It Made Me Think.

I don't normally 'do' political or topical in this blog. Too many others to compete with who do it better. Plus I don't normally concern myself with matters I can't really change. (My paltry readership figures suggest perhaps I ought to change. Is my blog in need of a shake up I wonder.

There have been millions of words written concerning the Osama Bin Laden affair, but not by me. Then at the weekend something happened that made me think.

We, my wife and I happened to be in Castleton at the weekend. Situated in a wild unspoilt area in the Peak District, I am so in love with the place I have a large picture of it on the back of my motorhome. (Even though the powers to be in their infinite wisdom have innundated parts with parking meters. Yet there was NOT ONE single vehicle now parked in the areas in question where previously there would have been dozens.) Exactly the place to 'chill out' and many do so, particularly at weekends, including our new found friends parked alongside.

Five youngsters, ages twenty to twenty five, three male, two female. In the course of the next half hour I learnt four were Pakistani, one Moroccan. I also learnt all were well educated, being either at university or in jobs of some standing, banking, teaching, computing. They were also exceedingly well turned out, very modern, very western, but not sporting the hiking paraphernalia normally associated with the Peak District. They were noisy, verbose, outgoing, seemingly unaware of the attention they were getting from less than impressed, often elderly visitors to this area. But they were also courteous, polite, respectful to my wife and I, intelligent and humorous. Their offer of strawberries and cream was unneccessary, but generous and accepted.

It was obvious the group had little comprehension, understanding or experience of the area. (They are city dwellers, Birmingham and Sheffield.) The visit was to be short, for the pull of city life was strong. The talk was of visiting Leeds, presumably to experience the night life or Sheffield, to buy shoes. (On a Saturday evening, surely not viable, my friends!) Eventually they left and quiet returned to Castleton. But why should our chance meeting have any political implications?

Our new friends are young. They are respectful of their parents, in spite of behaviour at odds with their upbringing; (They were in Castleton to get away from 'their own'.) At least one talked of arranged marriage without rancour or particular apprehension. We are old, not of the Muslim faith, pursuing a British way of life; trips to the great outdoors included. We had little in common, but then again the parents of our friends are old. Herein lies the crux of the matter.

The likes of Muslims like Bin Laden has caused the world much misery and fear and the terror is ongoing. Fundamentists amongst the old are probably entrenched beyond redemption. That you can convince some young that virgins are on offer in return for suicide bombing appeals evidently to the brainwashed, particularly the uneducated. But my new friends have the advantage of education. Plus they are at odds with the older generation of whatever political political or religious persuation. Perhaps, only perhaps, the peaceful future of the world depends on the young, my new friends included. Concerning Pakistan,

David Aaronovitch posed the question in The Times last week, 'Whether over time Pakistan will become more like us, or we'll become more like them'. Not a thousand miles removed from our trip to Castleton. You were great, my friends, I hope we meet again. Next time hiking boots and rucksacks at the ready?

Mad March, Grumpy's Alternative News.

Lets get rid of good old USA for starters. Where else would two idiots shoot each other over dog mess on a lawn (Mississippi). And where else would would you get a live sex act with a mechanised phallus as part of your university course. (North-western University, Illinois.) Or a man drive 40 miles with his wife on the bonnet of his car. She was trying to stop him from driving. She fell off when he stopped (Los Angeles). The whole place strikes me as mad. It loses £262 million when a Nasa satellite finishes in the Pacific instead of orbit, (it was intended to study the impact of aerosols on the Earth's climate) and spends another £276 million on a small satellite, Messenger that hopefully will orbit Mercury. If it works they probably think it's money well spent. Presumably you have to be an 'Ivy Leaguer' not to see that in a troubled world there are better priorities. Talking of The Ivy League, one question in the entrance exam (SAT) concerned reality television; which explains a lot. Not that Nicole Impresia is impressed. She is suing an academy for placing her daughter with children of lesser academic ability. Mother claims it is affecting her chances of Ivy League entry. By the way, daughter is in a nursery in Manhattan being only four years of age! Before we move on, an American who is worth saluting. Kelly Gneiting, a sumo wrestler from Arizona became the heaviest person to complete a marathon. He weighs 400 lbs but completed the Los Angeles Marathon, (time 9 hours, 48 minutes). Well done, son! The animal kingdom is always interesting. I thought that the rescue of a porpoise three quarters of a mile inland after the Japanese tsunami was heartening. And the mysterious death of the famous polar bear, Knut was sad. Plus the severed thumb, probably from a crow that fell from the sky in Ilford was weird. (It led to a killer's conviction.) Talking of crows, Percy, a one-legged crow has turned up in Felixstowe again after almost four years. Perhaps things are looking up for animals in general. A man in Beijing has adopted more than 140 stray dogs since 2009. He spends around £500 a month on dog food and rent. And a plan to move stray dogs to a site outside the city of Moscow has been dropped. (There are around 26,000 stray dogs in Moscow.) In Holland a crime force has been set up dedicated to fighting crimes against animals. Plus a business man has set up a pet first-aid course in Essex to teach cardiopulmonary resuscitation on dogs, cats, hamsters, rabbits etc (using dummy animals). Adders are under threat in Britain. So they are rounding some up and moving them. This entails trapping them and collecting DNA samples before release; any takers? Finally, the Queen is being replaced on Fijian currency by geckos, snakes or parrots. I'm not sure how she'll take that!

