Driving Ambition

I was driving along the Corby bypass heading in the direction of Kettering, Northampton and on to Old Stratford near Milton Keynes. I hadn’t made that little jaunt since the 90’s when I worked with a publishing house called Century House Information. We were a little team of people based in a late 19th – early 20th century house with a portakabin that acted as extra office space at the end of a car park. As one would walk past the house one would be forgiven for not giving the building a second glance, after all, externally it just looks like every other house on the main road leading onto the larger-than-usual ‘village’ of Stony Stratford. It was from here that my colleagues and I would travel to all corners of the world working with central and local governments on reports that we would publish on the subject of economic development and investment. These reports would then be made available to business leaders: the movers and shakers around the world, who may be considering total relocation from one country to another, or may be thinking of perhaps the expansion of their existing business interests into expanding markets. They would read the magazine or country supplements which would give all of the details that might help them in their decision making process, from available greenfield/brownfield sites to the cost of educating a child. I’d often wondered why the managing director and his partner had chosen Century House as a name for the company. One thought was that we were moving towards the year 2000 another, though more unlikely, was that we were named after the grander former headquarters of MI6 near Lambeth in London during the 1970’s and 80’s. I’d gone there last Saturday to have dinner with a friend, but couldn’t remember just how far I used to have to drive to work every day in the 90’s. Before I left home I set the clock in my car and off I went. Imagine my surprise on discovering that the distance clocked from Gretton to Old Stratford was exactly 40 miles. That’s a round trip of 80 miles just to get too and from work every single day. Now that’s commitment! Imagine trying to achieve that today: running ones own car without subsidised travelling costs. In 1981 Baron Tebbit, then Norman Tebbit, as a member of the Conservative government, responded to a comment by young Conservative Iain Picton that rioting was the natural reaction to unemployment. His response, which is often miss-quoted, was to say, “I grew up in the ’30s with an unemployed father. He didn’t riot. He got on his bike and looked for work, and he kept looking ’til he found it”. Well, on reflection, I guess my little Volkswagen Polo was my euphemistic ‘bike’ at a time when the cost of fuel was a great deal less. Incidentally, Stony Stratford is the home of the ‘Cock n’ Bull’ story. Two pubs with those names are still there!

Rose Tinted Winter

The winter of 1962-1963 was particularly harsh. As a child I remember being in winter- wonderland-heaven as I played with my friends in deep snow in Corby’s Thoroughsale Road. We had no thought, quite rightly, to the worries or trials of the adult world as all the ‘big’ people struggled to keep homes warm, preventing pipes from freezing or managing to get to and from work. I still find it hard to imagine what my parents had to do to keep home and hearth together, and at the same time divorce all thoughts of comparison from the relative comforts we enjoy here in 2012.

Yours truly posing in the snow 1963

The metal framed windows would freeze on the inside, leaving sharp patterns that fascinated and stirred the imagination. The only heating we had came from two gas fires, one in the living room and one in the dining room, and a ‘portable’ tall black paraffin heater that was primarily used to warm the bathroom before anyone might consider disrobing in the bitter cold. The bedding blankets and sheets must have been a nightmare to keep washed and dried: there were so many of them. Long before the days of the thick-tog-duvets there were layers upon layers of single sheets of all sundry fabrics, tucked tightly under the mattress to prevent slippage. My mum was one of the most industrious people I think I’ve probably ever met. She would clean, wash and cook for England (or in her case Scotland), yet I can honestly say that I never heard her complain: though she probably did behind closed bedroom doors. Our kitchen was tiny with barely enough room to turn around but in the winter of 62-63, and all the other winters we all spent together, it was the warmest, most welcoming space in the whole house. The pilot light from the gas miser gave the assurance of hot water over the kitchen sink. I remember my mum washing my hair over that sink, and my dad having his early morning shave using a bar of soap and a well lather- clad brush. Mum always insisted that we children must remove our shoes before coming into the house though; having said that, my friend Roy would get away with keeping his on due to his foot odour, which was particularly unpleasant. I remember thinking (as a child) how lucky he was! Even in the coldest of winters I might return home from a football games-period at school, to be told to strip off to my pants in the shed before running into the house and straight up to the bathroom where I was greeted, once again, by the smell of the paraffin heater. Winter food was wholesome and above all filling. Mum’s home made soup was always on the go, full of carrots (giving it its distinctive orange colour), lentils and, frankly, anything else that might satisfy six hungry folk. Last week it snowed and in all honesty, in my home, here in 2012, it felt like summer.

