Either I am bored or I have a real bout of verbal squits today. I seem to just write, either emails or blogs and the flow has yet to be staunched.
Ok back to 1971 and the transition from Alton to the Island. Oddly I have no recollection of that summer except that I moved into Princes street, where i was to share a small terraced house with John initially, and later Keith was to join us. It was good to have a little more space and it wasn't far from the school, so I had no need for a car. Just as well really as I had, despite DI's best efforts, so far failed to pass a driving test.
The neighbours were elderly folk who really were not quite prepared for what they were about to receive. However they were very kind and helpful, and saw us as boys of their own. Apart from being a clean and tidy place, we were both quite domesticated, the house was ideal for parties, and Princes street parties became legendary... tbc
Thursday, 31 January 2008
meetings
I should be in a meeting right now. It is at the community club, literally within spitting distance along the road. I am hiding and refusing to attend. When I left work, I decided that never again would i mark students work, and never again would i attend pointless, bureaucratic meetings.
I really hate any meeting that involves more than 4 people. I choose four as a fairly arbitrary number, but fundamentally, as each person has an opinion, to which they are entitled, but the trouble is, that they all want to express it! I have been in meetings with twelve people with at least 15 opinions and discussions become meaningless, pointless and so fricking frustrating. All that ever came out of such gatherings was more work, and copious minutes that no-one ever read.
The most productive meetings involve the least people. I find that discussions with myself yield amazing results.
Oh well, by now it should be over, so i think I will wander round and find out what they have decided they want me to do.
I really hate any meeting that involves more than 4 people. I choose four as a fairly arbitrary number, but fundamentally, as each person has an opinion, to which they are entitled, but the trouble is, that they all want to express it! I have been in meetings with twelve people with at least 15 opinions and discussions become meaningless, pointless and so fricking frustrating. All that ever came out of such gatherings was more work, and copious minutes that no-one ever read.
The most productive meetings involve the least people. I find that discussions with myself yield amazing results.
Oh well, by now it should be over, so i think I will wander round and find out what they have decided they want me to do.
Yuk
I am drinking a cup of coffee after having been to a friend's house, to disconnect his washing machine. He is moving tomorrow and as he is partially sighted, he couldn't see the washing machine let alone the plumbing. I feel a bit guilty for writing this but it won't stop me. Once i begin, I just can't seem to stop myself.
I had to come home quickly and wash my hands, I felt like i should have a hot bath, but as we don't have one, i couldn't. His house is, to say the least, filthy. While finding the electrical socket, i discovered that the kitchen cupboards are infested with mice, and the only reason I can imagine why there were not more of them is that half of the space is wet, and the rest, just unimaginably filthy. The carpet in the kitchen is probably designated as an area of Special Scientific Interest and i'd guess may have the makings of a wildlife sanctuary. It seems capable of independent movement and like pub carpets in days of old, it sticks to the feet.
The house smells so bad, I feel like retching every time I go in, and cannot wait to escape. It was not always thus, and it seems that as his sight has deteriorated, he has completely let go and abdicated any sort of responsibility for the care and attention of both the house and himself. It is so sad, and as i write this i feel guilty that I cannot do anything to help him. I know in my heart of hearts, that the now pristine house that he is moving into tomorrow will gradually go the same way, and I don't envy the lady who is letting the house. Equally i don't envy his ex wife who is later on this week, moving into the squalour that he will be leaving behind. I think the kindest thing would be to set fire to the place - it would certainly improve the smell.
I had to come home quickly and wash my hands, I felt like i should have a hot bath, but as we don't have one, i couldn't. His house is, to say the least, filthy. While finding the electrical socket, i discovered that the kitchen cupboards are infested with mice, and the only reason I can imagine why there were not more of them is that half of the space is wet, and the rest, just unimaginably filthy. The carpet in the kitchen is probably designated as an area of Special Scientific Interest and i'd guess may have the makings of a wildlife sanctuary. It seems capable of independent movement and like pub carpets in days of old, it sticks to the feet.
The house smells so bad, I feel like retching every time I go in, and cannot wait to escape. It was not always thus, and it seems that as his sight has deteriorated, he has completely let go and abdicated any sort of responsibility for the care and attention of both the house and himself. It is so sad, and as i write this i feel guilty that I cannot do anything to help him. I know in my heart of hearts, that the now pristine house that he is moving into tomorrow will gradually go the same way, and I don't envy the lady who is letting the house. Equally i don't envy his ex wife who is later on this week, moving into the squalour that he will be leaving behind. I think the kindest thing would be to set fire to the place - it would certainly improve the smell.
Monday, 28 January 2008
I have been trying to marshall some memories of that first year of teaching. I recall some of the faces of students and staff but few of the names. I remember my bedsit quite well. I was on the top floor and remember that when it rained, a large water filled blister used to appear on the ceiling. I remember that the kitchen was on a turn in the stairs and had to be shared with two other residents, but they rarely cooked. I remember that the bathroom was two flights down and that there were a couple who always went in there together.
I remember an incident when i was on playground duty. The building plan was quite complex and it was impossible to be or see everywhere. One day I became aware of a lot of kids running in the same direction. Oddly towards me! It became clear that they were running away from something or someone. I continued against the stream and before long came face to face with the cause!
The resident loony was after them, only this time, someone had gone too far. He had a piece of wood with a nail through it, and wanted very much to maim someone. Now some people would have reacted to this, but I didn't. Somehow everything seemed to slow down and I just stood in his pathway, holding my thin plastic cup of tea. He stopped, and when i asked him for the weapon, he obliged and simply walked away. I think it is what I expected him to do, but I could also have been very lucky.
Another outstanding incident was the day that there was a delivery of metal rods for the metalwork shop. My experienced colleague decided that he'd use this as an opportunity for some real maths. He got his group of lads to check the delivery against the invoice. So armed with measuring tapes the lads set to. When they were done, they excitedly told the teacher that they were short. There was a good metre missing. So he told the lads to take each of the rods in turn, to pull and stretch them and then to measure again. So these burly misfits were seen to take hold of these 1/4 inch steel rods and one on each end, give each one a hard pull.
This took them a good half hour and when they had finished, they remeasured, and of course this time their measurements agreed with the invoice. To this day those lads probably believe that they stretched that metal.
While i was there, i took a job as a Census Enumerator and that involved the issuing of census forms and their collection and checking. Never before had i realised the degree of inbreeding or the levels of illiteracy in the population. Such an eye opener.
