Was Life Ever Simple?

    My apologies to any reader/follower who has commented on my blog but received no reply. I do not mean to be rude. But I am finding it more and more difficult to do so. You used to merely click and reply. Now I cannot always follow the instructions as to what is required. Is it me or is life getting harder for us 'old uns'?

    What was my introduction to technology? Listening to the 'wireless' after the war I reckon. Vick Oliver, Ted Ray, Al Read and the like. All for sixpence, the price of exchange for a recharged accumulator at the post office. Television in the 1950's, black and white picture 9-12 inches. (Next door, there was noway my mother could have afforded a 'tele'.) Listening to vinyl records (78.s 33's, 45's on a record player. (Again I never owned one of my own.) Then cassettes crept in but I'm not sure when. Mind you juke boxes seem to have been around forever.

    There were no computers around when I was at school. Nor too many computers when I was teaching. Many teachers only half knew what they were doing when they crept in, how long ago was it? Now the technology is everywhere; unavoidable, dominating, frightening. I understand only a tiny fraction of it all. (My four year old grandson is a wonder on these games thingymesgigs they all seem to have.) I find modern life tantalisingly difficult. Again, is it just me, everyone else seems so clever!

    I do not own a mobile phone. I thought for years they were a 'walking aid' without which movement was difficult, nay impossible. I have recently bought a car fitted with a 'Bluetooth system'. What the hell am I supposed to do with it? I see my grandchildren with iPods or is it iPads. I am typing this post on my recently acquired Apple Mac computer. Very very difficult which is why we are going for lessons!

I wrote an ebook concerning my life (A Childhood Revisited available on Kindle/Amazon.) Some people think that proves I am computer literate. Not true at all, I have good friends who help me out. (M

y wife will finish off this post by putting in the 'Labels' etc.)

    My son in law Jeff is a world rated photographer. If you have a moment look him up, his wedding photographs in particular are wonderful. (Jeff Ascough.com) My daughter Sarah is a major part of the business. What shocked me was what a seriously important, time consuming  part of the business Facebook plays. The time involved is phenomenal. I know virtually nothing concerning Facebook but I do realise it is a force to be reckoned with. ( Since I have been incapacitated I have seen much of 'Jeremy Kyle' on the television. What a sad human being I have become!) It is a programme concerning people with problems. It is sinisterly amazing how many times Facebook is mentioned. Facebook has much to answer for.

I have a Twitter account, which someone set me up but I can't really get the hang of it. They tell me blogging is in decline. Evidently Twittering is increasing at blogging's expense. (I reckon Twittering is for people who can write one sentence, often badly but no more!) There are some amazing blogs around. My puny efforts are basic in the extreme. I feel I am hanging on by my fingernails. But then I look back and marvel as to how many 'names', famous in their day are no longer with us. So its onward ever onward whilst ever someone wishes to read my geriatric ramblings. Now I'm going for a lie down!

Fame or Infamy

    I'm just an ordinary person who has lived mainly in two places. By coincidence both have been in the news for completely different reasons; both will be immortalised for ever.

I live in Derby, a midlands city that houses Crown Derby pottery, Rolls Royce aero engines and Derby County Football Club. Very much a railway place originally, an industrial city that limps on in hard times. Home of Joseph Wright the painter and few others. A place that from now on will be infamous as the home of the notorious Mick Philpott.

    Mick was well known in Derby. He fathered seventeen children by five different women. He lived with a wife, mistress and eleven children in a council house not far from my house in Derby. He appeared on the Jeremy Kyle Show and in a documentary with Ann Widdicombe. He had plenty of time to do so as he had not worked for many years. He amused himself by playing snooker in an extension to his house, amusing others on a pub kareaoke machine and 'dogging' with his wife and best friend Paul Mosley in and around Derby parks. On occasion he appeared in the media demanding a larger house from the local council and stated in no uncertain terms that 'Britain was going to the dogs.'