Title Deeds

For a ‘commoner’ to receive a knighthood it is usual that the award is for outstanding achievement or contribution within a certain field. From the day that one has such honour bestowed one might be expected to maintain such standard or at the very least not to bring said field of excellence into disrepute. Part of this view is in direct contradiction to that expressed by Sir Jackie Stewart in his defence of Fred Goodwin (formerly Sir Fred). Sir Jackie rightly suggests that Goodwin was given his gong for past services to banking: all well and good. Where our views appear to part company is that I believe that said knighthood is an endorsement of trust by the Crown and state, a badge of honour if you like, which rubberstamps an individual as having a pedigree: a trusted pair of hands in which to place ones future faith. This is where Goodwin failed and, in my view quite rightly, was stripped of his title. Sir Jackie did make an interesting point and that was that if we are to treat Fred Goodwin in this way then why are there so many peers, some of whom still vote in the House of Lords, and who have ‘dark clouds’ hanging over their awards for excellence having brought their field of excellence into disrepute, still in possession of such grand honours? Its worth noting that a knighthood is a bit like a passport, not something that is owned by an individual, but rather by the state and something which may be withdrawn given certain mitigating circumstances. Often politicians, when gauging public mood, will act accordingly to appease feelings of frustration, even anger, at the way some bank leaders were able to bring the country to its knees, though the stripping of Goodwin’s knighthood may not be enough ‘tangible’ retribution to quiet the baying electorate. The culture of ‘reward for failure’ which appears to be endemic in this country seems to be wearing a tad thin when one considers that Goodwin and others within his field have still managed to walk away from the wreckage with bonuses and pensions which would be regarded by many as a massive mouth-watering lottery win. An alternative for the government and the state would have been, through direct and immediate intervention, to stop all such payments to those, like Goodwin, whose mismanagement and poor judgement lead to financial catastrophe. The BBC’s Panorama programme recently examined the complex business life of Conservative peer Lord Ashcroft, alleging his concealed involvement in a business that went down the pan owing creditors some 19 million pounds. My hat goes off to the journalist whose tenacity has to be commended when trying to uncover the most complex ‘spaghetti’ of tax-haven companies entwined in the investigation. Lord Jeffrey Archer is still that, a Lord, having committed perjury in a court of law, and sent to prison. Many have said that he should have been stripped of his Peerage the minute the judge passed sentence.

High Flyers Fall Further

I recently wrote about the apparent lack of affordable housing available to those who survive on modest or no income. We’ve all heard the saying ‘the more one earns the more one spends’, which I believe to be true. Within any household income bracket ones home and location is often seen as an outward sign to the rest of the world that one is living a life consistent with the ‘statement’ our home was designed to make. I know people who earn amazing salaries when compared to most yet they still spend in relative terms the same, if not more than the rest of us. Indeed, some of these people live way beyond their means in a desperate attempt to appear even wealthier than they actually are, racking up ever more expensive credit in the process. ‘Keeping up with the Jones’’ has nothing on these folk. Quite often even the car’s they drive aren’t theirs, belonging instead to a national leasing company and given to the driver as a perk within their employment package. In itself a false zone of comfort, given the tax one has to pay for the luxury.

The Fall of Icarus. Rubens

All fine and dandy until, God forbid, they lose that job. They then have no car and invariably have more debt and financial worries, pro rata, than someone earning £7 an hour. There are two buildings that have always fascinated me, purely because of their sheer size, opulence, significance and, more importantly, their occupants. Buckingham Palace and The Vatican are the homes to Her Majesty the Queen and His Holiness the Pope, respectively, both of whom have no financial worries though some may say that they have sacrificed a ‘normal’ life for the benefit of state and religious calling. I recently found myself sitting in my modest living room which, by most standards, is not that big, but it is sufficient for a cosy winter’s night watching T.V in front of a roaring fire. Then it dawned on me that even the Queen and the Pope can only be in one room at a time, with no guarantee of privacy. They might, for example, be sitting a single space albeit within a palace, reading a book: yet its still one person sitting in one room with one book. Someone living in a one bedroom flat in Corby or Northampton can do exactly the same. There is a great deal to be said for peace of mind, the very reason why more and more families are choosing to ‘down-size’ just about everything in their lives. For example, shopping at a different supermarket as opposed to the more expensive option down the road. Or changing ones car for one that is more economic to maintain. The world in which we live today is forcing most to re-think or rearrange past choices to suit the uncertainty of an unpredictable financial future. I’ve realised that the time has come to ‘cash-in’ on my past and sell up for a smaller, mortgage free life.

