Another mad one and so rather than trying to be erudite here's another "best of" list.
Best Blackburn Rovers performance in Europe ever
Last night v Red Bull Salzburg, 2-0
Biggest sigh of disappointment of the week
1. Levers was closed (see below)
2. Satterthwaites was closed
Best tour of a working port
Yesterday's awesome tour of Mersey Docks, thank you Mr Leatherbarrow
Best TV series ever
Spooks
Most appalling sense of doom as a friend is hung out to dry
Ruth Turner has been questioned under caution
Best golf course in the North West
Dunham Forest, thank you, Mr Dwek
Best unexpected piece of post
Two slabs of Walkers Nonsuch toffee, thank you, Mr Tighe
Currently reading
The World is Flat by Thomas Friedman
Currently listening to
Blue Nile, A Walk Across the Rooftops
Quote of the day
"We can go to the moon, but we can't get a decent pork pie up there. They don't travel,"
Roger Wilson, Satterthwaites, Crosby
Friday, September 29, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Labouring the point
As a fan of BBC's Spooks I find it quite exciting having all these robocops around Manchester city centre this week to guard the Labour conference. And there seem to be more road sweepers and traffic wardens than ever before. Mmmmm?
But are people enjoying the experience of being the centre of the world? I asked a couple of pals what they thought, which will appear in the next issue of my magazine.
Paul Horrocks, who edits the Manchester Evening News says: "Money can't buy the global exposure Manchester received from hosting this conference. It was good news all round for the city."
Mike Reeves, who plays rhythm guitar and works for Clearwater Corporate Finance, says: "It's simply snarled up an already exhausted transport network, taken up police time when they could have been doing something more productive, used up hotel space that could have been taken by people spending their own money in the region rather than taxpayers money, and filled the area with sinister looking bodyguards to raise the fear level. Other than that, it's been great."
What do you think?
But are people enjoying the experience of being the centre of the world? I asked a couple of pals what they thought, which will appear in the next issue of my magazine.
Paul Horrocks, who edits the Manchester Evening News says: "Money can't buy the global exposure Manchester received from hosting this conference. It was good news all round for the city."
Mike Reeves, who plays rhythm guitar and works for Clearwater Corporate Finance, says: "It's simply snarled up an already exhausted transport network, taken up police time when they could have been doing something more productive, used up hotel space that could have been taken by people spending their own money in the region rather than taxpayers money, and filled the area with sinister looking bodyguards to raise the fear level. Other than that, it's been great."
What do you think?
Monday, September 25, 2006
Her other bloke
It's not easy seeing your beloved leave the house in order to go and see another man she makes no secret of loving. But when that bloke is Tony Blair, there is a context.
With Labour in town this week there are opportunities aplenty to meet the top brass of the ruling party. But on Sunday we were both invited to see the PM meet readers of the Manchester Evening News at a special *secret* location (the new HQ). Baby sitting issues meant we ended up having to flip a coin for the golden ticket. It worked out right, and as it was Rachel's birthday, it meant more to her than it did to me.
The highlights are as follows. Blair is an accomplished conversationalist. He comes across as polite, passionate and engaging. He was thrown an intelligent curve ball on Kyoto by my old pal, comrade Steve Connor. A garbled question on regeneration was dealt with politely, though his special adviser Ruth Turner, once of this parish, looked suitably confused. There was only one question from a woman, Manchester's fiestiest - Angie Robinson- who put her hand up for the beleagured business owner.
There were no questions about his succession, having pointedly declined to endorse Gordon Brown earlier that day. Good. I've long maintained that there's little wrong with Tony Blair. He's an honest and courageous conviction politician. The problem is his party. Just watch them implode in an orgy of indulgent infighting this week in the manner they honed during years of opposition.
With Labour in town this week there are opportunities aplenty to meet the top brass of the ruling party. But on Sunday we were both invited to see the PM meet readers of the Manchester Evening News at a special *secret* location (the new HQ). Baby sitting issues meant we ended up having to flip a coin for the golden ticket. It worked out right, and as it was Rachel's birthday, it meant more to her than it did to me.
The highlights are as follows. Blair is an accomplished conversationalist. He comes across as polite, passionate and engaging. He was thrown an intelligent curve ball on Kyoto by my old pal, comrade Steve Connor. A garbled question on regeneration was dealt with politely, though his special adviser Ruth Turner, once of this parish, looked suitably confused. There was only one question from a woman, Manchester's fiestiest - Angie Robinson- who put her hand up for the beleagured business owner.
There were no questions about his succession, having pointedly declined to endorse Gordon Brown earlier that day. Good. I've long maintained that there's little wrong with Tony Blair. He's an honest and courageous conviction politician. The problem is his party. Just watch them implode in an orgy of indulgent infighting this week in the manner they honed during years of opposition.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Pie charts
A great Saturday tradition has always been a cheeky pie. In London the best quick food treat was a salt beef bagel from the Brick Lane Bagel Bakery with mustard to make your eyes water. It was just the job to get you in the mood before shouting obscenities at the nazi paper sellers across the road.
