Remembrance Sunday

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Up and down the land groups of ex-servicemen and their relatives along with members of the public have gathered to 'remember' the war dead. Most will have concentrated their thoughts on those they knew or had some connection with, few will not have let their minds run on to our one time enemies also. The names on the memorials once belonged to men who fell in the two world wars, now they are beginning to have names from more recent wars added to them or placed alongside. This modern generation is once again realising the cost of war. During the years of 'peace,' since 1945 we fooled ourselves into thinking war happened elsewhere, now today's generation is suffering also as conflicts bring the truth close to home.


During the sixties, we of the 'baby boomer' generation, or 'accident' generation as my mother referred to it, we who had grown up with the aftermath of the war wanted to live a new life. All things military were pushed aside, banning the 'bomb' and making 'love not war' were what mattered. It actually was more 'make tea not war' but that's another story. The 'Cold War' caused millions of casualties but in Africa and South East Asia where America had made a fool of itself. A culture clash, an age gap between those who served between 30 and 45 could not be closed during the late sixties 'hippy' days. Now this has changed. The Irish troubles, the Falklands dispute, two wars against Iraq, the second certainly not required, and Afghanistan, have all brought home the role of the services today.  In my teenage years few walked the streets in uniform as conscription had long gone and jobs were plenty. Why enlist to be bullied by a sadistic corporal when life was outside your door? The wearing of poppies was not important as that was a long time ago, let's move on was the attitude.  I did enquire about the RAF and realised I could not get what I wanted there, lucky as I would have been thrown out had I attempted it. However a serviceman's life was only for the tough or those who sought adventure or travel in those days. Once again however the soldier is respected. Once again people are proud to wear poppies. Once again soldiers can wear their uniform in the streets. (This was stopped during the Irish troubles) Now people show respect when dead soldiers are buried near home.


There is however one question to ask, is there a danger that this can become a bandwagon for all to jump on, or proper respect? For instance at the small town of Wooton Basset, close to the aerodrome where British troops bodies are returned, now stand in silent salute for the soldier. It has become the thing for the hearse to stop and family and friends to put flowers on the vehicle. Flags are lowered and people stand in silence, except for the photographers desperate to find a crying wife or child of course! Is this respect, or has it become a circus? TV crews from around the world have attended here, is this really respect or are we using 'our boys' to sell papers and newsreels? At Tynecastle Park today the supporters of the Heart of Midlothian turned up to commemorate the men of the Hearts team who enlisted during the Great War. Seven did not return, others died between the wars, many were seriously wounded although some returned to play again. Since Jack Alexander published his book 'McCrae's Battalion,' it has brought many more younger fans to attend the service, a service which has happened ever since the memorial at Haymarket was erected in 1922. This has brought home to them what our forefathers have done. However, if they did not support the Heart of Midlothian would they come? If these were Hibernian players would they be bothered?  The point I am aiming at is why do we wear the poppies and attend services? Most will be right in offering 'remembrance' as the reason, but I wonder if there is the beginning of a band wagon. More TV coverage has been seen in recent years. TV companies insist that all wear poppies, in case someone complains, and a minutes silence occurs in most places at 11 am on the 11th of November in most public places today. How much of this is respect and how much not wishing to lose face? Difficult to tell with some. A response to public demand is one point even though a great many ignore the silence, sometimes deliberately.    


It strikes me also that today we have lost the 'stiff upper lip' of just 'getting on with it,' that our forefathers possessed. After the war that was the only possibility for returning troops. few received any help unless they had real difficulties physical or mental. Yet today there is a cry for 'counselling' after someone breaks a nail let alone suffers grief. I agree that much more is required for returning servicemen but on the other hand we live in a pampered society that needs to be told to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve and keep it to you and your alone. Questions asked by 'journalists,' and I use that word loosely, are based on emotions not facts. An experience can be related and the first question asks about the persons 'feelings.' Surely we ought to know instinctively what those are, or are we stupid?  The emotions, the tears, are more important to television than the story. This does not reflect a society that can cope well with wars results.

At our local memorial people had placed about a dozen small crosses around the display. I looked this man up in an attempt to discover his story. This is done firstly by visiting the Commonwealth War Graves Commission site and searching their records. Almost immediately I came across his record, the first time that has happened!


The 'Battle of the Ancre' 13th - 19th November 1916, was the last battle of what we refer to today as the 'battle of the Somme.' 'The Somme' was of course famous for the huge loses on the first day of the battle back in sun drenched July, however by November steady heavy rain had made the ground a quagmire and this battle may have been more to impress the French than achieve an actual breakthrough. The 1st Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders, I suspect this man belonged to the 1/7th Gordon's but cannot be sure at this moment, were part of the 51st Highland Division and their job was to attack north of the river and along with their comrades take several lines of German defences. In fact they appeared to attack over part of what is now known as the 'Newfoundland Park' area.The weather, the mud and the stout defending made this a very difficult and hazardous occupation. Success was achieved and eventually Beaucourt  was taken, but at what cost?


