Who wants to be British?

My ongoing battle with British Telecom following a mistake on their part that has seen not only my ex-directory residential phone number but also my address assigned to a corporation has prompted me to think about the company in a new light. Not only has considerable time and patience been needed to persuade their various departments  to rectify the error but I have needed to fend off a number of prospective customers for the corporation who are probably as bemused as I am as to how this situation should have come about. To compound the error BT have also sold my phone number to any number of companies prompting a deluge of calls from various businesses keen for me to take out advertising space in their respective phone directories.

There was a time that the word 'British' attached to a company name was a symbol of excellence. These days the word is synonymous with poor service, delay, waste, expense, mistakes and shoddiness. Just look at the companies in question:

*  British Telecom

*  British Gas

*  British Airways

*  British Aerospace

*  British Petroleum

*  British Rail

*  British Steel

*  British SKY Broadcasting

*  British American Tobacco

*  British Nuclear Fuels

*  British Leyland

As a British taxpayer, and a British citizen, dealing with any of these companies makes me feel decidedly uneasy. What makes me feel even more depressed is the fact that few, if any, of the above can claim to be British owned.

The Leaning Tower of Westminster

The deteriorating state of the Houses of Parliament is causing increasing unease to its present occupants. Of particular concern is the Neo-gothic tower that houses Big Ben has suffered cracks and crumbling for decades which has caused it to tilt in the direction of the more recently built MP's offices across the road in Portcullis House. Originally completed in 1858 to the design of architects Charles Barry and  Augustus Pugin the tower has suffered subsidence due to the amount of building work that has taken place in that area.  A recent survey estimates that the top of the tower is now one and a half feet off perpendicular, enough to be visible by the naked eye. It has also been calculated that it would take a further 4000 years, if left unchecked, before it reached the same angle as the Leaning Tower of Pisa. How very typical for politicians to get their knickers in a twist over something that may not happen for the next 4000 years when they have no idea how to get to grips with the present day troubles.

The fact that it is leaning at all does however coincide with my own mental images of the Palace of Westminster. Since school days I have viewed our seat of government with a high degree of irreverence.  I think it must have been the Monty Python influence that inspired me to view  the workings of parliament being driven by a crusty, old street entertainer churning out a tune on an ornate, Victorian hurdy-gurdy musical box. While he cranks the  wheel the tower rises and falls as the automatons of that period used to do and the bongs of Big Ben would drown out the metallic noise emanating from inside the palace.

I realise now just how fanciful my ideas were since I have subsequently seen the tower in my dreams suffering a serious case of 'Brewer's droop', buffeted around in the wind like a ladies nightie hung out to dry on a blustery day.

I am far too old to take politics or politicians seriously. As long as they continue to wave their papers, jeer at each other and  behave like a group of yobs from the Lower 6^th  form, I shall hold on to the images that the very mention of the Houses of Parliament conjures up in my mind, that of a flaccid phallus wafting in the breeze, cocking a snoop at the rest of the world.

Hoorah for the recession?

Amidst all the doom and gloom regarding the global turmoil following the banking fiasco there is at least one good piece of news, Little Chef are to close 67 of its 161 outlets in this country. Whilst the potential loss of 500 employees is not a statistic that anyone should welcome (the spectre of unemployment is not something I would wish on anyone) the thought of this dinosaur of diners coming face to face with the grim reality of the 21^st century has a certain appeal.

It is a shame that it has taken a financial crisis to bring the company to its senses. The Little Chef has been around since the late 1950s and has been the bane of most seasoned road warriors for the majority of that time. It is not by chance that it earned the moniker 'The Little Thief', with its reputation for poor quality food, slow service and over-pricing. I have never understood just why the amenities at motorway service stations should be so expensive but it seems to be an unwritten rule that if you shop at any of the concessions on any motorway you will undoubtedly be paying through the nose. Little Chef have known this all along and exploited the fact that the public have very little choice in what is available at these outlets.

My experience of their establishments has only confirmed my misgivings about their service. The facilities do not appear to have changed since the companies inception, the staff are slow and surly, the amenities dated, the food portions are small, unattractive, undercooked and the prices exorbitant. Originally modelled on the roadside cafes found in 50s America very little would appear to have changed despite the company undergoing several changes of ownership throughout its history.

