On the issue of student tuition fees here in England, I feel very strongly.
Some of this comes from a sense of guilt. I was lucky enough to have recieved a monetary grant to do my degree back in the good ol' days. Not so long ago in fact, at the end of the 1980's and beginning of the 1990's. I was probably one of the last students to benefit from grant aid and still things were pretty tough.
All of this aside however, I am wondering how it would be if there were no university students. After all, who exactly benefits from their knowledge? Is it just the graduates? Society would surely come to a stand still in all of its necessary functions. And for those of you who believe that the would be artists, designers, 'movers and shakers' are not in need of a degree, I do not agree. Student life provides a hub of opportunity to make real life connections with others, to bounce and share ideas and knowledge, which is just as important as the lectures and seminars.
Whereas I understand the need for our universities to have the financial means to maintain international standing, I also believe that as everyone benefits then we should all be prepared to pay. The current proposal is for our students to take on a large 'loan'. Including living expences, many will be needing £50,000 and more by the time they have finished their studies, and this is probably an underestimate. For most it is a shocking amount of money to be in debt by, and will impair the chance of home ownership in the future. Even more worrying is that it will be prohibitively expensive for those who do not have the luxury of parents and family with 'means'. Quite literally some people will be priced out of the market and the opportunity for gaining a university degree will not be available. It can be deduced from this that there may be a class divide as to who gains and who doesn't. To add insult to injury, the new fees will come into force in 2012, which is far too soon for most families with children wishing to attend over the next year or so to make financial adjustments to help cover the costs. It is not surprising therefore that so many have been protesting so adamantly at these injustices.
This is a backward step for our country and for those Liberal Democrat MP's who have reneged on their signed pledge not to raise university student tuition fees, they know it regardless of how they squirm in denial. I finish as I began, even though I did not sign a pledge, I personally feel very embarrassed at having been given the opportunity to obtain my degree with grant aid, but my son does not. I have one year to adjust after making financial plans for the past seventeen of my child's life to give him some assistance. What I can offer will only cover half of his costs, but if I had been given better advanced warning, I might have been able to do more.
Monday, 29 November 2010
Monday, 13 September 2010
Oh Happy Day
I had a great day out on Saturday at an arts festival. The whole of the city centre is turned into a weekend arts extravaganza, featuring every type of art: fine art, arts and crafts, performance art. Folk are invited to view and participate and artists give the weekend up as a 'free for all' using the event as a platform to promote their wares.
Wandering around, taking in the music on the streets, sound and dancing spilling out of the bars, watching the inpromptu performances whilst enjoying an icecream in the sunshine, what was there not to enjoy? We saw a lovely folk-rock band, 'Elfyn', in the Symphony Hall, witnessed a brilliant taster from a production of the 'Little Shop of Horrors', moved on to a rock duo, 'The Black and Reds' it was unbeliveable how the pair could make such a big and wholly assured sound, and they were also very good. I had leaflets pressed into my hands informing me of the various classes and events that were going on in my home area: Salsa Dance, Jive and the Lindyhop, sounded good fun. Maybe I will give them both a go. Past the craft stalls, each an art installation in their own right with various unique and beautiful items for sale: jewellary, hats, bags, candles, greetings cards. We saw kids practicing Hip Hop, others 'givin it up' for graffiti art. I witnessed heart stopping smiles on the faces of all the folk passing by. Such enjoyment and peace amongst the crowd as large as it was felt a very proud moment for me.
We ended up in one of the large city pubs - The Old Joint Stock; it has a theatre, in its attic I think, as we had to climb many stairs! We saw a talented actor deliver a monologue from a play written by new playwright, David Hendon and followed this with pie and chips back down in the pub's homey eatery. It was a great ending to a great day. Well done to all who made it happen.
Wandering around, taking in the music on the streets, sound and dancing spilling out of the bars, watching the inpromptu performances whilst enjoying an icecream in the sunshine, what was there not to enjoy? We saw a lovely folk-rock band, 'Elfyn', in the Symphony Hall, witnessed a brilliant taster from a production of the 'Little Shop of Horrors', moved on to a rock duo, 'The Black and Reds' it was unbeliveable how the pair could make such a big and wholly assured sound, and they were also very good. I had leaflets pressed into my hands informing me of the various classes and events that were going on in my home area: Salsa Dance, Jive and the Lindyhop, sounded good fun. Maybe I will give them both a go. Past the craft stalls, each an art installation in their own right with various unique and beautiful items for sale: jewellary, hats, bags, candles, greetings cards. We saw kids practicing Hip Hop, others 'givin it up' for graffiti art. I witnessed heart stopping smiles on the faces of all the folk passing by. Such enjoyment and peace amongst the crowd as large as it was felt a very proud moment for me.
We ended up in one of the large city pubs - The Old Joint Stock; it has a theatre, in its attic I think, as we had to climb many stairs! We saw a talented actor deliver a monologue from a play written by new playwright, David Hendon and followed this with pie and chips back down in the pub's homey eatery. It was a great ending to a great day. Well done to all who made it happen.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
A Drop In the Ocean
I've recently given up my day job and the financial security that went with it. I say that it was a big decision, but I am not certain how much deciding, as in reasoning went into it.
On reflection, I think that it was a gut reaction based on a series of events. I now feel as if I am on the precipice of a cliff daring myself to jump off the edge. The job was only meant to be a stop-gap anyway. A part-time no big deal sort of a job that was a second to seeing my son through his schooling.
Anyway, we all change over time, and 11 years have gone by since I first took it up and now I want to get on with my life. And that involves having a rethink.
I have the time now for example to really explore this blogger package. I had no idea that there was so much in it. I've been writing these damn blogs for months now, as a kind of cartharsis I think, but never got around to actively sharing them.
Well it's time for a change. I am going to put myself out there into cyberworld but sitting at my laptop in my bedroom right now, even doing that feels like falling into the ocean, but here goes!
On reflection, I think that it was a gut reaction based on a series of events. I now feel as if I am on the precipice of a cliff daring myself to jump off the edge. The job was only meant to be a stop-gap anyway. A part-time no big deal sort of a job that was a second to seeing my son through his schooling.
Anyway, we all change over time, and 11 years have gone by since I first took it up and now I want to get on with my life. And that involves having a rethink.
I have the time now for example to really explore this blogger package. I had no idea that there was so much in it. I've been writing these damn blogs for months now, as a kind of cartharsis I think, but never got around to actively sharing them.
Well it's time for a change. I am going to put myself out there into cyberworld but sitting at my laptop in my bedroom right now, even doing that feels like falling into the ocean, but here goes!
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
RIP Ms Virginia Creeper
I've been away for a while. I've been having a re-think on the way my life has been panning out and I know that I am going to have to make a few changes in order to feel good about living.
I've just had a lovely week in the north Yorkshire moors, very peaceful and tranquil, not even the mobile phone works. Being up there was like visiting another country, it was so different to what I usually experience. I awoke to sheep bleeting, cockerills crowing and birds twittering. When I was outside I could rotate on my axis through 360 degrees and not see a single manmade item - anywhere, just hills and fields and sky, loads and loads of sky. It made me feel good; it took several days to unwind but when I did I felt very peaceful. I didn't need sunshine either, anything was ok by me, rain and wind even in the Summer; just to feel the elements on my skin was pleasant. I really know that it did me a power of good and I know that this is not an illusion
It also comes as no surprise to hear that doctors are now recommending, or prescribing as they would put it, time out in parks and areas where there is greeenery, trees and shrubs. All that I already know from my holidays in the countryside has now apparently become a scientific fact - how bizarre.
Now a work colleague has informed me that he has a secret dream, to live away from it all and to build himself a house of hay bales in a plot of land where he will be able to live by growing his own fruit and veg. Once upon a time I would have thought that he was mad but now I am not so sure. Now when I think of his dream I feel a certain envy and admire his daring. It would be hard manual work to pull it off, but even so I would prefer to do heavy work in my garden any day of the year to a day in the office, no question about it.
And so, I've been having a re-think on the way my life has been panning out and I know that I am going to have to make a few changes in order to feel good about living.
When I returned home from the week's holiday, my husband went out into our garden and pulled a much loved Virginia Creeper off from the wall on the back of our house because it was proving to be too difficult to manage. Pruning on a high step ladder is not without its dangers. Left with the bare pink house bricks, we both knew that he had removed something that had been very magical for both of us in the garden. A certain greeness that had soothed the eye, a place where birds had nested many times over many years, it had given the house a certain grandeur which it is now denied. This shrub had taken a long time to grow but was stripped away within a few hours and I shall miss it badly; its removal has upset my equilibrium and I feel its loss as though a loved one has passed away.
I've just had a lovely week in the north Yorkshire moors, very peaceful and tranquil, not even the mobile phone works. Being up there was like visiting another country, it was so different to what I usually experience. I awoke to sheep bleeting, cockerills crowing and birds twittering. When I was outside I could rotate on my axis through 360 degrees and not see a single manmade item - anywhere, just hills and fields and sky, loads and loads of sky. It made me feel good; it took several days to unwind but when I did I felt very peaceful. I didn't need sunshine either, anything was ok by me, rain and wind even in the Summer; just to feel the elements on my skin was pleasant. I really know that it did me a power of good and I know that this is not an illusion
It also comes as no surprise to hear that doctors are now recommending, or prescribing as they would put it, time out in parks and areas where there is greeenery, trees and shrubs. All that I already know from my holidays in the countryside has now apparently become a scientific fact - how bizarre.