I did enjoy my time at the school, but after a while the bedsit became intolerable, and as i could afford nothing else there, i decided it would be best to move on, so when a job came up on the Island, I took it and really I guess that was a big turning point in my life.
I remember an incident when i was on playground duty. The building plan was quite complex and it was impossible to be or see everywhere. One day I became aware of a lot of kids running in the same direction. Oddly towards me! It became clear that they were running away from something or someone. I continued against the stream and before long came face to face with the cause!
The resident loony was after them, only this time, someone had gone too far. He had a piece of wood with a nail through it, and wanted very much to maim someone. Now some people would have reacted to this, but I didn't. Somehow everything seemed to slow down and I just stood in his pathway, holding my thin plastic cup of tea. He stopped, and when i asked him for the weapon, he obliged and simply walked away. I think it is what I expected him to do, but I could also have been very lucky.
Another outstanding incident was the day that there was a delivery of metal rods for the metalwork shop. My experienced colleague decided that he'd use this as an opportunity for some real maths. He got his group of lads to check the delivery against the invoice. So armed with measuring tapes the lads set to. When they were done, they excitedly told the teacher that they were short. There was a good metre missing. So he told the lads to take each of the rods in turn, to pull and stretch them and then to measure again. So these burly misfits were seen to take hold of these 1/4 inch steel rods and one on each end, give each one a hard pull.
This took them a good half hour and when they had finished, they remeasured, and of course this time their measurements agreed with the invoice. To this day those lads probably believe that they stretched that metal.
While i was there, i took a job as a Census Enumerator and that involved the issuing of census forms and their collection and checking. Never before had i realised the degree of inbreeding or the levels of illiteracy in the population. Such an eye opener.
I did enjoy my time at the school, but after a while the bedsit became intolerable, and as i could afford nothing else there, i decided it would be best to move on, so when a job came up on the Island, I took it and really I guess that was a big turning point in my life.
Wednesday, 23 January 2008
vegetables
I am an atheist. I do try however, not to belittle or disrespect others for their religious beliefs, and would certainly never feel the need to go door to door trying to convince others that my viewpoint is the right one. I feel no need to check in with an imaginary friend before I do anything and certainly have no wish to seek out other atheists and have meetings in expensive buildings, in order to feel that I am living my life in the way that I should.
Vegetarianism seems to me to be a form of religion too. Have you noticed that, whenever a vegetarian comes to dinner, you have to provide a special vegetarian meal for them? What happens when you get invited back? Do they provide a non vegetarian dish for you? Like hell they do! Eating with vegetarians is like partaking in the last supper, and though I have nothing against vegetables, I have met many in my time, having some sort of choice is always nice, and having someone else's philosophy stuffed down my throat does not appeal much.
Some vegetarians are so self righteous, and have all sorts of reasons not to consume meat. I have yet to find one who does not wear leather shoes though.
Ok i can see the ecological point of eating vegetables. It takes a lot less land to provide vegetables than it does meat, and of course mass production of animals has become a very unsavoury business, with veal crates, battery hens, pigs that never see daylight and so on, not to mention the methane that cattle produce, adding to the greenhouse effect, but at the same time, where would we be without those animals. If we didn't eat them, they would not be there. Not many people want cows as pets, and fewer still a bull. The world would change significantly and there would be no need to keep green fields anymore. They would soon fill up with council estates, providing cheap homes for the fast breeding population and with all the pulses that they'd have to eat, farting would become an olympic event. We'd all be eating sawdust and tofu sausages with quorn based bacon. (That stuff is so revolting!)
Now i am sure that there are plenty of people out there who are closet vegetarians, and who do not conform to my own personal stereotype. I wish them well and would never try to feed them meat. Now i have written this, I don't suppose that they will be offering me vegetables either. At least I hope not!
Vegetarianism seems to me to be a form of religion too. Have you noticed that, whenever a vegetarian comes to dinner, you have to provide a special vegetarian meal for them? What happens when you get invited back? Do they provide a non vegetarian dish for you? Like hell they do! Eating with vegetarians is like partaking in the last supper, and though I have nothing against vegetables, I have met many in my time, having some sort of choice is always nice, and having someone else's philosophy stuffed down my throat does not appeal much.
Some vegetarians are so self righteous, and have all sorts of reasons not to consume meat. I have yet to find one who does not wear leather shoes though.
Ok i can see the ecological point of eating vegetables. It takes a lot less land to provide vegetables than it does meat, and of course mass production of animals has become a very unsavoury business, with veal crates, battery hens, pigs that never see daylight and so on, not to mention the methane that cattle produce, adding to the greenhouse effect, but at the same time, where would we be without those animals. If we didn't eat them, they would not be there. Not many people want cows as pets, and fewer still a bull. The world would change significantly and there would be no need to keep green fields anymore. They would soon fill up with council estates, providing cheap homes for the fast breeding population and with all the pulses that they'd have to eat, farting would become an olympic event. We'd all be eating sawdust and tofu sausages with quorn based bacon. (That stuff is so revolting!)
Now i am sure that there are plenty of people out there who are closet vegetarians, and who do not conform to my own personal stereotype. I wish them well and would never try to feed them meat. Now i have written this, I don't suppose that they will be offering me vegetables either. At least I hope not!
Monday, 21 January 2008
Alton2
So, there I was in my first ever full time job, responsible for a class of students and for the first time ever, responsible for myself too. No more would I have the luxury of a cleaner who not only cleaned my room and made my bed every day, but who also brought me morning tea. I often wonder what happened to her; I guess that she has long since passed away.
Now i had rent to pay, food to choose and cook, washing and ironing, as well as gruesome work like preparation and marking to do. One of the hardest things to do was getting up early every day and getting to work on time. It wasn't like college days when, if you didn't fancy going in, you could stay in bed. There were implications should you not get there on time. Only once was I late for work, and that isn't bad in 34 years. It was in my first year, there in Alton, and I awoke one morning at 11.30. I had no excuse at all, i just failed to wake up and that is that. I ambled in at lunchtime to meet the wrath of my colleagues who had had to cover for me and none of whom had any sympathy for me at all. I was chastened and that lesson stayed with me always.
I settled into a routine and made a few good friends. Caroline and Di were new teachers too, and they had a house some miles out of the town. Di also had a van - a green Austin A35 which she allowed me to drive from time to time - amazing really as i had not passed a driving test at the time. I learned quite a lot about driving then and am grateful to Di to this day for her trust and generosity.
