EE-aye addio....we've won the cup !

I'm sad to say Alan Ball has died at the age of 61.

As a boy of 16, not much into football then, I didn't realise the huge contribution Alan Ball, and ten other men, gave to British culture.

A team governed by a huge dictator of a man with "issues" A team made up of personalities mostly, a few shyer men and at least five world class players*. Alan Ball scrapes into position six in terms of his rating at the time, I would say.

Alan always seemed to me to be a man who "belonged" He belonged to Britain. He belonged to 60's culture. He belonged to sporting excellence and he belonged to both straightforward decency and simple honour.

On the radio, it says he was watching, perhaps, one of the finest football matches ever seen in modern British history. And then........expired of a heart attack.

In 1982 Alan's father was killed in terrible car smash in Cyprus.

Sadly, Alan's wife died some 3 years ago with Ovarian Cancer and, it would seem, his daughter was diagnosed with the same thing.

In 2005 Alan sold his World Cup Medal for about 150 thousand pounds to raise money for his family.

In my estimation, what a sad old tale that maybe says something about those public issues that seem to affect our private troubles.

I started watching football as a result of England's World Cup victory and have stuck with it since in a small way until quite recently.

Pip is in my life now and with her growing interest, a spark has blown into a fire of growing passion and I just feel it these days

It would be true to say I organised my head about my relationship with football in talking with Pip. I rather grandly talked about the sociology of football and how it is a metaphor for life. This thought made me ponder more on this thing about sport, and how some of us relate to it.

I have high expectations of it. And expect it to behave honourably. Its governed hugely by money money money. And I go along with this capitalist milch cow because it's football and football is a passion. But don't expect me to condone a system that seems to let down ordinary decent people.

The whole nature of football has changed so much, in so many ways, over the last 30 years.

Today, I feel sure there are many more casualties of the rigorous and fiercely competitive world of the British Premiership. The biggest and best world league by common consent. Certainly, the Premiership is capitalism's victory over the nation state, in the shape of the lamentable and poorly led current English Team.

War baby Alan now seems a reluctant hero compared to our modern boys.

War-baby Alan turn out a traditional, self-effacing man who did not push himself on others. Isn't it a pity that we, you and me, did not see fit to keep such men in our hearts and value them as heroes should be valued ?

Many people have come to talk about him on the radio this morning. We should maybe have talked about him more, before today.

JVIP

*Bobby Charlton, Gordon Banks, Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst. Our fifth did not play on the day but could be thought greater, in some ways, than the others.....Jimmy Greaves.

He's dangerous......just dangerous......!

Paolo Maldini

is widely regarded as the best defender of his era and one of the greatest defenders of all time, maybe only excelled by Franz Beckenbauer.

Throughout his long career, he has remained a one club man with A.C. Milan, where he holds the current captaincy, and has made the most appearances for the club

He is well known for his influential captaincy, ice-cool temperament, well timed attacking runs, outstanding headers, his outstanding ability to play with both feet and flawless defending.

Approaching 40 years of age, he is still playing at the very highest level.
Mr Maldini is plagued with knee joint problems now and (seemingly) keeps going as a result of his huge passion for the game. His style of football is redolent of Roy Keane and Bobby Moore. He is giant of play-making football.
Tonight, Mr Maldini meets Christiano Ronaldo.

Mr Ronaldo.

Is 22 and has had a remarkable 2006/2007 season seeing him win the twin titles of PFA Player of the year and PFA Young Player of the Year Awards this month. Ronaldo is an amazing player of huge talent whom I liken to George Best in his hey day.

In addition to winning the two awards (an accomplishment that has only been matched once) Ronaldo was also named a member of the PFA Premiership Team of the Year, alongside seven of his fellow Manchester United teammates.

The JVIP

Is 56, he’s a little (only a little) over-weight and likes to take things quite casually and carefully. He has two paces. Slow and super-slow.

His brain, has two speeds too. Sharp and super-sharp.

You’ll get the point that he tries, in his silly old way, to outwit people that are quicker than him.

Turning him around to do other things is tricky, however, and rather like manouvering a super-tanker.

