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Saturday 19 April 2008

cobwebs
I will be away from today for a while, as I am leading an expedition to deepest Borneo to discover cobwebs - those beautiful creations of spiders... I am President of the International Cobweb Appreciation Society, and leading a group of fellow enthusiasts from many different parts of the world. Each year we visit a different destination to study, photograph and name new types of cobweb. There are over 8,000 possible designs, and we discover more each trip. We take all our own gear, and camp as much as we can. Local hosts will often offer accommodation though, which is very welcome. Our members have taken over 122,000 slides of these wonders. Most of the members haven't reached the digital age yet, preferring their ancient SLR cameras with film. Members come from all English speaking countries, and are typically male, middle class, fairly well educated, single and enjoy wearing anoraks. As boys they probably collected train numbers, but have moved on to this fascinating area of the animal kingdom. They will probably spend most of their spare time studying records of past expeditions, reading the comprehensive newsletter and sorting their photographic collections. They aren't really very good with people, preferring to spend time on their own, and within the exclusive world of cobwebs. Between expeditions, they will probably visit places of interest at weekends, so they can report their findings to local meetings of the Society. There are 82 groups worldwide, with several hundred fully paid up members. What a wonderful thing it is... the world of cobwebs!

Friday 18 April 2008

tears
Tears ran down my face and dropped onto the page of the Telegraph newspaper, when I saw the horrendous photograph of two Palestinian teenage boys - innocent victims of an Israeli missile attack in Gaza - lying in the road. The one nearest the camera had a haunting look of terror in his young eyes, his T shirt was heavily stained with blood, perhaps caused by a neck injury. His mouth was open and I could imagine him calling out in fear and pain. He seemed to be dragging himself along the road, unable to stand. One of his bare feet was visible, and the twisted shape of a bicycle lay immediately behind him.
Just behind the bicycle lay an older youth, head resting on the road as a pillow, his hands clasped together in front of his face, but was he still alive? Further in the distance the blurred shapes of even more bodies.
How I wanted to reach out and comfort the boy, a mere child of war. His life interrupted for ever by the conflict of adults in a never ending quest for control and power. OMG. I pray for this boy, and all other casualties of war around the world...

Thursday 17 April 2008

raisin bread
Shopping yesterday in Tesco (helping them to raise even more billions) and when in the bread aisle, saw some raisin bread, so now enjoying a nostalgic culinary experience from my childhood days. I remember the large old pine kitchen table, lemon coloured distempered walls, red and white gingham curtains, home-made lemonade, raisin bread and butter, and the sun always shining...
Growing up was made easier by such events, and it brought to mind memories of sherbet lemons and pineapple thingys, and many more I have forgotten. I hated wearing short trousers, but loved the black and white television. Experimenting with rolled up paper tubes, and lighting the end, was my first introduction to smoking. My fear of confined spaces was born after being rolled up in an old rug (innocent playing with other children), with my hands by my sides, and being unable to move - absolute torture.
How grateful I am to have so many memories, how pleased I am to have lived long enough to recall them while I am still able to. We all fear the unknown ravaging of age, not made easier by witnessing the plight of those before us. The awareness that now I have less years ahead, than behind me, is daunting, but I am encouraged by my positive feelings and daily enjoyment of life. Each taste of the raisin bread is a joy, each bite into its slightly soggy texture is a delight, and yes - the sun is still shining.

Wednesday 16 April 2008

bluebells
Nature's wondrous sight - bluebells in the Spring covering the woodland floor as new leaves burst forth on the trees above. Early this year by several weeks - must be global warming! A fantastic sight, as blue is one of Mother Nature's rarest colours. It looks good here, but when you mix blue and green clothing it does clash a bit? I've just discovered a secret glade just 50 yards from my bungalow - a recently cleared area is suddenly bursting forth with colour, by next year it will be even better. Along with the birds at my feeder, the intermittent sunshine and now the bluebells, I am filled with the joy of Spring, and feel I should run naked through the grass and yell with the joy of life - it is so good today.