The students at Alton were a mixed bunch really, most of whom were nice kids but most of whom had got all they were ever going to get from being in school. Our job was to contain them and probably entertain them for a year, so that they could eventually leave and become pillars of the community. I had to teach some Rural Science (gardening) of which I knew almost as little as they did, games, and Drama. Fundamentally it was all about bluff. I needed to convince them that I knew what I was doing, and it seemed to work. I must confess that I enjoyed the Drama lessons most of all. To say that they were structured and informed would be an exaggeration. To say that the kids learned much about drama would be a lie, but they did have a whale of a time.
Having got to know the students quite well and making sure that the psychopaths were not present that day. I decided to allow the group a little more freedom than usual, and split them into groups with the task of improvising small plays that would be performed later in front of the rest. They scattered to various parts of the old building in order to prepare, and I wandered around trying to locate them all and to offer words of encouragement or advice. I did find one group who seemed to be getting on ok. They were the misfits who had aggregated as misfits often do, but of the rest I could find no trace. They were quiet - too quiet and for a moment I believed that they may have absconded. However, before long I heard a cheer and applause. MIsguidedly I thought that they were really entering into the spirit of things, and so I followed the cheers which were coming from the old library.
I went in and sure enough they were all there standing around one of the old oak tables, and there, gyrating like experienced pole dancers, were two of the more "popular" girls doing a strip tease. Both were down to their underwear as i entered the room. I was almost speechless but did manage to overcome a moment of panic and broke up the party. The girls grabbed their clothing and vanished into the toilets to get dressed. That was the last free drama lesson they had.
That same year I learned many lessons. I am not a very scary person as those who know me will agree. One day I had a class of second year students, who had been bussed to the annexe for a science lesson. Second years were 12 yr olds and this class were fairly docile apart from one lad called Damian. (Cue scary music!) Damian didn't really have much awareness of where the line was and had crossed it far too many times that day, so i kept him back after the others had gone and decided to let rip at him. I didn't actually lose my temper but he thought that I had, and as I watched the blood drain from his face, I also became aware of a puddle forming on the floor beneath his feet. I was mortified and whatever anger I did feel was turned to pity in an instant. Poor lad had to go back to the main school on the bus with wet trousers. I never had to speak with him again after that day.
Now i had rent to pay, food to choose and cook, washing and ironing, as well as gruesome work like preparation and marking to do. One of the hardest things to do was getting up early every day and getting to work on time. It wasn't like college days when, if you didn't fancy going in, you could stay in bed. There were implications should you not get there on time. Only once was I late for work, and that isn't bad in 34 years. It was in my first year, there in Alton, and I awoke one morning at 11.30. I had no excuse at all, i just failed to wake up and that is that. I ambled in at lunchtime to meet the wrath of my colleagues who had had to cover for me and none of whom had any sympathy for me at all. I was chastened and that lesson stayed with me always.
I settled into a routine and made a few good friends. Caroline and Di were new teachers too, and they had a house some miles out of the town. Di also had a van - a green Austin A35 which she allowed me to drive from time to time - amazing really as i had not passed a driving test at the time. I learned quite a lot about driving then and am grateful to Di to this day for her trust and generosity.
The students at Alton were a mixed bunch really, most of whom were nice kids but most of whom had got all they were ever going to get from being in school. Our job was to contain them and probably entertain them for a year, so that they could eventually leave and become pillars of the community. I had to teach some Rural Science (gardening) of which I knew almost as little as they did, games, and Drama. Fundamentally it was all about bluff. I needed to convince them that I knew what I was doing, and it seemed to work. I must confess that I enjoyed the Drama lessons most of all. To say that they were structured and informed would be an exaggeration. To say that the kids learned much about drama would be a lie, but they did have a whale of a time.
Having got to know the students quite well and making sure that the psychopaths were not present that day. I decided to allow the group a little more freedom than usual, and split them into groups with the task of improvising small plays that would be performed later in front of the rest. They scattered to various parts of the old building in order to prepare, and I wandered around trying to locate them all and to offer words of encouragement or advice. I did find one group who seemed to be getting on ok. They were the misfits who had aggregated as misfits often do, but of the rest I could find no trace. They were quiet - too quiet and for a moment I believed that they may have absconded. However, before long I heard a cheer and applause. MIsguidedly I thought that they were really entering into the spirit of things, and so I followed the cheers which were coming from the old library.
I went in and sure enough they were all there standing around one of the old oak tables, and there, gyrating like experienced pole dancers, were two of the more "popular" girls doing a strip tease. Both were down to their underwear as i entered the room. I was almost speechless but did manage to overcome a moment of panic and broke up the party. The girls grabbed their clothing and vanished into the toilets to get dressed. That was the last free drama lesson they had.
That same year I learned many lessons. I am not a very scary person as those who know me will agree. One day I had a class of second year students, who had been bussed to the annexe for a science lesson. Second years were 12 yr olds and this class were fairly docile apart from one lad called Damian. (Cue scary music!) Damian didn't really have much awareness of where the line was and had crossed it far too many times that day, so i kept him back after the others had gone and decided to let rip at him. I didn't actually lose my temper but he thought that I had, and as I watched the blood drain from his face, I also became aware of a puddle forming on the floor beneath his feet. I was mortified and whatever anger I did feel was turned to pity in an instant. Poor lad had to go back to the main school on the bus with wet trousers. I never had to speak with him again after that day.
Wednesday, 16 January 2008
रेग्रेट्स
Last night, for no discernable reason, I got drunk!
The evening started normally with dinner and a glass of wine and then off went the brain and on came a movie. During which a friend called and was feeling a bit lost, so he joined in with a few more glasses of wine and when that had gone, out came the brandy and so the evening wore off.
We ended up watching Pink Floyd and stupidly listening to songs that I really should avoid at such times, however we all make mistakes and so the evening progressed. When said friend got up to go home, it was around 1 am and he fell over, twice before i got him out of the door and watched his meandering departure down the drive. He made it to the road safely, waved and vanished into the night. I guess I should have seen him home, but then he'd have had to see me back again so it was sensible to leave him to it.
I guess that I was celebrating the last day before my birthday, and although it shouldn't bother me any more, i still don't like birthdays. Each one seems like a stepping stone and one closer to a destination that I am not ready to reach.