8493 Lance Serjeant George Christie (That is how it was spelt in those days) died on this day and it is likely, but not proven as yet, that he died during this attack. The Gordon's were a Territorial Force and at 31 and a Lance Serjeant it is likely that he had been a member of this unit for some time. It may be he had previously served in the army and like many others continued in the Territorials afterwards. Who knows? 
The problem with such memorials is the lack of information available. We know when he died, can speculate where, and we know his parents came from Knockenbaird Croft, Insch, (still in use) and that his wife lived at Victoria Buildings, Alford. The building is still there also and now appears to be the Co-op! Both places are in Aberdeenshire, the main recruiting ground for the Gordon's. The other question is who put this small cross, one of thousands placed at memorials throughout the land, into our memorial? I am sure that whoever it was Lance Serjeant George Christie would be appreciative of the thought.

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A Quite Realistic Great War Scene

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The Ordeal of War

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Paschendaelle. Here we see members of the Canadian force the day before another stage of this battle began. The machine gun crew were all dead by the end of the next day bar the man based at the gun itself. They were employed in firing over the lines, I suppose in an effort to prevent the enemy bringing up reinforcements to the battle line. This picture was taken sometime in October if my memory serves me well. The battle itself did not end until early November. Consider the state of the ground by that time, the difficulties is manoeuvring guns, men or wounded into position, and the long trek back for the survivors or the prisoners.


  
                


Operation Pedestal was one of the most famous convoy operation of the second world war.  The situation in North Africa and the future of the war in general depended at that time on Malta being secured. This dramatic convoy saved the day but left its mark on those who served. I met a member of this convoy a few years ago and as we spoke of the events tears were in his eyes. Old men find such emotions difficult after so many years. he later went from the sun drenched Mediterranean to the Soviet Union on the Arctic convoys. Lucky boy!

1st Somersets

After the war the British Empire collapsed. Independence was demanded everywhere and British troops were in action every year. In fact British forces have been in action in every year since 1945 with only one exception, 1968, and then the Irish troubles broke out! Men fought and died in Israel, India, Kenya, Cyprus and the debacle of Suez which ended Anthony Eden's time as Premier. Ignored by many, even at the time some did not realise 'our boys' were fighting in Korea, few give any thought to the conscripts who saw the 'end of Empire' yet they suffered just as surely as those who endured two major wars.

Today I believe 3 Para are once again walking the dangerous roads of Afghanistan. No longer in Sangin or protecting the Kajaki Dam they none the less face roadside bombs, sniper fire and suicide bomber. Some may be on their third tour and one wonders what this will do to their minds? Shell shock is an old  term now replaced by the ugly Post traumatic stress disorder but the effects are the same. 


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Remembrance Day

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Remembrance Day is commemorated at 11 am on the eleventh day of the eleventh month as this was the time for the armistice that ended the Great War in 1918. Since the Cenotaph was created in 1920 a ceremony has been held there every year on Remembrance Sunday. This year it takes place on Sunday the 14th. Today a simple two minutes silence will occur throughout the United Kingdom when most, but not all, will stand silent for two minutes in remembrance. All war dead will be remembered, not just our own. The twentieth century saw two major world wars leaving possibly seventy million dead, a Cold War which left another fifty or so million deceased, plus the usual smaller conflicts in various places and for a variety of real or imagined slights. Natural disasters and pandemics add to the death rate of the century. Iraq, that needless war, Afghanistan and often ignored conflicts in various places continue today. Death claims many even as we stand in silence for two short minutes. This commemoration will not end war, human nature will see to that, but it may lessen it, and more importantly ensures the lost are not forgotten. 


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Water

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I want to be by the seaside. Having been brought up with a view over the Firth of Forth and then spending 21 years in London I miss it greatly. The present wilderness is about a thirty minute drive to the estuary, and I have nothing to drive of course, and I miss being near the sea. I miss that smell as well as the sound of the water lapping against quayside or rock. I miss the noise of seagulls, the sight of those various birds chomping their lunch while racing backwards and forwards with the tide. While the sand in the boot is a nuisance it is worth the risk when watching along a good beach, and the one at Bournemouth is excellent, especially after the crowds have gone. 


Water in general, when not flooding under the door or overflowing the bath and crashing through the ceiling, can be an amazingly relaxing creation. Sales of recordings of waterfalls, of mountain streams and even heavy rain, sell to those who wish to soothe the troubles of the day by allowing their mind to dwell in imaginary places. The gentle trickle of a stream does refresh the mind, no doubt this is why so many people place small fountains in their garden to create a mini paradise. (Paradise comes from the Persian word for garden. The Persians, Babylonians etc, like the Arabs, loved gardens. Cool water filled oasis made to measure, at least by the rich!) 


When living in London I watched a TV programme about narrow boats, the type of craft that are used for leisure or even home on Britain's many old canals. Once these were working boats carrying all sorts of goods from coal to hay bales through the country to the coast. Mostly this work was transferred to rail and nowadays a decent narrowboat can cost from £10000 to half a million! I don't own one! However while watching this programme I had a huge desire to be there, on such a craft, stopped alongside a green field miles from anywhere. City life attractions wear off as age creeps up. The fields,the gentle lapping of the water appeared worth more than gold to a city dweller. For those who live on such boats, and larger barge type parked in estuaries around the coast, the rise and fall of the tides gentle rocking must make life worth living. I saw one such boat advertised recently, a mere £350,000 was required....