Where competitors have moved with the time and taken chances Little Chef has sat back and taken the money. It is some years since I ate in one of their restaurants. I visited one on the M1 with 3 other work colleagues and we each ordered a 3 course meal together with drinks. It was mid-evening and the outlet was not particularly busy. Despite the inevitable mix up with the food orders and our attempts to wait for each other 3 of us had managed to eat our entire meal and finished our second cup of coffee before the 4^th member of our group had even been served with his main course. He was only eating a mixed grill so I can't see why his meal should have taken so much longer to prepare than that of any of the rest of us. We did try to be polite and wait for his dish to arrive but as time ticked by our meals got colder and colder, to the point that we decided that we could wait no longer.

The company may have expanded their services through other ventures to challenge the competition from the fast food chains and other coffee outlets but the premise remains the same, they have yet to come to terms with what 'leaving the customer wanting more' means. Most of their rivals understand that this means providing a service and product that will entice the customer to return. Sadly, they have taken the alternative view as an excuse to short-change their customers which is why they now find themselves in the circumstances they are in.

Before the Little Chef is consigned to the growing list of big brand failures it should be pointed out that the company has had its ups and downs over recent years yet has somehow managed to pull through, so I would not write it off just yet.

There are many other big names who have already fallen victim to the recession, and there are plenty of others who are under sustained pressure from the same people who put them in the situation in the first place (namely the banks). Very few of us have not been affected by the fallout from the banking disaster but if there is any good to come from the difficulties that we are currently experiencing it is the prospect that a great deal of the chaff will fall by the wayside. We are all having to think and work smarter, cut back on some of our excesses and with luck we will emerge from this recession leaner, fitter and in a better position than we were before.

Granny greetings

At last I can announce to the world that I have entered the hallowed domain of 'Grannydom', my daughter, Evangelina, having given birth last week to a healthy baby girl, weighing 7lbs and 4oz. I am not sure which makes me feel older becoming a granny or seeing the baby's weight written in imperial measures. I'm still not sure how her partner managed to drag himself away from his playstation long enough to procreate, but somehow he managed it and for that I suppose I should be grateful. Being 'people of the moment' they have chosen to christen their baby 'Bonjela' on grounds that Evangelina was suffering from a painful gum boil throughout the birth (if that was the only pain she felt during labour then she should consider herself extremely fortunate). It was as well that the baby did not come 2 weeks sooner otherwise my granddaughter could have ended up going through life as 'Boots own label haemorrhoid cream'. Sadly they have elected to give her the father's surname; it would have been nice to see the Weale-Bareaux surname perpetuated but there are a lot worse things than going through life as Bonjela Biskett. My only hope is that her peers are a bit kinder than her father's, since he's still known as 'Doggy' to his friends.

I can't say that I have ever given a great deal of thought to becoming a grandparent. I always supposed it was just one of those things you ticked off the 'to do' list when it came along. I can't see me being one of these doting grannies, we aren't exactly close as a family these days. Today's Evangelina talks a vernacular that may be tribal but is certainly not from any region of this planet that I have encountered. As for Darren, to give the proud Dad his proper title, he simply grunts a selection of tones, which might indicate that he is winning an online battle of Warcraft, he is going to the pub or that he is hungry. I suppose Evangelina could view this minimalist form of communication as good training for the months ahead.

I don't think I was ever truly 'in touch' with my daughter. No sooner had I given birth to her than I started making preparations to ship her off to boarding school, or at least that is how I recollect the first few years of our life together. I don't regret having a child, it was just that I wasn't 'ready' for it, but then if we all put off things until we were 'ready' then nothing would ever get done. She grew up to be a very single minded and head-strong girl which is probably why I find it so difficult to understand what she sees in a gormless twit like Darren.

I'm not sure what help or advice I will be able to offer them, I think each generation has their own way of raising a child so I shall try not to interfere, at least that is my argument, and I am sticking to it. I can't see me spending my days endlessly knitting assorted garments in a vain battle to keep up with the growth of my granddaughter. I think I shall opt for a backseat role, let them bring up their child as they see fit, offer my occasional services as a babysitter, push Bonjela in her pram around the local park, tell her loads of tall stories and wait for the day to come when she may reciprocate the favours.

Blatter Splatter!!

