EVENIN` ALL...

It`s not very often I feel the need to write about our boys in blue but I noticed a report the other day about the police here in Kent facing criticism after releasing a photograph of two of their officers holding up a gypsy flag.  Here`s a not very good photo of the photo which Kent Police posted on Twitter....of all things......

The officers photographed are Deputy Chief Constable Tony Blaker and PC Kate West and they are shown holding up the blue and green flag with a red caravan wheel in the centre - the Gypsy Roma Travellers flag.   The Force Twitter post said, "We are marking GRT History month by raising the flag, helping to show our continued support for diverse communities.  Kent`s history has a rich Gypsy and Roma heritage and we`ll continue to work with all communities to ensure this is a welcoming county for all."

Following some criticism on Twitter and elsewhere Kent Police defended their right to celebrate diversity, saying that showing support could improve their relationship with groups such as travellers.   DC Blaker went on to say, "British policing is by consent and Kent Police seeks to positively engage with all our communities.  In doing so we regularly show our support for other national and international events and religious festivals."  This comes shortly after Kent`s Chief Constable, Alan Pughsley, was shown `taking the knee` in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.

Now here in our small Kentish village we have had the pleasure over many years of seeing a family of genuine gypsy travellers visiting us for a day or so to rest their horse, stay overnight on an area of green before moving on next day.   They have been exemplary in their behaviour and respect for the local community - they left the place as they found it and you would never know they had been there.

Contrast that with the frequent `invasions` - for that is what they are - by `travellers` who turn up en masse, break down gates, forcibly enter the village green areas, park their 4x4s, their white vans, their trucks and trailers wherever they want, transgress all manner of rules and regulations, create mayhem by hurling abuse at local residents and leaving an unholy mess behind for the local council to deal with.

I just hope that Kent Police`s flag waving is in genuine support of the authentic Gypsy Roma travellers rather than the `wider traveller community,` with whose crimes and misdemeanours the law abiding council taxpayers have to contend. But I fear I may be mistaken and so  I`m tempted to suggest that maybe the higher echelons of Kent Police should perhaps spend more time supporting their own overworked and over stressed front line troops rather than straying into virtue signalling stunts which simply add to the disconnect from those who pay their salaries.  After all, the whole purpose of the police is surely to maintain law and order for those who pay them to do so and not to play political games in support of those who do not?

Heaven knows what PC George Dixon would make of it all.  "Move along please.  Nothing to see here."

Guy wakes up in Derby in the English midlands.  Gets up, looks out of the window, sees it`s a lovely summer`s day with every prospect of it being the hottest day of the year so far.  Says to himself, "Think I`ll toddle on down to the beach - get some sea air, a laze in the sun, should be no problem."

So he jumps in his car and heads off.  He`s not quite sure where to, but he remembers seeing some inviting images of Bournemouth in the Derby Reporter. It`s only about 200 miles, he thinks, so he bombs down the motorways - M1, M25, M3 - all going well on the A31 across the New Forest until he reaches the outskirts of Bournemouth.  There`s a tailback of traffic, so he waits and waits and after an hour or two crawls into `central` Bournemouth.  

Can`t find a parking place - car parks full, vehicles parked along every road despite yellow lines and dire warnings.  Eventually parks where he shouldn`t but, hey, the lock down`s over so who cares?   Walks down to the beach along with literally hundreds of like minded chumps and finds the beach pretty much packed out.   Eventually finds a spot of sand, sits down amongst a countless throng, lays back and soaks up the sunshine.  

Bit later he `feels the need` so toddles down to the sea, does what he has to do (well, the public conveniences were closed) and shuffles back to grab a bite to eat and a drink.  Chucks the wrapping and the drinks bottle on the sand, has an hour or so more sunbathing and decides it might be time to make tracks for Derby and complete his 400-mile round trip.  (He gets interviewed by the local TV - admits he has come all the way from Derby and is a bit sorry about the rubbish. Really, I saw it on TV last night.)

Now along with thousands of others he has contributed to the 31 tons of rubbish left on the beach for the council to clear up;  he has used the pristine incoming tide as his convenience, he has probably picked up a parking fine which he probably won`t pay; he has been part of a horde of people (very few of whom actually came from Bournemouth) who seem totally ignorant of the fact that the corona virus is still alive and well and still threatening each and every one of us;  and has been part of a large crowd of people who don`t seem to care about the likelihood of contracting or passing the virus on to others.  Well, it`s their right to do what they want isn`t it?  