Oh yes, and drinking water is good for you, especially when indoors!      


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Genie

An Irishman an Englishman and a Scotsman were walking along a beach one day and come across a lantern. One of them picks it up and gives it a rub, a Genie pops out.

"I give you each one wish, that's three wishes in total", says the Genie.
The Irish lad says, "I'm a fisherman, my Dad's a fisherman, his Dad was a fisherman and my son will be one too. I want all the oceans full of fish for all eternity."
So, with a blink of the Genie's eye "Alakazam" the oceans were teaming with fish.

The Englishman was amazed, so he said, "I want a wall around England, protecting her, so that nothing will get in for all eternity.
Again, with a blink of the Genie's eye "Abrakadabra" there was a huge wall around England.


The Scot asks, "I'm very curious. Tell us more aboot yon wall."
The Genie explains, "Well, it's about 150 feet high, 50 feet thick, protecting England so that nothing can get in or out."

The Scot says, "Fill it up with water."






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Weather

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Snow on the hills in the north, rain lashing down here, and the remaining leaves being swept from the trees by the high winds. I am beginning to think, especially as the cold temperature has made me put on those woollen gloves with the fingers cut out, I am beginning to think as I said that winter may be upon us. Until now I have avoided the signs, Christmas trees in the shops, gas prices rising, and football managers facing the sack. All clear evidence of winter. Today I trekked out through this glorious weather to obtain the needful goodies. Tonight I was swept along as I again trekked out to buy those I forgot and urgently required.I am now writing my book, "How to be an Idiot without practice!"

Hibernian's chances in this season cup?

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Sunday

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The sun shone today, although I failed to get outside amongst it. I watched a wee bit too much football for my own good today and lost sight of the real world altogether! It wouldn't have been so bad if the football had been better but alas it was poor for the most part. The only exception was the somewhat inevitable victory for the Heart of Midlothian over the wee team for Leith. Once again Hibernian 0 Heart of Midlothian 2, was the result, much smaller than expected but there again we are not yet playing as well as we can. A tougher game on Wednesday against 12 man Celtic, the referees having been humbled by the green bigots, but at home we can give them a game. No Aberdeen we!

Now I must return to job searching before IDS makes me clean up litter or puts me in the workhouse breaking rope, and this means once more attempting to get fit enough to work, which I am not at the moment. His idea, to appease the 'Daily Mail' reader, is that you should not get benefits unless you are working for them. However I have been paying national Insurance for forty years before my knee ruined things, so why should I work for what I have paid for IDS? The coalition do not think before suggesting things, just appeal to their voters prejudice and count their expense cash.  Mind you I would not object being put on something keeping me busy, and it might get me fit. The plan is laid for the morning, especially as the Lottery which promised so much once again failed to deliver. I had such good plans for that cash all laid out. Now you will never know how much I would have improved the world. 

I've just turned the TV over, (by that I mean I changed channels from the news to catch 'Top Gear,' not that I have actually picked the brute up and turned it upside down as that would not have helped in any way whatsoever in watching the programme,) and what do I find but ANOTHER cooking show! There must be more hours of this on TV than soaps at the moment. I found three on at one time the other day,now who on earth is watching this pap? Consider this, the west is stuffed full of fat people, me included, who eat badly and throw tons of food away (I don't do that) and elsewhere around a million people are dying at this moment from starvation! The other day one channel ran at least five editions of 'Come dine with me' one after another,  a kind of reality programme featuring no reality whatsoever. Just a group of vacuous attention seekers discussing one another, pushing their fat faces forward and criticising their dinner! I just hope some of the starving are allowed in their with them one day! Who watches this pap? What sort of brain dead chav is sitting there mindlessly watching someone cook? 

Food is just food. Get it down you and be grateful you have it, but SHUT UP ABOUT IT WILL YOU and please GET OF THE TELLY!!!!  

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TRAIN TICKET

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Three women and three men are traveling by train to the football match. At the station, the three men each buy a ticket and watch as the three women buy just one ticket. 'How are the three of you going to travel on only one ticket?' asks one of the men. 'Watch and learn,' answers one of the women.

They all board the train. The three men take their respective seats but all three women cram into a toilet together and close the door. Shortly after the train has departed, the guard comes around collecting tickets.  He knocks on the toilet door and says, 'Ticket, please.. The door opens just a crack, and a single arm emerges with a ticket in hand.  The guard takes it and moves on.

The men see this happen and agree it was quite a clever idea; so, after the game, they decide to do the same thing on the return trip and save some money. When they get to the station they buy a single ticket for the return trip but see, to their astonishment, that the three women don't buy any ticket at all!!

'How are you going to travel without a ticket?' says one perplexed man.
'Watch and learn,' answer the women.