The only street seller paper in Marple is a lovely Romanian lad who flogs the Big Issue outside Iceland. God bless you too, my friend.
So, to pies. Ian Wolfendale, the undisputed arbiter of common sense pie consumption, is of no doubt. The best pies in Marple are the steak ones from Archers on Hollins Lane. But on Saturday, you can wait half an hour while old ladies collect their bread orders, Wolfie says with not a little irritation.
I'm equally convinced that Grenaby Farm steak pies take some beating and the service is super effecient. It needs to be with a large queue out of the shop. The first one I ever had in May this year led to me going back to the shop to demand to speak to the manager in order to congratulate him on a work of rare beauty. Not too salty, not too hot. The pastry contains the chunks of meat in a rich sauce and doesn't crumble in the tray. They have failed to disappoint ever since.
For the ultimate pie test we whittled it down to the above two, added potato and meat from each place and a lamb pie from Archers. The kids - all five - opted for Archers sausage rolls.
The verdicts: Eamon Curran, father of the love of my life, and a man who knows his way around a plate of food said the pies were alright, but the sausage rolls were peerless. Some of the best he's had.
Margaret, mother of the same, thought there was little to choose between the two potato and meat. A tie for first place. But that the Grenaby steak was too salty.
Rachel agrees with me. Mmmm.
And me, stubborn bugger that I am, still think Grenaby's steak pie is the king of Marple Pies. The next test is to put it up against a Levers' steak offering from their flagship superstore on Bolton Road, Blackburn, opposite t'Roverrrrs. I might need extra help from Wolfie on that one.
The only street seller paper in Marple is a lovely Romanian lad who flogs the Big Issue outside Iceland. God bless you too, my friend.
So, to pies. Ian Wolfendale, the undisputed arbiter of common sense pie consumption, is of no doubt. The best pies in Marple are the steak ones from Archers on Hollins Lane. But on Saturday, you can wait half an hour while old ladies collect their bread orders, Wolfie says with not a little irritation.
I'm equally convinced that Grenaby Farm steak pies take some beating and the service is super effecient. It needs to be with a large queue out of the shop. The first one I ever had in May this year led to me going back to the shop to demand to speak to the manager in order to congratulate him on a work of rare beauty. Not too salty, not too hot. The pastry contains the chunks of meat in a rich sauce and doesn't crumble in the tray. They have failed to disappoint ever since.
For the ultimate pie test we whittled it down to the above two, added potato and meat from each place and a lamb pie from Archers. The kids - all five - opted for Archers sausage rolls.
The verdicts: Eamon Curran, father of the love of my life, and a man who knows his way around a plate of food said the pies were alright, but the sausage rolls were peerless. Some of the best he's had.
Margaret, mother of the same, thought there was little to choose between the two potato and meat. A tie for first place. But that the Grenaby steak was too salty.
Rachel agrees with me. Mmmm.
And me, stubborn bugger that I am, still think Grenaby's steak pie is the king of Marple Pies. The next test is to put it up against a Levers' steak offering from their flagship superstore on Bolton Road, Blackburn, opposite t'Roverrrrs. I might need extra help from Wolfie on that one.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Why football saddens me
Through the eyes of a 7 year old the football bungs "scandal" makes no sense at all.
"The Bolton manager was on the news. He was going to be manager of England. And he's done something bad, what has he done Daddy?"
I tried to explain, but couldn't. But then the wider world of professional football doesn't make much sense any more. The lads have Top Trumps cards with transfer fees on.
You try and encourage a basic sense of fair play. Don't cheat, don't gloat, don't foul, enjoy success, live with defeat, I say. It is good to be loyal to your mates and support your team. I'm glad they seem to be coping with this.
I can explain to a tearful 5 year old why Craig "I love this place and owe everything to Mark Hughes" Bellamy has left Blackburn Rovers for Liverpool. We understand that although I have a rude name for Lucas Neill "football genius" - irony intended - I don't want him to leave. They know too that Shefki Kuqi was a blunt instrument, but he never stopped trying.
Football has always been like this, players coming and going; we get over it, but there's something deeply wrong and missing from the soul of the game these days.
At an under 7's football tournament this summer there were parents from other schools screaming and shouting like they were Stuart Pearce, or Sam Allardyce. All the usual Andy Grayisms "drop deep", "hit him", "switch it". It was horrible. Our lot - St Mary's Marple Bridge - were much more sedate. Our number even included an ex-pro footballer and a national martial arts coach (so I fancied our chances if it kicked off). But they know about enjoyment and sport and exercise and encouragement so we just tried to cheer with moderate enthusiasm. They didn't concede a goal all day, and won the cup. The losing team's kids were in tears. No kid should feel that sense of failure. It's meant to be enjoyable.