Only the Lonely

There are many sides to living on ones own and just as many reasons for so doing. There are those that choose it as a way of life that gives them total freedom without the ‘interference’ or influence from others which is perfectly commendable and suits many lifestyles. Yet ‘alone’ and ‘loneliness’ are quite different things. Some people have the latter thrust upon them through no fault or choosing of their own. Bereavement and divorce are the obvious culprits than can leave one feeling isolated particularly if in later years such things arise and, for whatever reason, there are no young adult children from any previous relationship to tender support. Of course there are friends or other remote family members that can offer human contact and comfort, but literally, at the end of the day, when the doors need locking, the kitchen light is switched off and its time for bed, one of the loneliest prospects ever is the climb upstairs to the bedroom: alone. Animals have proven to be a great comfort to the lonely, simply another living ‘being’ around ones home that requires just enough attention to ease the all too often volume of silence. Dogs are particularly good as they require the owner to at least get out of the house for a couple of brisk walks a day. Hobbies, evening classes, clubs, and societies: these are some of the obvious groups of ‘new’ people that are out there and remember they need you as much as you may need them. Mind you, perhaps after a hard days work, feeding and walking a pet, cooking for ones self, and all with one eye on the ironing, housework or shopping list, ones energy levels may be just a tad too low. Too low to summon enough ‘get-up-and-go’ to learn about pottery at a Thursday evening class. I’ve experienced enforced loneliness, divorce and bereavement, and fully empathise with anyone going through the same. When two older people, say, in their 50’s or 60’s, decide that for whatever reason there is no alternative to separation, it can lead to one partner who will not find a new life with another person in another home. That’s not all. It’s the panic attacks and hideous waves of useless desperation: even failure. It’s the loss of income which in some cases can be quite extreme. One also loses that other person who was so familiar with your little endearing personal quirks that made that relationship uniquely sacred. Yet all is not lost. In my experience I found it most helpful to ‘open-up’ to my G.P who was than able to recommend various agencies or professionals that understand your plight. The advent of social media on the internet can be an amazing resource for bringing the ‘real’ you back into the world, where you might just find that you are certainly not alone in being alone. I recently came across an excellent website that you might find useful. http://www.webofloneliness.com/. It certainly worked for me.

All For One and One For One

The subject of independence from a United Kingdom has been with us all since the day we were born. Even the Cornish have their own flag as a sign of defiance against being a part of our tiny group of sibling states. Today, Northern Ireland, Wales and Scotland all have assemblies, (though England appears to have been short-changed), that have come about because of their continued and relentless march towards some kind of self determination. Leaders in Scotland were voted in on the back of a promise of a referendum on full independence from the rest of the United Kingdom. Without question, even if such a vote were put to the Scottish people within the next two years, surely the cost would be astronomical. There are Scots living all over the world, which begs several questions, who precisely would be eligible to vote? Would Scots living in England, Ireland or Wales get a say? Would people of Scottish decent be invited to take part? Then there is the question that no one seems to have an answer. If Scotland becomes independent then what possible use is a Scottish independence party? It’s a tad like voting for communism in a democracy: if the communists are elected there will no longer be the opportunity to vote. No one has fully outlined to the rest of Britain the exact nature of an independent Scotland. I have heard it said that they would retain the pound with the Bank of England maintaining control over interest rates and the like. Well, forgive me for being just a wee bit thick on this one, but I’m not sure that’s quite what is meant by independence. A few other questions come to mind. Would passports be issued to Scottish people with border controls put in place? Would we have to go through the same process with the Welsh and Northern Irish? Then, last weekend a less expensive solution popped into my head which may, or may not, have legs, and it’s not something I’ve never heard proposed (possibly for good reason, which at the moment escapes me). Instead of reeling out a repeat Scottish performance for the Welsh and Irish, wouldn’t it be simpler and more cost effective if there was just one referendum: in England. So far, the English have not been invited by anyone to share their opinion on either devolved governments within the Union or potential independence from any of the four countries. Perhaps the English would like to be fully independent from the rest of the United Kingdom, and, if so, surely that would go some way to answering many questions. If England were to vote for full independence with borders and passports, surely the other states would have no other choice than to declare themselves, by default, independent. But first we must ask the question: Why have we not even attempted to resolve the ‘West Lothian Question’ which many see as a major stumbling block in the determination of all our futures.

