Did My Anger Burn Richard Branson’s House Down?
If it did, I of course apologise, but then the response of Virgin Media to my lack of landline would try the patience of a saint. And of course, I may be many things, but I’m no saint!
My landline probably failed about the 1st of August, but I’m unsure when, as my TV and broadband was still working and I mistakenly thought that the landline came through the cable. I may be an electronic engineer, but hardware and especially telecoms hardware has always been a mystery to me. Those that tried to reach me on the landline failed and so tried my reliable Nokia 6310i connected through o2.
Only about the 10th of August did I realise that the landline was broken and eventually phoned them on the 12th. Virgin Media support, said that the line was OK and would I try another phone. Not so easy when you live by yourself and don’t have a spare one handy. So in the end I bought a new phone from Maplin for about £30 to test the line. That may seem expensive, but it is a twin one and I needed that anyway. The lack of phone line just brought my purchase forward by a month or so.
The phone didn’t connect either, so I spent another hour or so trying to get through to Virgin. At one time, I was left on hold to rediculous music, which I couldn’t stand. And of course I was paying for the expensive call on my mobile phone. One idiot at Virgin might actually told me to use the ladline as it would be cheaper but another did try to sell me a new calling plan, which would be cheaper. It strikes me that Virgin have already found me a very cheap calling plan. It’s called the no phone plan.
At this point I phoned BT and they will be taking over the phone from the 30th of August.
I finally got some sense out of Virgin by phoning them up and cancelling. But this will cost me £70. The lady with the sense also made sure that an egineer would come round on Monday the 22nd.
They did and fixed the phone. But the engineers did say there was a problem with the cable and it would need properly fixing later. This would of course mean digging up the new pavement. They actually accused the works of causing the problem with the phone, but retracted that when I told them, that the phone line had failed before the work started.
Yesterday, someone very polite, (Unlike me!) , from Virgin phoned to check that everything was OK. The phone hasn’t worked since.
My Landline
Looking at the cable from the outside, it doesn’t look as though it’s a much better piece of work than their cabinets.
This morning it was the usual Virgin get connected obstacle race and I lost it. Wouldn’t you? In the end they phoned back a couple of times, but always at inconvenient or noisy moments. It doesn’t help that there’s a road drill outside.
So now I’ve decided to wait until BT connect my broadband on Tuesday.
I have completely lost what little faith if any I ever had in Virgin Media.
I hope Sir Richard didn’t have to call the emergency sevices on one of his own phone lines! Or perhaps he was waiting for the lines to be fixed and the firemen didn’t get the message quick enough.
Is Cider Good For You?
it is reported on the BBC that alcohol-related disease is very much on the rise, in a study from John Moores University.
Here’s an extract from the BBC report.
Annual rates for alcohol-related hospital admission in Liverpool are 3,114 per 100,000 compared to 849 per 100,000 in the Isle of Wight.
In Blackpool, the findings showed the number of deaths from chronic liver disease were 46 per 100,000 men and 21 per 100,000 women, compared with the lowest rates in the City of London and in West Somerset where nobody died of liver disease.
Does the last bit mean that cider is good for you?
You’d have thought that the City of London would be higher up the list too. Although, I did have lunch with a stockbroker yesterday and all he had was a bottle of Italian beer. But he did have to ride his bike back to Kingston after work.
Fred the Shred’s Annoyance Over Pink Biscuits
A new book, Masters of Nothing: The Crash and how it will happen again unless we understand human nature
The former boss of Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS) vented his anger over the pink wafer in an email titled “Rogue Biscuit” in an example of his “overbearing” management style that may help explain the collapse of the bank in 2008, the new book claims.
I find it strange that the biscuit was pink. Is there a psychologist out there, who can offer a better explanation than the obvious one?
I think if anybody had treated me like that, I’d have gone straight to my lawyer and someone like Max Clifford.
The only way you will rid businss of overbearing bullies is to stand up to them using the full force available.
Those accolytes who surrounded Fred the Shred must be partly guilty in many peoples’ eyes for the mess they allowed him to create.
And what were the non-executive directors doing? If the answer was nothing, they were failing all of the bank’s employees, customers and shareholders. And of course ultimately, UK taxpayers. Have any of those non-executive directors been disqualified? The respected newspaper calls them the Silent Nine.
Payment Protection Insurance and Credit Cards
I got a letter yesterday from Aviva saying that the terms of my payment protection insurance were being changed. It indicated that the insurance was with HSBC. Now HSBC may be a reputable bank, but I’ve never dealt with them. It then turned out that the insurance related to a credit card that I have that is managed by the bank.
