Do We Need Trident?
Trident is going to cost £20 billion to replace and the government has announced that the MoD must find the full cost from its budget. So if we renew it, other programs will have to be cut back.
I don’t think that we now need programs such as Trident! When we had an obvious enemy in the Cold War, it was different, but suppose some Iranian terrorists planned to let off a bomb in London, would being able to bomb Teheran deter them? Of course not! Perhaps all we need is a few submarine- or air-lauched cruise missiles, so that we could make sure that we got some revenge.
I also question other programs like the two aircraft carriers. For the type of wars we would fight today, it would be better to stay with our current smaller ones and Harriers.
The trouble is that defence has nothing to do with what you need, it’s all about pride. If say the French have nuclear weapons and aircraft carriers, our politicians feel, we should have them too.
It could be argued that the British intervention in Sierra Leone to help end the civil war there is a model for how our forces should be used to bring peace and stability to the world. Have we got the right forces and equipment to do the same again?
Anyone for Squirrel?
I always refer to squirrels as American tree rats, because of the damage they do to trees and because they chase our native and much better red squirrels away. They were one of the first American cultural imports, like burgers and baseball caps, that we can well do without!
So to see that Budgens are now selling them in Crouch End is good. As they say in Suffolk, “Make the buggers work!” That was originally said by a farmer and horse-coper called Dick Freeman, when I told him that my business partner and his wife, had been offered a local speciality in Geneva; raw donkey meat. They had been horrified as at the time, as they had had a pet one called Robin. Dick hated donkeys with a passion, as they give worms to horses.
Our housekeeper at Debach was partial to squirrel and told me that young ones were very nice if fried in a little butter.
Remember though, I am of an age, who was brought up when meat was rationed in the 1940s and early 1950s. As rabbit was off coupon and my father had a customer, who could get it, we had quite a few rabbit pies in those days.
I still like rabbit and would try squirrel in a decent restaurant. After all it’s gluten-free isn’t it?
I doubt I’ll ever go again due to my health, but on Salina in the Aeolian Islands, rabbit is the local speciality, as rabbits are wild and plentiful. The rabbit at the Hotel Signum is exquisite. It’s an ambition to go again and a goal to aspire to.
If I Could Own Just One Painting
I had come to Charing Cross, so that I could go to the National Gallery to see the Acts of Mercy paintings that used to be in the Middlesex Hospital. I’m no art expert, but they have to be seen to be believed. You might think art has no place in hospitals these days, but Addenbrookes has an extensive collection, which I think makes staff and patients feel better. Addenbrookes also marked 800 years of Cambridge University with the unvieling of a mural by Quentin Blake, showing various alumni of the University.
They also say this on their web site.
The arts have the potential to distract, amuse, enlighten and engage patients, staff and visitors. In recent years, a growing body of evidence has been compiled proving the value of the arts in healthcare settings. Earlier this year, this resulted in the Department of Health issuing its first ever review of arts in health which recognised that the arts “are, and should be firmly recognised as being, integral to health, healthcare provision and healthcare environments, including supporting staff”.
It is sad that those paintings from the Middlesex, couldn’t have been found a home in the new hospital on Euston Road.
I also had time to visit my favourite painting and the one above all others, I would own; Whistlejacket by George Stubbs. Noone has ever painted horses like Stubbs, capturing their power, feelings and character so well!
Saying Sorry
Camilla Cavendish hit the nail firmly on the head with her piece entitled Just say sorry, I promise I won’t sue you! in yesterday’s Times.
It makes a lot of difference and is so easy, especially with new technology. For instance, why not have a Sorry, your points are noted signature in your Outlook setup, so when someone e-mails you with a complaint about a late train, you can at least get the start of the reply right.
I recently made a complaint to O2 about the non-performance of the courier swapping a mobile phone. I Got a proper letter starting with a sorry, going through the problems with the courier and then ending with a thank you.