I've no real conclusion to these unrelated tales, just a sense of sadness. I long for tales of heroism and examples of skill. Who are Hyde United playing this weekend?
"The Bolton manager was on the news. He was going to be manager of England. And he's done something bad, what has he done Daddy?"
I tried to explain, but couldn't. But then the wider world of professional football doesn't make much sense any more. The lads have Top Trumps cards with transfer fees on.
You try and encourage a basic sense of fair play. Don't cheat, don't gloat, don't foul, enjoy success, live with defeat, I say. It is good to be loyal to your mates and support your team. I'm glad they seem to be coping with this.
I can explain to a tearful 5 year old why Craig "I love this place and owe everything to Mark Hughes" Bellamy has left Blackburn Rovers for Liverpool. We understand that although I have a rude name for Lucas Neill "football genius" - irony intended - I don't want him to leave. They know too that Shefki Kuqi was a blunt instrument, but he never stopped trying.
Football has always been like this, players coming and going; we get over it, but there's something deeply wrong and missing from the soul of the game these days.
At an under 7's football tournament this summer there were parents from other schools screaming and shouting like they were Stuart Pearce, or Sam Allardyce. All the usual Andy Grayisms "drop deep", "hit him", "switch it". It was horrible. Our lot - St Mary's Marple Bridge - were much more sedate. Our number even included an ex-pro footballer and a national martial arts coach (so I fancied our chances if it kicked off). But they know about enjoyment and sport and exercise and encouragement so we just tried to cheer with moderate enthusiasm. They didn't concede a goal all day, and won the cup. The losing team's kids were in tears. No kid should feel that sense of failure. It's meant to be enjoyable.
I've no real conclusion to these unrelated tales, just a sense of sadness. I long for tales of heroism and examples of skill. Who are Hyde United playing this weekend?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Tintin
My fascination and deep love of Tintin has been tested this weekend.
The antics of the tufty haired reporter (did he ever file a story?) have been embraced by my brood who love the boxed set of DVDs. Explorers on the Moon seems to be a favourite of the boys. I still love the simplicity of The Castafiore Emerald. Some of the boys have been caught reading the books by torchlight. Bravo. Tintin is a remarkable superhero. His virtues of loyalty, kindness and courage are the foundation of the very values we encourage at every opportunity.
So why so tested? I read for the first time the English translation of Tintin in the Congo. Even the disclaimer attached by the publisher warning of "outdated colonial attitudes" can't prepare you for the appalling drawings of Africans. The violent treatment of animals is sickening. And the story is rubbish. I only bought it to complete the set. I wish I hadn't bothered.
The antics of the tufty haired reporter (did he ever file a story?) have been embraced by my brood who love the boxed set of DVDs. Explorers on the Moon seems to be a favourite of the boys. I still love the simplicity of The Castafiore Emerald. Some of the boys have been caught reading the books by torchlight. Bravo. Tintin is a remarkable superhero. His virtues of loyalty, kindness and courage are the foundation of the very values we encourage at every opportunity.
So why so tested? I read for the first time the English translation of Tintin in the Congo. Even the disclaimer attached by the publisher warning of "outdated colonial attitudes" can't prepare you for the appalling drawings of Africans. The violent treatment of animals is sickening. And the story is rubbish. I only bought it to complete the set. I wish I hadn't bothered.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Marple
When I started this blogging lark I'd no idea how it would pan out. I'll admit that the name doesn't really do justice to where we live. And even though the good people at the Marple official site have put up a link - thank you! - I'm hardly embedded in the community. I live here, I go to work in the city and have posted all manner of stuff that doesn't have much to do with this smashing little place I live.
Not having all the lads with us this weekend has left us with a lethargy we can rarely dare to contemplate. That and the preparations for a third consecutive night out.
It did however give me a small amount of time to look around Marple centre this morning without having bored and hungry children to satisfy.
The suburbs of big cities have started to morph into clones - estate agents, poncey restaurants and designer kids clothes shops. Not Marple. OK so there are plenty of estate agents, but a Saturday is a real treat popping into different butchers and grocers for various bits for the Sunday roast. There are even a couple of trendy delis which were packed out this morning.
I don't believe any shop or product ever deserves special status for being local, or British, or independent. But the shops in Marple are a pleasure partly because of those characteristics. They understand service, choice and quality. There's a site for Marple Traders which encourages people to use local services and promotes local businesses, there also seems to be a commitment to quality underpinning it.
And if the refurbed Dolce Vita can do as good a pizza for the kids as Pizza Express, then we'll be back again and again. Watch this space.
Next week: The great pie debate
Not having all the lads with us this weekend has left us with a lethargy we can rarely dare to contemplate. That and the preparations for a third consecutive night out.