When C died, I had a problem with household expenses and needed a second card to keep them separate from my business expenses, so I got one quickly. It would appear that in the form, you needed to check the box to say you didn’t want the insurance, rather than say you wanted it. So I was fooled and have been paying for something I didn’t want for three years.
I wonder how many others have unnecessary insurance they don’t want.
I hadn’t spotted it, as every month I just paid off the value at the bottom of the account. Others may even do this by a direct debit to save money.
I wonder if C was paying this form of insurance on any of her cards! I shall be finding out, as her method of paying cards was to write a cheque for the full amount and then put the bill through the shredder.
You may think that I can’t claim as she died three years ago. Oh! Yes I can! Sometimes the bereaved get very angry. You may have a target out there, who will give you enough money for a small celebration.
It’s not difficult to claim. Just go to this page in Money Saving Expert. It might be a profitable way to spend a wet Sunday afternoon, and as Martin Lewis says it’ll only cost you some paper and a couple of stamps.
Oxfam And Cath Tate Cards
I had to deliver some of my throw outs to Oxfam yesterday and was surprised to see that my branch in Dalston stocks the Cath Tate Cards. As I needed a couple I bought two there for under four pounds.
Planning for the August Bank Holiday
As I’ve said before, I hate bank holidays.
For next Monday though I have a plan. Whilst I was travelling in Tottenham, I saw on the map a building named as Markfield Beam Engine and Museum.
I shall be going as it is in steam on the Monday.
I could even go to the football in the evening at Ipswich!
But the aim is to enjoy myself and judging by the way they are playing at the moment, a team made up of eleven fit men in the North Stand could do better.
The Man Who Could Have Changed History
I’m half watching a play about Hitler. But I’m finding it a bit difficult to follow, probably because of the hay fever’s effect on my hearing.
It is set in or about 1930 and I am reminded of another tale. It is in Lord Howard de Walden’s obituary in The Guardian.
He inherited 120 acres of London’s west end and bred and owned the 1985 Derby winner, Slip Anchor. But the story he loved to dine out on was when, as a young Cambridge student fresh out of Eton, he was driving a new car in Munich when a man walked out in front of him and was knocked down. “He was only shaken up,” recalled de Walden. “But had I killed him, it would have changed the history of the world.” The man was Adolf Hitler.
I never actually met him, but I knew a few people who worked for him, who never said any word about him that wasn’t complimentary. My last vision of him was shortly before he died, sitting in state in a wheel-chair at Newmarket races, immaculately turned out ciomplete with apricot coloured socks; his racing colours as suggested by Augustus John.
Personalised Spider Bus Maps
London’s spider bus maps are good and are starting to be copied by other places. This is the one for Bruce Grove and Bruce Castle.
I think it would be rather nice if you could create personalised ones, so that you could show all the routes to or from your house or business.
Memories of Wood Green
I walked up to Bruce Castle Museum from Bruce Grove station early this afternoon. It was not a difficult walk and there are some buildings worth looking at on the way.
Luke Howard, Namer of Clouds Lived Here
This rather derelict building being refurbished was the home of Luke Howard. He seems to have been an amazing man with a wide degree of scientific interests, who should be remembered for a lot more than his classification of clouds. He must also have been the only pharmacist praised in a poem by Goethe.
But Howard gives us with his clear mindThe gain of lessons new to all mankind;That which no hand can reach, no hand can claspHe first has gained, first held with mental grasp.
I suspect too, that he might have been the Howard after whom the local telephone exchange in Enfield was named. Enfield Rolling Mills, who were my father’s biggest customer and where I worked for a couple of summers, had a phone number of Howard 1255. There is a list of all the old London exchange names here.
I enjoyed the museum, as it brought back some happy memories for me. I will be back.
- C’s godmother and her sister had worked at the Gestetner factory in Tottenham Hale and had a flat which would have been in the middle of the riots, although it looked like no damage was done. They were a lovely pair of sisters, who’d had a hard life, but who always remained cheerful to the end. They both lived into their eighties and still had all their marbles when they died. But I think, if they’d had the sort of healthcare that we get now, they might have had a few more years. Both seemed to keep falling over and breaking thighs and other bones.
- One memory the museum brought back was a tale from my grandmother about the Belgian refugees, who were put up in Alexandra Palace after the First World War.
- I can also remember the Monday evening crowds swarming past my father’s printworks on Station Road to the racecourse. Someone used to setup a Crown and Anchor board to fleece punters before they even got to the races, outside the works on Station Road. If the police turned up he allowed them to duck inside, provided they put a couple of notes in the charity box my father had on the counter.
- I also saw the inside of a pub for the first time at about eight, when my father used to take me for lunch on Saturdays to the Jolly Anglers in Station Road, when we both worked in the works.
- When we were at school, we often drive to Ally Pally to have a drink, as no-one seemed to bother how old you were in the bar there. You would then take your drinks out and sit on the grass to admire one of the best views in London.