How can you walk through a bluebell wood, without treading on them?
Ben (UK)

Tuesday 15 April 2008

upset
I felt forced to write strongly worded letters to two friends because of their appalling behaviour - so I am feeling a bit bad about this. Not that I regret what I did, but that it was necessary in the first place. It had been building up for some time, thinking about it, and then it was that final step "too far" that did it. I am better at writing than talking in cases of unresolved conflict, so felt this was the way forward...
Number one was a typed letter put in a local letterbox, complaining of homophobic harassment over a long period which culminated yesterday with a grossly rude and insulting comment about me - in front of a third party. I had complained previously to him about this behaviour, but have now put my feelings in writing, for greater effect. He pretends to be a friend, says he is just teasing, but this insulting "lack of respect" is no way to treat a friend, and I don't need a friend like that, thank you. He wrote back, and the reply was on my door mat this morning. He apologised profusely, and admitted the harassment which he said would never happen again. He wants to remain friends, and says he will refrain from any sensitive comments in the future. OK, yeah, but has his attitude changed, or is he still appearing to be a gay hater? Time will tell, but I will not be so friendly in future, and prefer not to be alone with him anymore. He has irrevocably passed the limit...
Number two letter was sent by post, so might have to wait a while for a reply (if there is one). I complained to him about his frequent, and last minute, postponing of agreed dates for meetings in London. I had purchased my train ticket in advance on two occasions, which was greatly inconvenient. His lame excuses are so unbelievable, that it is obvious he is lying. He hasn't the guts to tell me the real reason, so fobs me off with rubbish. It will not do, and I have a life to lead, so told him what I thought about his behaviour, and said I didn't want to meet any more on Saturdays (our usual day every month or two). I haven't said I don't want his friendship but he may interpret my letter as such. If so, well perhaps I meant it anyway?
Now time will tell, whether these two friendships survive...

Go for it girl, let off some steam!
CK (UK)

Monday 14 April 2008

water
Yesterday morning when I turned on the television early, hoping to avoid the London Marathon hype, I stumbled upon an interview with some colourfully dressed Masai Warriors from Tanzania, about to run in the 26+ mile event. I was immediately captured by their graceful presence, and quiet manner. There were about five or six of them, and when asked they said they were here to raise money for a clean drinking water supply in their village back home. Immediately I thought - at least what £30.000 pounds, NO they said they were aiming to collect £600. Wow, I was bowled over, my eyes filled with emotion, and I stood up to listen more to what they were saying. I was horror struck with that thought of just £600 - an amount that many tv viewers in this country could have written a cheque for immediately. How modest that they should only ask for the minimum amount, and also that this amount would be sufficient.
Still in shock, I sat down again as the interview proceeded. Were they wearing the latest hi-tec trainers for this gruelling event? No, they had hand-made "shoes" carved from old rubber car tyres! Wow, again. How long did they think they would take to complete the marathon - at least 4 hours (fastest time 2 hours plus) because they would stop to sing and dance for the crowds, at intervals along the route - fantastic.
Well, this just blew me away, and I thought so much about how little so many people have, and how we could help in a really big way, by giving just a "little". I have recently been watching American Idol 2008 when they did a mega money raising show with many top names, for Africa. They were many film clips of celebs visiting starving people in Uganda, and others as well.
I believe we can make a difference, firstly by being aware. Water and food are the basic requirements of life - a human right surely? Lets do what we can, now!

Sunday 13 April 2008

obituary
Fancy writing your own obituary, why not? At least that way you could say what you wanted to, and know they got it right. Not something you can alter once it is done. Imagine writing your own death notice for a virtual newspaper, and then magically being able to live out your life according to what you had said... Thirdlife material maybe? Suppose you switched on the tv, and heard about your own death, now that would be startling, but it has happened.
A better exercise might be to write the text for your own tombstone - you'd have to be quite concise - what you have achieved, and how people remember you. If you truly achieve your life-long dreams, then this inscription will be the verbalisation of it. How many people can say they did what they wanted with their life? If you only get one chance (debatable) then you ought to be making the most of it - starting right now.
When children die, what chance do they have? Could they desire their destiny, or is death just an adult thing. Babies die before they are born, now there's a quandary - when does "life" begin?
I would hope my obituary would say I had been a useful member of society, a giver rather than a taker, and one who set an example of positive living. Time will tell...