It did however give me a small amount of time to look around Marple centre this morning without having bored and hungry children to satisfy.
The suburbs of big cities have started to morph into clones - estate agents, poncey restaurants and designer kids clothes shops. Not Marple. OK so there are plenty of estate agents, but a Saturday is a real treat popping into different butchers and grocers for various bits for the Sunday roast. There are even a couple of trendy delis which were packed out this morning.
I don't believe any shop or product ever deserves special status for being local, or British, or independent. But the shops in Marple are a pleasure partly because of those characteristics. They understand service, choice and quality. There's a site for Marple Traders which encourages people to use local services and promotes local businesses, there also seems to be a commitment to quality underpinning it.
And if the refurbed Dolce Vita can do as good a pizza for the kids as Pizza Express, then we'll be back again and again. Watch this space.
Next week: The great pie debate
Thursday, September 14, 2006
European Tour
My football club is like a three pin plug - useless in Europe. The only team Blackburn Rovers has ever managed to defeat in European competition has been Rosenberg of Norway in 1995. That game saw the first and fastest ever Champions League hat trick by Mike Newell as Rovers clawed back three points and hardly any dignity after humblings in Trondheim, Warsaw and Moscow.
Since then a brave display away at Lyon counted for nothing, we were 1-0 down anyway. Even the giddy defeat over CSKA Sofia was over 2 legs as we turned a 3-0 lead into a scary draw. Don't even get me started on Celtic.
But the best thing about the European adventures are the trips. But not this year. As I speak some of my pals are having slightly more fun than I am as they sample the delights of the cultural quarter of Salzburg (probably taking in an afternoon Mozart concert).
Hopefully Mark Hughes can draw something from his treasure chest of European adventures to prepare the team better than Harford, Hodgson and Sourness.
Passage to the next round would mean the group stage and all manner of possibilities.
C'mon you blues.
Since then a brave display away at Lyon counted for nothing, we were 1-0 down anyway. Even the giddy defeat over CSKA Sofia was over 2 legs as we turned a 3-0 lead into a scary draw. Don't even get me started on Celtic.
But the best thing about the European adventures are the trips. But not this year. As I speak some of my pals are having slightly more fun than I am as they sample the delights of the cultural quarter of Salzburg (probably taking in an afternoon Mozart concert).
Hopefully Mark Hughes can draw something from his treasure chest of European adventures to prepare the team better than Harford, Hodgson and Sourness.
Passage to the next round would mean the group stage and all manner of possibilities.
C'mon you blues.
Monday, September 11, 2006
A day to reflect
What have you done so far today? Dropped the kids off? Arrived at work, probably anxious about what the week has in store?
Just take a moment today to reflect on what happened 5 years ago. People like you and me didn't make it home that day.
Just take a moment today to reflect on what happened 5 years ago. People like you and me didn't make it home that day.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Random thoughts on a mad day
Mad day today, so here are a few things to chew on:
Best chewy liquorice toffees ever
Walkers Nonsuch
Best treacle toffee
Penrith Toffee Shop
Best coffee
Cafe Direct, the 5 strength one in a red packet
Best kebabs ever
Platos, Lancaster 1980s
Best fish and chips ever
Station chippy (RIP), Piccadilly bus station, Manchester
Current kids fave song for playing loud in the car
Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash
My current album for playing in car
Streets of New York - Willie Nile
Best support band ever
Flaming Lips, Old Trafford 2003
Band I wish I'd seen live, and in their prime
Stiff Little Fingers
Best hotel in Manchester
Lowry
Best place to eat anywhere at all
Three Fishes, Whalley, Lancashire
Best gig for atmosphere
Oasis, supported by Manic Street Preachers at Cardiff International Arena 1996
Best Blackburn Rovers player of all time
Alan Shearer
Most loved Blackburn Rovers player of all time
Simon Garner
Best trainers ever
Adidas Samba
One last thought: European football returns to Manchester next week. United host Scottish champions Celtic. I for one will not be comfortable in Manchester city centre next week. I remember invasions by Celtic fans as predictably hostile occasions. I also consider it in the height of poor taste that a pre-match rally at a local Irish Centre will feature a flute band named after an IRA man killed while planting land mines. And this in a city that has suffered a bombing by his "comrades" 10 years ago.
