MY POLITICS - OR NOT ??

MY POLITICS  - OR NOT ???   A PIECE FOR MY BLOG

An easy one for me as I don’t actually have any interest in politics either national or local at all, unless any of it directly affects any major part of my life.  This is especially so now in the latter part of my life when nothing much except illness affects me anyway.

For the record I have in the past served on local committees mainly concerned with regeneration or planning matters where local or national politics have not been a major issue.

In any case most politics consists of a bunch of self centred wankers trying as hard as they can to push forward their own ideas of progress whilst pleasing as many of their supporters as they can without upsetting too many on the other side.  And quite possibly making  a few quid out of it for themselves.  

I have never in my life voted for any political party and never ever will as they mostly spew out nothing but useless shit in their effort to raise what they call “funds”.

Whenever anything has ever happened in my life that has or might have the result in making any kind of adverse effect on my lifestyle I have gone directly  to the rule-makers or even the law-makers and made so much of a nuisance of my self to make them seriously think of changing the rules, mostly with reasonable success.

There are of course exceptions to the rule in one of whom the exceptional Oona King come immediately to mind.   The genes of her ancestors – and more recently her uncle – Martin Luther King - is a fine example and it was no surprise for me when Oona was elevated to the House of Lords.  Perhaps to get her out of the way perhaps, but she is a powerful individual in her own right.  The genes of her venerable ancestors still runs through her veins and not a person to deliberately get on the wrong side of.     

 

The Red Poppy of Remembrance

The Red Poppy of Remembrance:

When I see the sea of Red Poppies that appeared everywhere in the UK in 2018 and the cascade of media publicity that goes with it I do not get an instant surge of patriotic sentimentalism – and the urge to celebrate in prayer and thanksgiving for what is described by our political and religious leaders as the war that ended all wars.

For me the only thing I see are RIVERS OF BLOOD – the blood of young men ( and women too ) that were mostly tricked or blackmailed into going off to war to supposedly fight for their country.

The carnage, the destruction, the broken bodies of young men with their lives still before them blown into bloody pieces in a war that involved the deaths of 50 million people. A war about nothing much at all , that was no different at the end of it and didn’t stop a repeat performance 18 years later

And there was then and there still is - nothing at all to celebrate. And nothing much to remember except for the sheer stupidity of it all.   

Family , Music and the marvels of Modern Technology

This Friday was the start of a superb weekend when the wonders of modern technology brought the complete Johan Strauss Concert Orchestra in all its glory to a tiny cinema in the centre of Stowmarket , a small village in rural Suffolk.  A brand new huge screen with surround sound transported the audience in the Regal Cinema right into the very centre of Maastrict in Holland.

We felt that we were actually there - amongst an audience of people that had come from all over Europe – and also from as far away from the USA to attend this fabulous event.

It was nothing less than a wonderful extravaganza of top class musical ability, the orchestra led by Andre Rieu, himself a world class violinist and streamed live all over the world in real time.  We felt extremely priviledged  to be there  amongst an audience singing and dancing in joyfull pleasure who would have paid a fairly large sum of money for the pleasure.

We paid ten quid , and it was probably the best tenner I have ever spent.

I was especially moved by the soloists rendition of Jerusalem, which brought tears to my eyes and have ordered a copy of it from Amazon.

Jennie also arranged for the six of us to have Lunch together on the Sunday at a restaurant in the old part of Bury St Edmunds. Most enjoyable and probably the last time we will meet up with Lewis for a while as he is now off to Birmingham where he will begin a six year course to became a G.P.  He is a naturally caring person and I am sure that he will make a first class doctor.  

The rest of the weekend was organised by daughter Jennie aided by her man David, a very talented maker of top quality jewellery who has just accepted a commission to make me a nice diamond ring.

We had a very nice Sunday lunch at a small restaurant in the centre of Bury St Edmunds together with my other daughter’s son the lovely Lewis and his charming girlfriend Selma.  Lewis and Barbara’s eldest grand daughter Kamara were good friends and played together when they were just children and we had time to remember it all while we ate together.  Lewis is now 19 and a handsome 6 foot tall man who has just started on the first round of his training at Birmingham University so I don’t think we will see that much of him for a while.

Still , it’s nice too see our two distinctly different family groups coming together via the lovely gentle Kamara and this lovely elegant young man – also known when a nine year old as Marvo the Magician.    Fond memories of times

A Family Weekend

A Family Weekend.

Family , Music and the marvels of Modern Technology

This Friday was the start of a superb weekend when the wonders of modern technology brought the complete Johan Strauss Concert Orchestra in all its glory to a tiny cinema in the centre of Stowmarket , a small village in rural Suffolk.  A brand new huge screen with surround sound transported the audience in the Regal Cinema right into the very centre of Maastrict in Holland.

We felt that we were actually there - amongst an audience of people that had come from all over Europe – and also from as far away from the USA to attend this fabulous event.

It was nothing less than a wonderful extravaganza of top class musical ability, the orchestra led by Andre Rieu, himself a world class violinist and streamed live all over the world in real time.  We felt extremely priviledged  to be there  amongst an audience singing and dancing in joyfull pleasure who would have paid a fairly large sum of money for the pleasure.

We paid ten quid , and it was probably the best tenner I have ever spent.

I was especially moved by the soloists rendition of Jerusalem, which brought tears to my eyes and have ordered a copy of it from Amazon.