Now a work colleague has informed me that he has a secret dream, to live away from it all and to build himself a house of hay bales in a plot of land where he will be able to live by growing his own fruit and veg. Once upon a time I would have thought that he was mad but now I am not so sure. Now when I think of his dream I feel a certain envy and admire his daring. It would be hard manual work to pull it off, but even so I would prefer to do heavy work in my garden any day of the year to a day in the office, no question about it.
And so, I've been having a re-think on the way my life has been panning out and I know that I am going to have to make a few changes in order to feel good about living.
When I returned home from the week's holiday, my husband went out into our garden and pulled a much loved Virginia Creeper off from the wall on the back of our house because it was proving to be too difficult to manage. Pruning on a high step ladder is not without its dangers. Left with the bare pink house bricks, we both knew that he had removed something that had been very magical for both of us in the garden. A certain greeness that had soothed the eye, a place where birds had nested many times over many years, it had given the house a certain grandeur which it is now denied. This shrub had taken a long time to grow but was stripped away within a few hours and I shall miss it badly; its removal has upset my equilibrium and I feel its loss as though a loved one has passed away.
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Is There Anybody Out There?
I have read a number of articles about loneliness recently. I notice that the media will latch on to a certain theme and suddenly it pops up everywhere - telly and radio. Anyway, last weekend it was loneliness - with a slightly different spin you might wonder? What could be so very newsworthy, hasn't loneliness always been a human 'thing'?
Well apparently I read that in this day and age because we are all so very work oriented and focussed on the daily grind, we don't have time for one another, leisure and pleasure time. And because we communicate electronically, we seem to think that this will suffice our human need to connect. And in order to chase employment we often have to move away from our roots; family and friends. There are also a number of friendships that break down due to the increasing divorce levels that cause social allegiences to go awry. And of course there is the recession and the rise in unemployment coupled with our diminishing pensions which means that we have less disposable income for going out and entertaining even if we wanted to. Oh and I nearly forgot about the number of people who simply become too depressed to want to socialise in any respect.
So is all of this new and newsworthy? Is loneliness really on the increase or has it always been a part of the human condition that most of us have to face at some time or another? There must be something in the air for the media to make it the fad of the mnoment.
Perhaps for football fans the big international game will bring a little camaraderie back into our lives. And another observation - when we are involved in something or other, even an emergency or catastrophe, we seem to evolve as human beings, relate and show compassion and empathy, which we soon forget for some reason when we are living less eventful lives.
And the articles inform us that being alone does not equate with loneliness, well we are not morons. Most would know this to be the case.
Perhaps the odd smile here and there might not go amiss. We often pass the time of day on public transport, queuing in shops, waiting at the photocopier, sitting in the canteen, why not occasionally take a leap of faith and try being friendly, have a natter to break the quiet. This might help cushion the insular feelings that can so often cause so much sadness and make us question if we are being shunned and whether we conduct ourselves appropriately or not. In 99 percent of cases it is more to do with society in general going wrong, and at this moment we are going through the most dreadful slump. Each individual however makes up the mass and so we only have ourselves to blame, and only we can each do something to change things for the better.
Well apparently I read that in this day and age because we are all so very work oriented and focussed on the daily grind, we don't have time for one another, leisure and pleasure time. And because we communicate electronically, we seem to think that this will suffice our human need to connect. And in order to chase employment we often have to move away from our roots; family and friends. There are also a number of friendships that break down due to the increasing divorce levels that cause social allegiences to go awry. And of course there is the recession and the rise in unemployment coupled with our diminishing pensions which means that we have less disposable income for going out and entertaining even if we wanted to. Oh and I nearly forgot about the number of people who simply become too depressed to want to socialise in any respect.
So is all of this new and newsworthy? Is loneliness really on the increase or has it always been a part of the human condition that most of us have to face at some time or another? There must be something in the air for the media to make it the fad of the mnoment.
Perhaps for football fans the big international game will bring a little camaraderie back into our lives. And another observation - when we are involved in something or other, even an emergency or catastrophe, we seem to evolve as human beings, relate and show compassion and empathy, which we soon forget for some reason when we are living less eventful lives.
And the articles inform us that being alone does not equate with loneliness, well we are not morons. Most would know this to be the case.
Perhaps the odd smile here and there might not go amiss. We often pass the time of day on public transport, queuing in shops, waiting at the photocopier, sitting in the canteen, why not occasionally take a leap of faith and try being friendly, have a natter to break the quiet. This might help cushion the insular feelings that can so often cause so much sadness and make us question if we are being shunned and whether we conduct ourselves appropriately or not. In 99 percent of cases it is more to do with society in general going wrong, and at this moment we are going through the most dreadful slump. Each individual however makes up the mass and so we only have ourselves to blame, and only we can each do something to change things for the better.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Through A Rose Tinted Wine Glass
On one of our balmy evenings recently, whilst outside enjoying an evening meal in the garden and I must also add following a couple of large glasses of wine, I decided that I would put the world to rights.
It all took shape in my mind by looking at things from the perspective of an alternative universe.
"What if it was just a normal thing to have a three day week end" I said to my husband and son, "or even better, just a three and a half day workiing week", I was getting enthusiastic for this idea.
They both looked at me - "Nah, it wouldn't be feasible" said my husband, always a pessimist I think. However I continued with my plan.
"For if we shared work across the week, then there would be more job opportunities," my enthusiasm gathering. "Less people out of work and more challenging roles for all those poor disillusioned graduates who are leaving university with nothing to do." My husband muttered something about it being a very nice concept but - I knew he was about to interrupt my flow with boring things like economic necessity so I carried on very quickly.
"Yes but, with all the extra time that we had off, we could do all the things that we only ever dreamed of, develop and create more work or find self employment opportunities". Boy I thought, why am I not the PM.
"Yes Dad, like you could restore vintage motor bikes", I love my son he's a real chip off the. "And Mum could write books couldn't you Mum?" Like I said - off the old block. "The likelihood is though Mum," my son continued with a serious expression on his face, "is that most people would be forced to look for two jobs instead of one to make ends meet."
"Exactly so" my husband said in that tone of voice which simulataneously means 'told you so'.
"Nice try though" my son said giving me a pitying smile - my consolation prize.
It all took shape in my mind by looking at things from the perspective of an alternative universe.
"What if it was just a normal thing to have a three day week end" I said to my husband and son, "or even better, just a three and a half day workiing week", I was getting enthusiastic for this idea.
They both looked at me - "Nah, it wouldn't be feasible" said my husband, always a pessimist I think. However I continued with my plan.
"For if we shared work across the week, then there would be more job opportunities," my enthusiasm gathering. "Less people out of work and more challenging roles for all those poor disillusioned graduates who are leaving university with nothing to do." My husband muttered something about it being a very nice concept but - I knew he was about to interrupt my flow with boring things like economic necessity so I carried on very quickly.
"Yes but, with all the extra time that we had off, we could do all the things that we only ever dreamed of, develop and create more work or find self employment opportunities". Boy I thought, why am I not the PM.
"Yes Dad, like you could restore vintage motor bikes", I love my son he's a real chip off the. "And Mum could write books couldn't you Mum?" Like I said - off the old block. "The likelihood is though Mum," my son continued with a serious expression on his face, "is that most people would be forced to look for two jobs instead of one to make ends meet."
"Exactly so" my husband said in that tone of voice which simulataneously means 'told you so'.
"Nice try though" my son said giving me a pitying smile - my consolation prize.
Monday, 31 May 2010
'Young at Heart' - Old Ad-age
The problem is that I know that I should be behaving in a grown up and responsible manner, acting my age and thinking sensibly about - oh - things, but I find that this is just not happening.
When I was young I used to believe that grown ups knew innately how to be sensible. Now I am discovering that this is simply not the case and I do not have an answer to help me out.
It's not that I do anything that is completely disasterous, or illegal, it's just that I still feel very young and not as confident as I thought I might be now that I'm - 'grown up'. Do others experience this I wonder, or do I go against the grain? Maybe there's something wrong with me? These questions sound like teenage angst only in reverse. There isn't a name for it is there? It can't be mid-life crisis as this just happens to men - doesn't it?
I keep thinking that if I ignore the problem it might go away. Every so often something makes me realise that it hasn't. Like when I know that it is essential to prepare for something in advance but I don't and I end up in a panic or late. Or when I have to make sure that I don't loose something that is really important, and I nearly always do. These are the things that I warn my adolescent son about, and yet I actually do not heed my own advice.
Maybe I should just resign myself to not really suiting old age after all and carry on taking comfort in the old adage that I am just young at heart.
When I was young I used to believe that grown ups knew innately how to be sensible. Now I am discovering that this is simply not the case and I do not have an answer to help me out.
It's not that I do anything that is completely disasterous, or illegal, it's just that I still feel very young and not as confident as I thought I might be now that I'm - 'grown up'. Do others experience this I wonder, or do I go against the grain? Maybe there's something wrong with me? These questions sound like teenage angst only in reverse. There isn't a name for it is there? It can't be mid-life crisis as this just happens to men - doesn't it?
I keep thinking that if I ignore the problem it might go away. Every so often something makes me realise that it hasn't. Like when I know that it is essential to prepare for something in advance but I don't and I end up in a panic or late. Or when I have to make sure that I don't loose something that is really important, and I nearly always do. These are the things that I warn my adolescent son about, and yet I actually do not heed my own advice.
