Big Brother

ok....I admit it. Despite my best attempts otherwise I am again, this year, becoming addicted to Big Brother.

Am I the only one thought beginning to feel somewhat voyeuristic where Ahmed is concerned? It seems somehow unkind to be watching an individual for entertainment, who is rapidly sliding towards being our first, live televised incident of a psychotic episode.

Following on very loosely!

Chelsea Bridge.

At the age of 17 I acquired a fascination with bikes, not the healthy pedal models the very large petrol (or something more interesting) propelled type..... and a small but obsessive biker was born. I add hurriedly here,I was never the long haired, greasy, tattooed, with multiple piercing breed, more the 'bum up head down' speed freak type, though of course safety dictated I wore leathers and consequently 'Joe public' has a tendency to stereotype us all.

At 8 stone and 5 foot tall whilst I could and did ride, I generally chose to pillion given that anything worth riding was far too much of a handful for me. For those of you who have never experienced the thrill of 170 mph or the low end torque believe me you need to have some considerable upper body strength! Though I say so myself I was a good pillion, my size dictated that the rider hardly knew I was there, I was fearless and I was the only person I knew who could 'get my knee down' on the back of a ZXR9.

It was perhaps my one 'anti establishment' stand. Day to day I have always been and will always be a democracy believing, law abiding citizen and somehow biking was among other things a small escape from that.

I did all the 'biker' things...... reunion rides to Brighton, Saturday and Sundays riding everywhere and anywhere, holidays touring and all the shows, Birmingham NEC, Crystal palace etc, my second wedding took place in leathers and on a bike.
One of the 'must do's at the time was Friday night at 'Chelsea Bridge', it was probably also the stupidest. For those of you who are not unfortunate enough to live near Chelsea Bridge or stupid enough to have been involved in this ritual I will expand.

On a Friday nights bikers from allover the South East and London converge on Chelsea bridge having 'screamed' their respective routes via the likes of 'The Ace Cafe' and other 'biker friendly' establishments.



Having arrived, those who are the most stupid race the bridge and perform many and various hair raising stunts, whilst the remaining hundreds look on. This of course is not an 'official' or 'approved' meeting and it goes without saying is extremely dangerous. If those involved wish to risk their lives that is their choice but to risk the lives of the public is another matter entirely. It does of course attract the attention of the police and in latter years (this has gone on since the late 60's)has largely been well controlled by them.

I say this now from a point of disapproval. At the time I was involved I disapproved and agreed with all the arguments against it, the danger, the cost of policing etc. but strangely and conversely at the time I loved it. I knew I shouldn't and I constantly argued with myself over it but I loved it none the less. Perhaps it was my one attempt at rebelling......whatever I am glad to be out of it now.

You may be wondering from the title of this post what it is following on from? At the end of Chelsea Bridge road is a service station which made a good living on Friday nights. It was the only place close at hand, late at night, offering coffee, food and lavatorial facilities. One such night, freezing cold and wind worn,trying to force my hands to work well enough to hold onto a hot drink and paying no attention to what was going on around me, I bowled headlong into some poor shopper trying to control two children and buy a few necessities. I spectacularly emptied my drink over him and at the same time trod squarely on his feet with my none too feminine boots. I looked up in horror, full of apology and embarrassment at the voice uttering expletives in my direction to see that the individual I had assaulted was Bob Geldof!

Probably not the introduction to one of my hero's I would have wished for!

No blog day

Have I missed an announcement of earth shattering proportions, has something happened that only I don't know about?

I'm relatively new to this blogging malarky so perhaps this happens now and again and I just haven't been aware of it until today.

For some inexplicable reason today seems to be a 'slow blog day', or in some cases a 'no blog day.' Not only am I struggling to make more than a couple of posts but so it seems is everyone else I read. In fact, a few who can always be relied upon are completely absent thus far, and although I'm not up there in the 'impressive list' where hits are concerned, those too are much declined.

These kind of coincidences always fascinate me...............or should I just start with the paranoia?? :o)

'Feed the world'

Live Aid

Suddenly I feel old!

Mostly my age doesn’t overly concern me despite remembering Vietnam (just) Watergate and John Noakes presenting Blue Peter. This mornings discovery that ‘Live Aid’ hit the worlds airwaves and broadcasting satellites 19 years ago today has for some inexplicable reason changed that at least for a few minutes! It just can’t be 19 years since Sir Bob did his thing….it just can’t be! I remember it as if it were yesterday!

I along with millions of others was riveted to my TV. I lived in Manchester at the time but coincidentally was at my parents quite close to Wembley for a few days. Out on the street there was a palpable feeling of excitement and of ‘something happening’. The shops where unusually quiet and it seemed that on this hot summer’s day it was the only topic of conversation.

