Happy Birthday Jack the Lad

It's my grandson Jack's 3rd birthday. So it's a very Happy Birthday to the wee scamp.

I thought about putting a photo of the wee fella on this post but thought better of it. It's a sad reflection of the world we live in today that there are unscrupulous people out there who wouldn't think twice about using photographs of children - even those as young as Jack - for immoral purposes. Sickening but, sadly, a reality. So, instead, there's a photo of Zippy from the children's television programme Rainbow from the 1970s/80s.

Rainbow was a favourite of Jack's mum, Laura, twenty years ago. I was having a rummage in the loft a few weeks back and came across an old VHS tape of the show. I dusted it down and now Jack's hooked, just like his mum two decades ago. His granny has even baked him a birthday cake which is meant to look like Zippy but actually looks more like Al Jolson...

Jack has brought so much happiness into our lives and is the apple of his Papa's eye. I may be toiling with Man Flu (see previous post) but I'll struggle out of my sick bed to go round and see the little tike later.

And, no doubt, infect the rest of the family.

Man Flu

Now I'm not one to complain.

But it's Friday night, the start of a long weekend with no work on Monday due to a public holiday. Whoopee. But instead of propping the bar of one of Edinburgh's finest hostelries celebrating the prospect of three days away from the perpetual struggle that is work, I'm lying in bed - fighting what will be a losing battle against the onset of that most serious of illnesses.

Man Flu.

My throat became dry around lunchtime, painful late afternoon and now, early evening, it's absolute agony. I feel like I've swallowed a broken bottle. My head aches, my nose is beginning to stream akin to a current on the River Forth and my body is aching, like it's been twelve rounds with Joe Calzaghe.

So, I'm propped up in bed, all on my ownsome, with a mansize box of Kleenex tissues for a mansize illness. As any man will tell you, women just don't know how lucky they are. When the fairer sex get a sniffle it's as if the world is ending. But we males get the much more serous Man Flu and get little sympathy.

I only hope I am able to struggle out of bed on Saturday for my grandson Jack's third birthday party. Daughter Laura will have a houseful of screaming little brats as Jack's friends head for platefuls of crisps, chocolate, sausage rolls and juice.

I can't wait to join the little blighters and wouldn't want to have any excuse not to go.

Now, where's the Lemsip....?

Zimbawbe

It's now over a month since the elections took place in Zimbawbe.In the aftermath of the March 29, 2008 elections, Zimbabwe's future seems uncertain. Although opposition parties captured a majority in the lower house of Parliament, the ruling ZANU-PF party has demanded a recount in two dozen races that could tip the balance back in its favour.

The results of the presidential race have not been released; the opposition has claimed victory with enough of a majority to avoid a runoff, but ZANU-PF has denied the claim. The election itself was relatively peaceful, though there was not a level playing field due to allegations of voter roll manipulation, the placing of polling stations to depress the opposition vote, and the use of food assistance to persuade citizens to vote for ZANU-PF.

Since March 29, the youth militias have committed numerous beatings against people suspected of votong for the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). Over one hundred people have required hospitalization and several thousand have been displaced from their homes. The government maintains a monopoly on the television and radio media, and its denial of accreditation to independent domestic and foreign journalists means that Zimbabweans lack access to information from alternative views.

Amnesty International's priority human rights concerns in Zimbabwe are the lack of an independent judiciary, a concern for the protection of human rights defenders, and to ensure that all Zimbabweans have security of tenure for land on which they live.

Taken from Amnesty International's Website

Worst Group (again)

I think I've figured it out. Worst Bus in Edinburgh have clearly identified the number 86 service between the capital city and Dalkeith as losing money hand over fist. This will be why this morning, when I left the house to get the 7.40 bus to the city centre there was a large queue of disgruntled passengers at the bus stop. At 7.45 a bus arrived. Unfortunately this was the 7.33 express service - although I use the term loosely - which only stops at certain points. The 7.40 was not far behind, presumably once the driver had finished the crossword in the Metro newspaper.