Maybe I should just resign myself to not really suiting old age after all and carry on taking comfort in the old adage that I am just young at heart.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Finding Calmer
In the past I have been described as a 'morbid obsessive' by a so called friend at the time who was doing some studies in psychology, eventually to be let loose as a teacher for primary school children. Heaven help them whoever they might have been.
Looking back she was wild and exciting to be with, but now I would definately label her as a juvenile delinquent with possible tendencies to bi-polar depressive states. Anyhow, with many years gone by since I last saw her, I have come to realise that deep down I knew that there was an element of truth in her observation. Back then her remark hurt my feelings. I wanted to be perceived as zany and as free spirited as she was, not to come across as a worry guts, like my Mum already. I have always been too concerned about the consequences and the effects that my actions might have on others, or how I might be percieved, to really let go and live in the moment.
Now with too much water under the bridge, and for my friend too I suspect, wherever she might be, I am grateful because whenever I am beating my self up about something or other, I remenber her words and I realise that it is after all only going on in my head. It is only my perception of me and this helps to put things into a perspective that is more outside of myself.
It is difficult to get a 360 degree view of how we must come across to others. Even if it is deliberatley sought, people choose to make comments that often avoid stating the whole truth.
So I move on and try to grow a thicker skin and make it seem as if I am immune, in other words act cool and keep things closer to my chest. For I have come to realise that those who are able to mask their feelings fair better. Whether they experience the full emotional force and are able to empathise with others is another question altogether. All I do know is that as a morbid obsessive, I find it very difficult to mask my emotional states when they are not needed and much as I want to, I feel like a round peg in a square hole most of the time, as I look around me.
Looking back she was wild and exciting to be with, but now I would definately label her as a juvenile delinquent with possible tendencies to bi-polar depressive states. Anyhow, with many years gone by since I last saw her, I have come to realise that deep down I knew that there was an element of truth in her observation. Back then her remark hurt my feelings. I wanted to be perceived as zany and as free spirited as she was, not to come across as a worry guts, like my Mum already. I have always been too concerned about the consequences and the effects that my actions might have on others, or how I might be percieved, to really let go and live in the moment.
Now with too much water under the bridge, and for my friend too I suspect, wherever she might be, I am grateful because whenever I am beating my self up about something or other, I remenber her words and I realise that it is after all only going on in my head. It is only my perception of me and this helps to put things into a perspective that is more outside of myself.
It is difficult to get a 360 degree view of how we must come across to others. Even if it is deliberatley sought, people choose to make comments that often avoid stating the whole truth.
So I move on and try to grow a thicker skin and make it seem as if I am immune, in other words act cool and keep things closer to my chest. For I have come to realise that those who are able to mask their feelings fair better. Whether they experience the full emotional force and are able to empathise with others is another question altogether. All I do know is that as a morbid obsessive, I find it very difficult to mask my emotional states when they are not needed and much as I want to, I feel like a round peg in a square hole most of the time, as I look around me.
Thursday, 13 May 2010
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Well wonders never cease. A bus journey to work that has made personal history as far as I am concerned.
When I got to the top deck the air was thick with vile cigarette smoke. I had my new cardigan on and I didn't want that to reek, and there were two small children sitting at the front. What more of a nudge did I need to speak up and out.
"Please stop smoking it is against the law" I said, only this time particularly confidently and clearly because I had forgotten that I had my Ipod earplugs in with Black Rebel Motor Cycle Club playing it loud.
The offender immediately threw his cigarette out of the window without comment - good job too I thought. But then the bus suddenly came to a stop. The driver came up and demanded to know who had been smoking! Well we all sat still and feeling like naughty school children we were not going to shop the offender. But the little girl at the front also spoke up loud and clear and pointing a steady finger at the miscreant she uttered the fatal words: "it was him that did the smoking."
Oh my oh my. The naughty man got frog marched off.
When I got to the top deck the air was thick with vile cigarette smoke. I had my new cardigan on and I didn't want that to reek, and there were two small children sitting at the front. What more of a nudge did I need to speak up and out.
"Please stop smoking it is against the law" I said, only this time particularly confidently and clearly because I had forgotten that I had my Ipod earplugs in with Black Rebel Motor Cycle Club playing it loud.
The offender immediately threw his cigarette out of the window without comment - good job too I thought. But then the bus suddenly came to a stop. The driver came up and demanded to know who had been smoking! Well we all sat still and feeling like naughty school children we were not going to shop the offender. But the little girl at the front also spoke up loud and clear and pointing a steady finger at the miscreant she uttered the fatal words: "it was him that did the smoking."
Oh my oh my. The naughty man got frog marched off.
Monday, 3 May 2010
Bad Broadcasting Corporation
I have been trying to keep a lid on my feelings with regards the BBC and what has been on the telly over the past few years. This could be because I'd find it too depressing to acknowledge the increasing amount of crud on air. Mainly though, it's because I've been more concerned that I might be sounding like a grumpy old lady who can not stay abreast of the times. Now however, and mainly because I am getting older and less concerned about what others think, I am not going to stay quiet any longer. I think I am being stitched up, I think that I am being charged a lot of money for my TV licence for what is predominanly a load of rubbish.
It used to feel that I was getting good value, there was always something on that I wanted to watch, but that is no longer the case. There is rarely a night that goes by nowdays where I am not interested in what is being shown on any of the channels let alone BBC 1 & 2, as the choice is either repeats, reality TV or feeble documentaries - and I am not into the soaps either. Gone are the days where I would settle down to a couple of hours of interesting and entertaining viewing at the end of a long day at work to unwind and forget the stresses. I miss the dramas and comedies that used to be a feature of at least one hour a night. This is no longer the case. In fact there seems to be more American dramas on the box these days than British and this appears to mark a strange turnabout.
To make things even worse we are now at the mercy of the World Snooker, or any sporting event that the BBC shows to be honest. (Yes I know, I'm not interested in sport either that makes me a sad-o but I still want my viewer's rights.) When I settled the other night to specifically watch something that had attracted my attention, a rare event enough as it goes, the programme was postponed until the snooker had finished. The snooker overrun by one and a half hours. The programme that I wanted to watch couldn't be recorded, we had no information to go on. Nothing had been said, put up on screen, ammended in the papers. When the snooker did eventually finish, the voice-over informed us in a trite manner that, - there had been a slight delay.
And so I repeat: what exactly am I paying for when I fork out for my annual TV licence? The service is apalling, I do not think that I am getting value for money, but I hang on in there anyway just in case and what else can I do if I want access to the other TV channels? As the BBC has the monopoly we are beholden to whatever it does and cares to charge. In this day and age however, shouldn't it at least have an overflow channel for sport events that go over their allotted times?
It used to feel that I was getting good value, there was always something on that I wanted to watch, but that is no longer the case. There is rarely a night that goes by nowdays where I am not interested in what is being shown on any of the channels let alone BBC 1 & 2, as the choice is either repeats, reality TV or feeble documentaries - and I am not into the soaps either. Gone are the days where I would settle down to a couple of hours of interesting and entertaining viewing at the end of a long day at work to unwind and forget the stresses. I miss the dramas and comedies that used to be a feature of at least one hour a night. This is no longer the case. In fact there seems to be more American dramas on the box these days than British and this appears to mark a strange turnabout.
To make things even worse we are now at the mercy of the World Snooker, or any sporting event that the BBC shows to be honest. (Yes I know, I'm not interested in sport either that makes me a sad-o but I still want my viewer's rights.) When I settled the other night to specifically watch something that had attracted my attention, a rare event enough as it goes, the programme was postponed until the snooker had finished. The snooker overrun by one and a half hours. The programme that I wanted to watch couldn't be recorded, we had no information to go on. Nothing had been said, put up on screen, ammended in the papers. When the snooker did eventually finish, the voice-over informed us in a trite manner that, - there had been a slight delay.
And so I repeat: what exactly am I paying for when I fork out for my annual TV licence? The service is apalling, I do not think that I am getting value for money, but I hang on in there anyway just in case and what else can I do if I want access to the other TV channels? As the BBC has the monopoly we are beholden to whatever it does and cares to charge. In this day and age however, shouldn't it at least have an overflow channel for sport events that go over their allotted times?
Friday, 23 April 2010
Fiddlers
I thought that we were getting a bit more savvy with our purchasing these days, more customer aware. Even for those major items for things like cars or houses for instance we are informing ourselves to a greater extent before buying. There are many TV and radio programmes geared specifically for this. Even dodgy builders are exposed on candid camera style shows. Gone are the days when a 'buy two for one' pair of tights meant bullet holes appearing even as they were being put on, or what about the cheap black work skirts and trousers that went a strange shade of grungy green after a couple of washes because of poor quality dyes. And there is so much information on the packets as we become more discerning, the chances of passing off a 90 percent water washing up liquid or 90 percent sugar content in jam for example is becoming increasingly difficult.
So you can imagine my surprise when an even bigger than usual catalogue came sliding sneakily through my letter box the other day, informing me of homeware that included similar stuff to that which quite honestly my family and I had relegated to the skip or dumped at the back of our garage. What was even funnier was the price tags. These were so outrageous that we had to admire the sheer audacity of the, for want of a better word, sellers. Apparently reclaimed school desks from the 60's, industrial conveyer belt trays, fruit and veg crates and factory shelving are 'di rigeur' for home design for a certain type of client. There must be some out there who agree, as the sellers appear to be doing very well for themselves with outlets in a few of our major department stores. According to the catalogue my family discovered that we actually have a small fortune in old anglepoise lamps, utility light shades and a school bench lurking in our loft and garage and we were thinking of going into business ourselves.
