March 2009 Archives

'This conversation, if you could call it that yet, wasn't going to end any time soon'

If you get the train in the morning it tends to be filled with business men shouting into one of their two mobile phones about 'blue-sky thinking' and 'pushing the envelope' with a phone to each ear and the briefcase containing their inflated ego under their arm.

But I find that late-morning trains tend to hold a totally different array of people.

Last week, at lunch time, I noticed the train I was supposed to be catching preparing to leave from the station. If I had ran I probably could have just about made it.

But running for the train is never a good idea.

Firstly, when you want to run for a train, or a bus for that matter, you'll find your legs no longer work the way they should and putting one foot in front of the other is suddenly very complicated.

You would like to think that if you needed to run for a train you would be able to run like an Olympic athlete, sprint down to the carriage and hop on while everyone that's on the train already is cheering in fanfare as you just make it on in time.

But, more often than not, as soon as you need to run for the train your Olympic sprint idea goes out of the window and you undertake a sort of constipated shuffle along the platform.

In your mind you think what you're doing is called running - but to those already on the train watching you, you look more like a womble trying to shake off the effects of a tranquilizer dart.

And you tend to get there just as the doors shut and you're left standing on the platform like the closing scene in a bad episode of Eastenders.

So I didn't run for the train when I saw it was about to leave.

Instead, I calmly waited for the next one, just to save on the embarrassment.

I sat in a carriage entirely on my own and, enjoying the peace and quiet, decided to start reading a book.

When the train pulled up at the next station, I looked outside to see who would be getting on.

I saw a woman and her screaming baby on the platform and I prayed she'd go down to the next carriage. There's little worse that having to listen to a baby screaming for the next half an hour.

She and her baby sat in the row next to me.

At the next stop, I looked up from my book to see how many people were going to be getting on and I was met by the faces of around 20 pensioners standing on the platform like a get-together for the cast of Last of the Summer Wine.

But they weren't knitting or tapping their knees to the jingle on the station advert. They were cheering the arrival of the train, for reasons known only to themselves - and being rather loud about it.

I noticed that the door to the next carriage was actually closer to them but they walked a little further and got in to the carriage I was in.

I presumed that it was because this was the one with the toilet in - because when they got closer and sat down, I realised half of them were of the age when they'd be running to the toilet every 5 minutes and half were at the age where they needn't bother running to the toilet at all.

I realised a second later that they were actually German tourists and I started to wonder if SAGA Holidays had put on a package holiday from Berlin to the Bullring.

Two men came and sat down opposite me and a few moments later one of them asked me what I was reading.

I paused.

I had read somewhere that Germany is supposed to be one of the "most talkative nations" and who were likely to dabble in light conversation. Whereas, in the same article I read, it suggested that apart from talking about the weather, over here in Britain, strangers don't converse in public so often.

I'm guessing the most common things you're likely to hear a British stranger say to you are: "Lovely/Horrible weather lately...", "We're just carrying out a quick survey - it'll only take 5 minutes", or "Hand over all your money and you won't get hurt".

So when someone asked me what I was reading, I did a double take and looked around to see if there was anyone else he could possibly be talking to.

I answered him and he then proceeded to ask me if I had ever read any Charles Dickens. I said "Yes" and he then asked me if I know where they can get a crème tea locally.

I started to see where the conversation was going.

I looked up from my book once more and realised that this conversation, if you could call it that yet, wasn't going to end any time soon.

I quickly ran the idea through my mind of telling him: yes, I did know where to find a crème tea, and I was actually about to meet up with Sherlock Holmes and have Winston Churchill drive us around Big Ben in a Routemaster - but I decided against it.

I even, for a small moment, thought about telling him that I hadn't laid eyes on a crème tea for a long time, that no one reads Charles Dickens any more, Kerry Katona's novels are considered high literature, and British cuisine actually consists of Kit Kats, WKD, and a bottle of Gaviscon.

But I simply said "No, sorry," and left it at that.

What was more worrying than being bombarded with questions, was the man who was sitting next to the quizmaster - he actually thought there was nothing wrong with refusing to cover up flatulence in public.

He lay back trying to sleep with his legs stretched out while, every now and again, letting out a stream of loud sporadic flatulent bursts to turn a few heads and make a few eyes bulge in horror.

What's worse is that when my stop came, and I had to leave, I had to wakeup Mr. Flatulence so he could move his legs to let me pass.