- In the museum was a display, which had some stationery from Ward’s Stores at Seven Sisters. In the early 1960s, I used to work in a paper shop, who delivered them to Mr. Ward. Rumours had it, that he was dying of something and was getting a bottle of Scotch a day on the NHS.
Next time I visit, I’ll have a serious look at the archives.
My Allergies and Me
I seem to be getting no relief from the hay fever at all this summer. Just as it seems the pollen level gets to a low level for a day, it then rises back up again. I had lunch with a friend yesterday and he never suffers, but he is this year. It’s a story that I’ve heard so many times in the last few months from others. No-one seems to have any idea about it either.
I don’t get any luck with it either. On Friday I was to see a consultant about it, but for administrative reasons the appointment was put back for a few days. Any sane person, would think that the Devil has it in for them, if they had suffered the last three years I have. To make matters worse, the sale of my house in Suffolk, seems to be moving slowly and Ipswich lost by seven goals to one last night. But I’m still here, which is more than can be said for my wife and youngest son.
I also had a good lunch yesterday with friends, essentially to celebrate my birthday on Tuesday. Even Ipswich contrived to lose six two that night.
I know it’s only a small thing, but I slept well last night and got up feeling fresh. So I thought, it might be a good idea to go to perhaps Brighton or Southend and get a bit of sea air. But after checking the pollen levels, I decided against it as levels were moderate in all the places I checked. And the excellent Met Office web site, says that it’ll be Tuesday before the levels get better.
So I think I’ll go and see my therapist today. I’m not sure where I’ll explore, but because it is so easy and fairly close, I think I might go to Bruce Castle Museum this afternoon.
What I will do is reflect on my life and especially this dreaded hay fever.
I will start with my ancestors. I’m certain that it’s my father’s line that has the really bad genes and has brought me the allergies. From what I know now, I’m certain that he was a coeliac like me. He certainly had more wind than the Outer Hebrides. He was always choked up with catarrh and ate menthol catarrh tablets like others eat sweets. He was also a heavy pipe smoker and that couldn’t have helped. His father had died young of pneumonia and my father had told me, that my grandfather was a heavy drinker and smoker, who suffered from asthma. My father told me graphic stories about how he would pick him up in a terrible state from places like Wood Green Conservative Club. One of the strange things about my father’s family, is that there is very few women, who have ever given birth. Could this be the coeliac gene, which doesn’t help women carrying a viable foetus to full term.
Unfortunately, I don’t have my school records, but it would make interesting reading, as I can remember taking endless time off because I just wasn’t up to it. I seemed to be coughing all the time and spent many nights with my head over a jug of Friar’s Balsam. At one time I supposedly got a case of scarlet fever. How I ever got to a Grammar School I don’t know! Luckily, we had television and I had my Meccano to amuse myself with. And that is what I did, when I was at home. Most weekends I would be off to my father’s print works, where I did useful things. To say, I was an indoor child would not be an understatement. And we worry about kids spending too much time on their computers.
So what was it that made me so ill? Unfortunately, my medical records are incomplete and start in 1970. If only they were on a central database, that I could access!
My GP, one Dr. Egerton White, thought I was allergic to eggs, and so I was rationed to one a week. Did it help? Not at all. My father thought it might be the paint in our house, which he thought contained lead and I can remember him stripping it all off and using modern lead-free paints. It could also have been his smoking or the coal fires we had in those days, but I didn’t really improve much. I suppose it might have got better, when my parents bought a house in Felixstowe, but we only went for the odd weekends. But at least I used to walk a lot by the sea.
I think in some ways, I just grew out of the worst times and what finally killed it in some ways was going to Liverpool, where I spent the next three years at the University on top of a hill with the wind in the west.
So perhaps it was just hay fever of a particularly persistent form, as from what I can remember, I don’t feel much different now. The only difference, is that now I’m on a strict gluten-free diet after having been diagnosed as a coeliac ten years ago. That cured a lot of my problems, like chronic dandruff.
All of my levels like B12 are spot on, so it’s not as if I lack anything.
Since C died, I’ve started to get a few problems, like tight shins, difficulty in breathing and spots on my chest, back and legs. I scratch them a lot, when I’m alone.
I have been told on good authority by an academic I respect, that widows can suffer high cortisol levels and the Internet indicates there may be a link.
So has all the stress I’ve suffered in the previous three years, brought the hay fever back?
I sometimes think, that my mind learned how to control it and the stroke knocked out that knowledge, but that is just a feeling not based on any fact. I have been told by a serious doctor, that stroke patients sometimes have pain return from previous injuries. He did find problems in my neck, which are improving through physiotherapy.