Needless to say, today I am regretting yesterdays choices.
The evening started normally with dinner and a glass of wine and then off went the brain and on came a movie. During which a friend called and was feeling a bit lost, so he joined in with a few more glasses of wine and when that had gone, out came the brandy and so the evening wore off.
We ended up watching Pink Floyd and stupidly listening to songs that I really should avoid at such times, however we all make mistakes and so the evening progressed. When said friend got up to go home, it was around 1 am and he fell over, twice before i got him out of the door and watched his meandering departure down the drive. He made it to the road safely, waved and vanished into the night. I guess I should have seen him home, but then he'd have had to see me back again so it was sensible to leave him to it.
I guess that I was celebrating the last day before my birthday, and although it shouldn't bother me any more, i still don't like birthdays. Each one seems like a stepping stone and one closer to a destination that I am not ready to reach.
Needless to say, today I am regretting yesterdays choices.
Tuesday, 15 January 2008
changes
I have made a decision. This year, i am going to try much harder to be positive. It won't be easy for me, but I am going to make huge efforts to avoid blogging when my mind is in the dark places that I sometimes find myself. Although I feel that when i am there, in the slough of despond, my mind does seem more focussed and I can write more fluently, (some might say effluently!) I know that I can be very negative. I will try to put the bad things away and maybe my words will be easier to digest.
I have been trying to follow the political events in the USA, and watching the front runners in the Democrats struggle to elect a potential president. I don't know a Caucus from a telegraph pole, but have been intrigued by the antics of the two contenders battling it out and weakening themselves and each other in equal proportions. Like many people outside America, and also many people inside, I hope that the next presidential elections will see a return to a Democrat government, and a huge turn around in foreign policy as a result.
Recent events though give more concern for worry than for hope. In order for a Democrat to be elected president, America will have to choose between a Woman, and a Black man. I don't think that middle America is likely to be ready for either of those choices. The Bible belt must already be panicking and will be ready to vote for anything as long as it prevents the democrats from getting back in.
Personally, i believe that either Obama or Clinton would be a big improvement on what they have now, but at the same time, like Bush, whoever holds the keys to the white house will be a puppet of the vested interest administration, who are owned and driven by the big corporations. Changes may not be quite as drastic as we would all like them to be.
Change is sometimes harder than it appears to be, and in order for that to happen, an individual must really want it to. The same is true of peoples. I hope that the average American wants a change and sees the need for that.
I have been trying to follow the political events in the USA, and watching the front runners in the Democrats struggle to elect a potential president. I don't know a Caucus from a telegraph pole, but have been intrigued by the antics of the two contenders battling it out and weakening themselves and each other in equal proportions. Like many people outside America, and also many people inside, I hope that the next presidential elections will see a return to a Democrat government, and a huge turn around in foreign policy as a result.
Recent events though give more concern for worry than for hope. In order for a Democrat to be elected president, America will have to choose between a Woman, and a Black man. I don't think that middle America is likely to be ready for either of those choices. The Bible belt must already be panicking and will be ready to vote for anything as long as it prevents the democrats from getting back in.
Personally, i believe that either Obama or Clinton would be a big improvement on what they have now, but at the same time, like Bush, whoever holds the keys to the white house will be a puppet of the vested interest administration, who are owned and driven by the big corporations. Changes may not be quite as drastic as we would all like them to be.
Change is sometimes harder than it appears to be, and in order for that to happen, an individual must really want it to. The same is true of peoples. I hope that the average American wants a change and sees the need for that.
alton
So I found myself in Alton, a small market town in North Hampshire. Twenty one years old and just a suitcase for company. I thought that finding a room would be easy, after all, at college the rooms came by themselves and I hadn't even needed to look. Alton was different. Having arrived, I booked into a hotel for the night and left my suitcase there while I walked the streets looking for somewhere to stay. Term began in three days, so I was pretty desperate.
The first place I found was a room in a family house that was offered for a meagre sum of money. Calling it a room, was a bit of an exaggeration but it was cheaper than the hotel, and having found nothing else, agreed to take it on a day to day basis. I moved in the following day and found that there wasn't room for both myself and the suitcase. The room was as long as the bed and I was longer than both. The lady however was very kind and it was a place to sleep. After a long search, i did find a bedsitting room, above a photographers shop in the high street, and within 24 hours i had moved in to my new abode, where i was to live in semi squalour for the next year. It was an attic room with sloping ceilings, a leaky roof, a streetlight next to the window, and furniture that had seen better days a long time since. However it was home and I could begin my new career as a responsible classroom teacher.
The annexe to which I had been appointed was a good mile away from the main school and I arrived in plenty of time to meet my new colleagues and to be shown around. May I say at this point that in those days we were not interviewed by a school. Having finished college, we had applied to local Authorities and my only interview had been with hampshire county council. They had a list of vacancies and I was given a job at a school that I had never seen.
The annexe was a large victorian house and grounds, in which were prefabricated classrooms, gardens and tennis courts. The main house was largely out of use, but we did have a staffroom and a library of sorts. there were three of us in the full time team, and one or two others who popped in on a part time basis. This was the place where those about to leave school, with no qualifications, were to spend their last 12 months. Needless to say, they were not the most highly motivated students in the world. Most were nice kids from tough families and a few were just barking mad.
I now had a class of my own, for whom I was in some ways responsible. I learned quickly how to mark a register and all of the other little tasks that they never bother to teach you at college, and settled into a routine that I soon found was teaching me a lot more than i was teaching them.
The first place I found was a room in a family house that was offered for a meagre sum of money. Calling it a room, was a bit of an exaggeration but it was cheaper than the hotel, and having found nothing else, agreed to take it on a day to day basis. I moved in the following day and found that there wasn't room for both myself and the suitcase. The room was as long as the bed and I was longer than both. The lady however was very kind and it was a place to sleep. After a long search, i did find a bedsitting room, above a photographers shop in the high street, and within 24 hours i had moved in to my new abode, where i was to live in semi squalour for the next year. It was an attic room with sloping ceilings, a leaky roof, a streetlight next to the window, and furniture that had seen better days a long time since. However it was home and I could begin my new career as a responsible classroom teacher.
The annexe to which I had been appointed was a good mile away from the main school and I arrived in plenty of time to meet my new colleagues and to be shown around. May I say at this point that in those days we were not interviewed by a school. Having finished college, we had applied to local Authorities and my only interview had been with hampshire county council. They had a list of vacancies and I was given a job at a school that I had never seen.