When they board the train, the three men cram themselves into a toilet, and the three women cram into another toilet just down the way.

Shortly after the train is on its way, one of the women leaves her toilet and walks over to the toilet in which the men are hiding.
The woman knocks on their door and says, 'Ticket, please.'


I'm still trying to figure out why men ever think they are smarter than women!

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Wednesday

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'The Lochaber' stands at Mallaig after depositing a trainload of tourists. The journey through the West Highland Line found most of us queuing up to shove our heads out of the windows, take pictures and receive eyefuls of soot to enhance the joy. None complained! Mallaig itself is a mere fishing village and departure point for the ferry to the Isle of Skye. Whether this still runs I know not as the bridge at the Kyle of Lochalsh has been opened for some years now. The steam train runs during the summer months and well worth the time and trouble I must say! Head for Fort William and spend a day pulled by steam!

So the lunatics have won the US election! The 'Tea Party,' a group of mentally unstable fascists with no understanding of the world, have forced themselves into Congress. The 'Tea Party' of course covers a large number of different people, almost all white, and a large number of differing policies. Andrew Neil had a programme on them the other day and it as very worrying, especially when you consider that most of them have guns! In fact one interviewee claimed he was living in a 'tyranny.' When Andrew indicated that he was free to speak to him, that no secret police watched his house, that there was no Stalin or Hitler dictating too him, the 'oppressed' was somewhat stuttering. He eventually pointed out that in Washington they wanted to "Initiate gun laws!" This he thought was 'tyranny.' The ageing son of one time potential president called 'Wallace' (I canny mind his full name but I remember him as a racist thug in the 60's,') complained there was "Too much government and why do we need government anyway?" He also demanded to know why the government should tell him how to educate his children, and left me wondering if insanity was in the genes? The programme was full of such people, all with more than enough cash, talking of 'Socialism' because Obama wished to have a proper health service, and 'Communism' because thy had no understanding of what this means. Gathering in their thousands on the anniversary of Martin Luther Kings famous speech the 'Tea Party' abused his memory while making the leading members of the movement very wealthy indeed. Gary Glen (?) one of the main men appeared like a salesman more used to selling second hand cars, along with his books and videos, etc, has made millions, it appears, out of his screaming opposition to Obama, and yet not once has he admitted the basis of the opposition is racism! Let's face it, a black president, and a resentment of paying taxes (without which no society can exist) lies at the heart of the 'Tea Movement.' The most frightening was the church minister telling his congregation which way to vote! Clearly biblical truth and middle America are strangers to one another. Watching the programme and listening to Sarah (look at me) Palin, observing the blogs and US papers it leaves us wondering in the free world just what goes on in the minds of Americans? The worship of the Constitution, written by a man who had 200 slaves, means more than the bible to the minister and his people. The misuse of the early ideas to suit passing fashion lines the pockets of lawyers and does nothing for the people themselves, most Americans are far from rich it appears. Thousands losing their homes yet one man wished to end all welfare, no matter what happens to the people! America, land of the free?  These people not only have guns they have nuclear weapons. Aren't you glad their presidents can lose the code numbers sometimes? 

  

Of course the United Kingdom, with the high education standards, some of the oldest and best universities in the world, can find that watching soap operas, and daytime television can blunt the thinking processes somewhat! There again, she is just a woman of course.....

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Erskine

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Privatisation

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A thought has crossed my little mind tonight re privatisation and the effects thereof. The mad Baroness Margaret Thatcher was quoted on one programmes from the 70's talking about equality. Her point was this was impossible in a society full of opportunity as those taking their opportunities would become better off than those failing to do so. What she was getting at sounds like keep the rich rich and the poor poor. Her privatisation of the utilities has indeed encouraged just that! Those badly run organisations, stuffed full off uncaring employees, have now been replaced by grossly overpaid directors ensuring their workers are as cheaply paid as possible and worked to death, this of course leaves them uncaring. It also leads to the public paying vastly more for the service (remember that word) and some of the poorest suffering badly because of it. The railways are now subsidised much more than when they were badly run by one organisation instead of badly run by several. The Gas folk are already increasing prices as winter begins, and the government wishes to sell off Royal Mail to save the tax payer a few bob. The increase in price and loss of service which will result beggars belief!

The point is in the 80's we were told Maggie encouraged greed, as if it did not exist before then, and I am beginning to reckon that most of societies attitudes today reflect the selfishness that began during that decade. Since the war years there was an unwritten agreement of 'service' to the nation, now that has gone, in utilities, buses etc, we have an attitude that reflects that found in 'Eastenders,' self, self, self. Do not consider others just yell and scream for your will and forget others. This attitude lies deep in the human heart yet was released by Thatcher and her love of money, sorry enterprise! Look after yourself replaced service to others, prosperity was king and eat your granny if need be! 