Saturday 12 April 2008

envelopes
I have decided that you can tell a lot about a person from the way they open their mail. I have observed many carry out this activity - parents, friends, neighbours and lovers... They pick up a pile of post from the hall floor, when returning from holiday or just out. The post here often arrives in the afternoon nowadays, and there is only ever one delivery a day. Parcels could arrive at any time. Most people seem to gather their prized mail, and disappear to the kitchen table, even before going to the loo or checking the answer phone. They admit that most of the contents will be bills, yet they seem irresistibly drawn to the task. They will often stand, and with index finger poised - ready to attack the first envelope...
Envelopes are an incredible invention, probably little altered since they first appeared. Now they come in an amazing collection of types, thickness, colour and design, and this is what confuses the letter opening person in the kitchen. They are arranged in a horizontal grid pattern - then vertically, and each one is examined before the finger pounces, and rips the envelope apart. Some are held to the light, others checked for clues as to their origin - a return address or the handwriting will provide an idea, but if neither gives help to unravel the mystery of the sender, it is often put aside to open later. Like enemies, these anonymous senders are banished to the outer regions for pursuing later.
Meanwhile the finger is tearing the paper apart as each one is opened. Such is the frenzy that often envelopes are only partly opened before moving onto the next one. The envelopes will often be scattered on the floor around the person responsible. Shouts of joy or anger will usually accompany this routine. This demanding activity will often require a cup of tea during and immediately afterwards (made by someone else). By now the intensity is diminishing, and a heap of correspondence lies in a pile, awaiting sometimes, urgent action. This rarely happens, and because of mis-filing may even get thrown away. The re-cycling regime should now kick in, but rarely does. Have the windows from window envelopes been cut out, any staples removed, and cardboard put aside.
As for me, well rather boringly (with the letter opener) I tackle the pile of mail in the order it presents itself. Each one is seen and sorted filed into piles. The trash is trashed, and I will be sitting down. This is always the last job to do after arriving home.

Friday 11 April 2008

food
At present, I hate my body, and feel grossly fat. The main problem is my increasing belly size, caused by over eating since giving up smoking in January 2007. There has been a stone or more increase, and I am afraid to weigh myself. I believe the current value is over 13 stone. Need to be back to max 12 stone. I can still get into a 34" waist, but the belly bulge is really upsetting me.
A friend has been telling me about her Weight Watchers points system which sounds good, and achievable. I know it is the extra calories, and not enough exercise, but just doing something about it is the hard thing. I often enjoy the nearly hungry feeling, and despise myself for allowing the "over eating" - just the wrong things. I am sure it is controllable.
I started the food diary ten days ago, and can now see clearly what is the problem. Apart from too large portions, it is all the sweet things that I love so much. So I have to tackle this on several fronts at once. Think I will need help. Have read about the boot camps, but this maybe too much for me to cope with, and I don't know what they cost anyway.
Fed up!

Thursday 10 April 2008

unknown
Last night I was invited to an informal dinner party, with two other guests, one of whom I know well, together with the hostess, but the fourth person is unknown to me. It could be like a blind date without the "date". I asked my friend about this person, and he answered as best he could... George was in his seventies, a retired accountant, three children living in different parts of the world, and a keen bridge and tennis player. There was so much to find out about this man, what did he look like, what was he like as a person, and would he be easy to get on with? We all make judgements, based on names, the sound of their voice or what they "do" etc. This can be a dangerous thing to do, and something I try to avoid if I can. I felt it was important to know a little about this dinner guest before meeting, so that I could ask a key question or two, and maybe not ask something that could embarrass.
Armed with this information my friend and I arrived before George, and started on pre dinner drinks and crisps. He shortly arrived, greeting hostess and my friend first, then I was introduced, and I repeated my name, but at that time I didn't know he was hard of hearing, so it was some time later that he asked me what my name was! I told him, and then we went into dinner. The hostess had two staff, so it was a joy to be served in such a grand manner. I was placed opposite George, so It was easy to chat in a group or privately to him. He was very easy to talk to, and had a wealth of experience as he had travelled greatly. He had known lots of "famous" people and enjoyed telling me (as a new person) about his life. I discovered many of his interests, and we shared a love of photography. In spite of his public school and university education he was actually OK, and didn't speak with a plumb in his mouth. Perhaps because of his working life in Africa, he appreciated that there were people less fortunate than himself.
The evening passed quickly, and courses came and went. The conversation was delightful, and the food was excellent. Meeting the unknown guest actually turned out to be a pleasure, because when we were saying our final greetings, he pulled me towards him and kissed me gently on my cheek. He caressed my bottom erotically, and said how lovely I was. I grinned like a teenage girl and said... well, thank you. He slipped a business card into my hand, and asked me to call him. Now, what should I do...?