And so my advice to anyone reading this is to be very guarded about leaving anything vintage, or old even, on your washing line, outside your house, in the rubbish bin, certainly in an unlocked garage, because old junk is an opportunity to peddle and it might be your loss that has become another's gain. The slogan on the front of the catalogue we received proudly announced: 'buy cheap buy twice' so to all discerning purchasers go careful out there.
So you can imagine my surprise when an even bigger than usual catalogue came sliding sneakily through my letter box the other day, informing me of homeware that included similar stuff to that which quite honestly my family and I had relegated to the skip or dumped at the back of our garage. What was even funnier was the price tags. These were so outrageous that we had to admire the sheer audacity of the, for want of a better word, sellers. Apparently reclaimed school desks from the 60's, industrial conveyer belt trays, fruit and veg crates and factory shelving are 'di rigeur' for home design for a certain type of client. There must be some out there who agree, as the sellers appear to be doing very well for themselves with outlets in a few of our major department stores. According to the catalogue my family discovered that we actually have a small fortune in old anglepoise lamps, utility light shades and a school bench lurking in our loft and garage and we were thinking of going into business ourselves.
And so my advice to anyone reading this is to be very guarded about leaving anything vintage, or old even, on your washing line, outside your house, in the rubbish bin, certainly in an unlocked garage, because old junk is an opportunity to peddle and it might be your loss that has become another's gain. The slogan on the front of the catalogue we received proudly announced: 'buy cheap buy twice' so to all discerning purchasers go careful out there.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Ho Ho Ho
With the run up to election we are all being bombarded with the various party platitudes. I am finding it very difficult not to be overly cynical about the promises. We know that they have been made before, even possibly swayed our voting decisions only to realise that they simply havn't been acted upon.
So, after checking out the party lines and trying to weigh up the pros and cons against each of the major three, given that we probably won't get 'exactly what it says on the box', what's next?
Well, then the next thing is to look at the kind of people that these ministers are setting themselves up to be, given all the staging, the photo opportunities, the homely good natured appearances of the wives who are being paraded around, the winning smiles of them all on the fliers, posters and leaflets. And you hope that these leaders and their MP's of the future are at least: trustworthy, affable, fair, intelligent and honourable - at which point it is difficult not to laugh, I mean really, really belly laugh! What a fiasco, what a hoot?
So, now I've got over my belly laugh the frightening issues come into play, the kind of things that have really had a major impact on my life that have been caused by legislation that has been passed, where I have felt the distant House of Commons finger poking directly into my cheek.
Whereas once upon a time the decisions made on how our country is goverened seemed to be about large all emcompassing issues. The effects were not experienced so personally as they seem to be today and in my opion it does feel like a 'nannying state'. I am talking about for example the re-structures in the NHS, some have ultimately badly affected our out of hours GP service. Others are to do with the way our health records are being stored using a national patient IT system. This is also worrying given the track record of Government IT systems, the lack of confidence already showing in the way that the information leaflet stated words to the effect: '...this will happen but if you don't want it to then it is your right to opt out...', left me thinking like so many others I expect, so, what should I decide then? Which is the safest bet? Then there are the issues over the recession, pensions, education, immigration, equality, social care, child care, war and terrorism; there has been no stone left unturned that hasn't had a bl---y good hoeing and ultimately it has all been so depressing.
This time round I have decided to go for the postal vote. The information is pinned onto my notice board and I see it everyday and so I cannot wriggle out by deliberately fogetting. I really did forget last time but I could have set up reminders. I am not proud of this and so I will vote and the postal option will be a safer bet; less physical effort - but ohhhh the indecision, how the very thinking of it hurts.
So, after checking out the party lines and trying to weigh up the pros and cons against each of the major three, given that we probably won't get 'exactly what it says on the box', what's next?
Well, then the next thing is to look at the kind of people that these ministers are setting themselves up to be, given all the staging, the photo opportunities, the homely good natured appearances of the wives who are being paraded around, the winning smiles of them all on the fliers, posters and leaflets. And you hope that these leaders and their MP's of the future are at least: trustworthy, affable, fair, intelligent and honourable - at which point it is difficult not to laugh, I mean really, really belly laugh! What a fiasco, what a hoot?
So, now I've got over my belly laugh the frightening issues come into play, the kind of things that have really had a major impact on my life that have been caused by legislation that has been passed, where I have felt the distant House of Commons finger poking directly into my cheek.
Whereas once upon a time the decisions made on how our country is goverened seemed to be about large all emcompassing issues. The effects were not experienced so personally as they seem to be today and in my opion it does feel like a 'nannying state'. I am talking about for example the re-structures in the NHS, some have ultimately badly affected our out of hours GP service. Others are to do with the way our health records are being stored using a national patient IT system. This is also worrying given the track record of Government IT systems, the lack of confidence already showing in the way that the information leaflet stated words to the effect: '...this will happen but if you don't want it to then it is your right to opt out...', left me thinking like so many others I expect, so, what should I decide then? Which is the safest bet? Then there are the issues over the recession, pensions, education, immigration, equality, social care, child care, war and terrorism; there has been no stone left unturned that hasn't had a bl---y good hoeing and ultimately it has all been so depressing.
This time round I have decided to go for the postal vote. The information is pinned onto my notice board and I see it everyday and so I cannot wriggle out by deliberately fogetting. I really did forget last time but I could have set up reminders. I am not proud of this and so I will vote and the postal option will be a safer bet; less physical effort - but ohhhh the indecision, how the very thinking of it hurts.
Friday, 9 April 2010
Reasons to be Cheerful
For several personal reasons I have been feeling rather depressed recently. Some of this may be due to the season, a lack of sunlight so I have been informed can cause depression over the winter months. And so I am blogging today to cheer myself up a bit by thinking of the reasons to be cheerful.
The first has to be that Winter must be over now, surely? There was warmth and sunlight today and I've seen crocuses and daffodils, primroses and hyacinths and so it must be, although I am still waiting for the leaves on the trees.
Second: I have had some lovely conversations recently with my son who continues to mature in ways that are truely intriguing and captivating.
Third: my life isn't bad at all and when I compare it to some other poor souls out there it is really very good. Reading the papers and listening to reports help to put things into perspective. God only knows how or why the human race continues to inflict such horrors onto its own as if there is not enough to cope with.
Fourth: the birds are singing again, and although it must be difficult to find nesting places as the trees are lacking leaves, I have still witnessed Mr Blackbird wolf whistling and chasing his Mrs Browny bird around the garden, and this has made me smile. And I have also watched the sparrows hopping in and out of the bird bath and it is obvious that they are enjoying splashing around in the water, just like kids do. And this made me happy.
The first has to be that Winter must be over now, surely? There was warmth and sunlight today and I've seen crocuses and daffodils, primroses and hyacinths and so it must be, although I am still waiting for the leaves on the trees.
Second: I have had some lovely conversations recently with my son who continues to mature in ways that are truely intriguing and captivating.
Third: my life isn't bad at all and when I compare it to some other poor souls out there it is really very good. Reading the papers and listening to reports help to put things into perspective. God only knows how or why the human race continues to inflict such horrors onto its own as if there is not enough to cope with.
Fourth: the birds are singing again, and although it must be difficult to find nesting places as the trees are lacking leaves, I have still witnessed Mr Blackbird wolf whistling and chasing his Mrs Browny bird around the garden, and this has made me smile. And I have also watched the sparrows hopping in and out of the bird bath and it is obvious that they are enjoying splashing around in the water, just like kids do. And this made me happy.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Wake Up and Smell the Coffee
Recently I've been thinking about my retirement and for the first time in my working life, to seriously address my pension provisions. This may seem strange to some, but until now pension has been something that I've put on the back burner, stupidly believing that something would come along to make ends meet. Now as the years pass by at an alarmingly rapid rate I'm not so sure.
In my youth and through my 20's I saw those who I knew retire, and they seemed burned out, old people who were ready to sit back and let others take over. I saw men who seemed to fizzle out before my eyes, the ghost of who they used to be once they stopped working.
Then over the past twenty years or so there has been a retrospective realisation that life expentency has now extended with better health care and healthier lifestyles and the age of retirement for government pensions has been raised. I was one of those unlucky women whose date of birth put me on the losing side on this decision. We have all been given govenment homilies now on ensuring that we have private pensions in place, since hearing about or even worse being victims of various pension schemes that have completely crashed.
The ethos now is one where we are all meant to be considering working for longer hours and more years in order to help build our savings up, but apparently it will also be good for our self esteem. Legislation has also come into force giving people rights to extend their working life into their 70's. In comparison to the rest of the EU we must now be a nation of confident and happy people as we have the least number of national holidays and the highest working hours over the day.
And I have been trying to assimilate all of this and think about how it relates to me. And - I came to the conclusion that retirement is not so much a giving up but a moving on, maybe having the money to do as you please rather than having to do as you are told for your daily crust. Taking a few risks by exploring other avenues that might make money; turning a hobby or enthusiasm into a means of revenue maybe, or taking a back seat in the work place in order to switch off at home and enjoy other activities that are out there to pursue. By trying not to let work define you, believing that it is your total life's achievement. By discovering hidden talents and understanding that life learning does not always have to do with updating workplace skills. By giving yourself to other things rather than the rat race, like watching the garden grow, children play, tasting the food and appreciating many of the good things in life that are often for free anyway.
In my youth and through my 20's I saw those who I knew retire, and they seemed burned out, old people who were ready to sit back and let others take over. I saw men who seemed to fizzle out before my eyes, the ghost of who they used to be once they stopped working.