Now greed was there before of course, and it showed in industrial relations where both sides were incompetent and self concerned, it was seen in relations with others, yet there remained an underlying belief in public services for all. In the past thirty years the nation has lost all concern for service to others, unless you are asking "Do you want fries with that?" Yobs rule so many council estates yet nothing is done about them. Vigilantes who take action are jailed if caught, not rewarded! Such yobs always existed but men would take action, and the police would agree that such action was right, and often join in. Most folks could walk the streets in most, not all, areas relatively safely. Today too many areas are uncontrolled because nobody wishes to be involved, especially the emergency services. Recently the emergency services failed to respond at 7/7 in case another bomb was in the area, and a fire rescue crew stood by and watched a man drown because they had not 'water training certificate' or equipment! Allowing for facts being badly reported it remains a fact that something is seriously wrong somewhere!

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The Ghost Trains of Old England

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The Ghost Trains of Old England 

This was a programme broadcast on Radio 4 the other day. The main object was to find rail services that are advertised but never appear to run, and little if any information ever appears concerning them. Now as you know I find disused buildings strangely attractive, I suspect they remind me of wimmen I have met, and I also find tales of railways intriguing also, however I am a wee bit hesitant concerning this one. As the narrator travelled from one empty station to another, and then spent an inordinate amount of time to get a free taxi ride between two stations, I began to feel my skin creep a little. Info concerning such stations and trains that arrive once a week, but do not pick up passengers, may be interesting in a way, however the desperate trawl was a wee bit wearing. Some trains do run, but rarely, it is a way to keep a line officially open but in fact the rail company has actually stopped using it, and crowds, or is it groups, of anoraks will gather to journey on these trains. It need not be stressed that these were all male, spoke in a strangulated English accent, and, possibly,   did not go home to a female of the species at days end. I could be wrong but.....


Some years ago the English queen arrived at Edinburgh's Waverley station at the same time as I did, well almost. She was a bit early so she did not wait for me. Typical woman! Having not been hanging around the station for some years I took a couple of poor photographs and suddenly was confronted! "What was the traction?" said an excited voice. "Traction?" I thought. There are no tractors round here mate! I suddenly realised he and his mate, both male, were talking about the royal train, which departed just as I arrived. Becoming frightened I may be mistaken for such creatures I replaced the camera in the bag, they always have similar bags don't they, and sent them on their way to where I suspected the train was being stored for security reasons. If they were to get arrested for clambering about the track there I assure you I was not too worried. 


In many ways this programme, still available to listen to for a few days, was quite interesting. However the stereotype of the railway buff crept in and spoiled things for me. I attended a great rail gathering at London Bridge some time back, lots of Southern Region trains on view, and found myself surrounded by people of all types. men teaching their kids history, and in truth railways are a major part of British history, where would we be without them, and a good time was had by all. Well until I discovered my pictures were all blurred. A clever brother had fixed and turned something the wrong way round when putting it back together! Pah!
  
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Black Boxes

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For reasons I do not understand myself I wandered around the flash shopping centre today. Taking the free bus there I remembered what it was about crowds I disliked, the crowds! Large numbers squeezed on and the large male already seated was not to keen to allow me to join him. I am so polite these days, this area being so much humane than London, and I realised how I had changed. Attempting to sit on the dreadful but much loved (because you could jump off and skip fares) 'Routmaster' buses I learned than to get space on a seat the best way was to sit down heavily and force the already seated ignorant brute to move. A quick apology and you were both on!  The seats on those buses were made for one and three quarter people not two it must be said! This tactic had slipped my mind and shows how nice I am becoming, the incident with the hatchet apart of course. Disgorged into the rain I wandered into what once was 'Comet' and now appears to be either a renaming or a new shop designed to over change us. I could make out fridges and food mixers on one side but for the life of me did not know what the black boxes were. Ignoring the incredibly thin laptops, all black and far too pricey, I wondered how to turn the radio, I almost said wireless, on. it took me a while to realise this was a home cinema outfit and not some for of stereo, oops I mean 'music centre.' Having read that Sony stopped making their 'Walkman' in April, or at least some Chinese slave labourer did, I feel I am falling behind in the technological stakes.

The digital telly I had died a while back and I am left with a twenty year old set which gives me five channels filled with rubbish if nothing else. Yesterday I attempted to fix the VCR to it (VCR is another name for video recorder, ask your dad!) and the thing was not compliant with it. What with the tape recorder on my ste...music centre running fast and this I cannot play all the tapes (ask dad again) I have made. I did manage 'Freeview' until the telly died, (it was switched on but the plug was not, as I put on the plug it must have overpowered the set!) but 'Freeview' does not view with the old TV. However I can manage technology far enough by using the 'BBC IPlayer,' or the other stations version thereof so all is not lost, yet. However this brings me back to the PCs I saw today. Sleek, thin, black and costly and I bet ten times more powerful than this beast! They appear to be half the size of my box also. Everything on that side of the shop was black, and everything on the kitchen side was white. Mr Ford must have shares in this company!

I walked home, in the rain, it was easier than using the free bus.

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Monday

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Once again I have my fingers itching to write. And here I am, cold, tired, and brain dead. Last night, as I lay my head down on my bedbug covered pillow I had thousands of words running through my mind. Hundreds of points were raised and many of the problems of the world were sorted, and then I dreamt of being employed in an office with a pretty young boss. I awoke just as she fired me and have spent the day with "You mindless, incompetent lout," running through my heart. That dream was quite realistic I thought. Anyway the dullness removed all the words from last night and nothing is lined up tonight.