Wednesday 9 April 2008

old fashioned
Yesterday I had the rare experience of visiting a house worth £700.000 or more, near Guildford in Surrey. It had been occupied by an old lady of 95, who has just died. The house was designed for her and her husband in 1935, and built to the highest possible standards of that time, with every available gadget, from around the world. They were in the fortunate position of inheriting a large fortune and the family business. Her husband had died some fifty years ago, and she refused to allow any changes or improvements since that time, not even re-wiring. They did not have any children, and she always said she would never re-marry, which I believe was quite common in those days.
The 5 bedroom detached, two storey family house is situated in several acres of mature garden, and you can see where the tennis court used to be. There is a large fish pond, with fountain, and several separate gardens with walls and walkways dividing them. To the back of the house is a small lake, with enormous lawns stretching into the sunset...
Now the most amazing thing about the house is that it is just as it was some fifty years back. Imagine you are in a Doctor Who episode, and the Tardis has just landed in 1950 something. Well, the occupants of the house have just gone out, and there it is with every original fitting, carpet, curtains, panelling, bathroom and bedroom etc. The kitchen is a special place, with its Aga cooker and tiled walls. Quite small compared to modern day kitchens. The old fashioned cupboards are those that we would remember from our grandparents homes. The worn tiled floor, and old pine table... Pots and pans from "museums", and bone handled cutlery. The pretty, brightly coloured china was a delight to see and touch, although nothing matched, and it was very chipped and cracked! I could see the house as a National Trust property.
In the double garage would have been a Rolls Royce and an Oldsmobile, according to an old photograph. The large garage is empty now, but there are still the tools and paraphernalia of a car enthusiast. They never had any children, but were great dog lovers and had several at any one time. Every pet must have had its portrait painted, as the library walls are covered in beautiful dog pictures. They travelled a lot, had properties elsewhere, and enjoyed life to the full. A tragedy that he was to die so young, and leave her to manage on her own, but she established a full social life, and enjoyed her remaining time. The loyal staff stayed to the end, and the gardener has worked there for 23 years.
Already the property has raised a lot of interest, some potential purchasers not even going into the house, because they want to demolish it and built a number of luxury homes on the plot. I am sure this will be the destiny of the house as local councils will easily give planning permission for this type of change. A pity though, because it would be a lovely family home, with pets and children running around.
One thing for sure, I won't be putting in an offer!

Tuesday 8 April 2008

wildlife
I now know the difference between a rook and a crow. The carrion crow is completely black, whereas the adult rook will have a white to grey beak. A grey squirrel may live to be nine years old. Also that there are EDIBLE species like a frog and a dormouse - no thank you! I am learning fast from a beautifully illustrated garden wildlife book donated by a friendly neighbour in honour of the setting up my bird feeding station. It has quickly attracted many different visitors, and it is a privilege to observe their feeding and playing - six squirrels together, one day this week. Mind you, they "hoover" up the seed from the lawn - meant for the birds! One of the squirrels, perhaps a parent used to enjoy climbing the pole to reach the fat ball (in a cage) suspended from the top. He attacked this so vigourously recently, that I decided to grease the pole to prevent him climbing up. So far this has worked.
Gradually one or two unusual species of birds are arriving, and I am conferring with neighbours and friends to exchange my experiences, and picking up observation tips from them.
The busiest time seems to be in the early morning. I have to open my curtains very carefully so as not to startle them. There, in front of my living room window is the breakfast restaurant for so many different types of birds. They generally get on well, with large and small tolerating each other. I am getting to know the interesting behaviour characteristics of different breeds. I love the shy pigeon, waiting on the edge. I am amused by the small squirrel charging a large crow (who will retreat). Inspite of their size, crows are nervous visitors. The smaller birds have a smaller appetite, but come repeatedly for another helping. They must be nesting nearby. The greedy (but hungry) Magpie will eat anything off the ground, and the delightful robin is quite brave. Squirrels will often sit on their hind legs and eat a peanut, holding it with both hands. They sometimes are sitting just below my window, and will look directly at me. One summer lunchtime I was having a picnic in the garden behind the Brompton Oratory in London, where the squirrels were very tame. They would run down your arm, and eat directly from your hand. This is when I found they had very sharp claws and teeth!