Then over the past twenty years or so there has been a retrospective realisation that life expentency has now extended with better health care and healthier lifestyles and the age of retirement for government pensions has been raised. I was one of those unlucky women whose date of birth put me on the losing side on this decision. We have all been given govenment homilies now on ensuring that we have private pensions in place, since hearing about or even worse being victims of various pension schemes that have completely crashed.
The ethos now is one where we are all meant to be considering working for longer hours and more years in order to help build our savings up, but apparently it will also be good for our self esteem. Legislation has also come into force giving people rights to extend their working life into their 70's. In comparison to the rest of the EU we must now be a nation of confident and happy people as we have the least number of national holidays and the highest working hours over the day.
And I have been trying to assimilate all of this and think about how it relates to me. And - I came to the conclusion that retirement is not so much a giving up but a moving on, maybe having the money to do as you please rather than having to do as you are told for your daily crust. Taking a few risks by exploring other avenues that might make money; turning a hobby or enthusiasm into a means of revenue maybe, or taking a back seat in the work place in order to switch off at home and enjoy other activities that are out there to pursue. By trying not to let work define you, believing that it is your total life's achievement. By discovering hidden talents and understanding that life learning does not always have to do with updating workplace skills. By giving yourself to other things rather than the rat race, like watching the garden grow, children play, tasting the food and appreciating many of the good things in life that are often for free anyway.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Learning for Life
I know that having to work out what we want to do with our lives once we leave compulsory education happens to everyone, but I remember when I had to do it and I wasn't ready then, and now my son is in the same boat I feel a deja vu coming on.
When he finished school he felt that he still had a lot to learn and was even more keen to absorb knowledge and master new skills. College was the thing and he is enjoying the study and the meeting of other kids who have a similar outlook to himself. My son is one of those who is fortunate - or not - to be very able across a broad range of subjects. But what will he end up 'doing' I wonder to myself, how will he decide about making a living when all is said and done? He enjoys all the subject areas and for the moment cannot decide which way to take them.
Thank goodness, I innocently thought when he first started college at the end of the summer last year, that he may be able to postpone the final decision by having those three years in higher ed. A little more time to try and decide what ticks the boxes, a little leeway to network and make a few connections and explore. Oh how wrong I was.
The ugly recession has affected everyone, including the innocents who were too young to buy into anything at the time the fiscal fiasco was gaining force. Universities are having to tighten their belts and so the pressure is on. The standard of A levels is being challenged, the increasing number of kids going to university is being questioned, university level places are dropping and will only be for the very highest performing A* students, finding paid employment is almost impossible for the young and inexperienced and the good old technical qualifications that are reliant on apprenticeships are in decline.
I am in a blind panic. Apart from working very hard for 4 A levels, it used to be 3 in my day, I am now encouraging him to get out there and make his mark to add to his CV. Am I being reasonable? "You want to write son, then do it. Send your stuff into the editors" I plead with him. "Go make the film you always wanted to direct" I suggest.
However - this is all water off a duck's back as he seems to have no drive or ambition whatsoever. He is still young - how the time has flown - I cannot believe that schooling is over and the hard cold facts of life are going to kick in pretty soon, the way things are going. And I want to protect him still but I know that I cannot, he has to face life and make his own decisions and I must learn to stand back and watch him ignore my advice and go his own way and, what is most upsetting, learn by his own mistakes.
When he finished school he felt that he still had a lot to learn and was even more keen to absorb knowledge and master new skills. College was the thing and he is enjoying the study and the meeting of other kids who have a similar outlook to himself. My son is one of those who is fortunate - or not - to be very able across a broad range of subjects. But what will he end up 'doing' I wonder to myself, how will he decide about making a living when all is said and done? He enjoys all the subject areas and for the moment cannot decide which way to take them.
Thank goodness, I innocently thought when he first started college at the end of the summer last year, that he may be able to postpone the final decision by having those three years in higher ed. A little more time to try and decide what ticks the boxes, a little leeway to network and make a few connections and explore. Oh how wrong I was.
The ugly recession has affected everyone, including the innocents who were too young to buy into anything at the time the fiscal fiasco was gaining force. Universities are having to tighten their belts and so the pressure is on. The standard of A levels is being challenged, the increasing number of kids going to university is being questioned, university level places are dropping and will only be for the very highest performing A* students, finding paid employment is almost impossible for the young and inexperienced and the good old technical qualifications that are reliant on apprenticeships are in decline.
I am in a blind panic. Apart from working very hard for 4 A levels, it used to be 3 in my day, I am now encouraging him to get out there and make his mark to add to his CV. Am I being reasonable? "You want to write son, then do it. Send your stuff into the editors" I plead with him. "Go make the film you always wanted to direct" I suggest.
However - this is all water off a duck's back as he seems to have no drive or ambition whatsoever. He is still young - how the time has flown - I cannot believe that schooling is over and the hard cold facts of life are going to kick in pretty soon, the way things are going. And I want to protect him still but I know that I cannot, he has to face life and make his own decisions and I must learn to stand back and watch him ignore my advice and go his own way and, what is most upsetting, learn by his own mistakes.
Friday, 19 March 2010
Untitled
Whilst half listening to something on Radio 4 the other day, my ears pricked up for some reason when I heard a discussion about titles. Titles are something that many of us would tend to take for granted, and yet, they actually have an enormous influence that probably only our sub-consious is aware of. And it is this kind of subliminal messaging that I am curious about.
If we look to the dictionary for our definitions between a name and a title, there really isn't a lot in it. A title is desribed as '...the name of something such as a book or poem or art work, and a name is defined '... by which something is known ...'. Ok, so I have to confess that my dictionary was printed in 1978 and perhaps by today's standards the dictionary makers have now cottoned on to the fact that there is in fact a vast difference. Apparently, the difference could be between a multi-pound best seller or a flop, if we are looking at a new novel for example, especially if it has been written by an unknown writer.
The radio programme that I had tuned my attention to had a BBC programmer discussing the angst involved in finding the right title for launching a new drama for instance. She confessed that there had even been times when a programme would have been re-named half way through the series, resulting in a spectacular rise in numbers of viewers.
When I was a contemporary dance student of choreography, I remember well the problems I had with coming up with a decent working title for an abstract jumble of movement that I hadn't yet shaped in any way or form. However, our choreography tutors insisted that it was the right thing to do, as it would help us to focus our creative ideas. We could always change it at the end if we wanted to. The title itself caused no end of criticism and class discussion, and on occasion even before any of the dance itself had been viewed. The teacher would inform that the title was clumsy sounding, or too long and we kind of got the message, although there really were no hard and fast rules; as one of my tutors informed me, "It is a feeling darling, it's a feeling."
Looking back now, I think there may well be something in the approach of having a working title especially for a piece of art work. I am sure that I am not the only person to have felt short changed when trying to fathom an abstract piece of fine art that has been entitled: #4, whereas a worded title, something that we can affiliate ourselves with, gives us just that little more insight, helps us mere mortals to try and pinpoint where the artist is coming from. A title sort of feels almost like getting into the artist's head for me, but shouldn't the artwork be enough?
Conversely after all is said and done, I am also puzzled as to why my favourite title that I used for one of my dance pieces was after all a statement of the obvious. It was a solo dance that I sought inspiration from, among other things and rather pretentiously, TS Eliot's poem "The Wasteland". My choreographic statement was about a lonely housewife who dances with a broom and dreams of romance - I did incorporate a broom as it was a choreographic study in which we had to use a prop. For weeks I could not think of a title, and finally when I was under pressure to come up with something I blurted out in a sarcastic and irritated manner that the dance was called: 'Female with Prop' and to my surprise my tutor gave me a gracious smile and congratulated me on a very original title.
If we look to the dictionary for our definitions between a name and a title, there really isn't a lot in it. A title is desribed as '...the name of something such as a book or poem or art work, and a name is defined '... by which something is known ...'. Ok, so I have to confess that my dictionary was printed in 1978 and perhaps by today's standards the dictionary makers have now cottoned on to the fact that there is in fact a vast difference. Apparently, the difference could be between a multi-pound best seller or a flop, if we are looking at a new novel for example, especially if it has been written by an unknown writer.
The radio programme that I had tuned my attention to had a BBC programmer discussing the angst involved in finding the right title for launching a new drama for instance. She confessed that there had even been times when a programme would have been re-named half way through the series, resulting in a spectacular rise in numbers of viewers.
When I was a contemporary dance student of choreography, I remember well the problems I had with coming up with a decent working title for an abstract jumble of movement that I hadn't yet shaped in any way or form. However, our choreography tutors insisted that it was the right thing to do, as it would help us to focus our creative ideas. We could always change it at the end if we wanted to. The title itself caused no end of criticism and class discussion, and on occasion even before any of the dance itself had been viewed. The teacher would inform that the title was clumsy sounding, or too long and we kind of got the message, although there really were no hard and fast rules; as one of my tutors informed me, "It is a feeling darling, it's a feeling."
Looking back now, I think there may well be something in the approach of having a working title especially for a piece of art work. I am sure that I am not the only person to have felt short changed when trying to fathom an abstract piece of fine art that has been entitled: #4, whereas a worded title, something that we can affiliate ourselves with, gives us just that little more insight, helps us mere mortals to try and pinpoint where the artist is coming from. A title sort of feels almost like getting into the artist's head for me, but shouldn't the artwork be enough?