People who know him really well liken his behaviour to a big old bear who likes to do what he likes to do and........ everybody......... do it in the time he likes to do it in.

You’ll gather he won’t be rushed. He lives life with a passion.

The Pipster

is 12 years JVIP’s junior. She is a fit, active, clever, brilliant, gorgeous Jack in the Box of a Woman.

She heads up a sizeable charitable organisation and is, in her own way, “important”. She runs, she jumps, she rides a good motor cycle, she plays guitar and sings songs.

She shows an outrageous desire and heat for both intimacy and bedtime behaviour.

She loves life with a passion.

Beginning on this Thursday night. JVIP and Pip are spending some serious time together in what promises to be a great match. Passion, endurance and supreem communication skills are the order of the day.

I’d be interested to know (in advance) what I think the score might be ? I can't work it out though. Who will end up....... "it" ?

What I do know is, I'm looking forward to this tussle.

In other news, I predict Man Utd may come unstuck tonight and, although I pray things will go well for them despite major injury to their defenses, I fear the older and wiser side could prevail despite their bad knees and lack of mobility but devastating tactics. Passion from Old Trafford may win out however.

A Metaphor here ? I couldn't possibly comment.

Love life and love the journey through it is what i say.

JVIP

After the ball was over

There's been much energy dissipated over the appointment of Jacqui Oatley as a football commentator. For those not aware, she's a 5 live presenter at the moment who, I must say, strikes me as a girl who likes her football.

Commentating is a fine art and an appointment of anyone new to the business is a huge source of interest amongst football fans. Comments have been mixed as you might expect. From the down-right rude, through patronising to the "hope she does well" variety.

Thing is, as a commentator, you're always on the edge of Jonathan Ross world. That is, stream of consciousness thinking.

One of the things I try to teach to the men in my work is NOT, "have the thought, say the thing"

Rather, "Have the thought.......... consider the thought.............. ask yourself the question.......... do I need to modify the thought?....... if so what am i going to modify it with?......... "ah, I know, this one" ..........then say the thing.

So, its a complicated old business. How do you get so close to the edge of what your brain is telling you to say and letting yourself flow effectively?

With some difficulty, is the answer. And readers, that is why, some sports commentators either develop an over-stylised way of presenting the action to keep themselves safe, or, as in the case of many, come over like complete twats.

I have lovings and loathings in the world of sports commentary of course and I can say, quite safely, they are a big source of interest to me as a man who stands up and talks for a living.

Pip sometimes looks at me askance when I tell her very passionately, I can't stand him, or that I think she's a silly cow. But yes, sports commentary is an important business.

JVIP's Hall of Fame and Shame

Jonathan Pearce.........................................very wonderful

Alan Parry...................................................very very very wonderful

Martin Tyler...............................................very very very very wonderful

Andy Gray...................................................very very wonderful

Brian Jonston..............................................very very very very wonderful

John Arlott...................................................very very very very wonderful

Geoff Boycott...............................................very very very wonderful

Richie Benaud..............................................very very very wonderful

Brian Moore.................................................very very wonderful

Alan Green.................................................. Not very good

Ian Abrahams..............................................Not too bad

Graham Beecroft........................................Alan Partridge

And then there is "Motty"

who by common consent is simply dreadful on a huge huge huge scale. The BBC have lost thousands of viewers as a result of keeping hold of this buffoon of a man.

I simply cannot watch football with Motty on. Endless anorak schoolboy statistics, interspersed with blaming and shaming remarks, crass, very "little englander" comments about the play and all round fuckwittery of the highest kind.

So he's not on my Christmas card list and should (note i said should) be banned from broadcasting.

Jacqui Oatley will be a welcome face on the telly to me. My feeling is that the advice to all commentators as given by the great Richie Benaud (as the first law of TV commentary) is so important here

"The fewer words, the better"

So on that note

Good luck with it mate !

JVIP

The long and winding road.........

This is my day today so far

Text Pip

Get up

Make Coffee for Thumper

Do paperwork on Computer

Say goodbye to Thumper

Talk to Pip

Read Pip's Blogs

Respond to Pip's blogs

Text Pip

Write own Blog

This is what May Happen today

I will shower.

