at Fettes in Edinburgh also flying such a flag. Today we have the announcement of a new booklet (costing £5000) telling the policeman on duty to be nice!
Various friendly terms for women are found everywhere, in Scotland they are usually addressed as 'hen.' In the north of England 'Pet,' or 'Love' might be used. This booklet informs officers not to use such terms to lassies, I suppose they may feel 'vulnerable' or perhaps 'patronised.' Any who object to such terms in fact should be referred to as 'stupid,' 'self obsessed,' or just 'bitch,' in my view, or at least according to my experience of such females. 'Get a life' is also useful when addressing them. I am left with an image of a bobby on the beat confronted by a drunken slapper cursing him and being sick on his shoes while he endeavours to find a word to address her by without upsetting her human rights. 'Slut' maybe? The Essex Police spent a great deal of money putting the slogan 'Taking the lead in making the county safer' on their vehicles. What do they really need apart from 'Police,' or maybe 'We know where you live!'? Police constables earn between £22 - 35,000 a year yet a 'Diversity and Ethnicity Officer' post ranged from £35- 40,000 a year. Shome mishtake shurely?

Tarique Ghaffur

Tarique Ghaffur, an assistant commissioner with the Metropolitan police, and Sir Ian Blair in particular, has withdrawn his complaint for racism and accepted an out of court settlement. This unfortunate case leaves many questions unanswered, and I doubt we will see answers.

Was this man suffering racism from his senior colleagues? He had reached the second top level in the Met police, where he had served for 34 years. "In a press conference in August, he claimed he had been sidelined, discriminated against and humiliated in his role as boss of security planning for the 2012 Olympics." Is it possible to believe that the 'Institutional Racism in the Metropolitan Police' is so strong yet he was been in charge of one of the UK's biggest ever security operations. Would someone reach such a level if he had suffered racial discrimination?
After thirty years in the force he discovers racism, surely if it exists he would still be on the ground floor?

Now from my experience of the London police, where a 'macho' culture must exist, I suspect there are some who possess real racist attitudes. However if you are subject to constant abuse by gangs of young blacks and other 'coloured' groupings who build a wall between you and they, is it that unusual? Life for some is made easier if you can identify an enemy. In Northern Ireland it is political or nominally religious, in London it is race. That is so much easier than accepting people as people and life as your problem! I suspect what we have here is not racism in any shape or form, but something much worse, human relations. Sir Ian Blair, from what we can tell, is not a man who inspires confidence in me. I suspect that soon after these two men were introduced to one another s dislike appeared and has grown ever since. Neither appear to be adaptable to the other and a working relationship has not developed. Whether a 'racist' angle existed I doubt, but it may have crept in afterwards, but from which direction?

It has to be said that a man who complains of 'racism' and then accepts a £300,000 pay of and a pension of £!68,000 a year appears to be less interested in 'principle' and more interested in the money! I have no problems with his pension, but if there was a crime, and 'racism' is a crime, it ought to have been given its day before a jury of Londoners. Why was this not allowed? Certainly the cost would have been high, but that is what courts are for, and cost in this case would have been well spent. Cost wise it is cheaper to pay him off, but it leaves the question open as to the Metropolitan police having something to hide as well as Ghaffur being on the make. If there is genuine racism it ought to be exposed, if there is not Ghaffur should get nothing but an early retirement and a reduced pension.

Saturday

So another Saturday turns up unexpectedly. Quite how these days arrive when I still think tomorrows Tuesday I fail to comprehend. But here we are and once again I am struggling with a PC problem. Since reinstalling XP I have had trouble with the sound, that is there was none, now there is some and it is of a very low volume. Once again i am downloading drivers, the same as before, and playing around with cables and what have you. Once again it made a difference, the sound disappeared! Once again we await the drivers downloading, once again I sit in eager anticipation of hearing proper sound. Soon I will know the answer.

