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Archive for August 2009

A Sparrow

A Sparrow
Please note: This post is nothing to do with politics. I just wanted to share it. This is an absolutely true story and I am telling it very much word for word as it has always been told to me.

A long time ago my cousin’s fiance died rather suddenly and tragically. It was a big shock to the whole family, but a particularly awful shock to my cousin. As you might imagine she was inconsolable.

The day after his death she was sitting in her bedroom in about as dark a mood as it is possible for somebody to reach, when a baby sparrow flew in through the open window and landed beside her on the bed.

Surprised, she tried to pick the bird up, expecting it to fly away. It didn’t. She was able to cup it in her palm.

She phoned the RSPCA and asked their advice. They said that if it become separated from its mother it would likely die. She confirmed she had looked around and couldn’t see any sign of a nest or other birds. The RSPCA guy gave her some info on caring for a baby sparrow, while advising her that the bird would probably not survive.

My cousin looked after the baby sparrow. I suspect it gave her something to do, something to take care of, somewhere to pour the grief that was threatening to overwhelm her. She hand fed it every day. It found a place on top of her wardrobe it liked to sit, chirping merrily. It would fly down and land on the bed by her when she was in the room. It would still sit in her hand.

With the bird getting bigger it was soon able to fly right around the room and was leaving a healthy series of “specimens” on top of its wardrobe home.  My cousin had become rather attached to the bird and for reasons I am sure I do not need to spell out here - part of that attachment was a kind of wistful wonder. But she determined that the bird really needed to be set free.

The next day she opened the window and waited. The bird flew over to the sill, looking at the outside world. Then it beat its wings and flew away.

A couple of minutes later it was back. It fluttered into the room and found its comfy place on her wardrobe again. And that was the last time the bird ever chose to leave.

My dad spoke to my cousin yesterday. The sparrow still lives there, ignoring the open window although it is regularly available. It has a plush cage (with the door removed so it can fly free) on top of the wardrobe. It’s now been with her for fourteen years and counting. (That’s a very long lifespan for a sparrow.)

Different people respond to this series of events on different levels.  Some are scornful.  Some sad.  Some of them take a quasi-mystical view.  Some get very into the psychology of it.  For myself, I have always just been charmed by the story..  I hope you were too.
  
  

Speed Variations

Speed Variations
Cllr. Nichola Harrison, whose excellent blog is always a great read despite the fact she’s a lib dem , has posted about a road safety campaign in Cambridge City’s Mill Road where the residents and councillors are working towards various measures including (but not limited to) a 20 MPH speed limit. 
 
Now I’m not generally in favour of 20 MPH speed limits - except outside schools - and I’ve blogged about this before.  But that’s not the point of this post.
 
What I don’t understand is how Nichola seems so confident that these measures will get through and be approved?  I can only assume that she is dealing with very different officers to the ones I am dealing with.  This should not be taken as any criticism of our county officers, who I am absolutely sure are dedicated to their jobs and always seem very nice.  But they, or the system in which they reside perhaps, can be hard work.
  
Our own A1101 death trap, fairly clearly one of the worst, if not the worst, blackspots in the entire county presently remains a 60MPH limit, despite years of accident and death and a long history of being very bad news for some people who travel along it.  Proposals by the local action group and by myself as their county councillor that the forthcoming (we hope) new speed camera set a restriction of 40MPH seem to be crashing into a brick wall (no pun intended). 
  
The officers are dead set on 50MPH which the action group feel is simply not going to solve the problem.  I agree with them on this.  The officers quote official rules and statistics and perfectly plausible reasons why the 40MPH may not be possible because of this legislation or that guideline or this ticked box list.  Which is all well and good.  But surely there is a case for looking at each problem area on its own merits?
   
We had to fight tooth and nail (and most of that fighting was done by the A1101 Action Group, I must stress - I’ve come late to the fray) for proper recognition of the problem and for acknowledgement of the need for a Speed Camera at all.  Now, it seems, we have a new battle to get speeds properly restricted.  Why spend the money on a project that will slow traffic by only 10 MPH?  On a stretch of road that claims lives, delivers injury and breaks hearts with fearsome regularity.
   