And, to my surprise he looked at me as though I had tricked him into eating a coffee-flavoured Revel.

He must have thought that waking someone up, unlike farting the chorus of Amazing Grace on a train, was considered to be antisocial.

Never use public transport.

'It seems that 11 is the new 40'

Last week it was reported that a single mother in Hull gave her child £20 for food before flying to Spain on holiday leaving them home alone and claiming she was fed up with their moaning.

Leaving her 11-year-old, she returned five days later after she "ran out of money" and was questioned by police.

It's quite possible that every mother, at some point in their life, has threatened to go off and leave their child when they're misbehaving - often in the middle of Marks and Spencer's.

They usually say "I'm going now..." about 10 times before quickly moving to a hiding spot behind the Maris Pipers.

There was a time when the child standing alone in the shop would have probably started to blubber at the prospect of being alone and wished they hadn't been so demanding for the bright green sweets.

But today, while the mother is in her hiding place and watching expectantly, the child will probably cheer, hot-wire a car and head off for the highlife in Monte Carlo.

There are some parents out there who fear at the prospect of going in the garden and leaving their children in the house on their own. If they go to do some gardening and pull up a few weeds, they make sure the windows are open, ask the neighbours to listen out for screams, explain to their children where the revolver is and how it can be loaded in less than 3 seconds should any intruders come to the door, and activate the satellite trackers they've got imbedded in their heels.

And yet they still expect to return from pruning the rose bushes to find their offspring on fire or off the coast of Somalia - having being kidnapped by pirates in need of servants.

It seems that 11 is the new 40. Especially from the child's point of view.

People seem to think of their children as newborn giraffes; slimy and unable to stand without assistance. But there was a time when 11-year-olds were highly skilled in mining and pick-pocketing.

Many 11-year-olds can outrun police, disable a car alarm and take on an entire race of aliens on their computers before bedtime.

So they shouldn't have a problem with a microwave and a can opener.

And an 11-year-old can probably be self-sufficient and entertain themselves better than people think.

In fact, why is it everyone is shocked to hear an 11-year-old has been left home alone?

Because people are fine with the idea of leaving a 95-year-old home alone. Vulnerable. Without pepper spray. And only blood pressure tablets to throw at a potential attacker.

At least a child can use the television and record a whole series of Pimp My Ride without looking at the remote control like it's the Holy Grail.

And with today's pension, can a 95-year-old afford heating bills? No.

Of course, a child couldn't either. But at least they can hack into the power company's computer system and zero their bills.

And at least children have got more to occupy themselves. They've got technology as opposed to rich tea biscuits.

Gone are the days when children were given a humbug and an orange and expected to make it last for a week.

Gone are the days, in the late 80s and mid 90s where children, who were off their face on gobstoppers, had robots that fired missiles into Aunt Imelda's eye and dolls called PeePee Polly who actually pooed and weed and cost about the same as a new Land Rover Discovery.

Both of which were broken before the After Eight's came out.

And giving a child a PeePee Polly now would be like giving Pete Doherty a train set.

People like to think their children are going to grow up and be clever and rich and productive. But they're obviously more intent on being a 'teenage dirtbag baby.'

While you, yourself, used to spend your childhood swimming in lashings of Robinson's Barley Water and make model aeroplanes, it doesn't mean today's 11-year-old would enjoy the same.

They probably want a Play Station or an iPod or a missile. Or a webcam so they can watch their fiancée getting ready for bed.

'Taxing as a deterrent is highly flawed'

If you'd happened to be living in a cave until recently, before coming out and reading the news; you'd think that everyone in Britain is spending every evening on the pavement outside a nightclub: head over heels, arse over tit - and, due to an obesity epidemic, are using the friction between their two massive thighs to generate enough electricity to keep Burnham-On-Sea powered for a fortnight.

But it's sparked a drastic action plan to get everyone sober and slim.

There's something a little worrying in the news that the British Medical Association conference has voted against the proposal to tax chocolate by only 2 votes.

2 votes.

If we want an example of a dumbed-down Britain, there's no need to look for Katie and Peter: The Next Chapter on ITV2, look towards the BMA. An organisation made up of supposedly well-educated people who think taxing chocolate to the extent of making it around 5p more expensive, is a good idea.