Best chewy liquorice toffees ever
Walkers Nonsuch
Best treacle toffee
Penrith Toffee Shop
Best coffee
Cafe Direct, the 5 strength one in a red packet
Best kebabs ever
Platos, Lancaster 1980s
Best fish and chips ever
Station chippy (RIP), Piccadilly bus station, Manchester
Current kids fave song for playing loud in the car
Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash
My current album for playing in car
Streets of New York - Willie Nile
Best support band ever
Flaming Lips, Old Trafford 2003
Band I wish I'd seen live, and in their prime
Stiff Little Fingers
Best hotel in Manchester
Lowry
Best place to eat anywhere at all
Three Fishes, Whalley, Lancashire
Best gig for atmosphere
Oasis, supported by Manic Street Preachers at Cardiff International Arena 1996
Best Blackburn Rovers player of all time
Alan Shearer
Most loved Blackburn Rovers player of all time
Simon Garner
Best trainers ever
Adidas Samba
One last thought: European football returns to Manchester next week. United host Scottish champions Celtic. I for one will not be comfortable in Manchester city centre next week. I remember invasions by Celtic fans as predictably hostile occasions. I also consider it in the height of poor taste that a pre-match rally at a local Irish Centre will feature a flute band named after an IRA man killed while planting land mines. And this in a city that has suffered a bombing by his "comrades" 10 years ago.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Marple's most famous son
I was chuffed to bits to be invited onto Talk of the Town on BBC Radio Manchester on Saturday. But less chuffed that I can't seem to be able to post a picture of us larking about.
The presenter - Anthony Wilson, the former altar boy from St Mary's, Marple Bridge - introduces me as one of his best friends, which is lovely of him. I've never been called that by someone who's had a film made of his life. Tony and Yvette, his partner (Ant and Vet) also got me Terry Eagleton's After Theory for my 40th, judging that I'm now mature enough to read it. Which I'm clearly not.
Anyway, the programme format is one that Wilson does so well from the days when he hosted the wonderful After Dark on Channel 4 in the 1980s.
Along with Angie Robinson from Greater Manchester Chamber of Commerce and Stephen Miles of the Radisson Edwardian Hotel we talked as we would if we were just some regular punters in the Cornerhouse cafe. Tony had to temper his langauge for broadcast purposes, which he managed with one exception, when he told the story about how Manchester gangsters have "shit" guns.
Topics ranged from Manchester's "offer", Is Manchester still cool?, the English language, Blair, Thatcher, Taser Guns, Birmingham, lap dancing bars, the rain, the rain, the rain, China, hotels, Peter Saville, London, Wembley, Manchester United.
Anyway, you can listen to it if you have the technology, at the link at the top.
The presenter - Anthony Wilson, the former altar boy from St Mary's, Marple Bridge - introduces me as one of his best friends, which is lovely of him. I've never been called that by someone who's had a film made of his life. Tony and Yvette, his partner (Ant and Vet) also got me Terry Eagleton's After Theory for my 40th, judging that I'm now mature enough to read it. Which I'm clearly not.
Anyway, the programme format is one that Wilson does so well from the days when he hosted the wonderful After Dark on Channel 4 in the 1980s.
Along with Angie Robinson from Greater Manchester Chamber of Commerce and Stephen Miles of the Radisson Edwardian Hotel we talked as we would if we were just some regular punters in the Cornerhouse cafe. Tony had to temper his langauge for broadcast purposes, which he managed with one exception, when he told the story about how Manchester gangsters have "shit" guns.
Topics ranged from Manchester's "offer", Is Manchester still cool?, the English language, Blair, Thatcher, Taser Guns, Birmingham, lap dancing bars, the rain, the rain, the rain, China, hotels, Peter Saville, London, Wembley, Manchester United.
Anyway, you can listen to it if you have the technology, at the link at the top.
Friday, September 01, 2006
A New England
When I was born, the world was a far simpler place. As kids we went on holiday in this country. I can remember a caravan in the Lakes, a B&B in Southport, various Butlins camps and my Great Uncle's farm in North Wales. Our greatest extravagance was a trip to Cornwall in my Dad's Cortina. We stopped off in Weston-super-Mare on the way down, Shrewsbury on the way back. A week in the Trelawney Hotel in Newquay felt like the apex of luxury.
My Dad's mate Ralph had been to Spain and said we weren't missing much - "Hest Bank with sunshine," he reported. I was 13 when I went abroad for the first time, 15 for the second time but it's been foreign climes at all points of the globe over the last 25 years. I've loved everywhere I've been, even Geraldton, Western Australia.
But with the five kids in tow and the amount of fun we need to spread around, I'm up for Cornwall all the way now after a wonderful week away. We did the lot - Eden Project, Newquay, Padstow, Truro, a different beach every day - wonderful food, great people. We had some good weather every day, even if it wasn't all day. It's been the best break I've had this year, nudging a tiring weekend hiking around (the shops in) Keswick into second place and relegating a weekend in Marbella down to third.
The point of all of this is that the British holiday industry is catching up with the 21st century. Apart from the Light Ale quarter of Newquay the Cornish experience has made it comfortable for nice people to enjoy England. And while Blackpool looks like it's gambling everything on getting a monster casino, this may present an opportunity for Morecambe. Bill Bryson had the vision in his book Notes From A Small Island where he suggested Morecambe could offer short breaks for the middle class of the North of England, offering art, Lancashire food and a hop to the Lake District.