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In the meantime let us note the annoyance caused by the constabulary. There was a large marquee tent erected in the park opposite the other day, and in the evening these two cars arrived, disgorging their large stern faced occupants. Clearly some yobs were causing bother at the tent, as yet unused. But would the police inform me of their escapade? No! Not a word passed their gritted teeth. Surely if the police wish help and support from the general public it is imperative that nos..interested parties ought to be kept up to date with their adventures. I informed the shaven headed driver that I could indicate to folks worldwide just how efficient the British (well English) 'bobby' actually is to be informed I could go...well anyway, 'Dixon of Dock Green' would not have said that!

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I noticed that Max Moseley won his case against the 'News of the World.' He had been pictured being whipped by prostitutes dressed as 'Nazi's' apparently and sued the paper that printed the story for invading his privacy. Now whatever you think of folk who undergo such treatment, not for me thanks very much, I always support those who sue the media who invade privacy and make money out of it. Folks private lives, and the sexual problems they have, ought to remain their business and no-one else's, unless a criminal act is involved. Far too many papers fill their pages with the broken lives of the rich and famous, and sometimes talented folks also. If they want to be in the press they can always find a way, but their indulgences they should keep to themselves. So a man in an immoral act, it can be no other, sues a paper that lives on immoral stories, and wins a moral victory. Strange world.

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I mentioned the photographer who took pictures of Ethiopians starving to death recently. It was later I found myself ordering books I cannot afford just because they caught my eye and as I did so I realised I was spending enough to keep some of those folks alive for months. The books arrived yesterday and my guilt deepened with it. 'Conscience doth make cowards of us all,' did someone not say..........

Police Box

This Police Box pictured here stands somewhere in Edinburgh. I came across it on a site full of Glasgow Police Box's. A great site!
These blue boxes used to be found everywhere and were first erected in 1928, soon spreading throughout the nation. They were much used by the bobby on the beat to keep in touch with his station, report any action, long before personal wireless and sat navs, beat up recalcitrant prisoners and have a fly smoke. Policemen were six feet two at least until Thatcher decided to lower the height restriction, thus enabling an increase in police numbers. My dad was refused entry after the war because he was nearly an inch too short! This was a pity as he would have been an ideal 'Dixon of Dock Green,' helping old ladies across the road and smacking neds around the head in those happier pre-PC days!
The box contained little bar a chair and a desk, a duster or two and a feeble electric fire. The light on the top would flash to inform the bobby that he was to contact the station. This he did via the phone linked direct to his home base.

The phone was also used by the public. Until the sixties (remember them?) the majority did not have phones or cars, and all the other trappings of a wealthy society. Trappings which today include obesity, tabloid celebrities and puerile television! The public could call for 'Fire, Police or Ambulance via the Police Box if there was no public phone box nearby. However while this must have been abused by passing drunks on occasion it was often misused by little boys from the school nearby. My school was one such! Personally I never got involved with such activities but at least one lad was renown for his larks. On more than one occasion we learned the police had received a call the 'The skools on fire!' from a lying fun filled brat. Our information came from the class door opening and the boys name being called out in stern tones. 'You, Headmasters office now!' I saw him lurking in 'The Goblet' one evening when I was about 19 although we didn't speak. Next I heard of him was his death being announced in the columns of the 'Evening News.' My mother, like women in that city, keeping note of everyone we knew via the 'Births, Marriage and Deaths' notices of said paper. No reason given for the death, so an early drug death is what comes to mind. He must have been 21.

Using the Police Box as 'The Tardis' in 'Dr Who' may well have been a brainwave in the early sixties, but how many brats understand the significance today? The 'Time and Relative Dimension In Space' machine is certainly a useful way to improve upon the Police Box of yesterday. None are used by our 'Boys in Blue' today as the radio controlled, fast car approach is a wonderful help in reducing the crime that we see all around us, if they turn up that is. Other disused police boxes have been removed and sold to those who like such things in their (large) gardens for use a sheds, many have become coffee stalls, one called 'Coppuchino,' and it must be said, considerably cheaper than Starbucks I would assume. I bet the service is cheerier!