I could have written about music but I won't. It appeared to me you see, or it did last night, that we could not live without music. I like something tinkling from Radio 3 in the background when I write or read, sometimes piano jazz is used, but at all times there is some musical sound nearby. Builders and decorators like most tradesmen require Radio 1, or something similar, blasting out the noxious pandemonium they call music and always at a volume capable of drowning our Harrier Jump Jets! Celebrations lead to song, football fans automatically sing when they are winning (although Dumbarton fans have not been singing much this season I am told), worshippers sing, lovers sing to their beloved (unless they get a slap), and toddlers dance to music and attempt to sing along, music is part of the human existence, how could we cope without it?


Neanderthal man, (no I don't mean Hibernian fans), must have made some kind of music. The early form of man, called Adam in the good book, must have found himself singing when the occasion called for it, but what instruments did he use? Some say the Canaanite's in ancient Israel were famed for their music going back centuries. They were said to travel to Egypt and Hittite land in Turkey to use their talents. Singers, dancers, flute players, drummers, and the most awful instrument until the organ - the tambourine - were in use, along with others no doubt. Ancient Greeks had women playing 'Nose Flutes' at there symposiums before they were found playing the pink flutes.


Music reflects our age and our mood. Young folks tend to like loud crashing music because for them the world is young and full of interest and excitement. Today I spent my time listening to the 'Death March,' I wonder why? Cheery music was used during the war to keep the factories working. Some songs were banned because they slowed production and others encouraged as the workers worked faster under their tune. I think it was the 'Yellow rose of Texas' that was banned at one point as at the chorus people tapped out the tune on their machines and so many were damaged war production was seriously it! The BBC were advised to drop it quietly! David famously played his Lyre to King Saul when he was in a downer and this cheered him. Divers require music to aid them while using their satnavs or they end up in Basingstoke instead of Barnsley. Music is always with us and we appreciate this unless it is sound which clashes with our mood.


In the early seventies I worked for slave wages in a Leith Cash & Carry. The boss had decided we needed music and tapes were played, over and over and over again. Whoever it was that done the cheap cover version of Donny Osmond and 'Puppy Love' I do not know, however if they were to have fallen into a pit with ten hungry Rottweillers they will be happy to know some folks in Leith were rejoicing at their accident. Worse however occurred at Christmas. There was only one tape! We had at least two, and later three, tapes of 'music' to play, but only one Christmas one. 'Dashing through the snow' may be fun on a sleigh in some American state however singing about this while slush lies several inches deep outside the door and we have heard the song a thousand times is NOT FUN!


I canny get that song out of my head now.....


Right, I'm off to listen to 'Canned Heat' until my head calms down. I may be back by Thursday. In the meantime ask yourself if you can live without music, I can't.

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Friday

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To exercise the bulk that creaks every time I stand on the broken weighing machine I decided to clean the place this week. I cleaned the woodwork, the doors, the bit behind the loo, the cupboards and on and on,  but the glow soon wore off. While the place is unnaturally clean, what a funny smell health is, I soon got fed up with all this and resorted once again to being a slob. Partly this was my fault, in fact most off it was my fault. You see I made flapjacks. Not the sort you would buy in a shop, certainly not, well not unless you want E-Coli or some such, and the problem is I made two lots and then I ate them. They were quite good, almost tasty, which in itself is quite something for me, but they do put on weight! I have added half a stone this week while I was supposed to be exercising to lose that! 

Ian Duncan Smith wandered around Glasgow some time ago and decided that the people on benefits needed hep to get off drugs and into work. Underneath his Conservative image there is a man who wants to help those at the bottom of society. How does he intend to do this? Well he wishes to limit those on Invalidity Benefit and get them 'Back to work.' he also wishes people in Merthyr Tydfil to 'get on a bus and look for work.' There are various other money saving aids to work available from this man. Now a bus to Cardiff from Merthyr takes one hour and possibly (since Thatchers deregulation of them) costs about £4 a day. Those on benefits, of whatever sort, must rejoice at the thought of £4 to spend on a bus not to find a job! Could it be that this man, like the others amongst the millionaire Cabinet are mentally unbalanced? Or will we see IDS in the House of Commons pantomime dressed as Scrooge?

Sad news tonight that Portsmouth may well be extinct in the next few days! This is sad indeed, not because I am a fan of the club but because the fans are true football fans as they ought to be, that is fans of their local side! These are not people who run after distant clubs for glory hunting reasons, they support their side, and this is good! Of course they are not all the type you would wish your daughter to bring home, clearly, but there again all football clubs have one of those somewhere! 