Three weeks later our friend from Derby wakes up in hospital and wonders what he`s doing there receiving all the care, commitment and expertise the NHS can find.  I hope he represents the minority who seem to have lost whatever bit of sense they had, whilst the more silent majority of us continue to follow the advice, do the social distancing and hope that the antics of that mindless minority do not mean that many more have to suffer an uncertain future.

There may be trouble ahead, I fear.

There`s an awful lot of angst this morning about the fact that a plane towing a message was flown over Manchester City`s Etihad stadium just as the players and officials were having a minute`s silence in memory of those lost to corona virus and taking the knee in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.

The banner towed behind the plane read "WHITE LIVES MATTER BURNLEY." as Burnley were Manchester City`s opponents at last night`s Premier League fixture (which ended in a 5-0 drubbing for Burnley.)   

Burnley Football Club and their captain Ben Mee have been quick to issue statements and apologies at their dismay and anger that the aerial banner bearing  that message appeared over the Manchester stadium.   Here`s the full text of Burnley`s statement:-

"Burnley Football Club strongly condemns the actions of those responsible for the aircraft and offensive banner that flew over The Etihad Stadium on Monday evening.

We wish to make it clear that those responsible are not welcome at Turf Moor.

This, in no way, represents what Burnley Football Club stands for and we will work fully with the authorities to identify those responsible and issue lifetime bans.

The club has a proud record of working with all genders, religions and faiths through its award-winning Community scheme, and stands against racism of any kind.

We are fully behind the Premier League’s Black Lives Matter initiative and, in line with all other Premier League games undertaken since Project Restart, our players and football staff willingly took the knee at kick-off at Manchester City.

We apologise unreservedly to the Premier League, to Manchester City and to all those helping to promote Black Lives Matter."

All very right and proper I`m sure and for my part it will not go unnoticed by my more perceptive readers that I have not only declined to comment but also to ask one of a number of obvious questions that arise from this episode.......

Sorry about the gif, but it does rather sum up my feelings today.  Ever since the lockdown began and the consequential postponement of football matches, I confess that I wasn`t too bothered.  As a life long Saints fan I would happily have settled for the Premier League to have finished then, leaving Southampton in a comfortably numb 14th spot.

I also enjoyed the fact that, on the match days that never happened, I was relieved not to have the stress, the anxiety, the anguish and mental health issues associated with being a Saints fan whenever the team play a game.   It`s a default condition of Saints fans to assume the worst, to expect disappointment, to worry whether the club is going to survive another Premier League season.   And I`ve often wondered where all those emotions come from, what  they are for, what do they represent?  Are they genuine fears for the club?  Are they genuine fears that defeat and/or relegation might reflect badly on the city the football club represents?  Or is it more personal in that one`s own `status` is somehow diminished in the eyes of others?  

Anyway, it was a bit of a worry when the Premier League recommenced its business in the last day or so and the Saints were drawn to play away at Norwich City last evening before an expectant world wide audience from 171 countries.  And, indeed, all those anxieties came back to haunt me once again.  At my age I could do without it but I tell myself I`ll be alright once I grow up.  So, true to form, I timed my dog walk last evening to enable me to avoid having to watch the game on TV - it was a lovely evening, the walkies was fine but all the way round I was wondering what the outcome might be when I got home and heard the result.

I needn`t have worried.   The Saints romped to a convincing 3-0 win and have therefore pretty much ensured their stay in the looking glass world of the Premier League for another season - one more win from the remaining eight matches should see us home and my blood pressure restored to manageable proportions.  The consequence is, of course, having asked myself whether I want to give up on football, the Premier League and Southampton FC in particular, I shrugged my shoulders, said to myself, "Well, alright then" and returned to being  seduced by the uncertainty of it all and the strange loyalty, not to say affection I have for the club that chose me as a supporter back in 1946.

Bit of a ramble today.  I was going to start by saying that today is just another day and in many ways I guess it is.  And as this pandemic crisis continues to unfold I`ve noticed that the days have taken on a different `feel` - for us elderly pensioners still struggling to survive on fixed incomes in unprecedented financial times, the pace of life seems to have lessened a bit.  Maybe that`s just part of getting older, things taking longer to do, but the urgency that there used to be in the good old pre-lockdown days has diminished to a more gentle tempo. 