In fact, as they had my e-mail address, they didn’t actually need to write, so they obviously thought about their response.
i’ve also had an apology from my John Lewis Partnership card about the non-delivery of vouchers, as they are having troubles with the supplier. That came with 500 extra points.
So perhaps things are getting better.
I know that when I bump into people on the street because of my bad visibility because of the strokes I have had, I more often than not get a sorry in return. Often before I’ve spoken!
I hope so!
Tutu Withdraws
I don’t have any religion, but I do try to follow a moral path, that tries not to hurt others in any way. I don’t succeed all the time.
If though, I have a priest who I can admire in all ways, it is Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Here is a man who has faced up to life’s most difficult challenges with a bravery and a sense of humour, that we could all do well to try to emulate.
I do hope that now Tutu has decided to withdraw from public life, that he doesn’t stop appearing on and in the media, on the one hand to cajole us to make the world a better place and on the other to amuse us.
The world would be a worse place without Tutu’s involvement and I know the inevitable happens to us all, but there are still many things for the wonderful priest to do. Let’s hope he gets most of them done!
I wish him a very long and happy retirement! I doubt it will be quiet though!
Will The Last Member To Leave Please Turn Out The Lights!
There is a touch of sadness about the closure of Trimdon Labour Club in Tony Blair’s old constituency of Sedgefield. But it is a pattern that is being followed all over the country, as clubs;political or otherwise fall on hard times.
So why do I say there is a touch of sadness? Some people, mainly of a certain generation, will mourn the loss of a quiet place for a drink, where theyt can talk about their leeks and whippets and moan about the government. Most will not as the club, and especially those that were run by and for men, have had a good run and their time is now past. And there are better and more exciting places to spend an evening.
My father used to go down the Conservative Club at the end of the road and always left my mother at home. To most couples these days that is just not how you behave, as there is so much more to do!
So in truth, as another club throws in the towel, it probably means that a whole group of people have already found a better life.
I’m very Marxist (Groucho tendency) on clubs, in that I wouldn’t join any that would accept me as a member!
The Thunder of Three-Thousand Three-Hundred Horses
I think it was Paul Theroux, who wrote about waking up to the sound of the railroad. At home in Cockfosters, I used to hear the sound of the steam trains travelling north towards the North and Scotland, as they ran through Oakleigh Park and New Barnet. From about eight I used to cycle to the line to collect train numbers. It was towards the end of the steam age, and I can still see and smell, Gresley‘s magnificent A4 Pacifics as they roared through Hadley Wood, where we used to put pennies on the line, so they were squashed flat. I also broke a front tooth at Oakleigh Park, when I fell off my bike. It has been capped twice, so hopefully it is a good omen for the rest of my body.
Everything started to change in 1955, when an interloper arrived on the scene, in the shape of English Electric’s Deltic prototype, which I could hear as it raced north once a day. It was called Deltic after its lightweight and very compact Napier diesel engine of the same name. At the time, the 3,300 bhp made them the most powerful railway engine in the world. The diesel engines had originally been developed during the Second World War to power ships like MTBs and mine hunters, but found their fame in the powerful railway engine. Some of the engines even ended up in fast patrol boats in the US Navy.
The Deltic signalled the end of an era and by the time I went to Liverpool University in 1965, all the formidable A4s had gone to be replaced by the production Deltics or Class 55s, as they are more correctly called.
When I worked for ICI at Welwyn Garden City in the very early seventies, I travelled north a few times to the manufacturing site at Wilton on Teesside behind the Class 55s.
One of the most memorable train journeys I have ever experienced, if not the most memorable, was on one of the return trips from Teesside.
I had finished my work at Wilton that day, when I was rung by the Transport Office, who asked if I ‘d mind being taken to Darlington early to catch the London train, as they had a VIP, who wanted to go early for the train to Bristol. I said yes, as that would mean a car journey in comfort instead of the local train from Eaglescliffe, through the hell-like landscape of the steelworks.