I will make Brunch

I will drive to work and listen to Talk Sport (John Gaunt show) Awful dreadful rabble rousing man of some feral intelligence touched by the faintest whiff of something not quite nice.

He's not my brand of English anyway. That appears in the picture above. That's where I come from.

Maybe catch a bit of Hawksbee and Jacobs if I'm really lucky. Such a cool show ! Funny, clever, witty, ladish, compassionate, respectful and on the money for me.

Then work. Computer and phones till 4.

Meet colleague and plan session for tonight. Colleague a 26 year old good looking woman who is going places in my organisation big-style. Very supportive and lively co-worker who I learn something about every time I meet her. Amazing at her job. Eager to learn and teach the men.

Eat tea. probably a Chinese thing because I'm away from home and hate cooking at work. Nothing is clean and it's just too difficult mostly.

Deliver group work programme when the men get in at 7.

2 and a half hours of the following

Leading, supporting, mentoring, bullying,loving, hating, delivering, walking, talking, making flamboyant gestures, acting, pleading, expression both praise and condemnation.

Clear up. Talk to colleague about issues of night.

Walk her to her car

Walk to my car, Drive home. Talk Sport again.It'll be the end of a football show probably with Ray Houghton and Gabrielle Marcotti both are really competent and knowledgeable men and know their subject really well. Sometimes they are joined by Jason Cundy who, somehow I don't care for. Finally and magnificently, you have Kelly Dalglish who, despite her very short biography on wikipeadia, is a woman of some football stature these days.

Talk to Pip. Tell her about my day. She will tell me about her day. We exchange everything on the phone. We are getting good at doing it together. Most factual information I get from Pip is on the phone. Her presence makes getting facts difficult because my mind is always so full when I'm with her. She's a huge influence on the way I think now. We will also talk about blogs and football. She's taken on both Fan-dom and Fem-dom very seriously indeed. A compelling mixture. As she is with everything else really.

Get home. Thumper may be up. We will say hi. Be Bee beep is here at the moment so talk will be light and bright.

I'll feel exhausted because of the group. I will drink a glass of milk maybe and maybe have cereal. Grape Nuts probably. I might, or might not, have a glass of scotch.

Text Pip and say I love her

Go to sleep

JVIP

Communication Breakdown....always the same

Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been 4 days since my last confession

And confession it is. So much to talk about and yet so little time in which to concentrate.

So, despite the title, this is about food again. You'll understand at the end.

Two quick stories before my denumon

Story one

In another life, many years ago and in another world, a woman I knew really well told me a childhood tale. Imagine the scene, in a car, on the way to the seaside. Mum and Dad in the front, kids (2) in the back.

Daughter to Father. "Daaaaaad.......please don't make so much noise, eating those crisps!"

Mother to Daughter " he's not eating crisps darling, it's a tomato"

Story Two

The well known DJ and genuinely wonderful Radio Host Danny Baker talks about the ex husband of Lisa Minneli, David Guest in these terms.

"I was sat in this restaurant and David was at a table close to me. I became aware of a clucking noise coming from the close by table. I realised suddenly the noise I was hearing emanated from the mouth of David Guest (ex husband of Lisa Minelli)"

On Danny's show David, therefore, is known invariably as "Cluck Cluck"

The denumon

You'll appreciate Pip and I don't live together and quite a bit of our communication (there's the clue) takes place on the phone. The final part of today's offering, therefore, takes the following title and descends into darkness.

Things Pip eats when she's on the phone to me

Macaroni Cheese

Boiled Egg

Mashed Potato

Broccoli

Cow Cheese

Goat's Butter

Toast

Banana Custard

Crumpets

Goat's cheese

Galaxy Fruit and Nut

Nuts

Raisins

Sweets

Chewing Gum

Chocolate Pudding

Smoked haddock

Pasta

Salad

Tomatoes!

and

After Eights.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking....."that's a busy little mouth."