I`ve noticed too that, when I`m out taking Dudley for his walkies around the parish, people are keeping their distance - the two-metre rule is alive and well hereabouts - and people seem more `courteous,` more `polite` than before.  Either that or they are more determined to give a wide berth to this shambling figure trudging his way through life?

But you get up in the morning, turn on the TV news and it strikes me that the rustic parochial attitudes locally are in sharp contrast to those shown by television `presenters.` Best example was this morning when some hapless government minister was `interviewed` on BBC Breakfast about his hapless government policy by the self righteous Naga Munchetty who seems to have turned interviewing into something more akin to interrogation.  It`s reached the point where you begin to wonder who is in charge these days - the politicians or the media.

Another example was yesterday when it was reported, again on BBC News, that `a quarter of those tested positive for Covid 19 could not have their contacts traced.....`  or something.   Which meant that three quarters could - a 75% success rate.   But no, let`s hear about the bad news shall we?  Let`s accentuate the negative, eliminate the positive and apply Johnny Mercer`s classic lyrics in the way that suits the agenda.  It`s all very tiresome.

In other news, I was genuinely sorry to learn of Dame Vera Lynn`s passing.  I suppose she was one of the first `personalities` I became aware of as I was growing up during the Second World War.  I have vague recollections of hearing her singing on the old steam radio, along with other celebrities during those dark times - Tommy Handley, ITMA, Charlie Chester and Uncle Mac`s early evening programme for children - "Goodnight children - everywhere."  The negative is, of course, that Dame Vera has left us but the positive is that she gave so much to so many for so long.  The song may have ended, but the melody will linger on.

Maybe tomorrow will be a little brighter?

Well, I guess us Bloggists might all suffer from it from time to time.  Most times, though, it`s simply a question of not being able to write much at all.  There`s a useful definition for the condition, which is that it is "primarily associated with writing, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work or experiences a creative shutdown, which is not a result of commitment problems or the lack of writing skills."   Throughout history, writer`s block has been a documented problem and among those who have struggled with the problem are F. Scott Fitzgerald, Joseph Mitchell, the cartoonist Charles M. Schulz, composer Sergei Rachmaninoff  and chanteuse Adele.

So I might be in good company, although I think my problem is nothing to do with having a `creative shutdown,` more a recognition of the fact that, at times, there is just so much going on that deserves comment that it is difficult to know where to begin having a good rant.

As of right now, I was tempted to have a go about the antics of `far right extremists` masquerading as patriots trying to defend statues supposedly representing the long ago days of slavery.   I understand and empathise with the feelings behind the Black Lives Matter movement.  Of course they do - no question - but so do white ones, brown ones, yellow ones and humanity of any shade of hue you care to mention.  I was intrigued by the Premier League decreeing from their ivory tower that, instead of players` names being shown on the back of their shirts once football recommences, each shirt will now say `Black Lives Matter.`  

Could be confusing, especially to listeners of radio commentary.  "And the ball reaches Black Lives Matter out on the left wing - cross comes in - up goes Black Lives Matter, he nods the ball goal-wards but Black Lives Matter is there to shepherd it away for a corner........"

I could go on about the 2-metre rule coming under fire from those who seem to put a higher value on money than staying alive.  I could rant about schools and whether they should all re-open or not, which reminds me of the fact that over 70 years ago I lost a whole year`s education whilst suffering a serious kidney disease but I`m here to tell the tale and never really thought about how `disadvantaged` I might have been.

We seem to be a country which is rife with rampant snowflakery, quick to complain, to demand things, to assume entitlement, to believe that everyone should have, do and even be what they want and when do they want it?  Well, NOW of course.   

And there`s more, not least HM Gov`s handling of the Covid 19 pandemic,  so my writer`s block is really a problem of selection rather than commitment or lack of writing skills (despite losing a year`s schooling.)  It would be good to be able to look forward in 2020 with 2020 vision to what lies ahead rather than looking back through a myopic haze to a past we cannot change even if there are those who may wish to do so.

SPARE A THOUGHT...

Now that the Thursday evening ritual of going outdoors and clapping seems to be drawing to a close, I`m beginning to wonder whether there should be something to take its place.  And given recent and ongoing events following the death of George Floyd, following which there seem to be the formative stages of something of a cultural revolution in the air, I see that `taking the knee` has been adopted as a symbol of support for the BLM movement and all it stands for.   There was a photo of Kent`s Chief Constable, Alan Pughsley, taking the knee at a recent event, so if it`s good enough for him, it should be good enough for me.