The annexe was a large victorian house and grounds, in which were prefabricated classrooms, gardens and tennis courts. The main house was largely out of use, but we did have a staffroom and a library of sorts. there were three of us in the full time team, and one or two others who popped in on a part time basis. This was the place where those about to leave school, with no qualifications, were to spend their last 12 months. Needless to say, they were not the most highly motivated students in the world. Most were nice kids from tough families and a few were just barking mad.
I now had a class of my own, for whom I was in some ways responsible. I learned quickly how to mark a register and all of the other little tasks that they never bother to teach you at college, and settled into a routine that I soon found was teaching me a lot more than i was teaching them.
Monday, 14 January 2008
जोब्स
I keep promising myself that I will press on and finish the task that I set myself in this blog. That was to record the events of my life that I can recall, while omitting the most life changing ones, ie the relationships. It isn't easy to leave them out but I am trying. I would say that any relationship is a worthwhile experience, and that from each one we bring something and we take something. One thing that is clear to me is that I remember every one of them with a startling clarity, and perhaps that is why I choose not to write them down.
Mostly so far I have dwelled on the formative years of my life, and in them i include my college days. College was a place that i went hoping to grow up, and I suppose on that I scored about 6/10. College was a rollercoaster ride and included some of the highs and also some of the lowest points of my life. It is easy to talk about them in glowing terms, and indeed, they were some of the best days of my life. In the end though, it was three years in total and in the great scheme of things, probably not of great significance. I did meet my wife to be there, and that is all i will say about that.
I left college in the summer of 1970 and by now, any chances of me going home were pretty slim. I found a holiday job working in a bar on the Isle of Wight, where I spent the summer. My boss, found me a room - a tiny box without a window, in someone's house. It was grim but then I only slept there and not for long either. The work day began at 10am and we were there to clean the bar, restock and then open in time for lunch. The lunch session finished at 2pm and we were provided with lunch. The afternoon was usually spent sleeping on the beach, or grabbing a quick shower back at the boxroom, and then we'd be back at 5 for the start of the evening shift. Again we'd grab some food before hitting the bar for a 6 o'clock opening. In the evenings there was a band - a group of ancient players called "The Gay Bachelors!" They played what the early evening punters wanted to hear I guess, but the same things night after night. It seemed to make the night go slower if anything. They would play until 11pm and then a DJ would appear and the disco would begin and go on until 1am. Most of the night the largely drunken clientelle were six deep at the bar and very demanding. By closing time I was exhausted and believe me i earned every single penny of the thirty pounds a week.
It was the summer of the great Pop Festival, and Jimi Hendix's last public performance. We did go to look at the site but the festival passed me by, as did the 600,000 hippies that turned up to make it so memorable for so many.
The summer went quickly and I had a job to go to. I had been appointed to a High school in Alton, Hants, where i was to be based in an annexe along with the ne'er do wells, the then fourth year leavers. So I left the pub and headed back to the mainland and began the search for accommodation.
Mostly so far I have dwelled on the formative years of my life, and in them i include my college days. College was a place that i went hoping to grow up, and I suppose on that I scored about 6/10. College was a rollercoaster ride and included some of the highs and also some of the lowest points of my life. It is easy to talk about them in glowing terms, and indeed, they were some of the best days of my life. In the end though, it was three years in total and in the great scheme of things, probably not of great significance. I did meet my wife to be there, and that is all i will say about that.
I left college in the summer of 1970 and by now, any chances of me going home were pretty slim. I found a holiday job working in a bar on the Isle of Wight, where I spent the summer. My boss, found me a room - a tiny box without a window, in someone's house. It was grim but then I only slept there and not for long either. The work day began at 10am and we were there to clean the bar, restock and then open in time for lunch. The lunch session finished at 2pm and we were provided with lunch. The afternoon was usually spent sleeping on the beach, or grabbing a quick shower back at the boxroom, and then we'd be back at 5 for the start of the evening shift. Again we'd grab some food before hitting the bar for a 6 o'clock opening. In the evenings there was a band - a group of ancient players called "The Gay Bachelors!" They played what the early evening punters wanted to hear I guess, but the same things night after night. It seemed to make the night go slower if anything. They would play until 11pm and then a DJ would appear and the disco would begin and go on until 1am. Most of the night the largely drunken clientelle were six deep at the bar and very demanding. By closing time I was exhausted and believe me i earned every single penny of the thirty pounds a week.
It was the summer of the great Pop Festival, and Jimi Hendix's last public performance. We did go to look at the site but the festival passed me by, as did the 600,000 hippies that turned up to make it so memorable for so many.
The summer went quickly and I had a job to go to. I had been appointed to a High school in Alton, Hants, where i was to be based in an annexe along with the ne'er do wells, the then fourth year leavers. So I left the pub and headed back to the mainland and began the search for accommodation.
Thursday, 3 January 2008
2008
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
The English language is made so much more colourful by little sayings and truisms that may be lost on people not intimately familiar with it.
I have been ill since before December 25th. I guess that I was struck down by one of the many pernicious Viruses that the air seems filled with at this time of the year. It started with a sore throat and progressed from there, through a range of symptoms that I will not begin to describe, but suffice it to say that I have not eaten for four days.
Having a fair knowledge of the workings of the human body and the nasty things that can happen to it, means that I am always on the lookout for trouble, and so during the course of this recent bout of misery, i have imagined all sorts of causes for the series of discomforts that i have been through. Having a headache while feeling sick, got me looking for a rash that didn't exist, and a cramp in my right arm gave me a momentary cause for panic.
I am not a hypochondriac, in fact I am quite the reverse in the main. I will do anything to avoid taking pills and medicines, and have to be dragged screaming and kicking to visit doctors and hospitals, but the imagination is a scary thing and being a pessimist, I always imagine the worst possible scenario.
I am at a stage in life now where any illness could potentially be my last. In biological terms, i am redundant and therefore just a burden on the ecosystem. To all intents and purposes I am useless and therefore it is natural that my resources should be returned for recycling. Knowing this does help a little and I do not fear death. I fear the process of dying as I guess we all do, but I no longer have a sense that I have more to achieve.
This all sounds terribly maundlin, and was not what I set out to write but I guess it is time I tried to ingest more fuel. Maybe then i will feel more positive and ready to face a challenge, should any be put in my way.