Today such an event would perhaps not seem so significant, current teenagers I doubt even know who Bob Geldof is but in 1985 this was the first gig of that magnitude and the technicalities and logistics involved where unprecedented.

The politics and arguments surrounding it at the time did nothing to dampen its popularity or the fact that it raised a figure in excess of 30million for its cause, the victims of famine in Ethiopia. Yes, I have no doubt that those involved could have quietly put their hand into their collective pocket and donated the same sum without generating the publicity but whatever the rights of wrongs the world doesn’t work like that.

For me at least, Live Aid will remain a high spot in my memories and Sir Bob a modern day hero….. but it still makes me feel old!

Come on girls...lets be honest here.

I was reading somewhere recently about a guy who's partner/wife was giving him grief for that age old pastime of discreet 'talent spotting'. Whatever you care to call it you know the one, you're driving/walking/sitting in a bar/wherever and you catch your 'Mr' surreptitiously admiring a stunning blonde with legs to die for out of the corner of his eye. He adjusts his position very slightly to get a better view or doesn't quite look you in the eye as you try to hold a conversation, instead his gaze is targeted just over your shoulder at the 20 something with 'Jordan breasts' and his conversational skills fall apart despite his best attempts to appear engrossed in what you are saying. The movements have been perfected throughout evolution so as to be barely perceptible, or at least that's the theory, in fact we rarely miss it!!

And why, I wonder do some women react like a 'screaming banshee' or at the very least aim a vicious elbow into the ribs of the perpetrator. I know in all seriousness there are individuals with self esteem, self image or security issues and I don't wish to detract from the importance of those feelings, but in the main this is just normal behavior. I for one would be far more concerned if my partner showed no interest in a pretty woman.

I am not talking here of the fool we all unfortunately know so well, 'white van man,' who leers out of his vehicle shouting 'nice arse darlin' at anything with a pulse and possibly couldn't get laid if he were the last man on earth. He shows a complete lack of education and respect and deserves to be humiliated where possible.

But come on, lets be honest here girls and give the guys a break...... we all do it, do we not? Show me a woman under 80 who can honestly say, hand on heart, she has never looked! This is not a male only foible, it's natural, we are not the shy, retiring, anorgasmic creatures our grandmothers had to be, or at least pretend to be. I certainly don't pass an Adonis look-alike without noticing and nor would I want to,.... ok so maybe we are slightly more discreet about it and perhaps we are slightly more selective but we still do it!!

You don't have to be part of the (unpleasant) 'ladette culture' to appreciate a nice body or a sexy smile and because you adore Van Gogh it doesn't follow that you can't appreciate Klimt!

Home at last

At last....only two working days left until we go to my parents on holiday. This time next week we will be there, I cant wait. We have only managed to visit them once so far this year, which is not enough. I'm sure there are many who would count that as a blessing but not me. Having lived previously in Manchester for 15 years we are all used to not living on each others doorstep but the logistics from Scotland seem always to be fraught with difficulties.

The negative aspects of living here in our field are few, I could count them on one hand and they mostly concern the lack of facilities. No M&S food store, no cinemas, no pizza deliveries and no clubs, bars etc. The most significant drawback for me is to be so far from my family, my parents and brother are 20 miles outside of London and my sister in the Midlands. On a world scale 400 miles is no distance but in a practical sense it might as well be much further.

It seems to be a task of Herculean proportions for PG and myself to manage to secure more than two days leave from work together and on the rare occasion we do achieve it we then have to find places in a cattery, which are as rare as hens teeth here, for Poppy and Ditto. It always seems to be in the 'lap of the Gods' as to whether we actually make it at all.

Having navigated those hurdles we then have the interminable drive South. The A1, which constitutes 30% of the journey and is supposed to be the main route south, is subject to 50 and 60mph speed restrictions and what seems like a speed camera every 200 yards. Add to that it seems to be littered with the slow moving HGV population of the UK. The remainder of the journey is on the unmentionable M1, the prospect of which is only bearable by reminding oneself that we escape 5 miles before the M25 so it could be worse!!

We could of course fly but I won't even go there. Ok.....yes I will. The airlines only offer cheap flights for those lucky enough to have employers that allow them to make arrangements 6 months or so before they wish to travel....that does not include us, and by the time we have made it to Edinburgh or Newcastle and then from Luton, Stanstead or Heathrow at the other end we might as well forget it. It takes as long as the drive and costs three times as much.

Getting from the States would probably be less hassle and less traumatic!

Anyway.......all that said I still can't wait, 6 days with my parents, two with my sister and my nieces and all that London has to offer!