Now, I`ve had a pretty active life, engaging in all manner of sporting activity.   For example, I played a lot of cricket as a top/middle order batsman and a useful change bowler, specialising in right-arm unpredictables, all of which enabled me to consistently achieve the village cricket team target of 100 runs and 10 wickets in a season. (They even made me captain the side.)

I played a lot of football as a right footed box-to-box midfield dynamo with a good engine, an eye for a pass and the very occasional goal.  (I scored two goals in a game only once - for my regiment`s team in Germany against some other military outfit when - applying the usual army logic - I found myself as a right footed right sided midfielder playing outside left;  the two goals were both scored with my left foot, which was as surprised as the rest of me but then I was aided by some laughable goalkeeping and a brisk wind that saw the ball veer into the top corner beyond the despairing clutches of the opposing custodian.)

I refereed football matches once my playing days came to an end, even reaching the heights of being an official at the Kent Junior Cup Final at Margate`s Hartsdown Park.  It couldn`t get any better than that so I retired and took up golf, which I have been playing for years with varying degrees of ineptitude, although I once - and only once - managed to get below 90.  I just liked to get out there and hit something really hard and I discovered that if you are good at golf you tend to play in straight lines so you don`t get the same amount of exercise as hackers like me who wander all over the place looking for lost balls.

And over many years we have walked coast paths, forests, hills and dales and we still dog walk every day so still keep active.   Trouble these days is that all this activity has played a bit of havoc with my knees and my movements have become more restricted. So, if `taking the knee` now becomes the new normal on Thursday evenings, I hope Alan Pughsley and everyone else will spare a thought and understand if once again I decline to take part. I promise I`m not being `difficult` but the fact is, of course, that if I do manage to get down on one knee there`s every chance I won`t get up again.

WISHFUL THINKING ?...

I haven`t travelled abroad very much. A school trip to the south of France 65 years ago;  a week in Portugal when one of my sons was working in Lisbon;  18 months in what was BFPO 16 in West Germany during my National Service defending western civilisation from the threat of communist invasion.  That`s about it really - I don`t suppose a couple of weeks in Wales counts, so I haven`t seen that much of the `wider world,` not that it bothers me unduly as I`ve discovered there is so much to see in and enjoy around this sceptred isle.

Now as the corona virus lock-down took hold it was impossible to get to a bookshop, so I began to re-read some from my own eclectic bookshelves.  Some of the books I have collected over the years are really quite old - I like reading about how things were all those years ago and since most of my `travel books` are about this country I have been reading again some about Cornwall back in the 1940s and the history of the Isles of Scilly.

And the books about those islands reminded me of a memorable day we had about 30 years ago when we were staying in a remote area of far west Cornwall and took the helicopter from Penzance to Tresco, the second biggest of the Isles of Scilly.  And what a day to remember it turned out to be.  The helicopter journey afforded spectacular views of the far reaches of the Penwith peninsula - Mousehole, Land`s End and out beyond the coast across the 26 miles of sea before landing on Tresco.

And us being us, we left the other visitors behind and wended our own way to explore quite a lot of the island, past New Grimsby and followed the footpath along the island coast until we came to Cromwell`s Castle, pictured above, which looks out across the narrow channel between Tresco and Bryher.   Throughout our wanderings around the island I was in awe of the quiet tranquility of the place, the white sand beaches, the tiny flower fields hedged with escallonia, the unhurried way of life and the sights and sounds of what must surely be one of the most beautiful of places to be found in the whole of the United Kingdom.

Eventually we made our way back to `downtown` Tresco and enjoyed a visit to the famous Abbey gardens before reluctantly having to get back on the helicopter and return to the mainland.   

But reading my old books about the Isles of Scilly again and, thanks to Talking Pictures TV, once again watching `When the Whales Came,` has produced a bit of a longing to go back there and recapture that feeling of being in a foreign country, even if I`m not.  The same goes for Cornwall too - a country apart with its own language, history and traditions.

Maybe one day....... wishful thinking?

ALL ABOARD...

Like almost everyone else I was horrified by the manner in which George Floyd met his untimely death.  And like almost everyone else I understand and agree with the feelings behind the protests and demonstrations that have emerged in the days since that tragic event occurred.   It is entirely understandable that those demonstrations should be happening not only in Minneapolis but also across America.  And I hope they can have the effect of bringing some change in the way things are - and have been for too long - the other side of the pond.