In the end, I arrived at Darlington with about an hour to wait for my train. After looking at Locomotion No. 1, which in those days was displayed on the platform, I retired to the bar for a pint. Just as I was settling in a chair, an announcement said that the train now arriving was the delayed Talisman for London. I asked if I should board the train and if I did would I get to London early. I got a double yes, left my pint and got on the train, which at that time was running forty-five minutes late, as a generator slung under a carriage had disintegrated and they’d had to stop to leave the offending carriage behind.
There is an interesting aside here about Locomotion No. 1, in that Hunter Davies saw the engine on the station and then went into W. H. Smith on the station to buy a book for the journey back to London. As he had just seen the engine, he looked for a biography of its creator, George Stephenson , only to be told that no-one had written one. Later he supposedly checked this with his agent, who then suggested that he write the book. So that is why an author of popular biographies of the such of the Beatles and Wayne Rooney, ended up writing the first biography of the only engineer, known to nearly everybody.
At the time of my return trip, the fastest Darlington to Kings Cross trains took three hours, whereas today a time of two hours forty-five minutes is about average, with the fastest ones taking about two hours twenty-five minutes. I should say that Darlington is 232 miles from Kings Cross.
My train that day had a clear run, as it had delayed everything behind it, so the driver was able to open up those Napier Deltic engines to try to regain the lost forty-five minutes.
And regain them he did!
Despite stops at probably York, Doncaster, Newark and Peterborough, he was able to keep the speed to such a level, that by the time we stopped in London, he was on time. So that means he probably took two hours fifteen minutes, which worked out as an average speed of just over 103 miles per hour including stops. Not bad for a train with a maximum speed of just 100. I actually timed the train at about this speed, just north of Peterborough.
Train journeys are not like that today. I remember eating dinner on the train and it was possibly the worst-served meal, I’ve ever had on a train, as the waiter had difficulty walking up and down, as the train bumped and lurched. The guard also kept passing through, announcing the latest estimate of our arrival time in Kings Cross.
I sometimes think that time has enlivened this story, but it was a wonderful thrill to find out what a properly-driven Deltic could do. Eurostars, TGVs and the other modern fast trains don’t give that same feeling! Certainly my trip to Middlesbrough behind a Class 91 for part of the way will not be so exciting.
Shirley Valentine
I have never seen Willy Russell‘s iconic play, Shirley Valentine about the Liverpool housewife, but I have seen the film starring Pauline Collins and Tom Conti. It is now being staged in London again, with Meera Syal as Shirley. It may seem stage that an actress of Indian origin should take this role, but this play has a history of good actresses of many races and nationalites having success with the part of Shirley.
I remember once many years ago, I drove from Chicago to Washington, leaving The Windy City just as it was getting dark. For the first two hours, I was listening to a chat show on the radio, where Ellen Burstyn spoke about her role as Shirley in the play, which was touring the United States and was at that time running in Chicago. Having heard that interview, I regretted that I had not known about the play, whilst in Chicago, as I would certainly gone and seen it. Ellen explained how she had been nervous to take on the play, as being set in Liverpool, she was worried about the accent. But then Willy Russell had reassured her and she decided to have a go. She said she couldn’t do the accent, but that she could do Irish, as she had that blood. Willy then explained that most Liverpudlians had Irish ancestry, so an Irish accent would do. In the end she made a great success of the part of Shirley.
So now that Meera Syal is taking over the part in London, all she is doing is following a great tradition of playing one of the best parts ever written for an actress.
The Forsyth Saga
That sums up Who Do You Think You Are? tonight on Bruce Forsyth. The program was mostly about Bruce’s great-grandfather, Joseph Forsyth Johnson, who was a landscape gardener and bigamist. East Enders had nothing on him for relationships and drama. Incidentally, forsythia is named after Joseph’s father.