There are plans floating around for Morecambe and I hope they succeed. Cornwall tells me they can.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Can't Pay, Won't Pay
I’m a great fan of a character called Martin Lewis, the self-styled Money Saving Expert of radio, TV and the net. He knows how to play the financial services system to find good deals for clued-up punters.
He also urges people to be responsible and prudent in getting out of debt and living within their means.
But I believe he might be missing a trick. He has yet to spot the bargain of the century for people with a wardrobe full of designer clothes they can’t really afford, the memories of a holiday in Las Vegas and brand new replica England kits for the kids.
And the bargain is this. You don’t have to pay for it all. For the "spend generation", where you get what you want and don’t live with the consequences, the panacea to the mounting bills is simply to become insolvent - through something called an individual voluntary arrangement (IVA).
All it takes is a session on the internet filling in details about personal circumstances, then a consultation with an insolvency specialist and then filing through the court to stop those nasty credit card companies from sending any more bills. The clothes still fit, the car still runs well and the house isn’t going to be repossessed - and the bank are willing to let the punter pay about 40p for every £1 they owe.
It might be a tall order to expect someone who has displayed very little personal responsibility to knuckle under a more rigorous financial regime, but that’s one of the requirements of a system run by qualified and regulated insolvency practitioners, as opposed to, say, a loan shark.
Close watchers of the Alternative Investment Market (AIM) cannot have failed to notice the prevalence of companies in this parish offering personal insolvency services and joining AIM. Investors love the success of Chorley-based Debt Free Direct, which floated at the back end of 2002, while others have followed the stampede to the stock market and seen their share prices soar - Accuma, Debtmatters, Clear Debt. Companies offering loans to people the banks won’t touch - like Bury-based Compass Finance - have expanded to offer IVAs to people who think "one last loan might just do it".
So, just as your insurance premiums go up because insurance companies settle bulk claims, however spurious they know them to be; and as you pay off your credit card every month and live within your means, but wonder why you need the help of Martin Lewis to avoid creeping charges - there’s why. Enjoy the summer.
(Lead article, Insider, August 2006)
He also urges people to be responsible and prudent in getting out of debt and living within their means.
But I believe he might be missing a trick. He has yet to spot the bargain of the century for people with a wardrobe full of designer clothes they can’t really afford, the memories of a holiday in Las Vegas and brand new replica England kits for the kids.
And the bargain is this. You don’t have to pay for it all. For the "spend generation", where you get what you want and don’t live with the consequences, the panacea to the mounting bills is simply to become insolvent - through something called an individual voluntary arrangement (IVA).
All it takes is a session on the internet filling in details about personal circumstances, then a consultation with an insolvency specialist and then filing through the court to stop those nasty credit card companies from sending any more bills. The clothes still fit, the car still runs well and the house isn’t going to be repossessed - and the bank are willing to let the punter pay about 40p for every £1 they owe.
It might be a tall order to expect someone who has displayed very little personal responsibility to knuckle under a more rigorous financial regime, but that’s one of the requirements of a system run by qualified and regulated insolvency practitioners, as opposed to, say, a loan shark.
Close watchers of the Alternative Investment Market (AIM) cannot have failed to notice the prevalence of companies in this parish offering personal insolvency services and joining AIM. Investors love the success of Chorley-based Debt Free Direct, which floated at the back end of 2002, while others have followed the stampede to the stock market and seen their share prices soar - Accuma, Debtmatters, Clear Debt. Companies offering loans to people the banks won’t touch - like Bury-based Compass Finance - have expanded to offer IVAs to people who think "one last loan might just do it".
So, just as your insurance premiums go up because insurance companies settle bulk claims, however spurious they know them to be; and as you pay off your credit card every month and live within your means, but wonder why you need the help of Martin Lewis to avoid creeping charges - there’s why. Enjoy the summer.
(Lead article, Insider, August 2006)
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
I fought the law
Andy and Christine Wyeth have produced an absoutely amazing medley of images and sounds from my birthday party.
Not least the picture, above, of me belting out one of the four numbers we perfomed on the night.
I'll try and get some out to people and post a few more on this blog.
Fighting the landbankers in Marple
From time to time this blog will look at a few local issues.
One at the moment regards a property company selling plots in Marple to investors in the hope they will one day get permission for residential development. Very unlikely.
See link on Marple News opposite for more on this.
One at the moment regards a property company selling plots in Marple to investors in the hope they will one day get permission for residential development. Very unlikely.
See link on Marple News opposite for more on this.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Nursery
One of my boys finished nursery last week. He's now ready for school in September. At the end of his personal yearbook was this lovely piece adapted from the original by Robert Fulghum. So true...
Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in nursery. Wisdom was not at the top of the University mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school.These are the things I learned..
Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm biscuits and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup? The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup - they all die. So do we.
And then remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned, the biggest word of all: LOOK. Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics and sane living.
Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world had biscuits and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation and other nations to always put things back where we found them and cleaned up our own messes. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in nursery. Wisdom was not at the top of the University mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school.These are the things I learned..
Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm biscuits and cold milk are good for you. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon. When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup? The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the plastic cup - they all die. So do we.
And then remember the book about Dick and Jane and the first word you learned, the biggest word of all: LOOK. Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. The Golden Rule and love and basic sanitation. Ecology and politics and sane living.
Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world had biscuits and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap. Or if we had a basic policy in our nation and other nations to always put things back where we found them and cleaned up our own messes. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
State control of the population
Sustainable development and environmentally-friendly living have become the twin mantras of the modern age. Only this morning as I drove my BMW 4X4 the short distance from home to work I was treated to more water torture of controlling drivel on Radio 5 Live. Some toss about how single men are a threat to the planet, because they leave the Sky Plus box on standby.
There was even a suggestion that communal living was a better way. That single households were to blame....for what?
It's summer and there's sod all to talk about on the news, apart from Lebanon, so this may be throw away chit chat. But be aware that some policy wonk or other will begin seriously suggesting tax breaks for communes. A new tax on fridges. A levy on DVD players. A fine if you don't take your plastic bottles to the tip (I do, by the way, but then I drive a car with plenty of room).
The solution to the greenhouse effect, if it exists, does not lie in peddling guilt and micro-management of people's lives. It lies in developing better and more effecient energy resources. But this doesn't interest the busybodies, quangos and self appointed environmental do gooders. This all comfortably satisfies a need to control, legislate and nanny, because underpinning it is a world view that says people cannot be trusted to control their own lives so we must do it for them.
There was even a suggestion that communal living was a better way. That single households were to blame....for what?
It's summer and there's sod all to talk about on the news, apart from Lebanon, so this may be throw away chit chat. But be aware that some policy wonk or other will begin seriously suggesting tax breaks for communes. A new tax on fridges. A levy on DVD players. A fine if you don't take your plastic bottles to the tip (I do, by the way, but then I drive a car with plenty of room).
The solution to the greenhouse effect, if it exists, does not lie in peddling guilt and micro-management of people's lives. It lies in developing better and more effecient energy resources. But this doesn't interest the busybodies, quangos and self appointed environmental do gooders. This all comfortably satisfies a need to control, legislate and nanny, because underpinning it is a world view that says people cannot be trusted to control their own lives so we must do it for them.
Monday, July 31, 2006
We know what you are against, but what are you for?
Hat tip to Dougal Paver at www.dougal.org.uk for his wise words on the war in Lebanon.
It got me wondering why Western liberals and so called progressives find it so easy to condemn the US, Britain and Israel. At the same time they see only what they want to see in the threat to our way of life from the virulent strain of militant Islam that lobs rockets into Israeli cities, flies planes into downtown New York and blows up the London Underground. I was reminded, however, that things were ever thus:
"The majority of pacifists either belong to obscure religious sects or are simply humanitarians who object to taking life and prefer not to follow their thoughts beyond that point. But there is a minority of intellectual pacifists, whose real though unacknowledged motive appears to be hatred of western democracy and admiration for totalitarianism. Pacifist propaganda usually boils down to saying that one side is as bad as the other, but if one looks closely at the writing of the younger intellectual pacifists, one finds that they do not by any means express impartial disapproval but are directed almost entirely against Britain and the United States ..."
George Orwell's Notes on Nationalism in May 1945.
It got me wondering why Western liberals and so called progressives find it so easy to condemn the US, Britain and Israel. At the same time they see only what they want to see in the threat to our way of life from the virulent strain of militant Islam that lobs rockets into Israeli cities, flies planes into downtown New York and blows up the London Underground. I was reminded, however, that things were ever thus:
"The majority of pacifists either belong to obscure religious sects or are simply humanitarians who object to taking life and prefer not to follow their thoughts beyond that point. But there is a minority of intellectual pacifists, whose real though unacknowledged motive appears to be hatred of western democracy and admiration for totalitarianism. Pacifist propaganda usually boils down to saying that one side is as bad as the other, but if one looks closely at the writing of the younger intellectual pacifists, one finds that they do not by any means express impartial disapproval but are directed almost entirely against Britain and the United States ..."
George Orwell's Notes on Nationalism in May 1945.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Journalism - a career fit for heroes
Kim Fletcher poses a question in the Media Graun this week.
"The question most people ask when they discover you work in newspapers is: "How do you decide what to write about?" The second question is: "My son/daughter is thinking of being a journalist. Would you recommend it?""