So the slippery head of world football has once again survived yet another fiasco. At an age where all but the upper echelons of the judiciary have been put out to grass the gaff -prone President of FIFA manages to cling on to power with a limpet-like grasp. This time the septuagenarian supremo has proclaimed that any racist exchanges between players during the heat of the moment should be resolved by a handshake after the game. Perhaps Zinedin Zidane was trying to shake Marco Matarazzi's hand when he was sent off during the 2006 World Cup final. (I guess Mr. Blatter would have adopted the 'Wenger' stance on such issues and claimed he never saw the incident).

You cannot run a campaign to stamp out racism in football and at the same time condone racist comments or behaviour on the pitch.

In many respects the beautiful game is flourishing – the standard has improved, the appeal has broadened and the interest been exported around the world. In other aspects the game is still living in the dark ages and an overhaul is long overdue.

Historically football has always been considered a working man's game a fact that for decades was exploited by wealthy entrepreneurs who recognised the opportunities to cash in on large crowds and the talents of players who were by and large abused and underpaid.

The top players now may be able to command huge payments for their activities both on and off the field, which is very different from being told when and where to play, fit or not, and with little consideration of any future beyond the game. When you consider that a premier league player can earn more for switching on the Christmas lights than one of the 1966 squad received for winning the World Cup it shows just how far the game has come.

I was 8 when we won the World Cup and grew up in awe of talents such as Best, Charlton, Pele, Moore, Beckenbauer, Platini and Cruyff. Maybe I have a simplistic view of life but playground conversations focused on the footballing skills of the aforementioned individuals not what they were getting up to off the pitch. Teams had 2 strips, the second only being worn if there was a colour clash with the opposition. Nowadays it would seem that the club changes it strip every other week. How long is it before we have one set of colours for when the sun shines and one for when it is raining? I don't recall the ruthless exploitation of the supporters that there is these days – ticket prices, travel costs, programmes, refreshments and merchandising of everything from calendars to toilet roll holders.

TV rights have fueled the growth of the sport and made it available to a much wider audience but you really have to wonder how the bedrock of the game, the ardent supporter ever manages to fund their passion.

What I find so hard to accept about the modern game is the cavalier way that it is being administered. The game may have come a long way but the authorities that run it still treat it as a gentleman's club for the extremely wealthy.

When you consider the revenue that the game generates is greater than the gross national output of many countries is it right that the controlling committee consists of a group of old men who can hardly claim to be democratically elected?

The Football Association in England doesn't fare any better with a large contingent whose credibility as business leaders would not pass muster in any other industry. In the 2009/10 season the premier league clubs tabled a net loss of over 0.5 billion pounds and last week Manchester City announced annual losses of just under 200 million pounds. Which other organisation could exist in such circumstances.

In this era of political awareness and accountability FIFA, UEFA and the FA stand proud, like festering sores, refusing all requests for greater transparency.

When allegations of bribery and corruption were levelled against some committee members in relation to the awarding of the 2022 World Cup to Qatar last year, several of those implicated were allowed to walk away, their reputations intact, exempting themselves from any investigation.

Cometh the time for the election of the FIFA president, the only realistic alternative for the post, Mohamed bin Hammam, was forced to withdraw due to his involvement in the Qatar bribery allegations, leaving Sepp Blatter to be re-elected unopposed. In any other walk of life allegations of serious financial irregularities would be rigorously pursued and matters would not simply be brushed under the carpet to save the blushes of the organisation.

Last month several of the footballing unions made representation to FIFA requesting that the national teams be allowed to have poppies embroidered on their shirts for the international games scheduled in and around Armistice day. FIFA refused this request on grounds that this simple act of remembrance was considered to be a political endorsement. Eventually they did concede to allowing players to wear black armbands with a poppy motif, but only after the intervention of political and religious leaders from several of the countries involved.

It is a close run race between the Swiss supremo and fun-loving Italian gaffe-maester, Silvio Berlusconi, to see who can utter the most outrageous quote. In a world dominated by sound-bites these 2 pensioners can usually be relied on for a cringeworthy comment. History will record Sepp Blatter's views on slavery (a reference to Cristiano Ronaldo's transfer from Manchester United), fidelity (suggesting John Terry's infidelity would have been applauded if it had happened in any other country than the UK) and homosexuality (a comment about Qatar – where it is illegal and also that gay players should not fear 'coming out'). In January 2004 he, the former president of the World Society of Friends of Suspenders – a campaign against women swapping their suspender belts for pantyhose – famously quipped that the female game would be greatly improved if the players wore tighter shorts.