Beatles ‘mainstay’ TONY BRAMWELL interviewed by Richard Oliff

The ‘Beatle Man’ Tony Bramwell interviewed by Richard Oliff Tuesday 17th January 2012 1530. Paul McCartney’s publicist Geoff  Baker calls Tony Bramwell, “the last man standing” because only Tony, the Beatles former Road Manager, remains alive out of a small group of Beatles insiders from Liverpool who helped Brian Epstein manage the Beatles from the very beginning. Other Beatles insiders who have tragically passed away include: Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall who started as roadies in Liverpool to help out their friends the Beatles, Brian’s Assistant Alistair Taylor who was also known as the Beatles “Mr. Fix-it”, and lastly not to be forgotten is Alf Bicknell, the Beatles chaffeur from 1964-66 and also worked as a roadie at John’s request.  Tony was also a close friend of all of the Beatles and remains close to Paul and Ringo. Tony wrote “Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With the Beatles”, a tell all book about his time working with the Beatles first published in April 2005 in hardcover and is now available in paperback .

Tony Bramwell looks on as Paul works on his technique

Paul, Mal and Tony with A/N other

Tony with John

Tony Bramwell with Bruce Springsteen

 

So Many Why’s on the Y-Front

Another Puffer-Buffer-Duffer?

Which ever way one looks at it we can’t avoid being an island nation with finite mass. Our island space is filling up at an alarming rate with people who consequently need homes, jobs, schools, cars and infrastructure. An item of news during the last week was the decision to give the go ahead to build a new 100 mile high speed rail link between London and Birmingham during 2016 and 2026 at an initial cost of 17 billion pounds.

The proposed route of the 100 mile high speed rail link between London and Birmingham during 2016 and 2026

They call it HS2. In itself it’s quite an exciting and ambitious project which would directly connect our country’s two major cities in what appears to be the first part of an even larger scheme which, by 2033, would see cities like Leeds and Manchester equally connected at a final estimated cost of £32bn. Yet there is another expense: another resource that needs to be considered. One might think that such a scheme would vastly enhance our attractiveness to foreign businesses and entrepreneurs as a forward looking, even dynamic, country in which to invest. All well and commendable. But what of the people who already live in homes which were bought in good faith whose lives are now to be blighted by yet another massive and, no doubt vastly under- budgeted building project? People whose homes have already begun to see their property values decreasing daily as potential buyers study the route of the massive ‘Y’ line. Of course, there are concerns too about environmental issues as the new line will cut into swathes of irretrievable and valuable countryside at a time when our quality of life as a nation decreases on a daily basis. Yet there is one very disturbing factor that seems to have eluded the political decision, begun by Labour and continued by the coalition, to embark on such a massive project. Will travellers and commuters in the years 2026 and 2033 be able to afford to use the service? Lets face it, here in 2012 the cost of travelling anywhere in this country by rail is extortionate when compared with those services on mainland Europe. An annual season ticket that might cost £3,000 in the UK may be as little as £300 for a regular equidistant journey in Italy. Why? Why is it cheaper to fly to a Spanish holiday resort than to take a train from Peterborough to Edinburgh? Above all else, who will run and profit from the finished item? I remember being fairly animated and excited when the channel tunnel was to be opened. I had visions of French-style TGV trains hammering through Kettering and Market Harborough at well over 100 miles per hour. Well, that dream didn’t last long, although it did prompt the powers that be to invest heavily in sprucing-up St. Pancrass. This week I came across a group on Facebook calling for the return of the hitherto lambasted British Rail all of which left me wondering if, as a nation, we’re quite up to running a ‘Y’ shaped future.

John Lennon’s sister JULIA BAIRD interviewed by Richard Oliff

John Lennon and his sister Julia

 (click here for full interview)

Two of Julia's books. Click image for Julia's website and book store

Mersey Beat’s BILL HARRY Interviewed by Richard Oliff

THE BEATLES. John Lennon, George Harrison, Paul McARTREY, Pete Best

The Beatles getting the show on the road: George, Pete, John & Paul

From Liverpool to Hamburg. The rest, as they say, is history! John (left) looks on.

My interview with Pete Best may be heard here. I interviewed him live on Saturday 23rd September 1995 at 1015. This recording is taken directly from the small reel-to-reel tape containing our conversation as it happened.

....then there was a brave new world, new van and new drummer: Ringo Starr!