Jennie also arranged for the six of us to have Lunch together on the Sunday at a restaurant in the old part of Bury St Edmunds. Most enjoyable and probably the last time we will meet up with Lewis for a while as he is now off to Birmingham where he will begin a six year course to became a G.P.  He is a naturally caring person and I am sure that he will make a first class doctor.  

The rest of the weekend was organised by daughter Jennie aided by her man David, a very talented maker of top quality jewellery who has just accepted a commission to make me a nice diamond ring.

We had a very nice Sunday lunch at a small restaurant in the centre of Bury St Edmunds together with my other daughter’s son the lovely Lewis and his charming girlfriend Selma.  Lewis and Barbara’s eldest grand daughter Kamara were good friends and played together when they were just children and we had time to remember it all while we ate together.  Lewis is now 19 and a handsome 6 foot tall man who has just started on the first round of his training at Birmingham University so I don’t think we will see that much of him for a while.

Still , it’s nice too see our two distinctly different family groups coming together via the lovely gentle Kamara and this lovely elegant young man – also known when a nine year old as Marvo the Magician.    Fond memories of times gone by. 

Traditional Craft Workshops

Traditional Craft Workshops(TCW)  & Independent Discount Warehouses (IDW).

You couldn’t say that I had the finest start in life, but just the same there were a whole lot of children much worse off than me.

I would have been conceived in October 1939 the month that the second world war began and by the time that I was born in May 1939 my father was dead – wiped out together with his entire platoon in the first couple of months of the war, leaving his wife – my mother – a war widow.

She re-married when I was four years old and my step father a kind man, treated me no differently than he did the three other children in his life – one who came with him from his first wife and the other two with my mother.

I reckon I had a pretty happy childhood in just about every way, all of which is well documented in the first part of my autobiography, however my life changed quite dramatically when I passed my 11 plus exams and went on to continue my studies at The Royal Liberty School in Romford, Essex. That one single element in my life made me into an entirely different person than the one that I might have otherwise become.

From a modest start – getting my feet on to the property ladder, marriage and children - I was soon absorbed in various business affairs. At the cutting edge of the new retailing revolution and my own version of business innovation I was soon involved in the idea of re-cycling and the promotion of artisan crafts.

I personally invented and promoted the idea of Traditional Craft Workshops to the degree of actually setting up a section of real workshops to rent and persuading craftsmen type workers to take them on. 

The idea had a kind of built in sustainability and many of them are still working today just as they were in the beginning. Now promoted by the media and in regular TV programmes it should guarantee success way into the future. Another of my ideas way ahead of the game.

About Cliff Richards.

About Sir Cliff Richard – christened Harry Webb.

I have always had a kind of moderated empathy with the pop star (Sir) Cliff Richard, although our paths have only occasionally crossed – and then many years ago in his early days of fame.  Although we were born thousands of miles apart – him in India and me in the East End of London and with only 4 months between us-  I found him to be a very pleasant and polite person despite already  being an incredibly popular ( and talented ) entertainer from the very start of his career. And from recent  media coverage he  still seems to be basically the same kind of person.

Of course his homosexuality – once hidden from the public for many years – is now common knowledge, a fact which he now has to cope with after the many years of adoration by his millions of loyal female ( & many male ) fans.  

His 1963 hit song Batchelor Boy ( the line “happy to be a bachelor boy until his dying day” might have given us a clue to his sexuality then) has come to be actual fact as Cliff has never married although several unsuccessful attempts have been made to link him to possible girlfriends.  He is of course and always will be a committed homosexual , his brain irreversibly damaged from birth. ( see my essay Homosexuality the Cause & Effect.) 

Unfortunately he has had a bit of a rough time lately what with the internet and what is laughingly called social media able to say anything they like about him, while any attempts by him to put his side of the story only tend to make things look even worse than they really are.

Cliff is now a old man and most of the time despite the stress , the make up and his extreme wealth looks it for most of the time he is exposed to the pubic gaze. 

He still has a wonderful singing voice and is also fortunate in being able to get away from it all to his very private small vineyard estate , possibly with some kind of friend/companion of similar  lifestyle/persuasion.

I do feel very sorry for him as he had no choice in his inherited genetic lifestyle and like very many homosexuals terribly unhappy with their lot has tried just about everything possible to try to correct it , but of course to no avail at all. 

And there is not very much more than I can say about it - except to wish him luck for the future.  

good humour

We can often discover good humour in the strangest of places. Not long ago I bought a small book – not much more than a booklet actually – in Waterstones Piccadilly store.  Published in 2017 it was a light hearted look at The British Diplomatic Service over a period of years and made good reading.

Here is a short piece that I have pinched from it – with apologies to the Turkish population everywhere.

It’s a letter from the British Ambassador to Moscow to Lord Pembroke at the Foreign Office , London dated 1943.

“My dear Reggie,

In these dark days man tend to look for those little shafts of light that spill from the heavens.  My days are probably darker than yours and I need - my god I do - all the light I can get .

But I am a decent fellow and I do not wish to be mean and selfish about what brightness is shed upon me . So, I propose to share with you a tiny flash that has illuminated my sombre life and tell you that God has given me a new Turkish colleague whose card tells me that he is called Mustapha Kunt.

Well , we all feel like that Reggie from time to time especially when spring is upon us, but few of us would care to put it on our cards.

It takes a Turk to do that ! “