The only organisation that I can think of that wields so much power over so wide an area with such secrecy and so much disdain for public scrutiny is the Mafia and I would not recommend that as a business model.

The European Championship in Poland and Ukraine next year has the potential for problems with racism on the rise in Poland and accommodation and transport issues in the Ukraine. The World Cup then follows in Brazil (2014) and Russia (2018); these were brave choices aimed at spreading the influence of the game in those regions though each presents their own difficulties that need to be addressed. The situation will require a lot of help and guidance from the top and it does not fill me with any confidence that the people at the top in football are behaving in such a shoddy manner.

There are too many factions working on their own agendas, Africa, America, Europe the Far East all looking to further their cause. How long has it taken for FIFA to recognise the issue of goal-line technology? Years. And are they any closer to resolving that issue? No. Has anything been done to ease fixture congestion? No. Presiding over such a powerful organisation requires a strong individual with their finger firmly on the pulse, it is not a job for 75 year-old man. Thanks for your effort, Sepp, now go polish your cuckoo clock, step aside and let a younger man implement the reforms needed to give the game back its credibility.

Doorstep Demons

Maybe it is the time of year, the weather, the changing seasons or the proximity of Christmas, whatever the reason it seems to me that the first fall of leaves from the trees is the signal for every enterprising trader and do-gooder to crawl out from the long grass and come knocking around the neighbourhood. The fact that alternate street lamps carry a notice forbidding the practice of cold calling is a sad testament to the standard of literacy in the area.

Working from home I tend to lock myself away in the attic so have generally worked up a heady stream of invective by the time I have walked down stairs to be greeted by someone with a moronic grin who immediately launches into a diatribe of scripted inanities that would make a daytime TV presenter blush.

To what extent I will allow them to continue is often determined by their purpose and their demeanour. Meter readers generally get an affable response while survey teams, satellite TV salesmen and persons hell bent on persuading me to change my utility provider normally receive sharp shrift. I usually allow double glazing salesmen the opportunity of trotting out their rehearsed pitch simply because I feel it must be a terrible affliction that they live with that prevents them from recognising that my property already has perfectly adequate double glazing.

What has particularly attracted my ire just now is the increasing number of do gooders, cranks and tree-huggers who simply turn up on the doorstep unannounced at all hours of the day and night. It has been well documented that people will turn to all kinds of organisations and support groups at times of turmoil and unrest so it perhaps understandable that all and sundry are using this opportunity to peddle their own brand of salvation.

It amused me when a pair of very respectable pensioners recently pitched up on my doorstep mid afternoon and asked me “Are you concerned about the economic downturn..... if so, Jesus Christ can help you.” My recollection of bible classes is particularly shaky for I can't recall reading anywhere that Jesus was a banker and even though most of those involved in financial services may think of themselves as Jesus Christ recent performance has rather disproved that possibility. If I am not mistaken was there not some edict of “Seeketh the Lord and ye shall find”? That being the case then surely the onus is on the individual to seek out the Lord or whoever they deem most capable of providing the salvation they crave. Doubtless there will be those who would point to other edicts such as “go forth and multiply”, which by pure coincidence pretty much paraphrases my stock response. However, I don't think that cold calling was quite the intention behind this idea.

I have yet to receive a call from the local Jedi or Satanist representative but can assure them of the same curt greeting that I would any other unwelcome visitor.

The global economy is in a mess and millions of people are worried about their present and future prospects. If seeking support from like-minded individuals helps them cope with the situation then good luck to them but it seems wrong to me that so many organisations are utilising this period of uncertainty as a recruiting drive to bolster their numbers.

In the words of the late Dave Allen, “Whatever your religion and wherever you are, may your God go with you.”

Autumn v Indian Summer

Hell for Betsy! Its October already – the weather was better than we have had all Summer at the start of the month – 90 degrees in most of the UK while parts of Scotland and Northern Ireland barely scraped into double figures, what can possibly dent the spirits? Oh yes, its Strictly v XFactor yet again. At least we don’t have Big Brother any more – Oh; yes we do – its just moved to Channel 5. If there was ever a good reason to move to the remotest parts of the UK (where signals are sporadic) that alone would be it. It says much for the state of the media sector that we are still being subjected to these stalwarts which have surely passed their best before date, if not their sell by date.