More on that another time.

A waiting game

Well nothing happened, absolutely nothing............I'm not sure if I should be relieved or worried.

The manager it turned out was off today and his deputy was pleasantness personified but a strange, almost unnerving atmosphere pervaded the place. Everyone appeared normal on the surface but were to be found hidden away in little huddles, endlessly discussing the situation and expressing their anger, thoughts and concerns.

For my part I decided that for once in my life it was wisest to keep my countenance. If I'm going to have to face the music on this one I don't want my opinions passed on through the grapevine and to become 'modified' as would be inevitable.

So I'm still none the wiser and I'm left playing a waiting game, something I dislike intensely.

Into the breach.

Today is my first day back to work since all the furor began and I can't say I relish the prospect. I'm not sure at this stage if this blog has been found by my superiors or the address given to them. My tracking seems to suggest that is the case but I can't be certain. I dislike like the fact that I don't know if I will be 'walking straight into the lions mouth' or if it will be a day like any other.

To add to my misgivings I have woken feeling ill and muddle headed and despite having made the decision to go this route, I know that confrontation is not my forte. I will normally do anything for a quiet life but on this occasion I couldn't.

I suppose this is the bit where I have to really have the courage of my convictions and stand up for something I truly believe. My boss knows me quite well, knows my 'Achilles heel' and doubtless will make use of it.

Hey ho,into the breach and all that......

Deleted comment

When I began this I made the decision that any comment that was left on a post would remain whether it was good or bad. The only exception would be comment spam or anything particularly offensive.

So on the off chance that anyone noticed I deleted a comment last night from a post on the 7th July, it was at the posters request. The individual concerned mailed me, still in support of the post but asking that I remove it. I fully understand that persons fears but the wider picture is kinda scary don't you think?

A Scottish summer?

I can't remember the last time it didn't rain here. It seems to have been perpetual. Sometime in early May it began to look like summer was preparing to show its face and then it ran off again 'quick smart' Since then and particularly in the last two weeks we have been subject to a rotation of torrential rain, strong winds, hail, thunder or a mixed assortment of all of those.

Bart walking has become dictated, where possible, by a short break in the threatening cloud and I am fast learning points of shelter along our various routes. He for his part seems to thoroughly enjoy the naturally provided paddling pools and I have learned that it is not appropriate to don ones cleanest, most expensive jeans on these journeys!

I don't think it has been much different in any other part of the U.K. but surely at some point the temperature must struggle above 9 degrees c and it will be possible to at last turn the heating off and assign heavy duty fleece clothing to the wardrobe for a time.

I won't hold my breath.....

Draw your own conclusion....#3

The story, in part in least, made the front page of the local paper this morning.
I also have an unusual upturn in hits which are crying out to be traced.

(Click picture to enlage)

Report 08/07/04

On a happier note...

.... I came across 'Someone else's life' on my meanderings recently. This blog is worthy of a good read at the very least. On a return visit this morning I found this picture. It must be the best and most amusing cat photograph I have seen for a long time and it brightened my somewhat dismal day.
:o)

Thanks for permission to BLACKRAT

Yawn!

Coincidence?.....I doubt it.

It seems that my employer is trying to get hold of my website address,suddenly I keep getting warnings from many and various sources.

Strange, they were never interested before! Hmmmmm...

Draw your own conclusion...... #2

So a few people read my posting yesterday and the input I received was mostly positive. I'm not the most read blogger to put it mildly (827 hits in approx. 2 months as opposed to Non-girlfriend who I happened upon this morning and has managed 1430 in July alone!....how does she do that?) but I did manage one or two comments, emails and IRC conversations on the subject.

Among these I began to get the feeling that one or two individuals where 'warning me off', nothing heavy (as yet) but the usual 'don't get involved, it's not your fight' sort of warnings.

I'm sorry but once in a while a situation is just too important to me. It may not be directly my fight, I may end up unpopular in some quarters, make one or two enemies or perhaps worse but is prejudice, of any kind, not morally a battle we should all fight???

This particular incident may or may not be proven, it may or may not even 'go the distance' but is not even the suggestion of prejudice worthy of investigation and support?

If I over simplify this case two things 'hit me right between the eyes'.

1. If the individual concerned was sacked for 'not being up to standard', as has been suggested to me by one colleague, why was that not the reason given?

2. The perpetrator of the alleged homophobic incident is still employed.....the victim of it is not! My understanding is that homophobic behavior is contrary to our laws........wild hairstyles are not. There seems to be some discrepancy here to me, perhaps I'm missing something?

I am no angel, I am as selfish as the next person but I just can't stand by and say or do nothing in some instances. I wish sometimes that I could but I can't.