I very much hope we will be able to convince the officers and decision-makers that they have got this one wrong.  Accident after accident plagues that dangerous stretch of the road alongside Gypsy Lane. 
  
Just yesterday I was driving it myself and was almost hit by a lunatic going too fast, overtaking right on that misleading point that is the center of all the trouble.  My four-year-old son was in the car with me.   If that is not a chilling way to have this problem brought home then I do not know what is.  Shaking with anger and barely-averted disaster I could do nothing but curse the idiot in the other car under my breath and resolve to pursue this fight with more determination than ever. 
     
None of us want somebody, or somebody’s child, to be the victim of some horrific accident.  Smudging the edges of this problem will not solve it and may result in a dreadful outcome.  We need to tackle it properly - and that means proper speed control and enforcement.  Before another tragedy occurs.
      

Here We Go Again

Here We Go Again (UPDATED)
The Clarkeson Arms wants to turn itself into a Lap Dancing club and inflict pounding bass lines, drunken revellers and scantily clad ladies upon the streets of Wisbech.  (Well, more of those things, anyway.)

It seems that a week doesn’t pass where somebody isn’t trying to drop things into Wisbech that people who live here would prefer stayed away.  I suppose the accusations of nimbyism will start again in due course.  (Nimby - Not In My Backyard.)  My problem with that term is that by its nature ”your backyard” is surely a place you’d like kept in a certain manner and not filled with things you don’t want, like or which might want to vomit on your lawn.  That’s a normal human response.  It’s not necessarily a bad response either.
    
Back to the Lap Dancing Club:
While I wouldn’t visit such a venue (I think my wife might have something to say about that sort of behaviour - or at the very least would insist on going with me ) I personally don’t have a problem with Lap-Dancing clubs in certain environments.  They are legal businesses in this country.  But Wisbech is a small town and these sort of places are more suited to large cities - where the police are always around and have huge forces capable of handling potential problems.
      
The arguments against these sort of places are many and varied.  Some claim they make the streets more dangerous for women.  This is probably true.  After all, young men tend to drink a load of alcohol and get hot and bothered looking at barely-dressed girls gyrating enticingly but whom they absolutely can’t approach.  That’s a recipe for trouble if ever I heard of one. 
  
Is Lap Dancing degrading for women?  I think that’s a matter for the women to decide - and I know it can become quite a thorny debate in some circles.  I suspect, all too often, it is a trap which ensnares vulnerable women with the promise of popularity and money - a promise that ultimately is revealed as nothing more than a shoddy illusion.  Nevertheless, some women choose to become dancers and are happy in their work and I guess they have the right to take on any legal profession they want to.
  
Whatever the case for or against lap dancing clubs there is one thing that seems to be pretty clear.  People feel strongly about it.  As a keen supporter of localism I believe that decisions must finally be taken by the people closest to the issue and most likely to be affected by it.  The people who live near the Clarkeson Arms are saying: “No!” and they are saying it loudly.  Some others throughout town feel quite the opposite, including several people I’ve spoken to recently.  In a perfect world it is therefore the job of those who wish to open the club to make their arguments, engage in the debate, and try to convince local folk they’ve got it wrong.  And if that’s not possible - then the license should be refused.
  
But being realistic, that is probably not what’s going to happen.  What is more likely is that there will be enough people opposing the idea to force it to go to committee - where it will be approved.  This is not the committees fault.  The licensing laws in this country are extremely permissive and the committee must consider the expense of going to an appeal they are almost certain to lose.  It’s a sad state of affairs, all told.  And one I hope might change with a corresponding change in national government. 
   
In the event that the lap dancing club does open, what then?  Well, in the current economic climate I’d give it six months, maybe a year, until the shutters and For Sale sign are up again.  But who knows?  These are strange times.

UPDATED (13th August)
Wow.  They threw it out!  I really didn’t expect that, but i’m really enthused by the responsiveness of the District Council committee to the strong public feeling.  Whether you like the idea of a lap-dancing club or not, it’s surely a great thing that the will of local people has been heard and acted upon.  Hurrah for localism and local democracy.
   
  

In The Doghouse

Interlude:

Hmmm.  I think I might take a short time away from my blog. 
  