I'd say,

"Fair play to you love"

But it is well funny

JVIP

This is the Captain of your Ship.....

On February 16 1987, myself, my wife and our two children came home on leave home to England from Germany on the Herald of Free Enterprise. We returned to Europe, via Zeebrugge some 10 days later, nine days before hell broke loose.

On March 6th 1987 the same ship sank just off the coast of Belgium at 6am in the morning.
Andrew Parker lay down and used his body as a human bridge - a feat which earned him the George Medal for gallantry in that year's Queen's Honours List.

In spite of his bravery, Parker has reported feeling terrible guilt for being the one who survived.

The tragedy produced poignant heroes like Michael Skippen, the head waiter, who died while getting passengers to safety.

Equally, there were stories of people climbing over each other to get to life jackets, of children being shoved out of the way. Humans in extremis behave as they do in everyday life: sometimes terribly well, and sometimes only terribly. In general, though, we choose to focus on the heroes, tell their stories.

In some way, perhaps, we hope that we would be like them.
Risto Ojassaar was one of the few survivors of the Estonia, the ferry which sank in the Baltic in 1994. Interviewed in 1997, he described scaling the floor of his cabin in a ship which had listed so far that the decks were vertical walls. Finally making it out, he turned to follow a swarm of desperate passengers heading to the left. Heeding his instinct, he changed his mind and turned to the right. Unlike the crowd who had gone left, he survived.

As with the tales from the last minutes of the Titanic, the Estonia's sinking is full of tender, terrifying moments: a mother tries to climb the vertical floor of the bar with her adult son until, exhausted, she tells him she cannot go on, that he must go on without her.

Refusing his pleadings, she calls to him that he must survive, and live well, live well enough for two. Sobbing, he goes on, and survives. More than 850 people drowned on the Estonia, the majority trapped on the ship as it went down. Most of the survivors were young men, fit and strong. Older people, women and children simply lacked the strength to get out.

When only a small child,, I saw the film A Night to Remember for the first time.. I remained mostly silent throughout, busily planning an escape route and survival strategy for the imminent likelihood of my being stuck on a large cruise liner, about to go under.
By the time I saw the first of many reruns of the Poseidon Adventure, I was taking detailed notes: stay near the stairwells - you can use them to climb to the upper decks; get a cabin near the lifeboats and hang around them at all times; don't sleep - as soon as you do, the ship is bound to crash into something and you'll lose valuable seconds in getting to the lifeboats first; and if you can't get to the lifeboats, jump. But take a chair and a life jacket with you. Actually, the chances of my being on anything more impressive than a dinghy at the local reservoir were tiny. But that was irrelevant. I couldn't help but imagine myself as those on board - survivors and victims.

The sinking of ships such as the Titanic holds many of us captive in films (even the overblown James Cameron affair had millions sobbing into their popcorn), photographic images and incidental anecdotes which have become part of our memory. Tragedy often has a mythical power - and any shipwreck is tragic - but we choose which tragedies affect us. The stories are as familiar as breath: the musicians playing in the last moments; the steerage passengers locked behind bars; the steward firing into the crowd; the Astors insisting on dying together.

We hear the details and, as with Gestalt therapy, we imagine ourselves into the role: I am the steward who will survive at all costs; I am the woman who cannot find her child; I am the man stepping aside for an older man. In doing so, we test out our versions of ourselves, good and bad.

JVIP With Acknowledgment to KH

The female of the species is more deadly than......

Ok, so now we know. Brian Aldridge is in big trouble.

Over the years I have become by turn, infuriated and bemused with Brian’s behaviour, but recently, have a growing respect for the way The Archers script writers have finally recognised the enduring need to have positive male role-models facing real difficulties in popular drama.

Brian is a philanderer, he is a snob, he is a agri-businessman who uses the land for his own personal gain.

But he is also Father to Ruari

So, the said Father of the child, is faced with picking up his responsibilities again. Interestingly, Brian has always taken his responsibilities seriously in the respect of being a Father, given it was Siobhan who decided to run away to Germany after the furore of their very public and passionate affair.

Recently then, this most compelling of little soap operas, has been visited by a moral dilemma of an altogether different kind.

