Here is a ridiculous story from the BBC News website that wound me up enough to take to my keyboard. Please read it and make your own mind up whether the Crown Prosecution Service needs a rebuke on wasting public money.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-25945052

The prosecution of three homeless blokes for removing £33 worth of discarded food from waste bins behind the Iceland store in Kentish Town just beggars belief.  

I can’t begin to comprehend what is in the public interest in charging these vagrants and the action doesn’t even appear to be supported by the retailer whose waste was being, very effectively, recycled (eaten in this case).

Given that the nofixedaboders were charged in October, I presume they have been in police custody ever since – I don’t suppose bail was a realistic option! Now I may be clutching at straws but the only positive aspect to this whole fiasco that I can see is that Paul, William and Jason have been well homed and well fed at her majesty’s pleasure for a few months. And if they go to jail, the public purse will be funding their ongoing housing and dietary requirements. Would that be rough justice or a weird kind of karma?

Doubtless there are some unreported aspects to this case, who knows, maybe the chaps were running some kind of elaborate scam. Maybe they littered the street with discarded food packaging in their fervent desire to eat - without taking into account the sensibilities of the local residents. Perhaps, and much more likely, the attending officers were addressed as plebs by the ‘offenders’; maybe the fellas were more verbally, or even physically, abusive. I have to admit that if I was reduced to rummaging through bins to find something to eat; I’d be inclined to tell an arresting officer to xucx off!

The haul of booty apparently included Mr Kipling cakes; now I appreciate that they are exceedingly good but I’d have to draw the line at them being worth a criminal record.   

Blog Home
Blog Library
Home

On Monday night my journey home from work was a bit of nightmare; I got caught up in the tail of an accident on the A5 northbound just before the Stony Stratford roundabout. The incident involved five cars and by the time the RDS traffic warning announcement kicked in, rather frustratingly I was already in the queue.

Now traffic jams usually wind me up and particularly when I am trying to get into the office or get to a meeting. That night I was supposed to be going out to meet a friend at 8pm; realisation was quick to dawn that there was a high probability I’d be late.

Despite my inclination towards anger, I managed to stay calm and keep my mind occupied during the wait for the road to be reopened.  I had some coping strategies, which I will share in a moment. To be fair, I also appreciated that however stressed I was feeling, there were a number of individuals further up the road having a far worse evening.

Movement on the dual carriageway had been reduced to occasional forward lunges and even those eventually petered out into a complete standstill.  A little after 6pm it was dark and cold, in fact about two degrees above freezing; the fumes from the exhausts were like clouds swirling around the vehicles, the fug softly illuminated by the brake lights. I couldn’t decide if the scene was pretty, grimy post-industrial or eerie (think James Herbert’s ‘Fog’).

Watching the smoke show made me reflect that I didn’t want the fumes being sucked into my car by the heating system. Initially I turned the fans off and then began to get cold; next the fans got turned back on again and the air recirculation engaged.  Of course this meant more fuel being consumed and more power being drained from the battery.  

The yoyo of indecision was resolved when stationary conditions took a firm grip. I didn’t want to keep the engine running for an indeterminate time because that would waste fuel and there’s only so much of that oil based fluid I can afford each month without having to consider prostitution or bar work to supplement my income. I didn’t want to keep all the electrical ancillaries running without the engine on because that would drain Zafira’s battery and that would render her helpless.

So parked on the extreme right fringes of the A5 – to allow the emergency vehicles to run unimpeded down the centre of the carriageway – I switched off the engine, the lights, and the stereo; and darkness descended.

The options at this point were sleep (impractical) or utter boredom (unsatisfactory). Once some calls had been made to advise interested parties of my arrest; rescue from tedium came in the form of a book and a windup torch both of which were secreted in my vehicle for just this eventuality.

The book, Terry Pratchett’s “Raising Steam” guaranteed that some pleasure was gained whilst time moved on. In terms of the external conditions, the swirling exhaust fumes looked quite a lot like steam so they actually served to augment the reading experience, which was good (whilst gently poisoning me, which was not so good).

The windup torch (acquired during a visit to How Stean Gorge); what a great solution to a practical challenge! Seriously, I recommend that you buy one for your glove box!