This club has been handled by several owners and some board members you would not wish to be associated with. Various people with East European connections have been running the club, but to what end? Has Portsmouth been a place to launder Russian money I wonder? I ask because Russians have been involved and Heart of Midlothian fans understand some of the problems they might bring. This of course does not imply anything illegal occurred, but something morally wrong has indeed been occurring and over a good few years at that. Portsmouth reached the English Premier League. Under 'Arry ' Redknapp they won the English Cup and found themselves a glorious Euro night against Juventas! 'Arry had of course 'opped it to Spurs by this time and some wondered if there was more than football involved in his departure. No manager would refuse the offer of the Spurs job but did the man realise he could do no more for Pompey, or was he aware the money had run out? The players were on huge salaries it appears, even for the EPL, and debts soon appeared. After much struggle it looked like the team was settling down to a stable future and the former owner, Sacha Gaydamak has demanded an up front payment for reasons of his own.


This may of course all be negotiating tactics, but the clubs fans are the ones who suffer, not those in the money. All may well be brought under control, and some agreement might well be reached, however the way people use football clubs to their financial gain is a disgrace. Other clubs are also in financial difficulty, Dundee are walking this tightrope just now, and even the Liverpool's of this world have problems. However it is not the directors who suffer when clubs go bust, it is the fan of the club. He is the helpless one in these situations, and no-one appears to care about him!


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Top 50 Jokes?

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That august periodical 'The Daily Mail,' today publishes what is claimed to be the 'Top 50 Jokes!' The researchers 'researched' many online jokes to come up with their choices. Humour is subjective of course and  what suits one will not suit another, as I have often discovered! Women especially fail to 'get the joke' as they listen emotionally, unlike men who just listen. Here are number 50 - 40 on their list, the others can be found at the 'Daily Mail' online page -  It's not just the way you tell 'em:

50 I went to the Doctors the other day, and he said, 'Go to Bournemouth, it's great for flu'. So I went - and I got it. 

49. A seal walks into a club... 

48. Went to the corner shop - bought 4 corners. 

47. So I met this gangster who pulls up the back of people's pants, it was Wedgie Kray. 

46. I'll tell you what I love doing more than anything: trying to pack myself in a small suitcase. I can hardly contain myself.       

45. I tried water polo but my horse drowned.      

44. A three-legged dog walks into a saloon in the Old West. He slides up to the bar and announces: 'I'm looking for the man who shot my paw.'      

43. You see my next-door neighbour worships exhaust pipes, he's a catholic converter.

42. I've got a friend who's fallen in love with two school bags, he's bisatchel.       

41. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly. But when they lit a fire in the craft, it sank, proving once and for all that you can't have your kayak and heat it.

40. 'I said to this train driver "I want to go to Paris". He said "Eurostar?" I said, "I've been on telly but I'm no Dean Martin". '  

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Television Plays

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In the days of two channel television there used to be a thing called 'Armchair Theater' from, I think, ATV TV. This competed with plays shown on the BBC and the other day the type of plays shown came to mind for some reason now forgotten. In between those featuring Judie Dench overemoting,(at least it saved writing scripts) there appeared plays which took us well aware from the run of the mill stuff that now dominates the small screen. Today, as you know, anything that appears on screen is merely a soap opera! Often it is an American version which includes guns, explosions and women throwing themselves at the anti-hero star. (British version differ in that they contain guns, explosions and a woman throwing herself at the anti-hero star.)
However in the sixties this was not the case. One of the first, which appeared around the time we first had our Ferranti Telly, featured a spacecraft hanging over London threatening earth! I can remember the scene in the Cabinet Room as the Prime Minister and his cohorts discussed the situation. As they spoke my folks debated whether this was 'live' or not! I can remember my dad saying "That's not Harold MacMillan!" as if to convince my mum that it was indeed a play. Now you understand why I have no brains! A later play featured two men sitting on a park bench discussing life. As the talk continued it became obvious one of them came from Mars. Such events are not shown today, nor is the one concerning the department store. This featured a young men wandering around a store after closing time and discovering the mannequins that modelled the clothes in the store window. As he looked at them, and those inside the shop, they began to speak to him. By the end of the play he had of course become one of them and was found standing in the window, statuesque like. One other featured Bernard Cribbens, at least my memory tells me so, and this concerned a man who's skin slowly began to turn into steel. This began around his midriff and slowly made its way upwards. His anxious wife and not so anxious doctor stood by the bed, ignoring him, and discussing the situation. In the end he dies. Maybe this had a satiric value that my young mind could not gather, possibly it was just written by a nutter?    


Now tastes change and time passes but it appears to me that television today only wants soaps and simple to understand 'drama.' That is why the quality is so poor. A comment made on the 'Steptoe & Son,' programme claimed that comedy today was poor because it required a laugh every thirty seconds, there being no time to create characters or situations. We live in simpler times, the TV audience cannot cope with much beyond soaps and reality shows. The drama I mentioned from the past may be a bit esoteric, whatever that means, but at least it was something different. I suppose in the fifties and sixties TV had room for experiment, today this is not allowed. There again red tape intervenes. Memory tells me that the radio programme 'I'm sorry I haven't a clue,' was created by Graeme Garden and one other discussed the idea in the BBC canteen, went upstairs to the Radio controller and were given the go-ahead there and then. Now it takes several layers of suits before a programme is offered to the nation. Somewhere along the way creativity and spontaneity have been lost.