Where do we start? as Jo Brand's dietician might say. Britain is already taxed on wages, pensions, benefits, saving's interest (what's left of them), dividends, property rental, capital gains, stamp duty, inheritance, goods and services, fuel, alcohol, tobacco and betting.

And the same goes for alcohol. Leading medical advisors are suggesting that no drinks should be sold for a minimum of 50p per unit of alcohol.

If it was the case that making something overpriced would stop people from buying it and making something cheaper would make you buy it, then people wouldn't be coming home with Armani shirts and everyone would come back every weekend with a new sofa from DFS.

Admittedly, Gordon Brown has initially rejected the idea of making alcohol more expensive. But, if we're going to live in an age where busybodies are going to say people can't smoke foxes or drive while eating Class C 80%-proof kebabs, and instead; have a national holiday to celebrate parking attendants, it can only go downhill from here.

Surely, making alcohol more expensive is not going to deter people who really want it from buying it.

Earlier this month, hospitals in Staffordshire have had to remove the alcohol hand gels from wards as people were stealing them and drinking it. Apparently, the alcohol gels - as well as being effective against MRSA and 99.9% of all bacteria - also goes well with orange juice.

There is also set to be an imminent attack on supermarkets for promoting irresponsible drinking. No longer are people drinking in pubs where it can be more easily monitored. It's all coffee shops now.

And since people are willing to pay £57 for a small Espresso - just so they can sit and talk about how often they cut their lawn, how far the seats slide back in their new Toyota, and the decline in garden decking since the 90s- it means increasing the cost of something as a deterrent isn't going to make a difference.

This has sparked a Bring Back the Pubs campaign from bearded gentlemen in waistcoats that enjoy drinking in front of an open fire and playing darts: a 'game' where you stand up and do maths. Fun.

But there's not really space for a pub in today's society. There may have been a time a couple of hundred years ago when they didn't have PlayStations and Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway, and they needed a distraction from diphtheria. People would leave the factories and not bother going home because the toilet was at the end of the garden and their children had rickets.

Off to the pub.

The attack on the cost of chocolate and alcohol isn't going to make any difference. If people aren't in pubs, they've bought a couple of litres of alcohol for 11p and are out on Sainsbury's car park travelling at high speeds in a shopping trolley.

Or they're rambling, sliding in vomit, and a little trickle of alcohol has led them to believe they're about 10 times more interesting than they actually are.

It's these people the busybodies should be interested with. Not the people who drink responsibly. Taxing as a deterrent is highly flawed.

Next, they'll be taxing women for wearing high-heels, people who breathe out too much carbon dioxide, and those who are so skinny they have a tendency to fall down drains.

'Everywhere you look you'll see a guide to defeating the recession'

Even HSBC: The world's local bank (6,000 miles away in a communist country) has had its profits plummet.

It was reported yesterday that along with the car industry, some of the worst affected areas are the television companies and hair dressers. This may be the reason why repeats of Cash in the Attic seem to be dominating the television schedules and why more and more people are walking around with hair like a baby gorilla.

With the recession hitting the television companies it seems the quality of the programming is going to decrease even more.

Future Radio Times entries should look something like this:

8.00pm - The Bill
Tonight's action-packed episode centres on a food fight in a school canteen and a man is arrested for dropping an apple on the floor in broad daylight.

9.00pm - Who Wants To Win £3.87?
Presented by new host Ingrid Tarrant. Contestants answer questions for a chance to win £3.87.

10.00pm - I'm A Celebrity. . . Get Me Out Of Here!
Anneka Rice, Mr. Blobby and the Short One from Casualty compete to be king or queen of the jungle. Live from the urban allotments in Stoke-On Trent. Presented by Ant.

10.30pm - Britain's Best Dish - Celebrity Special
One of the Nolan Sisters microwaves a Pot Noodle. See pick of the day.

11.00pm -Midsomer Murders
DCI Barnaby retires when he realises he's the only one left alive in Midsomer. He discovers that the rest have either been murdered or have moved to Eastern Europe in search of work. Last in the series.

01.00am - CSI: Digbeth
Remake of the American crime drama. The team discover an aluminium can has been placed in a paper-recycling box and pursue the culprit.

It's even been suggested that the recession isn't necessarily affecting the low-income families.

Those who have spent their life ensuring they only eat sweets that come lightly-dusted in a round tin, that have conditioned themselves to refer to a game of croquet as being 'absolutely marvellous', and have experimented with off-white emulsions, are said to be the ones who will suffer due the worthlessness of their savings.