Somebody once said that Discretion is the better part of valour.
  
I’ll be back soon.  If you need me - I’ll be in the little red house (below.)

Shakespeare, in Henry IV, Part One, 1596:
Falstaff: ‘The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life.’

The Midnight Snack From Hell

The Midnight Snack From Hell
The Cambridgeshire Police are in the news today after reports that they have mishandled DNA samples and allowed holding cells to fall into disrepair.   News that March police station kept one sample in a fridge alongside some half-eaten take-away has created quite a fuss.

My good buddies at the Cambs Times report:-
“Fridges in most suites were full of forensic samples that had not been dealt with and there was widespread evidence of systematic failings in the handling, storing and destruction of forensic and DNA samples.”
Which probably says a lot about the under-funding of the Police by this negligent Labour government, rather than about the Police themselves. With the best will in the world, how can we expect the Police to do all the tasks we want them to do but with ever fewer officers, ever less money and ever more paperwork and regulation strangling their operations?  Please don’t get me wrong.  I’m not excusing them.  I’d prefer a tight, disciplined Police operation in this respect as much as anyone else.  But we have to at least try and be fair, don’t we?
  
Then the report says:-
Inspectors saw a group of officers laughing while watching a drunken prisoner smash his head on the wall of a cell.
Which is shocking, if it’s a true representation of events.    But can you really imagine a group of police officers behaving like this?  And if you believe there are evil police officers out there - would they behave like this the day the inspector is there?  And if that were the case what was the inspector doing?  Just raising eyebrows and writing in a notepad?  Were I assigned the task of ‘inspector’ and faced with these events I’d be demanding what the hell was going on, that it stop immediately and asking for names and ranks!
    
Another criticism includes:-
According to the report, a swastika carved into the wall of a cell was left for months, and only covered with paint when inspectors complained.
There cannot be a more reprehensible symbol than the swastika.  But I would imagine unpleasant graffiti is a fact of life in cells - given the nature of some of their occupants.   Do we seriously expect the police to send in officers with paint and tools every other day?  I suspect the maintenance that would remove the disgusting symbol would have taken place in due course - the inspector just hurried it along.  Perhaps I’m crazy here, but I think it’s rather good that the inspector made the point and the Police responded to it promptly.  Isn’t that the system working the way it should?
  
One last snippet I’d like to consider:-
POLICE kept DNA samples in a fridge alongside a half-eaten take-away meal.
Pity the poor police officer, half-awake after a gruelling shift, stumbling to the fridge to grab the leftovers of Kentucky Fried Chicken she didn’t manage to finish earlier due to her heavy workload.  Bleary-eyed she grabs at the first receptacle and pours its contents into her mouth.  Only to find it was the wrong container she had grabbed.  Deoxyribonucleic Acid and fries.  For an extra 50p she could have gone large on that meal.  But probably would not have wanted to.
  
Frivolity aside, I don’t think I’m quite ready to join the chorus of the disgust over this. First of all, the report is apparently nine months old - and since receiving this somewhat-damning critique the police say they have worked hard to resolve the issues.  Which is what you’d want, right? 
   
Apparently the Police say:-
“Cambridgeshire Constabulary is confident that any alleged behaviour is unrepresentative and untypical of its 1,400 police officers.”
From my own experience of our local police this sounds right to me.

Hat Tip: Cambs Times for this story.

Credit Where Credit Is Due

Credit Where Credit Is Due
I was surprised that an earlier entry here turned into a Cambs Times / Wisbech Standard news item on their website tonight.  I had begun to think that the paper had forgotten about me.   Not to worry though, it appears they still read my blog.  (And very welcome they are too!)
  
I have to be fair - I’ve had a little fun with this branch of the press recently (in response to their fun at my expense in recent weeks) and I suppose they could have dragged me over the coals on this one.  A little judicious editing here and out-of-context quoting there could have made my comments look rather different than their original content. 
 
No sign of anything like that though, the newspapers article was a fair summation of my position.  Which, I suppose, means I may have been unfair in my quickie poll recently.  Never mind, I’ll make it up to them.  I’ll buy them some chocolates at Christmas or something.
  