    Mick Philpott would still, I imagine, be living the proverbial 'life of Riley' were it not for a tragic, stupid, horrific mistake he made in May 2012. He and his friend Paul Mosley hatched a plan to set fire to his house. He, Philpott was to rush into the house and rescue the six children. He would appear a hero, the council would supply him with a bigger house and his mistress Lisa, who had left the house recently with her five children would be blamed.
    The deed was done, the fire got out of control and the six children in the house perished.                

    In March 2013  the despicable trio were sentenced for manslaughter. (Mairead his wife may not have taken part but was complicent.) Mick Philpott was sentenced to life in prison, Mairead and           Mosley seventeen years.         .

    There is so much more one could say.  Suffice to say Derby will be forever immortalised for the existence of a dangerous, feckless, bullying braggart whose whole existence it would be hard to justify. We in Derby have had months of publicity we could do without. I would be amazed if, irrespective of where you live  in the world, you haven't heard of Mick Philpott. He is, I assure you, not typical of the place.
    I lived in Grantham, Lincolnshire for four years. Nothing much happens in Grantham. They had a railway accident in 1906. They still talk about it! Mind you, both my children were born there; there wasn't too much to do of an evening! Isaac Newton was born just outside. A very clever man indeed but I'll take you a bet. I reckon Mrs Thatcher's fame will eventually outshine that of dear old Isaac.
    There's a statue dedicated to him in the town. There's no statue of Margaret Thatcher in Grantham, yet, but I've no doubt it will come. They don't rush things in Lincolnshire! I used to reckon the Lincolnshire motto was 'Never do today what you can leave 'til tomorrow.'
     Lady Margaret Thatcher died this week, aged eighty seven. Her father, Alfred Roberts kept a grocery store in the town and was also Mayor.     .

    His daughter Margaret took an interest in politics, became an MP and eventually the first female Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. Love her or hate her, there has been an outpouring of comment that will no doubt continue for many moons to come.  The Philpotts of this world become infamous; the Thatchers, I will be kind and say, probably famous. The only certainty in life is that we all eventually die and eventually leave some sort of legacy.What memories are you going to leave behind and what is your town or village famous for?

An Unexceptional Place

•     I decided when I started blogging I would usually avoid the news. Others do it better and on average its instantly forgettable. But once in a while something happens that stays in the memory.
•     I live in Derby, an unexceptional town of approximately 230,000 people. When I travel the country many people have little idea of the place; often they don't even know where in Britain it is. I have written about it two previous occasions that I can remember. In    A man was convicted of plotting to kill the prime minister. Coincidentally the same thing had happened in Derby  (this time by a woman) many years previously, the Prime Minister being Lloyd George. (see post dated 27th August 2008, Deja Vu, Coincidence, Take Your Pick.)
•     On the 4th October 2008 I posted concerning the horrific case of Shaun Dyke (A City Shamed) .    Mentally disturbed, Shaun climbed onto the roof of a building in the centre of Derby. Inevitably a curious crowd gathered. And some pathetic individuals, for reasons I cannot comprehend, urged Shaun to jump.Confused and frightened he did so, ending his young troubled life, to the eternal shame of some of those present.
•     We do not appear in the news too often. When we do, it is all too often for the wrong reasons.
• Mick Philpott is a well known, nay notorious Derby figure. Fifty four years of age he is the father of seventeen children, six by his wife with whom he lives and six by a mistress who was originally a bridesmaid at his wedding. He seemingly alternates nightly between wife and mistress. Mick has a criminal record and is unemployed, though he has refused job offers in the past. He is also on record saying that he thinks Britain is 'going to the dogs' because Derby Council refuses to provide him with a bigger house for his family. There are many other aspects of the Philpott saga, including Micks appearance on the Jeremy Kyle Show and frequent appearances in the national press.
•     The whole thing is depressing in the extreme. But moved from merely depressing to horrific this week. The Philpott house was badly damaged by fire. Five children died, a sixth is fighting for his life in hospital. No children deserve this, indeed, neither do any parents, whatever their weaknesses. There is the suspicion of murder, you will no doubt hear much more in the following weeks.
•     Derby will be to the forefront of national news for some considerable time. (It is not long since it made national news when child grooming by men was found to be taking place on a large scale.) Which all begs the question. Is Derby any better, any worse, any different to any other medium sized place in 21st century Britain. I get very annoyed with people, particularly the elderly who harp on about the past, 'the good old days'. But the seeds of doubt are beginning to be sown.  
•     