Jenny, Brian’s wife, has so far refused to have contact with the child Ruari. This, despite the fact Siobhan, Brian's ex-lover is dying of cancer.

The question is, will Jenny relent and take the child into her family when Siobhan dies ?

Watch this space.

To readers who are alert, you'll know that Absent Fathers are a hotly contested issue in Britain.


There is also controversy about how people with brown skins manage their lives in this respect.


What is for certain is that Men, when they feel under attack, will fight back with what they have.

Examples of this exist everywhere; none more so than in the Newspapers

and in the offices of CAFCASS throughout Britain

Some groups of men even have their own web sites now,

What is for certain is that…..goodness….I hope Brian gets it right and (it’s a big ask) Jenny supports him through this time.

JVIP

Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home

Slavery, generally defined, refers to the systematic exploitation of labor for work and services without consent and/or the possession of other persons as property.

Britain, as we know, has a long history of using people in this way. Tony Blair, even apologising for it recently. Goodness !

The interviews I’ve seen about this are polarised between “It’s been a long time coming” and “What’s the point of that, it’s History now ?”

Interesting that people are even “Bovvered” to be honest.

Anyway, as a result of the British Empire and the domination of half the world by Britain in the late C18th, all of the C19th, and some of the C20th, It is arguable this country has now further used its international strength to seek out people from other countries , give them legal status and citizenship here and then compel them to work in jobs that benefit us all but have no status.

Mainstream politicians like Tony have, over the last 20 years, publicly espoused the sociological doctrine of Multiculturalism, to somehow explain or understand how this British society is developing.

Founded on what might be seen as a “Melting Pot” metaphor, Multiculturalism is a sociological idea that advocates modern society embracing distinct cultural groups with equal cultural and political status.

Multiculturalism is the term used to describe the cultural and ethnic diversity of a nation and its advocates argue that diversity is a positive force for a society’s nationhood or cultural diversity.

It is unfortunate, therefore, that both here in Britain, in Europe and in America,

Multiculturalism, as a doctrine has failed.

There is a developing dislike to the idea and policies of multiculturalism in Europe especially, because of how it actually creates friction within society.

Recently, therefore, in the face of mounting criticism from sociologists and social commentators, eager beaver politicians, (one eye on the polls) have dumped the doctrine. Tony now talks, rather grandly, instead about “our national heritage”

Interesting to see how the engines of capitalism in the shape of multi-nationals have won again of course. There being always a need for a “reserve army of labour”.

Arguably for me, the modern slave trade is now played out across the western world, in many different ways and in many guises as a result.

Any brief inspection of the grass roots in the public services, the building trade and associated service industries will show us these occupations are now dominated by people who are living here as a result of the nation’s historical “heritage”.

Their work is hard, dirty and invariably under-paid. Workers compete for jobs with other workers who reside in Britain illegally. The resultant contest drives wages ever lower.

The result is little short of slavery and is Britain's shame.

In other news,

A 13-year-old boy has been charged with murdering Paul Erhahon, who was stabbed fatally near his home in east London.

Paul, a Black boy, was aged 14 and died in his Mother's arms outside their home in Leytonstone, after the attack on Friday night.

His 15-year-old friend was also seriously injured in the incident and is in a stable condition in hospital.

Two 14-year-olds arrested in connection with Paul's death remain in police custody. Another suspect, aged 19, has been released on police bail.

This attack follows the killing of at least five other black male teenagers in London in the past two months.

Swing low, sweet chariot,Comin' for to carry me home

Swing low, sweet chariot,Comin' for to carry me home.

I looked over Jordan,And WHAT did I see,

Comin' for to carry me home,

A band of angels comin' after me,

Comin' for to carry me home.

If you get there before I do

Comin' for to carry me home

Tell all my friends I'm comin' too

Comin' for to carry me home.

JVIP

Fox on the run

Fifteen British sailors and marines held captive by Iran for nearly a fortnight arrived home a few days ago.

Revolutionary guards seized these Marines on March 23. 2007 in waters just outside the Shatt al-Arab waterway separating Iraq and Iran as they searched an Indian-registered vessel.