One day, there will be a final entry in this blog, such things are inevitable. If this should be it then thank you for reading it.
The English language is made so much more colourful by little sayings and truisms that may be lost on people not intimately familiar with it.
I have been ill since before December 25th. I guess that I was struck down by one of the many pernicious Viruses that the air seems filled with at this time of the year. It started with a sore throat and progressed from there, through a range of symptoms that I will not begin to describe, but suffice it to say that I have not eaten for four days.
Having a fair knowledge of the workings of the human body and the nasty things that can happen to it, means that I am always on the lookout for trouble, and so during the course of this recent bout of misery, i have imagined all sorts of causes for the series of discomforts that i have been through. Having a headache while feeling sick, got me looking for a rash that didn't exist, and a cramp in my right arm gave me a momentary cause for panic.
I am not a hypochondriac, in fact I am quite the reverse in the main. I will do anything to avoid taking pills and medicines, and have to be dragged screaming and kicking to visit doctors and hospitals, but the imagination is a scary thing and being a pessimist, I always imagine the worst possible scenario.
I am at a stage in life now where any illness could potentially be my last. In biological terms, i am redundant and therefore just a burden on the ecosystem. To all intents and purposes I am useless and therefore it is natural that my resources should be returned for recycling. Knowing this does help a little and I do not fear death. I fear the process of dying as I guess we all do, but I no longer have a sense that I have more to achieve.
This all sounds terribly maundlin, and was not what I set out to write but I guess it is time I tried to ingest more fuel. Maybe then i will feel more positive and ready to face a challenge, should any be put in my way.
One day, there will be a final entry in this blog, such things are inevitable. If this should be it then thank you for reading it.
Monday, 31 December 2007
Words
New Year's Eve, and we are about to move into 2008. It is a time when many people make resolutions that have half lives measured in seconds, and a time when for some strange reason, we all hope that things will get better.
Tonight, after the consumption of vast quantities of alcohol, people will declare undying love for complete strangers, they will make promises that in the morning will be forgotten, and those lucky enough to wake up tomorrow will find that it is January 1st and that it is no different to any other day. Things only get better if you are prepared to make changes, and the only person that you can change is yourself. 2008 will see more murder and mayhem, a second coming is unlikely, as is the end of the world. Next year people will be born and people will die, the likes of Osama Bin laden will continue their mindless and cowardly attacks on innocent people, viruses will continue to mutate, and new methods of killing will be devised. People will continue to be greedy and grasping and have little time for others. The yob culture will grow, and society will continue to worship the mediocre and idolise the failures and talentless celebrities.
It will be a year like any other and in 366 days time, people will be preparing to celebrate and hope that 2009 will be a better year. I hope that your year is at least as good as this one has turned out.
Tonight, after the consumption of vast quantities of alcohol, people will declare undying love for complete strangers, they will make promises that in the morning will be forgotten, and those lucky enough to wake up tomorrow will find that it is January 1st and that it is no different to any other day. Things only get better if you are prepared to make changes, and the only person that you can change is yourself. 2008 will see more murder and mayhem, a second coming is unlikely, as is the end of the world. Next year people will be born and people will die, the likes of Osama Bin laden will continue their mindless and cowardly attacks on innocent people, viruses will continue to mutate, and new methods of killing will be devised. People will continue to be greedy and grasping and have little time for others. The yob culture will grow, and society will continue to worship the mediocre and idolise the failures and talentless celebrities.
It will be a year like any other and in 366 days time, people will be preparing to celebrate and hope that 2009 will be a better year. I hope that your year is at least as good as this one has turned out.
Wednesday, 26 December 2007
Sighhhhh
Well that is over again for another year. Somehow it seems like a fence that must be crossed in order to progress to the next and final straight of the year. Today the shops will be open again and there will be queues of people hoping to get something for nothing in the post lunacy sales.
It used to be said that farmers could be held accountable for all of the ills of this world. Until there were farmers, the population of planet Earth was nomadic and life was truly nasty brutish and short. If you couldn't keep up with the rest of the family, you were left behind and soon became a vital part of the food chain. Then one day, some guys (probably) decided that as they were getting a little long in the tooth, it might be wise to settle down and start growing stuff and maybe, instead of following the herds of four legged food, they would fence them in and hence, have all that they could eat. just outside the confines of their mud huts. Of course it would be a while before health and safety, vet's bills and the subsidies offered by the EEC, but nevertheless, from there onwards they had it made. From such beginnings, began trade, money, enhanced communications, politics and the rest. People had time to sit around and make mischief for the first time in human history. People got older and it mattered not if you could no longer run behind the horse. You could sit in a corner and someone might just throw you a bone now and then.
Of course it now became possible to find time to invent really useful stuff, and to create works of art. Writing followed and before you know it we had the internet and online banking. The population soared and farmers prospered as they always have done. Their vehicles grew in size and number and the roads filled up and so on and so on. Diseases spread easily with growing numbers of people, war became trendy and with that came the need to produce new and more interesting ways of killing people. Farmers demanded ways of killing nature too. Insecticides, fungicides, mulluscicides, nematocides, arachnicides and all sorts of other nasties came from the demands of farmers. I could go on for hours but I won't.
Now of course the damage is largely complete and the farmer has had his day. The hour of the shopkeeper is upon us and we are experiencing a mass delusion that forces us into the acquisition of rubbish.
The shopkeepers are an alien species that work in cahoots with the fashion designers. They invaded Earth several decades ago and through a complex and subtle brainwashing procedure, have convinced the more malleable humans that they MUST have, whatever the shopkeepers wish to sell. They found that is was possible to palm off, oddly shaped bits of coloured fabrics, and shoes for large sums of money, and that this could be enforced by the addition of certain labels. They manufactured myriads of plastic playthings, chemicals to apply to faces, and more and more clothes that no-one really wears but that lots of people think they want.
Inevitably the people collect the rubbish and their housed fill up. Thus they need bigger houses and more and more of the farmer's land gets bought at extraordinary prices.
So in the end - the money all goes back to the farmer, who now gets paid not to grow anything. Hey I can do that quite easily.
So, as you wander through the January sales, accumulating more debris, just think of the poor farmers, sitting at home waiting for their bank balances to grow.