In the meantime, I have no idea if I am about to come under fire from the public, my colleagues, or indeed the letter-writing power of the opposition (those guys can fill a letter page faster than you can shout: “but I didn’t…” if they want to.  I’ve seen it.  They are like Tasmanian Devils out there.) 

I suppose it’s lucky I have thick skin.

Ps. (Thanks to a commentor, A.Melon, for the heads up on this.) 


A Tasmanian Devil

Dead Tired

Dead Tired
That’s what I am.  As far as my personal business goes this is probably the most important weekend of the year.  I entertain some of my key clients (players of the games my company makes) and strengthen the game’s backbone of participants.  The weekend includes two meal events (one of which is costumed and themed), a huge outside marquee and some tomfoolery with an adult bouncy-castle (you think I’m kidding?  I’m not!)  Tonight I’ll be taking the whole contingent to the Phoenix Chinese Restaurant in Wisbech and that’s where the convention ends.

It’s been a lot of fun and has generated some great business.  Everybody seems to have had a wonderful time.  But now i’m struggling to stay awake, having worked 20-hour days since Friday.

Just going to drink a load of Red Bull to get the energy for tonight and then I think I’ll sleep for about a year.

Being Too Clever For Your Own Good


This post has been submitted by a contributor.  The author of this guest post would like to stress that it an expression of personal opinion and does not represent the opinion, official or otherwise, of the Cambs. County Council, of the owner of this blog (Steve Tierney)  or of any other person or body.  (Future guest posts by other contributors would certainly be seriously considered.  If you are interested - email Steve Tierney with details of what you’d like to write about.)

Being Too Clever For Your Own Good
By Samantha Hoy (FensCF Secretary)

“The council are closing off our road for four weeks to do the paths and road surface. I think I may have messed up their plans when I pointed out that the path in front of our houses belongs to the residents not the council.”

This is what I read on the status of the Facebook profile of an acquaintance. This then caused a huge row between us. Now this is not relevant to Cambs County Council as it’s in Norfolk but I felt the need to vent and a friend’s blog seemed the ideal place to do it.Basically, in Outwell there is a small road which is frequently used as it leads to the school, church and local shops. Because of this use of the road and path, holes have started to form and stones are coming loose.

The council have said that they will come and repair this at the request of the Parish Council. Now one resident who I shall name Bob, pointed out smugly to the council that they have no right to touch the path as the homeowners, whose front doors open directly onto the path in fact own the path. He is correct, it is in their deeds but it left me wondering why on earth would you turn down free repairs?

Many of you will know that it is a great headache to get councils to spend their already stretched budget on repairs, with many people campaigning for months to get a pothole filled. Anyone would have thought Bob would be pleased that he was getting work done, he cant do anything with the path himself (for example: put plants on it) as it is a right of way, so now the responsibility for repairs falls on the owners - and Bob himself.

I talked with him about the reasons, thinking perhaps he had a problem with the inconvenience or the noise, but no none of these are a problem; he just doesn’t want them to do it as it is his property. He says he wants to annoy the council to show them who is boss as they need to: “be told and know my property is my property.”

Now some of you may say: “Why should the council interfere with someone else’s property?” But this path is used by many people everyday and Bob has not asked his neighbours, or pedestrians or businesses on the street - he has just gotten on his high horse and told the council, who were (of course) all too pleased to be given a “get out” on the repair work.

What has Bob won? Perhaps some small amount of pride that he got his own way. But all the mums and children going to school lose and ultimately he will lose when someone falls on that path due to the uneven surface. Who will they sue? The council don’t own the path… Bob may regret the day he decided to be difficult just for the sake of it.

A Weekend Off

A Weekend Off
There will be no further posts this weekend.  I will be at the Madhouse Minicon (a games convention) which I organise once a year for my online games customers / players.  It’s work, because I’m the host and have to keep everybody entertained.  It’s fun, because I love games and that’s what this weekend is all about.  Well - that and some beer.

If you happen to enjoy unusual strategy board and card games, why not pop by?  We’re in the Rose & Crown Hotel, Wisbech, all day Saturday.  There is no cost to come along and join in some games during the day.  You might just like it.
  

Just for fun a “quickie” poll of our own. If the local paper can do it - so can I!