Talking of money (currency, please keep up!) Spanish police are investigating the theft of £1.2

in cash from a convent north of Zaragoza. Evidently the nuns kept it in plastic bags. Oops! A thief stole £172,ooo by sneaking into the cargo hold through the toilet on an Air Antilles aircraft bound for Saint Martin. A computer hacker in Devon stole £7.4 million in 'virtual' poker chips from Zynco. Strangely enough, you can't cash them in, only spend them on poker games! Footballer Stuart Downing realised there was £700, 000 in real money missing from his bank account when he checked. His agent denies fraud! Luckier was Steve Whiteley, who won £1,445,671.71 for a £2 stake at Exeter Racecourse. Very similar (£1.6 million) to the amount the head of Copland Community School in Wembley is accused of defrauding. And again similar (£1 million) the speed cameras cost on the A537 in the Peak District. Sadly they never led to a single conviction. Cash is king some say. Not in Mr Kevin Cash's case. The property developer, worth £500 million, flew into a temper tantrum when his roast chicken dinner was served at the wrong time according to a housekeeper at a tribunal in Reading. Finally 'Psst, wanna buy a Stradivarius?' Thief John Maughan asked just that in an internet cafe when he tried to sell a Stradivarius violin (value £1.2 million) he had stolen. He wanted £100 but the buyer turned it down because his daughter already had a recorder!

Now for some final titbits that caught my eye. A woman in Southwark has failed her theory driving test 90 times. And a man in the West Midlands has failed the practical test 36 times. Mind you, I think a Halifax burglar is a bigger failure. He fell down a 30 foot well whilst escaping on a job. He had to use his mobile phone to summon help. A feminist group in the Ukraine has protested against a New Zealand radio station' competition to win a wife. A new Radio 3 adaptation of Wuthering Heights contains the f-word several times. (evidently to give it a grittier feel.) Budapest is naming a square after Elvis Presley because of his support for the 1956 Hungarian Uprising. Essex police and council chiefs have been using 'Sniffer wardens' to catch employees smoking in company cars. A new cycle bridge in Cambridge was found to be two feet too big when they lowered it into place. Whoever made it would do well at a concert in Manchester in July. It's to be held in complete darkness; Amadou and Mariam, both blind will star.

Another mad month. As Arthur English used to say, 'Play the music and open the cage.'

Tell a Lie and Find the Truth Spanish Proverb.

George was so pleased with his new hatchet he used it to cut down father's favourite cherry tree. Dad came across the fallen tree and he was not best pleased. He asked George who was responsible and he felt, as any child would that to lie was the best idea. Only George was a well brought up child and his answer is well documented. "I cannot tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet." Well done George, George Washington that is.

I too was, I reckon, a well brought up child. Influenced as a member of the Moravian Church, the one thing impressed on me was the difference between right and wrong. My religious convictions were never set in stone, so to speak, but I have never willingly lied, whatever the consequences. I find it difficult to comprehend how some lie so easily and so often. I was always taught as a child that Moravians are God fearing to the extent that they are exempt from having to swear on a Bible in a British court, though I have never seen this premise actually tested in a court of law. I do many bad things but lying is not one of them.

I passed down a road in the Peak District this weekend, at a place called Owler Bar. A road I vaguely recognised; then my connection to the place slowly dawned on me. Around forty years ago I travelled down this road in a minivan with three other people. A Sprite sports car passed us somewhat erratically, enough to ensure comment, not all favourable. Five minutes later and the sight that met our eyes was desperately unwelcome. The Sprite lay upside down on the road, wheels forlornly spinning, the soft top shredded, steam everywhere, the smell of petrol sinisterly threatening, the driver half in and half out of his pride and joy. Tragedy on a summer's afternoon.

We lifted the car to an upright position, for my companions, though young were fit and strong.

The driver, a young man in his twenties, though conscious, was seriously injured; obviously terminally so even to my inexperienced eyes. I could do little to help as we awaited professional help and Owler Bar is a lonely spot. I held his hand, feeling inadequate in the extreme. His words I had forgotten until this weekend. "I'm dying," he said, looking to me for reassurance.

I've never forgotten that young man or the experience of that afternoon, all those years ago.

Three weeks later I was subpoenaed to attend his inquest. I also bought another vehicle, a Mini Cooper, not my first choice, a sports car with a soft top. And I've never forgotten that young man's simple question. Would your answer have been my answer, I wonder.