It used to be said that farmers could be held accountable for all of the ills of this world. Until there were farmers, the population of planet Earth was nomadic and life was truly nasty brutish and short. If you couldn't keep up with the rest of the family, you were left behind and soon became a vital part of the food chain. Then one day, some guys (probably) decided that as they were getting a little long in the tooth, it might be wise to settle down and start growing stuff and maybe, instead of following the herds of four legged food, they would fence them in and hence, have all that they could eat. just outside the confines of their mud huts. Of course it would be a while before health and safety, vet's bills and the subsidies offered by the EEC, but nevertheless, from there onwards they had it made. From such beginnings, began trade, money, enhanced communications, politics and the rest. People had time to sit around and make mischief for the first time in human history. People got older and it mattered not if you could no longer run behind the horse. You could sit in a corner and someone might just throw you a bone now and then.
Of course it now became possible to find time to invent really useful stuff, and to create works of art. Writing followed and before you know it we had the internet and online banking. The population soared and farmers prospered as they always have done. Their vehicles grew in size and number and the roads filled up and so on and so on. Diseases spread easily with growing numbers of people, war became trendy and with that came the need to produce new and more interesting ways of killing people. Farmers demanded ways of killing nature too. Insecticides, fungicides, mulluscicides, nematocides, arachnicides and all sorts of other nasties came from the demands of farmers. I could go on for hours but I won't.
Now of course the damage is largely complete and the farmer has had his day. The hour of the shopkeeper is upon us and we are experiencing a mass delusion that forces us into the acquisition of rubbish.
The shopkeepers are an alien species that work in cahoots with the fashion designers. They invaded Earth several decades ago and through a complex and subtle brainwashing procedure, have convinced the more malleable humans that they MUST have, whatever the shopkeepers wish to sell. They found that is was possible to palm off, oddly shaped bits of coloured fabrics, and shoes for large sums of money, and that this could be enforced by the addition of certain labels. They manufactured myriads of plastic playthings, chemicals to apply to faces, and more and more clothes that no-one really wears but that lots of people think they want.
Inevitably the people collect the rubbish and their housed fill up. Thus they need bigger houses and more and more of the farmer's land gets bought at extraordinary prices.
So in the end - the money all goes back to the farmer, who now gets paid not to grow anything. Hey I can do that quite easily.
So, as you wander through the January sales, accumulating more debris, just think of the poor farmers, sitting at home waiting for their bank balances to grow.
Monday, 24 December 2007
Saturday, 22 December 2007
Rubbish
There was a time, when the words, Made in Hong Kong, meant a lot. It generally meant that this item has been produced in a sweat shop somewhere in the far east, and is guaranteed to be utter rubbish. It will break as soon at is used or will severely damage anyone who is so foolhardy to purchase it. Then everything changed. China wanted Hong Kong back and of course, no-one was going to argue with them. Now the same rubbish is labelled Made in China.
Some people maintain that change is good, and of course if we are to evolve as a species, then we must be prepared to change in order to survive. Many species, throughout time have failed to adjust to climatic and geographical changes and have vanished forever. This fundamental mechanism of evolution works well, but it is driven by the need for change and few changes, that are made for their own sake, or through a whim, are likely to survive in the long term.
In the world of education, employees are puppets in the hands of whiz kids, promoted to a level of incompetence, who feel that in order to make their mark, they must force huge changes on the system. And so, like many other organisations, change after change, has ensured that no-one knows where they are going or why they are even moving. The systems go round and round in circles as old and established ideas resurface, time and time again.
Change is not always good and often totally unnecessary. Sharks, have survived unchanged for millions of years, largely because there has been no need for them to change. They are perfectly adapted to suit their environment. Now some species are facing possible extinction, in order to provide the Chinese with shark's fin soup.
So now we have the world being taken over by the largest and most highly populated country. They seem able to copy everything that the west produces, and do it for a tiny fraction of the cost. Alas however, in this life one tends to get what one pays for and we are now bombarded daily by the cheap, badly made and even toxic or dangerous goods that we in the west seem eager to purchase. Everyone wants something for nothing, we all seek out bargains and bogofs but we should pay heed to the likely outcome of this monumental change in economics. Industries in the west cannot compete on price, and probably never will. Therefore in the face of such a competition, the strongest and fittest will survive and the rest perish.
I suppose the result of this will be that everything that we buy will be rubbish and so no-one will be any the wiser.
Some people maintain that change is good, and of course if we are to evolve as a species, then we must be prepared to change in order to survive. Many species, throughout time have failed to adjust to climatic and geographical changes and have vanished forever. This fundamental mechanism of evolution works well, but it is driven by the need for change and few changes, that are made for their own sake, or through a whim, are likely to survive in the long term.
In the world of education, employees are puppets in the hands of whiz kids, promoted to a level of incompetence, who feel that in order to make their mark, they must force huge changes on the system. And so, like many other organisations, change after change, has ensured that no-one knows where they are going or why they are even moving. The systems go round and round in circles as old and established ideas resurface, time and time again.
Change is not always good and often totally unnecessary. Sharks, have survived unchanged for millions of years, largely because there has been no need for them to change. They are perfectly adapted to suit their environment. Now some species are facing possible extinction, in order to provide the Chinese with shark's fin soup.
So now we have the world being taken over by the largest and most highly populated country. They seem able to copy everything that the west produces, and do it for a tiny fraction of the cost. Alas however, in this life one tends to get what one pays for and we are now bombarded daily by the cheap, badly made and even toxic or dangerous goods that we in the west seem eager to purchase. Everyone wants something for nothing, we all seek out bargains and bogofs but we should pay heed to the likely outcome of this monumental change in economics. Industries in the west cannot compete on price, and probably never will. Therefore in the face of such a competition, the strongest and fittest will survive and the rest perish.
I suppose the result of this will be that everything that we buy will be rubbish and so no-one will be any the wiser.
Thursday, 20 December 2007
Poem
Christmas is coming
The Rich are getting fatter
The Poor are getting poorer
But I guess that doesn't matter.
The Rich are getting fatter
The Poor are getting poorer
But I guess that doesn't matter.
Tuesday, 18 December 2007
वर
Well the Christmas card barrage is well underweigh, and pretty soon the mountain of paper, card and glittery stuff will be consigned to the recycling centres, to end up as toilet paper, egg boxes or something infinitely more useful.