Monday 7 April 2008

driving
I accepted an invitation to drive a friend's rather splendid new Mercedes, the day before yesterday. I don't know what model it was, but it had a 3.2 litre engine, 4 doors, and was the traditional silver colour, with white leather upholstery. Very fast! I only drove it a few miles and did enjoy the short lived experience, but generally I don't like driving nowadays. I find it far too stressful. I take a lot of pills to combat my hypertension, and generally try to avoid confrontational situations.
A few weeks ago I drove another friend's car 70 miles, including half the journey on a motorway. Motorways in particular I dislike, as the speed and quantity of vehicles is very intimidating. It was horrendous, although off peak and not too busy, I found the whole experience quite alarming. Even before I started I felt anxious and nervous about doing it. You know that cold sweat feeling - I had it, plus palpitation, a dry throat and body shaking. Even after a few miles my hands were still clammy. I felt nauseous and breathless. I dread to think what my blood pressure was at this time. It took me about thirty miles before I could say that I was feeling "better". Now that's no good is it. How can I say I am a safe driver if I feel like that... Well I am a safe driver, but as a responsible driver I have to say this is something I ought to avoid...
I don't like travelling on water either. I used to joke about feeling sea sick when walking to the end of Worthing pier! I have recently travelled in a comfortable catamaran on the river Thames, and I managed that - well I could see both banks! When crossing the English Channel one winter in a hovercraft, it was very rough, and I was so ill - you wouldn't want to hear... The short sea crossing to the Isle of Wight is a nightmare, travelling through the Channel Tunnel is very unpleasant, and you know about my dread of flying already.
Trains and coaches seem OK, but I hate travelling in the rear of a car, unless it has four doors. I would never attempt to drive in inclement weather, and look for any excuse not to do it, so perhaps it is time to pack away the old driving gloves, and in a few years when the driving licence needs renewing ... I'll see.

Sunday 6 April 2008

postage
Tomorrow the price of a first class stamp increases to 36p, and 2nd class to 27p. In order to beat the price rise I have ordered some envelopes - franked 1st class, from Royal Mail. They arrived the next day, very good service. I would have ordered 100 stamps only, but with the added postage, it was almost as much as this price, with envelopes attached! I will have to buy some loose stamps, but the envelopes will be very useful. I wish I could have afforded to order more.
While I was at the web site I found something of interest - Smileys. They are your own created postage stamps with an uploaded image - pic of me! So this "you" stamp is attached to the official one of the Queen - is that two queens together? It takes up to two weeks, so should be fun. You only get 20, so quite expensive!
The postage rates seem exorbitant. How do old ladies cope - sending out their Christmas cards is going to be prohibitive. They need a postage allowance as well as the heating allowance. During the last few months, price rises in the supermarket have been enormous, see what bread costs now! Fuel prices, council tax... yet they only have a small pension, and maybe live in a much bigger house than they need or can afford, because their partner has died, and the children have grown up and moved away. A friend of mine in Worthing was in this position, and sold the equity in her property for a lump sum. This meant she could pay off her mortgage, and have a large amount to spend as she wishes. The downside is of course that there is no property to leave the children, and also the difficulties of moving house is she wished to move to a flat, because of restrictions over selling. She may not rent the house out, and the value of the lump sum has diminished considerably because of increasing inflation. She is between a rock and a hard place. Trapped. Maintenance of the property is an increasing burden, and what will she do if she needs to go into residential care later?
Sometimes being in my position, without material possessions is better? My problems are of a different nature...
Now where is my address book?