Conversely after all is said and done, I am also puzzled as to why my favourite title that I used for one of my dance pieces was after all a statement of the obvious. It was a solo dance that I sought inspiration from, among other things and rather pretentiously, TS Eliot's poem "The Wasteland". My choreographic statement was about a lonely housewife who dances with a broom and dreams of romance - I did incorporate a broom as it was a choreographic study in which we had to use a prop. For weeks I could not think of a title, and finally when I was under pressure to come up with something I blurted out in a sarcastic and irritated manner that the dance was called: 'Female with Prop' and to my surprise my tutor gave me a gracious smile and congratulated me on a very original title.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
In the Wild Wild Wood
What's all this stuff about women being poor at finding their way around, navigating and so on, whereas men are good at it? Over this past week I have read an article making serious claims that this assertion could soon become fact due to some such research or other. My Mother in Law said that she was always getting lost and not know her way around, even in relatively well known areas, and that she leaves the directions up to him - she indicates my Father in Law with a jerk of her thumb. I've seen 'him' take the michael something rotten when she's gone trolling off in the opposite direction, waiting for her to get right the way up the hill, or whatever, before calling her back.
Now, my husband has got a Sat Nav, which I asked his parents to get him for Christmas because I was getting fed up with being the map reader with my failing eye sight and tendency to travel sickness. Now that he's got one he refuses to use it and says that he doesn't need it - he says he knows his way around anyway and thought that I needed something to do on long journeys!
So, how has he been doing without me map reading? Well, alright I have to say, but whether its because he has some in-built compass or not I'm not so sure. It could be that he's just checking the route before hand, which he never used to, and since he has boastfully claimed that he doesn't need a Sat Nav, he now has to prove it or face the shame. However, now that I have been thinking along these lines as to whether there is any truth in women being poor at direction, over the years we have often been walking in woods and forests in areas that are new to us. I have always been secretly impressed by the way that he has navigated us back out, when I have to confess, I wouldn't have had a clue. Now, that is a thing to ponder on.
Now, my husband has got a Sat Nav, which I asked his parents to get him for Christmas because I was getting fed up with being the map reader with my failing eye sight and tendency to travel sickness. Now that he's got one he refuses to use it and says that he doesn't need it - he says he knows his way around anyway and thought that I needed something to do on long journeys!
So, how has he been doing without me map reading? Well, alright I have to say, but whether its because he has some in-built compass or not I'm not so sure. It could be that he's just checking the route before hand, which he never used to, and since he has boastfully claimed that he doesn't need a Sat Nav, he now has to prove it or face the shame. However, now that I have been thinking along these lines as to whether there is any truth in women being poor at direction, over the years we have often been walking in woods and forests in areas that are new to us. I have always been secretly impressed by the way that he has navigated us back out, when I have to confess, I wouldn't have had a clue. Now, that is a thing to ponder on.
Monday, 22 February 2010
In All but Name Alone
Bullying is a subject close to my heart and I was interested to hear of the accusations that had been flying around recently of bullying within the Prime Minister's offices. These of course had been hotly denied by Gordon Brown.
The problem is that bullying comes in many guises and is very difficult to define. A little like the concept of art, everyone knows what it is but people are hardpushed to come up with a definitive explanation.
Perhaps it is because bullying can occur for many reasons and in so many circumstances that it makes it just too wide ranging to pin down. However, its effects can be devastating and for this reason alone it needs to be exposed.
Another way of gaining a better understanding of bullying is by itemising some of its traits. For instance:
1. It has to be persistent enough to make the victim/s feel persecuted. The perpetrator/s will repeat their behaviour over and over again until its anticipation alone will have a negative effect on the victim/s.
2. The perpetrator/s will always try to justify their behaviour, no matter how outlandish it has become. This may be simply by lying.
3. To bully is a sign of weakness not of strength as is commonly perceived because the perpetrator is usually in a position of power over the victim.
4. The victim is not necessarily weak as is also commonly percieved but may in fact be very strong. By merely standing up for themselves or their ideals they may make themselves a target for the bully as a result.
I believe this to be a fair summary and consider myself to be reasonably informed.
Of the four points listed above, the first one is the most important. Bullying is a repeated act and it is mainly the effect of its repetition that causes the distress. For this reason alone, the perpetrators are very aware of what they are doing and with practice they can become very good at it. By contrast, the victim/s initially may often not be aware of their status and the negative effects on their self esteem may increase exponentially with each episode of bullying as the realisation dawns.
At its worse the effects may cause symptoms of post traumatic stress which can be very debilitating and there may even be depression that can lead to suicide. The severity of reaction really depends on the circumstances, how long it has been going on for, what the stakes are and how much power the bullier/s have over the victim/s. (I make no apologies for continually using the oblique slash singular/plural to remind the reader that there may be one or many on both sides.)
I have heard a lot of discussion and read several newspaper articles on the subject recently and it makes me cross when people talk about bullying in a trite and condescending manner. Many even go so far as to imply that the victim is a certain type of person who may even have a personality flaw or some other such problem. I am of the belief that the victim can be anyone given the right set of circumstances and I am also wondering if this might be the same for a bully as well. People can react in many ways when they are under stress or scared. If a person who had never bullied before is pressurised by a greater authority and has power over others, than they may well use bullying tactics to achieve the goal. One only has to look around us to see how this efficient method of supressing insurrection has worked for whole nations and races, but never has this method had a positive or good outcome in the long run.
So, if there is bullying in Gordon Brown's offices, then we would be trivialising the serious nature of this accusation by considering it up for debate. At the best of times bullying is very difficult to prove and one would have to know all the facts in order to give it the level of serious attention that it really deserves.
The problem is that bullying comes in many guises and is very difficult to define. A little like the concept of art, everyone knows what it is but people are hardpushed to come up with a definitive explanation.
Perhaps it is because bullying can occur for many reasons and in so many circumstances that it makes it just too wide ranging to pin down. However, its effects can be devastating and for this reason alone it needs to be exposed.
Another way of gaining a better understanding of bullying is by itemising some of its traits. For instance:
1. It has to be persistent enough to make the victim/s feel persecuted. The perpetrator/s will repeat their behaviour over and over again until its anticipation alone will have a negative effect on the victim/s.
2. The perpetrator/s will always try to justify their behaviour, no matter how outlandish it has become. This may be simply by lying.
3. To bully is a sign of weakness not of strength as is commonly perceived because the perpetrator is usually in a position of power over the victim.
4. The victim is not necessarily weak as is also commonly percieved but may in fact be very strong. By merely standing up for themselves or their ideals they may make themselves a target for the bully as a result.
I believe this to be a fair summary and consider myself to be reasonably informed.
Of the four points listed above, the first one is the most important. Bullying is a repeated act and it is mainly the effect of its repetition that causes the distress. For this reason alone, the perpetrators are very aware of what they are doing and with practice they can become very good at it. By contrast, the victim/s initially may often not be aware of their status and the negative effects on their self esteem may increase exponentially with each episode of bullying as the realisation dawns.
At its worse the effects may cause symptoms of post traumatic stress which can be very debilitating and there may even be depression that can lead to suicide. The severity of reaction really depends on the circumstances, how long it has been going on for, what the stakes are and how much power the bullier/s have over the victim/s. (I make no apologies for continually using the oblique slash singular/plural to remind the reader that there may be one or many on both sides.)
I have heard a lot of discussion and read several newspaper articles on the subject recently and it makes me cross when people talk about bullying in a trite and condescending manner. Many even go so far as to imply that the victim is a certain type of person who may even have a personality flaw or some other such problem. I am of the belief that the victim can be anyone given the right set of circumstances and I am also wondering if this might be the same for a bully as well. People can react in many ways when they are under stress or scared. If a person who had never bullied before is pressurised by a greater authority and has power over others, than they may well use bullying tactics to achieve the goal. One only has to look around us to see how this efficient method of supressing insurrection has worked for whole nations and races, but never has this method had a positive or good outcome in the long run.
So, if there is bullying in Gordon Brown's offices, then we would be trivialising the serious nature of this accusation by considering it up for debate. At the best of times bullying is very difficult to prove and one would have to know all the facts in order to give it the level of serious attention that it really deserves.
Monday, 15 February 2010
The Invisible Enemy
Eversince the swine flu scare, there has been an all out effort to raise public awareness on how infection spreads. This is not new info, it is the same as it ever was for all the viruses lurking out there. The problem is, I used to be a lot more laid back about the whole business but now I am far more mindful.
I have always known and have been taught by my folks since I was a wee little thing to cover my mouth and nose when sneezing and coughing and wash hands in soap and water. But the bit that is turning me into a cranky obsessive is this: if good old soap and water is not available then use one of the anti virul/bacterial gels that can be purchased as pocket sized for just in case. Now, wherever I am and whatever the situation, I have the power to combat germs.
The real problem is putting all of this info into perspective. My poor old hubby and son keep picking up cough and colds, they're onto their second bout this winter, and so far I haven't had anything. Now for me this is a bit unusual. Infact I would go so far to say as this is positively weird since it used to be me getting the flu bugs whereas the other two would resist. So there has been a bit of a twist of fate to my story.
And the big question is: has this been because I have been hand cleaning and my two men are less scrupulous? Well their hygiene habits have probably remained unchanged and yet they have had more infections than me recently but still I am not convinced.
My son takes public transport now and that is one difference to his life. Public transport is rife with germs. Another point is that my husband was seriously ill with a bacterial septicaemia a couple of years ago, and that has probably given his immune system a bit of a kicking and so he may be more vulnerable.