Iran said the crew's two rigid inflatable boats had strayed into Iranian waters. Britain insisted they had remained well inside Iraqi naval territory at all times.

Upon release, news photos at the time showed the sailors dressed in Iranian-provided suits. And a pretty picture they looked too.

The British Airways flight from Tehran touched down at Heathrow at 12:02pm. Soon afterwards, the 14 men and one woman emerged from the Aircraft, now dressed in uniform.

At the very moment the group's plane arrived in London, Tony’s generally conciliatory tone towards Iran of recent days took a noticeably tougher turn, and he warned in a statement outside No 10 that "elements of the Iranian regime" were still arming insurgents inside Iraq.

With the immediate crisis over, Tony lost no time in sending the message that his willingness to talk about the captives did not mean Britain was softening its attitude towards Iran, which he hs accused previously of arming and assisting insurgents inside Iraq. "The international community has got to remain absolutely steadfast in enforcing its will, whether it is in respect of nuclear weapons or whether it is in respect of the support of any part of the Iranian regime for terrorism, particularly when directed against democratic governments," he said.

The tone was in marked contrast to comments Tony made when the captives were still in Iran, in which he hailed their imminent release and stressed Britain held no "ill will" towards the Iranian people.

Tony had expressed annoyance at the way the captives were repeatedly paraded on Iranian television to express their contrition at, they said, having entered Iranian waters.

Following Mr Ahmadinejad's announcement yesterday, the 15 Britons were shown greeting him warmly on the steps of the presidential palace in…..er…… those Tehran- made suits.

So………it’s a murky world, not made any better by the MOD’s recent statement these poor sailors would be able to sell their stories to the press. Goodness!

Something dark lingered in my head about the way the released Marines looked on the day of their release, however.

And then it came to me.

In another world and in another time, my lovely Pip adheres, somewhat obsessively, to the philosophy of “Hash House Harriers”

This is an international group of people who get involved in a compelling mixture of running and drinking clubs.

The philosopy of a hash run is for one or more hashers to lay out a running trail (which may include false trails, short cuts and trail breaks) to keep the pack together regardless of fitness levels to follow the trail to a shedload of beer.

I’m led, by PIP, to understand the “HHH” philosopy has been frequently described as 'a drinking club with a running problem'

The club’s general principles are these

• To promote physical fitness among members


• To get rid of weekend hangovers


• To acquire a good thirst and to satisfy it with beer


• To persuade the older members they are not as old as they feel
  

Good objectives all, but importantly, from this correspondant’s perspective, “Hashers” seem to have forgotton a final, fith and important objective in their rules of engagement.

From the photo’s I’ve seen, they also need think pretty seriously about including

• Get your clothes from Tehran
  

JVIP

There's a tiny house

Once upon a time there was a young woman who looked to the stars and thought powerful things. She thought of freedom and liberty, she thought of sunshine, justice for all and an end to suffering.

She thought of changing the world.

In the course of her life she would help lots of people see things in new ways. She would light candles of truth in darkened corners. She would raise hope in men who would otherwise have fallen to the side of the road. She would raise children to believe in the value of honesty. She loved the people in her life with a fierce pride.

Sometimes, when things felt impossible she had to look deep inside herself for courage.

Sometimes this sensitive and kindly girl felt unloved and under-valued by others.

When others didn't understand her, this hurt her. She often felt alone.

When others doubted her, when they said she was wrong, When others were so cruel she felt like dying; even then, on one miserable day in May when her life felt like it was at an end, she reached out to a poor soul and said

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and conveniences, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy"

I shouldn't think the man has ever forgotten what that felt like.


JVIP

You'll never walk alone

Nicely done Liverpool. Three Nil away from home to PSV Eindhoven.

The Reds played very well. Hostile, fluent and determined. Raphael Benitez justifiably proud of his Mid-Field General, Captain and Leader Steven Gerrard. My view is that whilst there are sterner tests ahead, the momentum may be with Liverpool. Semi Finals, here we come then.