Saturday 5 April 2008

St Albans
The local coach tour operators' summer day trips brochure arrived today, I'll look at it carefully and do one or two trips later, but yesterday went by regular bus to the city of St Albans. Just one change at Hemel Hempstead with a bus every 15 minutes, and the journey taking 20 minutes or so. Met my friend at Hemel, and we boarded the next bus. The route is quite rural between Hemel and St Albans. Whereas Hemel is built low down in a valley, St Albans is on top of a hill, so you can see it from a great distance as you approach. An ancient settlement built there as a fortress to defend the surrounding area.
My lady friend never stops talking, so I dutifully listen to her gossip, and occasionally interject with a suitable comment. We had coffee soon after we arrived, and then toured the charity shops. In a better area, the merchandise is good quality. We both bought things, me - some video tapes, and her some clothes. It was soon time for lunch, and off we go to a small and friendly cafe near the Abbey. Imagine you order what you want, we went dutch, and then she says, no wonder you've got high cholesterol. Well, it puts you off, doesn't it. I don't need her comments about my food, but I hold back, and just make a minor comment instead of the verbal onslaught I would have liked to deliver. After lunch we saunter to the Abbey, then split up for a look around, meeting back at the bookshop. How lovely to enjoy the peace of the Abbey, on my own.
Walking from the Abbey back towards to shops, we encounter a pet rabbit running wild, supervised by the owner, who explains that Princess Twinkle (yes, that's what it was called) had recently had an expensive operation on her left eye following an infection. This little rabbit seems quite happy to be out on a sunny afternoon, and the woman said she had spent thousands of pounds on vets bills and homeopathic medicine.
It was time for afternoon tea, but we couldn't easily find a favourite restaurant, so we opted for a modest cafe near the Theatre. The refreshments were also modest, but we felt better for them. So, now, back to the bus for the short journey home.
A good trip, on a fine day, but too much chat...

Friday 4 April 2008

friendship
From now I am sticking with Ted. Like I've just discovered about gays and friendship... Impossible, you can't have a friendship with a gay guy - all they want is one thing. At all ages, they are totally fixated by their cock. For months I have been seeking companionship, and what do I get, people promising the earth, but only wanting a one night stand. They say they just want a friend, but when it comes to it, they just want cock. I am really disappointed, but should have known better. I've been one all my life, so I must know what "they" are like. Perhaps I was the same. The same hypocrisy, the same lies and deceit, and all in the quest for instant sex, then on to the next one...
I am fed up with extraordinary emails, furtive phone calls, and headless pix - are they all married or what? Fancy living with a liar and a cheat, well there are many about. How do you know your partner is not sleeping with strangers? No wonder more than half of marriages last less than 4 years. Exclusively gay (allegedly) men send out of date pictures, only ever give mobile telephone numbers, and can never accommodate. What about a true gay, is there one out there?
I sometimes look in The Telegraph at their weekly dating page, and most of the guys advertising are seeking older gents with a good standard of living, a generous friend or similar. So, its clear to see the rent boy is still alive and well...
Luckily I have several women friends, who know the score, so don't hassle me. You can hug, and kiss them, without any problems, thank goodness.
So from now on, its just teddy and me...

You don't mean it, do you?
"Randy" (UK)