Yesterday - and probably today also -  there were protests and demonstrations across the UK as well;  in London, Cardiff, Sheffield, Manchester and many more towns and cities a mere 4,000 miles or so from Minneapolis.  And I understand the feelings that lay behind those demonstrations too.  But what was noticeable was the fact that, yet again, so called `celebrities` took the opportunity to associate themselves with the causes behind these events and whilst no doubt some of them might well have been genuine in their support, there were others who took part just to be seen to be taking part.   They cannot be named for legal reasons but they know a bandwagon when they see one, they cannot help themselves but to jump aboard and we all know who they are.

Seems such a shame that the lovies of this world grasp any opportunity going for a bit of free publicity in the misguided belief that the world in general will look upon them with admiring, if not adoring eyes.  All they, along with the mindless minority who seem determined to cause mayhem,  succeed in doing is to diminish the value of the genuinely held beliefs of the majority and bring the game of peaceful  protest into  disrepute.

I`m thinking of encouraging a demonstration against holding demonstrations. I`ll hold up a placard saying "NO DEMONSTRATIONS.` I wonder if Madonna, Meghan and Co. will approve?  And I wonder why we haven`t heard a peep out of Greta........

THE TYRANNY OF CONFORMITY...

Well I`m nor sure whether John Stuart Mill had me in mind when he wrote that but he could well have done.   Let me explain.

Last night was supposed to be the last time when people went out from their houses and applauded for ten minutes in recognition of the `key workers` - especially those in the NHS - who are `working tirelessly` to see us through the current crisis.  It was noticeably quieter when I was out taking Dudley for his evening walkies last night although I suspect there were a few pockets of resistance who had got used to the Thursday evening ritual and couldn`t bring themselves to stop.   Fair enough.  Good for them.

Now let me be clear.   I have the utmost respect for our key workers and, like everyone else, I am seriously grateful for the contribution they all make to help `society` manage and keep going during this pandemic.  But - there`s always a but with me I`m afraid - when the clapping all started all those weeks ago it occurred to me then that it might become something of a futile gesture for the simple reason that the recipients of the applause would not be able to hear it and were too busy at work anyway;   and therefore probably the main reason for the massed clapping was to enable the clappers to feel better about themselves for doing it.   Fair enough.  Good for them.

But I declined as gracefully as I could to take part in it.   I didn`t feel the need to join in for I have always directly expressed my thanks to those to whom I have been grateful for helping me.   For example, over the last couple of years my ageing eyes have had a lot of attention - entropion followed by successive cataract operations, all of which constituted  life changing improvements to my quality of life.  On each occasion I personally thanked the NHS staff for the excellence of the service I had been fortunate to receive.  I didn`t feel the need to venture into other means of expressing my appreciation.

So, during the last few Thursday evenings, I suspect that I may have been looked upon with sceptical eyes as to why I was not taking part.  Some people may have interpreted it as arrogance, ignorance, being curmudgeonly, weird, anti-social or even eccentric.  It was, of course, none of those things - just another example of my penchant for resisting the tyranny of conformity - but if any of those criticisms might have been anywhere close to the truth, I will settle for eccentricity.   I have always fancied being a bit eccentric.  It rather suits me and I think John Stuart Mill got it right when he said what he did. 

It`s now a week since my last post about whether this blog should continue or not and I have been heartened not only by the scale of the response but also the speed in which there has been a reaction.   And what is more pleasing is that that reaction has been almost entirely positive.   I have received a number of `comments` most of which suggest that I carry on but I have been reluctant to publish those comments, for fear of endangering patient confidentiality and to preserve the anonymity of those kind enough to write to me.  

So, after the Electoral Commission have confirmed the final result it looks probable that the blog will continue and I have to admit that rambling away on here has long been the means for me to give an opinion or two on some of the issues of the day and now and again to celebrate those few occasions when there has been something to admire.

However, now that HM Gov. in all its misguided wisdom has declared that it`s safe to partially lift the lock-down I might have the chance to break away from the limitations - albeit therapeutic -of posting photos and perhaps tentatively venture into other areas which I feel might deserve comment.   So,  look out for some more `edgy` stuff which might test the boundaries of social distancing to their limit.  Possibly.

Thank you to all those who were kind enough to respond. I hope you think it will be worth it.

(As an added bonus I have introduced a search facility at the top of the blog.  So if you want to find anything that might appear in these pages, search away.  It works - I`ve tried it.)