The fans, of course, were ecstatic. Listening to Liverpool fans takes me right back to my adolescence and how I remember that particular chanting, so familiar of the old Kop.

Once, on a Cup Final day in 1965, I can see myself now watching Roger Hunt and Ian St John defeating Don Revie's Leeds Utd. Billy Bremner a picture of Scots hostility. The fans going bonkers and chanting "Ee aye addio we've won the cup"

See here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ee_Aye_Addio and interestingly, for roots in British folk culture here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Farmer_in_the_Dell

Over the years Reds fans have adopted another tune too. Everyone knows this song, made famous in the movie Carousel. "You'll never walk alone" is one of the most powerful sports anthem of all.

Of course this is how I felt after talking to Pip on the Internet last night. A day fraught with angst and worry. A day of feeling lonely and disconnected and not really knowing what to say or do.. Overwhelming tiredness had engulfed us both. We chatted crazily into the night, cheating sleep. At once, crazy and meaningful and, at other times, mad and stupid. Always loving. Always affirming. Always trying.

The words of that distant 50's musical never had more meaning for me

JVIP

There's a little old train a-coming

7 years is a long time to be in pain and my friend at work has just that deal going on.

Willow and I have shared an office for the last 5 years. Never a cross word, never a moment of tension. In her life away from work, Willow is, as Madonna has it, in trouble deep. Trapped in a loveless relationship, loathing her partner's controlling ways and staying in place because of her son. "Only one year away from GCSE's"

Except that recently, her boy (15) has taken her to one side and said "does it have to be like this Mum; cant we move away from Dad ?"

Did Willow jump, or was she pushed? Did she so engineer this situation so it would lead to the pathway out of hell and onto the road to sanity?

Who cares ?

Fact is, she's leaving the man sometime soon. Or so she says anyway. Many are the days I've come home over the last few years and talked to Thunper about the current Willow situation. My usually understanding companion becomes frustrated (as the non-involved third party often does) by the "is she-isn't she" nature of the dynamic. I say, "It'll happen one day, you'll see"

Yesterday, Willow and I sat in our little office, as we do, and did conversation rehearsal around "I'm leaving you"

The point I'm making is that it was so easy (for me) to suggest ways to make it the best possible conversation that would get the point across to her partner without being overly hurtful and avoiding words said in spite. Covering all the angles is what we do best at in my job......mostly.

As I left for home, Willow looked at me in the eye and said, "I'll always be here for you too buddy"

Don't you just know, that friends are really important at times like this

JVIP

There was a Lover and his Lass

Apparently, a common urban legend says that duck quacks do not echo. This has proved to be false.

Some research into this subject says bird's calls will bounce off hard surfaces in just the same way as with all sounds. Research discovers, however, a kernel of truth to the myth that explains how it arose in the first place.

Science now says the way a duck quacks, with a long "aaaacckkk" on the end of the call, tends to mask any echoes that are produced.

People in white coats used powerful computer tools to analyse Duck noises and simulate them in different environments - such as in front of a cliff face or by a small flowing stream.

Scientists observed, "What all this shows is that the duck's quack fades away but it sounds like it quacks for a long time. Because the duck's quack is rather quiet anyway and the echo comes on the back of a fading sound field, it is as if the echo is being masked. You just don't hear the echo very well and that's probably how this urban myth arose."


So now, you know. You heard it here first!


Sat by a small stream with Pip yesterday, we watched a little duck society go about their daily business with some gusto.

Swimming, …er……ducking, eating bread, frightening small children, quaking, fighting and arguing.


Watching a big old colourful drake following a plump little duck around reminded me it is spring. Forsythia (named after William Forsyth 1737-1804) is out. Primroses and Daffodils are everywhere. It was a lovely bright and meaningful day.

With spring, comes my amazement in nature’s growth. It is a time when men and women’s heart's turn to love. It is a time to reflect on the world’s sincere and honest beauty.


Pip held my freezing hand in hers. A watery sun shone on cold water. We watched that big old drake looking amorously at that pretty little duck and we both thought the same thing………………………“fair play to you mate”


JVIP