Jolly Old June

Did no one notice May's Alternative News never materialised due to Grumpy's dodgy health in the not so merry month of May. No such problem in June, so what caught the eye.

As usual, the animal kingdom was in the news. A rare shrew was returned home to the Isles of Scilly after stowing away on the ferry to Cornwell. And a chihuahua called Conchita is at the centre of a law suite in Miami. Its owner, Gail Posner left it £10,000 a month in her will, to include, amongst other things, manicures, pedicures and cashmere pyjamas. Ms Posner's son is not amused. Plus zoo workers in charge of pregnant pandas sent back to the Research Centre in Sichuan, China to breed are really taking the job seriously. Those involved will disguise themselves as pandas 'By donning a black and white fur coat and crawling on the ground.' The mind boggles. Nevertheless they are luckier than the eight foxes and fifty chameleons found in extremely large suitcases of a passenger at Cairo Airport bound for Thailand. At least they were alive, which was more than could be said for the the tiger, rare birds and lemurs found in the freezer of a man in Coventry. Some of which, incidentally, were bought on eBay. They reckon Knut the polar bear at Berlin Zoo has psychological problems, minor compared with the two idiots just mentioned. To end this section on a more hopeful note, how about Oscar the two year old cat who has been fitted with bionic legs after a combine harvester accident in Jersey. Good luck, Oscar, I hope you go from strength to strength.

I see Lord Freud, the minister for social reform has come up with a scheme whereby grandparents mentor teenagers and help them 'Navigate the adult world', a policy now officially adopted in David Cameron's 'Big Society' strategy. Are these people real. What do they think grandparents do all their lives, drink tea and watch Jeremy Kyle! Did you notice, by the way, a US study suggests drinking more than four cups of tea a day increases the risk of rheumatoid arthritis. Mind you, even they, Georgetown University suggest more studies are needed.

Talking of oldies, did you know 'Tears' by Ken Dodd was the biggest selling record of the sixties after 'She Loves You' and 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'. Eat your heart out, Tom Jones, Cliff and The Rolling Stones. Plus Doddy is still touring at the age of eighty two with his Happiness Show.

On a macabre note, do you fancy your body going on display, courtesy of Dr von Hagens who has become infamous for displaying treated corpses on public display in tableau's depicting corpses running, playing chess and other less mentionable occupations. Plus his attached supermarket has body parts for sale: a smoker's lung, £3,600, a head and brain slice, £1,500 0r a testicle for a mere £360. Ideal presents for those who have everything. Or perhaps for someone you don't like!

June had so much to offer I will do a follow up concerning ten things that made me smile. But I'll leave you with one or two 'shorties' that caught the eye.

I noticed that Sir Randulph Fiennes, the explorer is regularly mixed up, where officialdom is concerned, ie speeding tickets with Hollywood actor Ralph Fiennes. On a par with the Australian Parliament House gift shop that was selling mugs marked 'Barrack' Obama. Get it right lads. (Barack of course.)

I noticed the American military have ditched Velcro and returned to the humble button. Evidently the fine sand in Iraq and Afghanistan plays havoc with Velcro. So much for the 21st century progress.

And finally one for the ladies. How much do you spend on shoes, my dears. The website Gocompare.com reckons girls purchase their first pair at fourteen and buy seven pairs a year for the rest of their lives. It is suggested the average woman has nineteen pairs of shoes, worth £664.81 in her wardrobe. And the cost over a lifetime? £16,000! No wonder many a man wears clothes reminiscent of Worzel Gummidge. It's all he can afford!