Everywhere you look you'll see a guide to defeating the recession.

Going out and collecting wild berries, making a doormat out of wooden clothes pegs, and knitting a microwave and fan-assisted oven.

Last week, £150billion of extra money was printed.

Quantitative easing, they call it, as if it's something new - forgetting it's what Mugabe has been doing for years.

When the British government are taking financial advice from an authoritarian tyrant, you know there's a problem.

When this financial situation first started, some people said it's just what the country needs - something to unite everyone and make people concentrate on the things that matter.

At best, it's united everyone against people. It's the bankers' faults. It's the MPs' faults. It's America's fault. And if you read the Daily Mail, it's Global Warming's fault.

And a common question has been about the salary of MP's.

An MP gets £63,291 per year, excluding expenses.

But this will actually improve the economy because the money they spend on alcohol, prostitutes, and nude women gyrating to Britney Spears' Womanizer, will mean the money soon filters back into the community.

But for all the blaming, job hunting, and eating leftovers, we'll still end up having to walk 30 miles to collect wood, before walking 30 miles to get back and burn it to power the television so we can watch the final of Dancing on Thin Ice - in which tonight's episode Rick Wallar battles it out with Gillian McKeith for the title of 2009 champion. Repeated tomorrow. And the day after.

'The increased sales in science magazines are making OK! Magazine look like Laminate Floor Monthly'

The ability to use stem cells to treat diseases without using embryos is a 'step closer', with a British and Canadian team having manipulated human skin cells to act like embryonic stem cells.

The news managed to make most newspapers. The Daily Mail ran with "Breakthrough by British Scientists" (they'll put "and Canadian" somewhere really small), The Times had "Stem Cell Breakthrough Could Solve Ethical Dilemmas", and the Isle of White Herald went with "Sheep Disappearance due to Alien Invasion".

In a time when running off with someone's mobile phone will put you in prison, but running off with someone's pension will put you in a 5-star resort in the Maldives, it's nice to know that there is actually some real work being done and not just releasing the usual bananas-make-your-eyes-fall-out statements.

The fact that it now means embryos will not have to be used, should make the whole situation regarding ethics a little easier and scientists can now begin to look at new ways of curing some diseases.

America has recently put $50billion (that's currently about £1.99) into stem cell research, but the ethics-in-science debate still pops up every now and again.

Last week, in India, home embryo freezers were made available for those who could afford them. Supposedly in case any couples who are undergoing IVF want to be closer to their frozen embryos.

Although a little strange, some people have said it's a good idea. The only problem being that if there's a power cut you'd have to run halfway across town with your embryos pressed between a bag of peas and McCain oven chips.

Best before Jan 2016.

Some people are still against IVF, saying that it's not religiously moral. I'm not well-read in the Bible but I'm sure it doesn't have one of the commandments listed as 'Thou shalt not place thy products in liquid nitrogen and nor shalt they be cryogenically frozen until a husband/wife has been found on DatingDirect.com.'

The same goes for organ donation. Many people still don't want to sign up in case they're 'left to die' so their organs can go to someone in the next bed. It would probably be ok if they let you make a list of who you don't want your organs to go to in the unlikely event of your death.

Then again, the chances of Peter Mandelson requiring one of your kidneys are remote.

It was suggested, last month, that many people are quitting their jobs as scientists and retraining in other professions because they feel hassled by all of the ethical issues facing their work.

What would you rather do? Sit around Brindley Place drinking skinny lattes with Richard and Judy or spend your days arguing with protesters and genetically engineering bacteria to be fluent in Cantonese?

Despite this, the interest in popular science has increased recently. With being able to isolate the gene that causes a jellyfish to be fluorescent, and inserting it into mice, people are interested by the weird science.

The increased sales in science magazines are making OK! Magazine look like Laminate Floor Monthly.

Show people pictures of anti-gravity chambers and flying cars and they're suddenly interested in science. None of that boring atom business they did when they were at school. They want to see rockets and jetpacks, not periodic tables.

Saying that, everyone takes some interest in the boring parts of science when it's beneficial to them.

They know it's a scientific fact that, when eating, you'll not absorb any fat from the food you take from someone else's plate.

And they see the importance of molecular structures.

For example, they know that two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom make up the most important molecule: water. And they wouldn't be able to live without it, being as it's a major constituent of beer.

Contact the Author