A number of torch lit chapters on, the emergency crews and assorted cleaner-uppers had cleared up the casualties and the vehicular debris and reopened the road. The vehicles around me roared back into life, the fairy light like chain of car lamps re-illuminated and forwards progress resumed.

Unfortunately not for all the vehicles that had been jammed. One or two remained stationary as the traffic weaved its way around them.  What had happened to these poor souls is the subject of conjecture but my guesses are empty fuel tanks, diminished batteries, overheating engines or perhaps snoozing at the wheel.     

Having left the office in Milton Keynes centre at 5:45pm, I finally made it back to Daventry at 8:25pm. In the two years I have been managing this commute; that is by far the longest time the trip has ever taken. I got home said ‘hi’ to the wife and kids, got out of my suit, scoffed my dinner and then made it around to Jez’s abode by 9pm – one hour late but not that bad in the circumstances.

To wrap up, here are some reflections on my latest blog prompting experience:

Banging heavy metal or punk music is not good for calmness in frustrating circumstances. My usual musical preferences were temporarily suspended and instead of ‘Five Knuckle’ I found comfort in the soothing tones of Annie Lennox and her album “Songs of Mass Destruction”, perhaps oddly appropriate in the circumstances. Whilst there was some mass destruction up ahead, to be honest for me the album could have been entitled “Songs of Mass Distraction” because she helped me find calm (at least whilst the ignition was still engaged).

I mentioned the band Five Knuckle in the last paragraph – slightly bizarre that the prang that prompted the long delay involved five cars on the A5! Perhaps evidence of Douglas Adam’s interconnectedness of all things!

Did you ever see the “One foot in the Grave” episode that was entirely filmed in the back of a car supposedly in a bank holiday motorway traffic jam? I thought that programme was cleverly made and surprisingly funny. I found myself thinking about Victor and his catch phrase “I don’t believe it” throughout my detention. There can be humour found in any situation – fortunately for me, Sir Terry was on hand to provide that.

I am pleased that I happened to have a pee before leaving the office because at least I didn’t have the need to relieve my bladder as well as my boredom - getting my todger out at the side of the road would have been embarrassing!

Finally, I was prepared with book and torch but maybe my glove box also needs to have an empty bottle wedged into it to cater for the urinary kind of eventuality.

Blog Home
Blog Library
Home

According to Chris Evans, well to be more accurate, the research presented on his Radio 2 breakfast show this morning; this weekend will be the point that most people who made New Year’s resolutions will break them.

The inference that most people’s willpower has the duration of little more than a fortnight, or that the promises you make yourself are just nonsense, bothered me a little. Are we all weak-willed? Do we make ourselves these promises to make us feel better whilst we get used to the new, undoubtedly heavier, post 2013 versions of ourselves? Is alcohol just too important to sacrifice even for a month? 

I find myself thinking that the subject would be good to debate – perhaps with a friend or two in the boozer and over a pint of decent ale (although if one had given up alcohol for January, there could be a problem with that).  Maybe instead coffee and cake in a Costa somewhere (although maybe not the cake).   

So far this year I have been resolute about losing the extra pounds gained in weight over Christmas; in fact since 6th January my efforts have been rewarded and some good progress has been made.  In truth, only this morning I was able to congratulate myself on making the first important weight loss related milestone.

I am far from abandoning my resolution to shed the weight but nonetheless this weekend will see me break my vow of enforced calorie reduction. Temptation will come in the shape of my Dad’s birthday and my wedding anniversary both of which are being celebrated with the wider Baldwin family. Unfortunately beer, curry and cake are not on my diet plan. So it is inevitable that having reached a weight milestone, I will be reversing, or perhaps at best halting some of the positive progress.

My questions to myself are these – is there really any blue water between a planned climbing down from the diet wagon to ‘stretch one’s legs’ or a ‘falling off’?  Does an absolute commitment to getting back on the wagon on Monday still constitute the same New Year’s resolution or am I making a new one that starts on the 20th January? Is my willpower therefore as weak as the populace at large i.e. am I technically failing on the same weekend? I hope not.