Thursday 3 April 2008

O M G
Swearing is so prevalent now, the impact is minimised, but I am still taken aback when I hear children doing it. Essex girls do it all the time... Fuck seems to be the all time favourite, and on some tv shows after the watershed, it is not bleeped out any more. Like in Whose Line or similar shows. I have noticed the bleeping gets shorter, so you can still identify the word because you hear the beginning and the end. Swear words in print, usually have f***ing stars to replace the missing letters. I suppose you still shouldn't swear in church or a court, and I am sure MP's are not allowed to do it in the House, or tv news readers either.
I don't like it, and when swearing becomes blasphemy, I like it even less. It seems so unnecessary, and a loss of self control, a complete lack of respect for yourself and others. It goes with the territory of society breakdown. Swear words are usually said at a louder volume, or s-h-o-u-t-e-d, so are they emotional verbal expressions of anger? Swearing is such a negative pastime, and I am sure this anglo saxon language could be modified.
As a boy, learning the "adult" language of swearing was a coming of age ritual, and we would search dictionaries for swear (and sex) words. We learnt them from our peers, or our parents.
I am so pleased to hear of keeping standards alive, when I read about most social networking sites stating no swearing, hate or nudity - not sure about the last one? It is a cross cultural activity, with posher people actually swearing more - my survey figures!
I am sure followers of any organisation devoted to manners and respect would not tolerate swearing, so why should we... Lets cut it down, the world would be a better place for it.
Now, I know you have been wondering about this blog title - O M G, well that's my alternative to swearing (Oh my God!) just shout O M G instead. You could initialise anything I am sure. F H could be "fucking hell". F O is "fuck off", and Y C stands for "you cunt". Any more suggestions?

Wednesday 2 April 2008

bus pass
It used to be a joke about having a pass pass, like it was the final chapter of life, well maybe it is, but it has given a new lease of life to countless elderlies in England with the new national bus pass. I've got one, albeit a temporary one - they've had two years to prepare for this, and still they are not ready! They say you can use your old one, but can you imagine some grumpy old bus driver quickly saying NO to that! This means I can travel anywhere in England using local buses, after 9.30 am. Luckily my Hertfordshire card entitles me to travel anytime, in this county - well done them. The card may not be used in Wales or Scotland though, perhaps this will follow later? I believe also that it is not available in London, which is a great pity.
This is one of the greatest things the Labour government has introduced. It means that old folk can be more mobile, when they probably wouldn't have before. The population is getting older, but fitter than previously, so now they will get out more and explore. This means they will spend money at their destination if only on coffee or lunch, and communities will certainly benefit. Retired people will be happier and more motivated. They will socialise more, and meet new people. Excellent. This gives them the purpose to get moving. Something to get up for, each day. Well done.
I am planning journeys to the far corners of the country, if I can find out which routes operate where, and at what time. I'll be searching on the internet for that...
Maybe next, we could have free broadband as well?

Tuesday 1 April 2008

Time
Time's up for Britain, according to world famous American Time magazine, started in the 1920's. The latest (European) edition of the magazine includes a major article by Catherine Mayer who writes about an epidemic of violent crime, teen pregnancy, heavy drinking and drug abuse, which she says fuels fears that British youth is in crisis. Dead right! We have let down the youth of the country, and successive governments have failed to take a lead. So many factors are to blame, but this is symptomatic of the breakdown of the family and therefore society. We need to look back to explain the predicament we are now in...
The fabric of Britain is now fragmented, and core values have disintegrated. At the centre of this is the family. The security of marriage is gone, and with tax breaks many years ago, couples found it beneficial to live together, rather than get married. This meant that was less commitment, and consequently more single parent families. Multiple partners became the norm. Children in these circumstances stood less chance of success in education, socialising and career. The Conservatives promised to tackle law and order in Mrs Thatcher's early days, but nothing happened, and the influence of "Europe" meant silly political correctness laws. Gradually the European influence has meant loss of power and identity to this country. The mass immigration has further unsettled the balance of life in every town and village across Britain.
See how Americans are proud of their country, inspite of the their mixed race culture. We don't have that any more, and even our troops seem despised. There is no leadership or example. Even the Royal Family let us down, with poor social behaviour (e.g. Princes' William and Harry). Only the Queens' marriage is intact. Church leaders and politicians behave badly, and seem to be in it for what they can get out of it. Celebrities behave even worse.
So with that, and the constant influence of violence from tv and computer games, what hope is there for young children, who grow into unsocial yobs, without respect for anyone or anything, and who quickly become parents of similar children.
Whatever is done now, will take several generations to take effect. ASBO's seem to have little result, prisons are full, most jobs go to immigrants. What incentive is their for young people to work, when their families have been on benefits for years, and when they live in poor social housing. The easy route must be for drug taking, sex and booze.
Never mind, global warming is advancing so quickly that ...

It was a nice blog today - hitting the nail on the head about UK society!
CK (UK)