But I can see Worst Bus' ploy. With buses either alarmingly late or just not turning up at all, with drivers who know Krakow well but are clueless when it comes to darkest Dalkeith, and with a timetable that may well be on the shortlist for this year's Booker Prize for best piece of fiction, Worst will feel if they can drive enough passengers on to Lothian Buses they can withdraw the number 86 altogether.

And they can use the money saved on not providing buses for some other persecuted part of the Lothians...

Don't Make the Mistakes of the Past

A new programme of council house building was officially unveiled by the Deputy First Minister in what could, for some, be the West Lothian answer to the mortgage crisis.
Nicola Sturgeon confirmed the £25m-plus plan, revealed in The Herald last Saturday, in Livingston, which she said would "kick start a new generation of council house building".
The SNP-led West Lothian Council, the first to embark on such a move, will initially spend £7.5m building 240 council houses for rent, with more to follow.

From The Herald, 26 April 2008

Good news for the thousands of people who can't afford the often financially crippling cost of a mortgage - and another sign that a nationalist government is in touch with needs of the people in Scotland. It's a quarter of a century since The Hatcher's Conservative government launched the 'right to buy' scheme for council house tenants. The fall-out of which has led to a desperate shortage of affordable housing in Scotland. Now there is at least hope for Scots who struggle to make ends meet. But it is hoped that lessons are learned from the past.

The creation of many housing schemes in the 1950s/1960s were ill-thought and, in retrospect, flawed. Not enough thought was put in to the effect 'concrete jungles' would have on society. Tower blocks and shabbily built houses became the breeding ground for anti-social behaviour and serious crime and when The Hatcher's anti-Scottish policies put thousands of Scots out of work, there emerged a potent mixture for social depravity.

One would hope the Scottish Nationalists will have devised a way of avoiding the mistakes of the past. There's no sense in building hundreds of houses and having them all in the same location. Surely it would be better to scatter the new council houses among a wide mix of areas so that the lower paid workers have the same amenities as better paid people and have the chance to improve their lives. 240 council houses in the same area will surely only widen the haves and have nots in society and and increase bitter social divisions.

There is still a class divide in this country and the radical ideal of social integration needs a helping hand. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, my granny used to say, God rest her soul. An adage the Scottish government would be well advised to heed with regard to this announcement.

For in years to come no one wants more broken shells.

We'll Never See His Like Again

Like most devotees of BBC Radio Four's 'I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue', yesterday was the day we were dreading. Presenter, broadcasting and jazz legend Humphrey Lyttelton died on Friday after he had been admitted to hospital last week for surgery to repair an aortic aneurysm. Humph was 86 and at that age you realise people can't go on for ever - but in Humph's case we all hoped he would.

The host of quite simply the funniest show on radio - and has been since 1972 - is an icon. The BBC's Mark Thomson said Humph's gifts were his warmth and conviviality, his wit, his mischievousness. All traits lapped up by an adoring and loyal audience. His monologues at the beginning of each show were legendary.

"I still remember Nanny pulling down my trousers and giving me a good spanking. Never did me any harm. Although it did make me late this evening." That was typical Humph.

His fellow ISIHAC regulars - Barry Cryer, Graeme Garden and Tim Brooke Taylor - will be devasted at the news of his passing. The ISIHAC team - not that Humph would call them that - was in the middle of touring the country with the stage version. The show was in Edinburgh last month but as I didn't know about it until the last minute I couldn't go - all the tickets had long been sold in any case.

I read in the BBC's obituary that Humph once turned down the offer of a knighthood. My already considerable admiration for the man increased even more when I read that.

Humph will be looking down wondering what all the fuss is about. With a wry smile he'll no doubt be contemplating that 'Samantha' will be looking forward to getting her hands on a stiff...

We will never see his like again.

Ironing Maid Simple

This is a fantastic service for anyone with a 'pressing' engagement.

Ironing is one of these tedious chores which has to be done. I usually have Sunday as my ironing day - and that's not always because I'm too drunk to do it on a Saturday. But for anyone in Edinburgh and the Lothians who finds it a real hassle, let Ironing Maid Simple - do you see what they did there? - take the strain.

Click on the link below.

http://www.ironingmaidsimple.co.uk/30620/info.php?p=1&pno=0