There again, maybe it's just me thinking today's telly is garbage of course and past times appear better.


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Think!

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Today I decided to cogitate on my next step. I came to the conclusion that I required encouragement where concentration was concerned so I placed a large sign above the desk to help me concentrate. Just a moment ago I noticed this sign read 'THINJ' in large bold letters!


The futures bright......

On every occasion that I have turned on the TV to watch these games I fail to find any action. All that greets me are several past 'stars,' most of whom I have never heard of, blethering on about the Games. I want to see action, something happening, not burbling as folk try to fill time! When there has been action it has always concentrated on the English teams attempts to win Gold. This was taken to the normal BBC limit as a Scots girl fought for first place, moving into second as she rounds the bend, while the camera ignored her and followed the English lass drifting backwards into fifth! British Broadcasting indeed! Naturally the Scot continued to slip away and in the end she was third and the English first. I suspect more dirty dealing there! 

I looked for action but the most I got was swimming. Now to me swimming is one of the more boring activities, I prefer the discuss, hammer and such like. However swimming dominated for at least a week, which means the English were involved. The problem above all is the limited coverage. With trendy sets you may get a choice of channels, I have only the basic five these days, and what is covered there is very limited for the most part. Sue Barker gets very excited when mentioning the medals won, but rarely do we see other nations winning  theirs. Boasting about 'British,' and I use that term loosely, medals is understandable, but then we realise that Australia and Canada have ten times as many, yet we hardly see them mentioned? I canny wait for 2012 and the billions wasted on the next Olympics!

As my mother came from Cowdenbeath, the heartland of the Fife coalfields, I can understand something of the emotions experienced by relatives of the men trapped for so long deep under Chile! When watching a TV programme set in such a town the sounding of the siren caused my mother to react. The memory of the siren from Pit No. 7, or any other close by, would bring the town almost to a standstill while they awaited news of the cause. Often this was a small fall, trapping only a few men, in some situations it may lead to many deaths. My uncles once got themselves trapped by such a fall. There was a very long shaft that they could escape through by walking round to Pit No. 1, however Will had bad feet and was unable to walk that far. He had to sit tight until men dug their way through to him. A small incident which shows that danger lurked daily down a mine, and also that miners will risk their own lives to save another's! It is an unwritten rule that if something happens you go and help! After all, even if he is your enemy he will come to your aid! That is one reason mining areas produced such close knit feelings. That grand man Mike tells us that on the day Margaret Thatcher celebrated her 85th birthday these miners were brought to the surface. I bet she thought she had closed them all down!

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So Another Day at Work Finishes...

So another day at work finishes, well my second two hour stint this week, and with it my little job comes to an end.  While it was not much to boast about, and I am so slow that snails sometimes passed me by as I went to work, at least it gave me the impression that I was working. Now I am back to being a dole scrounger and a lazy workshy parasite (@ 'Daily Mail reader'). The company has 'outsourced' the warehouse because, as they put it, "The warehouse is not working!" What they meant was, "It's too expensive." Some of the lads have already moved on, and the rest leave this week however a problem has arisen. It appears the people taking over the warehouse, based somewhere in the Midlands, are struggling to get things working there also! What appeared a good thing monywise has turned out to be harder in reality. Hundreds of items are not that easy to deal with, especially when many of them look similar and some are very small! Cynical folks laughed, and were shocked to be asked to stay on, they have refused. I ought to indicate I was not asked to stay.....


Tomorrow I will continue the search for employment of a sedentary nature, requiring little intellect and paying me untold wealth! As I have already attempted this with almost every company in a ten mile radius I am somewhat dubious of success. There are around 300 jobs in this area and three thousand unemployed! Take away several hundred unable or unwilling and there is still a problem. Even working a few hours a week was good for making me feel less guilty when sitting around loafing (@'Daily Mail' reader). Receiving the first payslip since Adam was a boy was such an experience I considered placing it on the wall! Now this has ended and I am back to lounging about in pubs drinking all day (@'Daily Mail' reader) as I will be receiving about £32,000 a year, plus house, for the eight children I possess (@'Daily Mail' reader). Now I don't wish to appear cynical, as you know that is not my nature, I am gentle and quiet usually and not one to complain, but I do get somewhat irked by the attitudes of the "I'm all right Jack" types.


So I must sit down and look at all my talents.
Right that's that done so let's move on to the next phase, this includes lying on the floor crying, "Why me?" loudly and repetitively.  This doesn't actually help, but it keeps the Jehovah Witnesses away from the door I suppose. Then I shall exercise my aching bones,(four hours work and I feel like I have climbed the Matterhorn) clean the house, open the windows, and throw out the rubbish, that bag does pong a bit after a month - or so....  Then I shall sit down and ponder the good piece of luck that came my way today. The 'Beef & Ale' pie that costs about 50p from Iceland, the store not the country, actually contained a piece of meat! Now when I the last time you found real meat in a pie? Note I said 'meat' and not 'beef,' as you never know do you.....?

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