Every year the same happens doesn't it? We make our lists of people who sent us cards last year, and use them as a fair guess as to how the game will be played. We write the cards and then play athe timing game. Too early is a pre-emptive strike which can pay dividends as it immediately raises a profile and puts others in a tricky spot. Now they may have you on their list, but if not, their list has to be modified, and so it goes on! The best salvo comes at the last minute. Make a subsidiary list of people that dod not send a card last year and hit them at the very last post before Christmas eve, or even better, hand deliver them when you know it is too late for retaliation. That way they will feel guilt at not being able to return fire.
Every year the cards get opened and one begins to think - Gosh is he still alive? or - Who on Earth is this? or Oh God not another Round Robin! These self aggrandisations are the ultimate weapon of course, against which there are no counterpunches. Some people begin them in January and have developed the art to an extent where recipients, upon opening the said delivery, immediately evacuate the contents of their alimentary canals and literally lose stomach for the fight. I strongly believe that regular offenders of this heinous crime, should be tried as war criminals.
I find that over the years, the quantity of cards has diminished substantially. I am no longer seen as a target. The quality of cards has not improved, though I have noted with some interest that this year, a large proportion of cards have been produced in China. How suitable! The true spirit of Christmas at last.
May you - my reader, have a wonderful holiday, and be grateful that you are not spending it with me. :-)
Every year the same happens doesn't it? We make our lists of people who sent us cards last year, and use them as a fair guess as to how the game will be played. We write the cards and then play athe timing game. Too early is a pre-emptive strike which can pay dividends as it immediately raises a profile and puts others in a tricky spot. Now they may have you on their list, but if not, their list has to be modified, and so it goes on! The best salvo comes at the last minute. Make a subsidiary list of people that dod not send a card last year and hit them at the very last post before Christmas eve, or even better, hand deliver them when you know it is too late for retaliation. That way they will feel guilt at not being able to return fire.
Every year the cards get opened and one begins to think - Gosh is he still alive? or - Who on Earth is this? or Oh God not another Round Robin! These self aggrandisations are the ultimate weapon of course, against which there are no counterpunches. Some people begin them in January and have developed the art to an extent where recipients, upon opening the said delivery, immediately evacuate the contents of their alimentary canals and literally lose stomach for the fight. I strongly believe that regular offenders of this heinous crime, should be tried as war criminals.
I find that over the years, the quantity of cards has diminished substantially. I am no longer seen as a target. The quality of cards has not improved, though I have noted with some interest that this year, a large proportion of cards have been produced in China. How suitable! The true spirit of Christmas at last.
May you - my reader, have a wonderful holiday, and be grateful that you are not spending it with me. :-)
Monday, 10 December 2007
लिघ्ट्स
So here it is again. Though really I suppose it has been with us for quite a while already, it seems to creep in as soon as the summer is over and makes the winter months even longer than they already seem.
I was asked the other day a rhetorical question. Why is it that December 21st is the shortest day, and yet, the 25th is the longest?
Now I know that it is early for my seasonal rant but, if you can’t beat them, join them I suppose, though joining does rather go against what little grain that I have left.
The reason for my earliness is that this year we seem to have had so many messages in the press regarding saving planet Earth, and it is good to see that people are beginning to respond, by using less plastic bags, but now we have an invasion of Griswalderie that not only erases all the good work but quite easily reverses any trend towards reducing the output of carbon.
Yes the lights are everywhere. What is more they get cheesier and more elaborate each year. Houses, trees and gardens light up with so much energy that the heat generated and the increased daylength is causing plants to flower early and birds to nest. Never have I seen such public displays of bad taste as appears at this time of year. Some do it for fun – hard to imagine what fun can be gained there – while others maintain that it is for charity.
I have a suggestion here. Why don’t they count up all the money that they spend on the lights and the electrical power, and give that to charity instead. By so doing they could help save the planet by saving vast amounts of energy, including the fuel consumed by the car loads of people that tour around laughing at their efforts and the coach loads of tourists that actually pay money to see them.
Ok I know I loathe Christmas almost as much as most other quasi religious festivals. But really this is not about religion and has not been for many years. Christmas is simply a celebration of capitalism and the greed that goes with it. Like capitalism, Christmas only survives by growing, and it seems to be growing more tasteless and tacky as each year passes.
The only saving grace that I can imagine, is that once the 26th comes along, that spring is on it’s way.
I was asked the other day a rhetorical question. Why is it that December 21st is the shortest day, and yet, the 25th is the longest?
Now I know that it is early for my seasonal rant but, if you can’t beat them, join them I suppose, though joining does rather go against what little grain that I have left.
The reason for my earliness is that this year we seem to have had so many messages in the press regarding saving planet Earth, and it is good to see that people are beginning to respond, by using less plastic bags, but now we have an invasion of Griswalderie that not only erases all the good work but quite easily reverses any trend towards reducing the output of carbon.
Yes the lights are everywhere. What is more they get cheesier and more elaborate each year. Houses, trees and gardens light up with so much energy that the heat generated and the increased daylength is causing plants to flower early and birds to nest. Never have I seen such public displays of bad taste as appears at this time of year. Some do it for fun – hard to imagine what fun can be gained there – while others maintain that it is for charity.
I have a suggestion here. Why don’t they count up all the money that they spend on the lights and the electrical power, and give that to charity instead. By so doing they could help save the planet by saving vast amounts of energy, including the fuel consumed by the car loads of people that tour around laughing at their efforts and the coach loads of tourists that actually pay money to see them.
Ok I know I loathe Christmas almost as much as most other quasi religious festivals. But really this is not about religion and has not been for many years. Christmas is simply a celebration of capitalism and the greed that goes with it. Like capitalism, Christmas only survives by growing, and it seems to be growing more tasteless and tacky as each year passes.
The only saving grace that I can imagine, is that once the 26th comes along, that spring is on it’s way.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
devastation
I am devastated today. I just found out that I missed an opportunity of a lifetime, and one that I had been waiting for for a few years. I had no idea that last march, that Loreena McKennitt came to London as part of her European tour, and I missed it. Ok i was going through an "interesting" phase of my life at the time when bookings would have been made, but it is no excuse. I missed it and will probably never get another chance. Let's face it, i am no spring chicken and come to think of it, neither is she.
Oh well there it is, another of life's disappointments and like most of the others, the tide of time will wash away the remnants and few traces will remain.
I am still mightily hacked off though.
Oh well there it is, another of life's disappointments and like most of the others, the tide of time will wash away the remnants and few traces will remain.
I am still mightily hacked off though.
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