As for me, it would seem that the hand cleaning has worked but I have now swapped the occasional flu and cold virus for what could become an obsessive tendency which is quite literally following me around my home, especially with the other two coughing and sneezing wherever they go and me in their wake with the special spray. And it is wearing me out! Should I revert to my old laissez faire attitude for an easier life and risk the odd germ or would that be giving in? And if I do get a cold or flu, with all the hand washing, what would have been the point to all this obsessing about preventing it in the first place? Who can possibly tell one way or another? Just keep your hands away from your face maybe and then dirty hands won't matter - will they? Unless of course my dirty hands pass the bugs onto some other poor misfortunate, and then is that my fault or would it be there's? See what I mean?
I have always known and have been taught by my folks since I was a wee little thing to cover my mouth and nose when sneezing and coughing and wash hands in soap and water. But the bit that is turning me into a cranky obsessive is this: if good old soap and water is not available then use one of the anti virul/bacterial gels that can be purchased as pocket sized for just in case. Now, wherever I am and whatever the situation, I have the power to combat germs.
The real problem is putting all of this info into perspective. My poor old hubby and son keep picking up cough and colds, they're onto their second bout this winter, and so far I haven't had anything. Now for me this is a bit unusual. Infact I would go so far to say as this is positively weird since it used to be me getting the flu bugs whereas the other two would resist. So there has been a bit of a twist of fate to my story.
And the big question is: has this been because I have been hand cleaning and my two men are less scrupulous? Well their hygiene habits have probably remained unchanged and yet they have had more infections than me recently but still I am not convinced.
My son takes public transport now and that is one difference to his life. Public transport is rife with germs. Another point is that my husband was seriously ill with a bacterial septicaemia a couple of years ago, and that has probably given his immune system a bit of a kicking and so he may be more vulnerable.
As for me, it would seem that the hand cleaning has worked but I have now swapped the occasional flu and cold virus for what could become an obsessive tendency which is quite literally following me around my home, especially with the other two coughing and sneezing wherever they go and me in their wake with the special spray. And it is wearing me out! Should I revert to my old laissez faire attitude for an easier life and risk the odd germ or would that be giving in? And if I do get a cold or flu, with all the hand washing, what would have been the point to all this obsessing about preventing it in the first place? Who can possibly tell one way or another? Just keep your hands away from your face maybe and then dirty hands won't matter - will they? Unless of course my dirty hands pass the bugs onto some other poor misfortunate, and then is that my fault or would it be there's? See what I mean?
Monday, 8 February 2010
Gaudy 3D
Just to say that I did not like 'Avator' but really enjoyed Guy Ritchie's 'Sherlock Holmes' - what was there not to like?
'Avator' was my first 3D movie and I found the experience well, gaudy; unecessarily over the top. I've seen film that has transported me over the years to different worlds and I have found them totally captivating. I never forget the first 'Star Wars' movie and being enthralled. When I look back now of course, by today's standards the effects are lame, but back then they were not, I believed in them and that was without 3D.
I cannot equate with the visual effects for 'Avator', and this is not just because the story was shallow and lame. To begin, I kept wanting to take my 3D specs off out of curiousity to see what the film looked like without them. Not that different really, and this was a little dissapointing, not a real portal to another dimension after all, a bit of a sham I remember thinking. And one more thing, the 3D experience made me feel ever so slightly queasy, sort of vaguely travel sick.
And of course if I was more concerned about the specs and the cleverness of the cinematic effects, the real magic of being taken up by the film had not occurred. In other words I didn't believe it and I remained outside of the experience. I had not been transported like I was when I saw Sherlock Holmes.
Maybe it would be unfair to judge on the strength of just one film whether cinema will benefit using 3D effect. At the moment however, I find the specs just too disconcerting.
'Avator' was my first 3D movie and I found the experience well, gaudy; unecessarily over the top. I've seen film that has transported me over the years to different worlds and I have found them totally captivating. I never forget the first 'Star Wars' movie and being enthralled. When I look back now of course, by today's standards the effects are lame, but back then they were not, I believed in them and that was without 3D.
I cannot equate with the visual effects for 'Avator', and this is not just because the story was shallow and lame. To begin, I kept wanting to take my 3D specs off out of curiousity to see what the film looked like without them. Not that different really, and this was a little dissapointing, not a real portal to another dimension after all, a bit of a sham I remember thinking. And one more thing, the 3D experience made me feel ever so slightly queasy, sort of vaguely travel sick.
And of course if I was more concerned about the specs and the cleverness of the cinematic effects, the real magic of being taken up by the film had not occurred. In other words I didn't believe it and I remained outside of the experience. I had not been transported like I was when I saw Sherlock Holmes.
Maybe it would be unfair to judge on the strength of just one film whether cinema will benefit using 3D effect. At the moment however, I find the specs just too disconcerting.
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Cut Out the Crap
At this time of year I notice that the pudge has began to show after the Christmas bingeing and I realise that it is time to pull in the reins.
I have a lot of friends who follow various diets that have been sanctified by the celebs and those organisations that set themselves up as being authorities. This is all well and good, but there is often a price for this expertise. At the very least it might involve buying in more expensive food stuffs that one wouldn't normally choose in the usual supermarket run, trying to juggle two types of meals in the evening with the family staunchly opposing soused mackrel and bean sprouts for a plate of ham and chips. At its most extreme there is all kinds of calorie or energy equivalent counting, lists of different food stuffs in various quantities that are and are not allowed, books, dvd's and packages, weight reducing evening classes and whatever other paraphanalia that goes with a 'special diet'.
I however seek to avoid all of this as I have realised over the years that the diet fads only make me more obsessed and I have often ended counting calories instead of sheep at night.
I keep my weight in check by following what I call a sensible eating code and this I have in place throughout my life as a way of life. Many people that I know do not believe that I ever had an excessive weight problem and even more strange, it surprises them when I confess that I did, although it is beyond me why I get this reaction. I am human like everyone else and there are many times when I eat junk food, such as at Christmas, hey days and holidays. I love chocolate and crisps, cakes and biscuits, but I cannot eat these to excess without putting on weight. The minute my weight starts to increase, I know that I have to cut out the crap and eat like I usually do. This stuff is after all meant to be a treat. And I do not need to weigh myself either to know if I am putting it on or off, I am aware within a few pounds either way by the look and feel of me and the way my clothes fit.
A long time ago, I retrained my appetite and body to appreciate the difference between being stuffed and being comfortably full. Boy did I have a lot to learn. When I became aware of this, my palate began to behave as well, and I had a moment of epiphany when I realised, for what seemed the very first time just how sweet a slice of unadorned bread was or a carrot for instance. It was a hard, self taught slog and for that reason alone I am proud that 35 years later I still remember my lesson. I do not like to preach and have kept these hard won facts to myself. Now however, I am willing to share the most important one: no diet, just cut out the food junk, we all know what that is.
I have a lot of friends who follow various diets that have been sanctified by the celebs and those organisations that set themselves up as being authorities. This is all well and good, but there is often a price for this expertise. At the very least it might involve buying in more expensive food stuffs that one wouldn't normally choose in the usual supermarket run, trying to juggle two types of meals in the evening with the family staunchly opposing soused mackrel and bean sprouts for a plate of ham and chips. At its most extreme there is all kinds of calorie or energy equivalent counting, lists of different food stuffs in various quantities that are and are not allowed, books, dvd's and packages, weight reducing evening classes and whatever other paraphanalia that goes with a 'special diet'.
I however seek to avoid all of this as I have realised over the years that the diet fads only make me more obsessed and I have often ended counting calories instead of sheep at night.
I keep my weight in check by following what I call a sensible eating code and this I have in place throughout my life as a way of life. Many people that I know do not believe that I ever had an excessive weight problem and even more strange, it surprises them when I confess that I did, although it is beyond me why I get this reaction. I am human like everyone else and there are many times when I eat junk food, such as at Christmas, hey days and holidays. I love chocolate and crisps, cakes and biscuits, but I cannot eat these to excess without putting on weight. The minute my weight starts to increase, I know that I have to cut out the crap and eat like I usually do. This stuff is after all meant to be a treat. And I do not need to weigh myself either to know if I am putting it on or off, I am aware within a few pounds either way by the look and feel of me and the way my clothes fit.
A long time ago, I retrained my appetite and body to appreciate the difference between being stuffed and being comfortably full. Boy did I have a lot to learn. When I became aware of this, my palate began to behave as well, and I had a moment of epiphany when I realised, for what seemed the very first time just how sweet a slice of unadorned bread was or a carrot for instance. It was a hard, self taught slog and for that reason alone I am proud that 35 years later I still remember my lesson. I do not like to preach and have kept these hard won facts to myself. Now however, I am willing to share the most important one: no diet, just cut out the food junk, we all know what that is.
Monday, 25 January 2010
A Day in the Life
My high point over the past week has been listening to some stunning Radio 4 programmes including: the History of the World using found archeological treasues and some very interesting personalities on Desert Island Discs. The one that has left a lasting impression however, was Making a Stand featuring an interview with a seaman, a captain no less of a very large merchant ship travelling the world with various valuable cargoes, including his wife and rich fare paying passengers.
He told a story of how he and his crew had to cope with desparate Somalian pirates who were trying to lay siege on his vessel. This very brave man calmly explained his strategy as he retold the harrowing experience of how his ship was attacked with rocket launchers, hand grenades and machine gun fire.