It’s a shame that this cerebral introspection doesn’t consume more calories because then I could be offsetting the weekend even as I type.

When celebrating then; I will try to find a balance that sees me avoid wholesale gluttony whilst not looking and sounding like some kind of diet fixated party pooper. Wish me luck!

Finally, why does the word diet have to start with ‘die’?

Maybe there’s another blog post wrapped up in that subject. Watch this space!

Blog Home
Blog Library
Home 

I was genuinely surprised and hugely impressed by a nice occurrence over the festive period. My six year old daughter received a letter from the Queen’s Lady in Waiting – Susan Hussey (my daughter’s middle name just happens to be Susan too).

The letter, an image of which is attached, landed on our doormat on 27th December and thrilled my daughter so much that she has shown it to everyone that has visited our house; she has taken it to school too.

The letter, on Buckingham Palace stationery, came in response to a Christmas message that my daughter wrote to the Queen.

Earlier in December she was absolutely determined to send the Queen a message; so with paper and felt tips she subsequently created her own card and wrote her own message. She then relentlessly badgered me (and Mrs Baldwin for that matter) to find an address, put a stamp on the envelope and post the card. I’ll admit that I was amused by her persistence but was willing to indulge her. To be honest I also posted her card to Santa Claus even though the price of that stamp was obviously wasted!

To be frank, I never expected any kind of response because let’s face it, the Queen’s Christmas mail bag must be huge and she can hardly be expected to respond to every inbound greeting.

On the 27th, my amazement at picking up the envelope was as complete as my daughter’s excitement when I handed it to her.

The fact that the letter was written at all is great; the fact that Susan went to the effort of hand writing the salutation and hand signing the piece is just brilliant. I was so impressed that the palace sanctioned a response – it’s only a little thing, it didn’t take very long but its impact was well worth the investment.   My daughter was as excited at getting the letter as she was with any Christmas present she received. I was delighted to see her so happy and felt compelled to share the experience.

A monarchy that is prepared to engage with its six year old subjects is a very fine one if you ask me.

Blog Home
Blog Library
Home

Happy New Year!

Thanks for visting – I hope that you have a positive and prosperous New Year.

2014 has started and with the New Year I find myself contemplating what lies ahead. I’ll admit that I usually find this time of year a little depressing;

• After all the build-up and excitement, Christmas is over and all the cheerful decorations need to be packed away
• The return to work is imminent (and payday is a long way off so January is always a tougher month than usual)
• Each year I am about to get another year older and on a day that inevitably coincides with my first day back in the office (tomorrow's my birthday and I’ll be 43, which is not a nice number. I do have the day off though).
• To be blunt, I am inevitably fatter than I am comfortable with so a diet is imminent (and this year is no exception)
• Finally the weather is usually horrible (which is definitely the case today)

As much as I find January depressing and as much as I don’t like getting older, this year I am not going to feel sorry for myself. Hearing about Michael Schumacher’s plight has just made me worry about him and reflect upon how lucky I am.

Michael Schumacher is a living legend in my opinion and it would be awful to see him wiped out as a result of his skiing accident. His son who was there at the time must be suffering terribly and my heart goes out to him and the rest of the Schumacher family.

It’s tragic for Michael’s family that after an F1 racing career so full of risk was over (and that his wife and kids could finally stop worrying about him); he should end up so badly injured on a low speed skiing incident. Michael’s son isn’t much older than my own and it is heart-breaking to think of him, his sister and his mum spending their New Year worrying that Michael might die. Having a famous father/husband doesn’t make that kind of grief any easier to handle.  

Hearing the news that Schumacher was critical was shocking; I remember feeling equally upset when Richard Hammond had his high speed crash. Hammond proved that recovery from a brain/head injury could be achieved and I hope that Schumacher, like Hammond, makes a full recovery.

The news so far has been relatively positive, Schumacher is at least stable. Fingers crossed that everything works out okay in the end.

Michael’s birthday is the 3rd January (just one day after mine) and all I want for my birthday, which is now just hours away, is for him to get to his 45th with the prospect of a full recovery.

Blog Home
Blog Library
Home