I understand that the change for Big Brother from Channel 4 to Channel 5 was marked by a Celebrity edition featuring such well known luminaries as Jedward, Kerry Katona and Sally Bercow. Thankfully I was on holiday and missed the entire series, for which I was eternally thankful. Not that I have ever paid much attention to the programme, the very concept of which I find a complete turn off. Unfortunately, one of the key motivations behind these programmes is the selling of newspapers, so it is hardly surprising that the antics of some of the house guests are geared towards creating column inches, whether it be good or bad news.

Just when you think that Channel 5 have scraped the bottom of the barrel of Z-listers and wannabes so Strictly and XFactor come up with another crop of lame ducks to disgrace our screens for the next 3 months. I feel certain that the Oxford English Dictionary has a specific definition for the word ‘Celebrity’ however it would appear that each year TV executives are forced to creatively expand on this moniker as they struggle to find applicants willing to subject themselves to the ritual humiliation. There will always be a steady supply of bimbos who’s breast size is larger than their IQ but having sunk to the level of including the wife of the serving Speaker of the House of Commons and a flamboyant Australian Paparazzi photographer you really have to wonder how long it is before we get to meet the grandson of an extra who once appeared in 3 episodes of Crossroads.

As for XFactor, it would appear that it is no longer sufficient for you to be devoid of talent but you need a good cause to be in with a chance of making the final 12 acts. Having struggled to come to terms with the Halitosis that has blighted you since birth or working as a volunteer 7 days a week at a donkey sanctuary more than makes up for the fact that you are tone deaf and have the charisma of a lettuce leaf.

At least with Strictly the producers hedge their bets by ensuring that they can fall back on the professional dancers and the costumes to give the show some sparkle. The pretence of setting up a pensioner TV presenter against a retired sports star half their age seems a far-fetched concept but I feel sure that there are numerous contestants who will view this opportunity as a lucrative alternative to the pantomime circuit.

Probably the strangest of this year’s offerings is Channel 5’s ‘The Bachelor’. The concept of this programme is that eligible bachelor, Gavin Henson, has to ‘road test’ a bevy of 25 potential suitors in a quest to find true love amid a selection of exotic locations. Why couldn’t he simply use eHarmony like any normal person? I have a healthy respect for the Tangoed Welshman’s exploits on the rugby pitch but personally, I can’t see why anyone would wish to share their personal life with the viewing public. He clearly does not need the money and is more than capable of generating his own publicity both on and off the pitch so unless he has an ego the size of Wales (which I have never seen anything to suggest he has) I can’t for the life of me see what on earth convinced him that this was a good project to be associated with. If he were that egocentric then it poses a serious question about the type of girl who would wish to date such a guy.

Fundamentally, apart from Gavin Henson’s mum and friends and family of the potential suitors I do not see the attraction of this programme to a wider audience. Given that the programmes format requires the elimination of a contestant at the end of each programme this would seem to indicate that the audience could be down to the hundreds come the final stages. Unlike many of the other reality TV shows there is no audience participation. Perhaps the show would have more appeal if it was left to the viewing public to choose which contestants to eliminate (A bit harsh on Mr. Henson but then that’s showbiz).

Having only watched snippets from a few of the shows I can’t see how the programme has been structured or how the suspense can be maintained. 25 seems an odd number of contestants to start with. Only in America, it seems, do TV schedules run for 26 weeks and I can’t somehow see that the budget would stretch to a 26 week run with a weekly eviction. Allowing for 2 or 3 evictions each episode would reduce the length of the run but there is still a significant amount of airtime to fill and I am not sure that Gavin or the girls have the personality to sustain anyone’s interest for 3 months. In order to compete with the big boys for the headlines in the run up to Christmas my thoughts are that Channel 5 will pull a flanker, either (a) Gavin will mince off into the sunset with the cameraman or (b) He will have a change of heart and opt for a menage-a-trois or (c) the final contestants will have to mud-wrestle in order to win their man.

TV company bosses have proved in the past that they are reluctant to take a chance on new programme formats, or presenters, in times when budgets are under severe pressure so there is a strong possibility that we will still be sitting down to watch the same old shows for several years to come. With Ant and Dec’s batteries on charge until the New Year it almost makes you wish the BBC would let Andrew Lloyd-Webber lose on our screens again.