His shrewd judgements and quick thinking were in marked contrast to his suprising empathy for the young African men in their 'plastic boat' and his knowledge of the dreadful political climate that they were facing. Although he would not surrender to them, the captain, it would seem was loathed to inflict harm on them either, and if anything admired their courage and tenacity. And yet he had rich pickings amongst his passengers, just ripe for kidnap and ransom and the threat - no matter how much admired was very real. The bucanners would not think twice about hacking a finger off if a gold ring was sticking.
The captain had his bosun place planks along the side of the ship, so that when the Somalians tried to alight by attaching their special lightweight ladders, the planks were released and these, along with the ladders, fell into the sea. The wooden planks wrought havoc with the pirate's boat's propellors and the cargoe ship escaped with its dignity, more or less, aside from a gaping hole around the stern - in tact.
Wow! What a man. He should be running the country not roaming the sea!
He told a story of how he and his crew had to cope with desparate Somalian pirates who were trying to lay siege on his vessel. This very brave man calmly explained his strategy as he retold the harrowing experience of how his ship was attacked with rocket launchers, hand grenades and machine gun fire.
His shrewd judgements and quick thinking were in marked contrast to his suprising empathy for the young African men in their 'plastic boat' and his knowledge of the dreadful political climate that they were facing. Although he would not surrender to them, the captain, it would seem was loathed to inflict harm on them either, and if anything admired their courage and tenacity. And yet he had rich pickings amongst his passengers, just ripe for kidnap and ransom and the threat - no matter how much admired was very real. The bucanners would not think twice about hacking a finger off if a gold ring was sticking.
The captain had his bosun place planks along the side of the ship, so that when the Somalians tried to alight by attaching their special lightweight ladders, the planks were released and these, along with the ladders, fell into the sea. The wooden planks wrought havoc with the pirate's boat's propellors and the cargoe ship escaped with its dignity, more or less, aside from a gaping hole around the stern - in tact.
Wow! What a man. He should be running the country not roaming the sea!
Monday, 18 January 2010
It's A Fair Cop
Policeman sledging on their riot sheilds? Whatever next. Well, actually causing a bit of a problem on the crowded pavements around our bus stops to be honest, in little police groups of twos and threes as they chat up the local male youths that hang out there.
This little social repartee will form a circle, widish, because the police are not that comfortable, it is easy to tell that there is some unease underlying the jovials. This in turn causes a bit of an obstruction and has folk trying to navigate themselves around it, with children in buggies and heavy shopping loads. There are some rushing desperately for the bus and the bottle neck that ensues has actually led to what I will call pavement rage. As the crowd builds up there are some that barge past giving a wide berth to the uniform entourage and knocking anyone that is in the way. There was even a bit of red face and verbal the other day, but did the officers notice? No way, they were enjoying themselves by having a bit of bonhomnie with the naughty lads around. But is this really developing communication within the community or is it merely causing an obstruction? And should the sledgers have been formally warned for their unprofessional conduct or appraised for their public display of initiative and showing their 'human side'.
Well let's face it, we know that under the helmet and uniform they are human, we are not stupid. Once they are in that uniform however, they are publically displaying who and what they are, first and foremost law enforcers for the smooth running of our communities. This is their primary job role and there is no getting away from it, they cannot disguise themselves as youth workers or public do gooders so long as the helmets and dayglow vests remain along with the cudgels and handcuffs swinging at their hips. And really, should they be expected to?
This little social repartee will form a circle, widish, because the police are not that comfortable, it is easy to tell that there is some unease underlying the jovials. This in turn causes a bit of an obstruction and has folk trying to navigate themselves around it, with children in buggies and heavy shopping loads. There are some rushing desperately for the bus and the bottle neck that ensues has actually led to what I will call pavement rage. As the crowd builds up there are some that barge past giving a wide berth to the uniform entourage and knocking anyone that is in the way. There was even a bit of red face and verbal the other day, but did the officers notice? No way, they were enjoying themselves by having a bit of bonhomnie with the naughty lads around. But is this really developing communication within the community or is it merely causing an obstruction? And should the sledgers have been formally warned for their unprofessional conduct or appraised for their public display of initiative and showing their 'human side'.
Well let's face it, we know that under the helmet and uniform they are human, we are not stupid. Once they are in that uniform however, they are publically displaying who and what they are, first and foremost law enforcers for the smooth running of our communities. This is their primary job role and there is no getting away from it, they cannot disguise themselves as youth workers or public do gooders so long as the helmets and dayglow vests remain along with the cudgels and handcuffs swinging at their hips. And really, should they be expected to?
Monday, 11 January 2010
Life in the Virtual Fast Lane
I am wondering if everyone has their own pace of life, a dynamic that is uniquely theirs. Mine these days does not seem to fall in with the speed that everyone and everything around me wants things to be done. My boss, family, colleagues, friends, teachers, emails, letters, bills, even magazines all seem to be whizzing around at break-neck speed, making some kind of demand on my time and attention. I feel quite dizzy by it all, and although the New Year has barely got underway, I want to get off at the next stop and let it go on without me.
My son is now more independant than he ever was and has little need of as much attention from me than when he was younger. I used to think that when he was grown that I would have more time to devote to myself. The truth is that I remember the days when I would just sit and play games with him or read him stories and I do not think that I look back with rose tinted glasses when I say that my pace of life seemed then to be a lot more graceful and smooth.
I believe that over the past decade we have grown more accustomed to immediacy within our lifestyles. Mobile phones put us in touch directly no matter when or where; access to the website now on our ipods and phones give us information quite literally at our fingertips so that we no longer have to ponder to recall a name or song or film title or wait until we reach the library to find something out.
The google map websites can place us more or less anywhere for a birdseye view of life on the other side of the world if we so wish it. The wealth of music, film, literature or art can be viewed or heard at the touch of a button without having to book or go and buy in the shops and wait for a date in the future. We have virtual games and websites that give us a sense of affecting our circumstances without even having to actually walk and meet and talk.
The list is endless and no doubt there is more to add to it. I will compare this feeling of everything in my life being so much more speedier than it used to be with another observation that I believe is common to many. When I go back to my home town in a rural part of the UK, I cannot quite get used to how slow everything seems to be there. The traffic rolls by in slow motion, the people have more time to chat and pass the time of day, folk are polite and orderly when they are walking in the town centre and I notice the change particularly when I return to the city where life reverts once again to fast-forward.
Maybe we are entering an age where our collective experience of virtual IT time is having an impact on the speed of our actual life in real time, and I am wondering how much faster we as human beings will be able to take the pace without it having a detrimental effect on our real life relationships and communities.
My son is now more independant than he ever was and has little need of as much attention from me than when he was younger. I used to think that when he was grown that I would have more time to devote to myself. The truth is that I remember the days when I would just sit and play games with him or read him stories and I do not think that I look back with rose tinted glasses when I say that my pace of life seemed then to be a lot more graceful and smooth.
I believe that over the past decade we have grown more accustomed to immediacy within our lifestyles. Mobile phones put us in touch directly no matter when or where; access to the website now on our ipods and phones give us information quite literally at our fingertips so that we no longer have to ponder to recall a name or song or film title or wait until we reach the library to find something out.
The google map websites can place us more or less anywhere for a birdseye view of life on the other side of the world if we so wish it. The wealth of music, film, literature or art can be viewed or heard at the touch of a button without having to book or go and buy in the shops and wait for a date in the future. We have virtual games and websites that give us a sense of affecting our circumstances without even having to actually walk and meet and talk.
The list is endless and no doubt there is more to add to it. I will compare this feeling of everything in my life being so much more speedier than it used to be with another observation that I believe is common to many. When I go back to my home town in a rural part of the UK, I cannot quite get used to how slow everything seems to be there. The traffic rolls by in slow motion, the people have more time to chat and pass the time of day, folk are polite and orderly when they are walking in the town centre and I notice the change particularly when I return to the city where life reverts once again to fast-forward.
Maybe we are entering an age where our collective experience of virtual IT time is having an impact on the speed of our actual life in real time, and I am wondering how much faster we as human beings will be able to take the pace without it having a detrimental effect on our real life relationships and communities.
Monday, 4 January 2010
Bah, Humbug!
And another thing ... I cannot stand the way people put their filthy shoes and boots on the bus seats as if it was a perfectly unquestionable and reasonable thing to do. It isn't and I wish that they would refrain. If I say anything it is usually too late, the boot has already been there and I will probably get a verbal back lash for my trouble.
I did however have a very good Christmas and was one of the lucky people out there to have had the whole of the festive time off from Christmas Eve until today, Monday 4, when I saw the boots on seats once more, as I entered the general fray. How quickly the peace of a holiday wears thin.
When I got to my work I had a host of emails that were urgent 'to dos' and complaints that needed to be addressed. Welcome back to the land of the living. If I won the Lotto, I for one would definately not decide that I would be lost and wouldn't know what to do without gainful employment. No Siree, I can think of a million things to do if my paid work didn't get in the way that would be so much more enjoyable!
Happy New Year anyway.
I did however have a very good Christmas and was one of the lucky people out there to have had the whole of the festive time off from Christmas Eve until today, Monday 4, when I saw the boots on seats once more, as I entered the general fray. How quickly the peace of a holiday wears thin.
When I got to my work I had a host of emails that were urgent 'to dos' and complaints that needed to be addressed. Welcome back to the land of the living. If I won the Lotto, I for one would definately not decide that I would be lost and wouldn't know what to do without gainful employment. No Siree, I can think of a million things to do if my paid work didn't get in the way that would be so much more enjoyable!
Happy New Year anyway.
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