He then considers:
"What if papers are dying? Surely no responsible parent would promote a moribund industry to his child? The two consistent messages of hope are that papers have years in them yet and that no one believes the new digital world can do without journalism. The medium changes but the craft continues. Worryingly, though, papers do not need such big staff and the internet will not match the wage bills of traditional media."
What's fascinating is what he leaves out. The conclusion he doesn't see. It always surprises me that the Media Guardian and Press Gazette have a view of "journalism" that begins and ends with newspapers. Most journalists in this country work for magazines. Everything from Tripe Dressers Gazette to Hello! and Motor Cycle News. And Insider. In my experience there are good and bad work places, but ultimately they are what you make them.
Magazines that cover special interests or professional communities are more likely to be the defining reference points for people than the places they live. Sad, but true. The success of a magazine title is always how it serves a community. The failure of newspapers is always how they do not.
"The question most people ask when they discover you work in newspapers is: "How do you decide what to write about?" The second question is: "My son/daughter is thinking of being a journalist. Would you recommend it?""
He then considers:
"What if papers are dying? Surely no responsible parent would promote a moribund industry to his child? The two consistent messages of hope are that papers have years in them yet and that no one believes the new digital world can do without journalism. The medium changes but the craft continues. Worryingly, though, papers do not need such big staff and the internet will not match the wage bills of traditional media."
What's fascinating is what he leaves out. The conclusion he doesn't see. It always surprises me that the Media Guardian and Press Gazette have a view of "journalism" that begins and ends with newspapers. Most journalists in this country work for magazines. Everything from Tripe Dressers Gazette to Hello! and Motor Cycle News. And Insider. In my experience there are good and bad work places, but ultimately they are what you make them.
Magazines that cover special interests or professional communities are more likely to be the defining reference points for people than the places they live. Sad, but true. The success of a magazine title is always how it serves a community. The failure of newspapers is always how they do not.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Nostalgia ain't what it used to be
Close your eyes and go back in time...Before the Internet...Before semi-automatics, joyriders and crack...Before SEGA or Super Nintendo...Way back......I’m talking about Hide and Seek in the park.The corner shop.Hopscotch.Butterscotch.Skipping.Handstands.Football with an old can.Fingerbob.Beano, Dandy, Buster, Twinkle and Dennis the menace.Roly Poly.Hula Hoops, jumping the stream, building dams.The smell of the sun and fresh cut grass.Bazooka Joe bubble gum.An ice cream cone on a warm summer night from the van that plays a tuneChocolate or vinilla or strawberry or maybe Neapolitan or perhaps ascrewball.Wait......Watching Saturday morning cartoons, short commercials or the flicks.Childrens Film Foundation, The Double Deckers, Red Hand Gang, The TomorrowPeople, Tiswas or Swapshop?, and `Why Don`t You`? - or staying up forDoctor Who.When around the corner seemed far away and going into town seemed like going somewhere.Earwigs, wasps, stinging nettles and bee stings.White dog shit.Sticky fingers.Playing Marbles. Ball bearings. Big `uns and Little `uns.Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians and Zorro.Climbing trees.Building igloos out of snow banks.Walking to school, no matter what the weather.Running till you were out of breath, laughing so hard that your stomachhurt.Jumping on the bed. Pillow fights.Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for giggles.Being tired from playing....remember that?The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team.Water balloons were the ultimate weapon.Football cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle.Choppers and Grifters.Eating raw jelly. Orange squash ice pops.Remember when...There were two types of trainers - girls and boys, and Dunlop Green Flash -and the only time you wore them at school was for P.E.You knew everyone in your street - and so did your parents.It wasn’t odd to have two or three "best" friends.You didn’t sleep a wink on Christmas eve.When nobody owned a pure-bred dog.When 25p was decent pocket money.Curly Whirlys. Space Dust. Toffo`s.Top Trumps.When you would reach into a muddy gutter for a penny.When nearly everyone’s mum was at home when the kids got there.When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceriesand nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When being sent to the head’s office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited amisbehaving kid at home.Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn’t because of drive-byshootings, drugs, gangs etc.Parents and Grandparents were a much bigger threat! and some of us arestill afraid of them. Didn’t that feel good?Just go back and say, Yeah, I remember that! Remember when....Decisions were made by going "Ip Dip Dog Shit""Race issue" meant arguing about who ran the fastest.Money issues were handled by whoever was banker in "Monopoly".The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was germs.And the worst thing in your day was having to sit next to one.It was unbelievable that `British Bulldog 123` wasn’t an Olympic event.Having a weapon in school, meant being caught with a catapult.Nobody was prettier than Mum.Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better.Taking drugs meant orange-flavoured chewable aspirin.Ice cream was considered a basic food group.Getting a foot of snow was a dream come true.Older siblings were the worst tormentors, but also the fiercestprotectors.If you can remember most or all of these, then you have LIVED.
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