2009 predictions for the year ahead
2009 predictions by Quincy Twinge, clairvoyant and TV aerial installer (he can see your future as you watch it on Freeview)
January
Driffield celebrates the birth of a new year - it's twins, separated at birth by a mere microsecond. Much head wetting goes on. Fighting breaks out among those who object to having their follicles moistened. Three days of yoghurt juggling follow.
Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling move to Kelk and Thwing respectively. Gordon buys a house under the alias of Ernest Pogworth (architectural line drawings a speciality) and Alistair joins a local amateur dramatic group where he is hailed as a natural.
Meanwhile, the Americans and the Russians continue to run the UK, so no one really notices much change. Log on to the MI6 web site for further details.
February
Driffield town council announces plans to take over the parishes of Garton, Nafferton, Hutton Cranswick, Langtoft and St Affrique, France. An artist's impression goes on display, showing new offices at Kelleythorpe which would house a clerk, 10 deputy clerks, 400 tidy team members, two official food tasters, a linguist and a chauffeur. It also shows a room to house the mayoral jewels and a confinement cell for dissident rate payers. Premium rate phone lines are introduced for anyone who wants to contact the council and they are answered by computers which give callers an endless choice of options without ever putting them through to a real person. The council offices are closed to people who visit in person. Above the door is a sign which says: "God not welcome here".
March
Banks refuse to give anyone access to their own savings unless they ask really, really nicely...and smile. High interest rate accounts are replaced by deal-or-no-deal accounts in which customers are offered the chance to win back a portion of their own money from a banker who is only available by premium rate phone. The Driffield Times re-names its proposed Service with a Smile competition to Service with a Sneer.
April
The Government bans the following words without explaining why: Chuffed, Queen, Weevil, crepe, deoxyribonucleicacid, Government, inquiry, ferret, sandshoe, septum, beach, lightning (as we have repeated the banned words here, expect arrests to follow). Ministers encourage use of the words kerfuffle, diatribe, whelk, expansive, toewax, helplessness, chive and gruntled (so no one gets to diss gruntled)
May
The continuing credit crunch means that newspapers are forced to cut back on the number of words they print. Edicts are issued urging reporters to use shorter words and phrases to save ink and to leave a gap
between
each
sentence so that people don't notice the difference. Which, of course, they do.
June
Breaking news: A policeman is seen on foot patrol in Driffield by a puzzled member of the public.
Oh, sorry, panic over, it turns out he was only going to collect a sandwich. And a can of Vimto (non carbonated).
July
A large number of whelks escape from a high security seafood farm near Kelk. They try to hide out by mingling with colonies of snails, figuring that the trail each species leaves will be similar enough to confuse pursuers. Inter breeding takes place, leading to the creation of a new mollusc - the snelk - which looks like a bogey in a crash helmet and smells like Grimsby in March. The Kelk whelk is regarded as an aphrodisiac in parts of Asia, where the resulting supply shortage leads to population fall. Locally, no one really cares about the mass break out, although there is mild internet chatter as the people who compile the Oxford English Dictionary try to decide the collective noun for whelks, snelks and people from Grimsby.
August
Ordinary people take to their beds to avoid the sounds of harvest and town councillors take their annual seaside holiday at Robin Hoods Bay, where they seem to recognise some of the seafood. Nothing much happens in Driffield, which is quite normal.
September
People pitch themselves enthusiastically into a new event called puzzle day during which everyone changes jobs and family with a random passer by...estate agents become priests, bakers build roads, accountants become opera singers and that little man with the small dog who usually sits on the Market Place reading the Sporting Life at 3pm on Tuesdays is asked to become Prime Minister for the week while David Cameron goes on holiday to Chipping Sodbury. One or two nice new policies are introduced, such as the one which dictates that anyone who uses the word money must buy a freshly baked ice finger for their neighbour.
October
The Germans demand exclusive use of the word October and the Government agrees as it will save money. Protests are lodged by firms which produce diaries, calendars and those little digital clocks which control thermo nuclear weapons. A compromise is reached whereby the month formerly known as October becomes known by a symbol, only we cannot show you what it is as it doesn't yet appear on the buttons of a computer keyboard.
November
A national debate begins amid confusion over the difference between the word wimple and the name whipple. Nuns cannot become involved because they have taken a vow of silence and ice cream manufacturer Mr Whippy's opinions are disregarded as too flaky (he had hundreds and thousands apparently). Arguments conclude with a decision that wimple is defined as an American pathologist who shared a 1934 Nobel Prize for discovering that a diet of liver relieves anaemia. The future for nuns could get messy.
December
To make sure that people can remember what happens this Christmas, the world begins en masse switching to bottled watch as the tipple of choice. This means that most people will see dawn for the first time on December 25 and will enjoy their yuletide dinner minus the usual waves of nausea. Sprouts will become vegetables of beauty, like shiny little green jewels. Brewers, keen not to miss a marketing opportunity, start selling water in cans under brand names such as Bitter Springs, Shandy-free-shandy and Lager Lout Lite. No one can remember who came up with the idea of an alcohol free Christmas but everyone assumes it must have been a drunk who justified the event by claiming: "Well, it sounded like a good idea at the time". Ugly people express remorse that they will miss out on sex unless opticians begin to prescribe beer goggles.
Published Date:
12/01/2009
Modified Date:
12/01/2009
Do we need a town council?
DO we need a town council?
That's the vexed question I have been asking myself all week.
On balance, the answer is most definitely NO - we don't NEED a town council.
Okay, it does do good work - sometimes.
It campaigns when campaigns are needed to improve the town. But a chamber of trade would be just as effective. Or a civic society.
And they wouldn't cost us money
That's my beef with the town council - the money it spends on things which are quite simply not necessary.
There are hundreds of examples of this...
But, I'll just give you a few.
The new offices are the biggest waste of money. They are superflous. The town council said it had outgrown its old office but this isn't true. It was cramped, but that's all. Not too small by any stretch of the imagination.
Now the clerk and her assistant use only a small portion of the new offices, perhaps a third.
Another third of the new office is compeletely un-used, save for displaying a couple of leaflets, and the final third is occupied by someone totally unconnected with the town council.
Our town councillors don't even meet at their new offices - well not often anyway - as they still use the Community Centre...even though the new offices are large enough for all their meetings. How much money does that waste.
Of course, the problem is that the money the town council spends is not theirs. It's mine. And yours. But it is treated as though it is theirs.
For example, this week, councillors agreed to buy a gazebo. £400 it will cost. Nice, but not necessary.
And we pay thousands and thousands of pounds in wages for a Tidy Team we should not have to pay for. I have no problem with the Tidy Team themselved as they work hard and do a bloody good job.
Only, they should be employed by the East Riding of Yorkshire Council and not the town council as many of the jobs they do are the ERYC's responsibility. Grass cutting, repairs, property mainenance, keeping the streets clean etc
So, we are paying two lots of council tax for the same end result.
The town council also took over responsibility from the ERYC for the market, for public toilets and work at the cemetery. Why? These are all things which were being administered by the ERYC and for which we are now effectively paying twice (anyone who doubts this should check their council tax bills for the years in which the town council took responsibility for certain functions. They will notice that tax did not go down in those years. It went up each and every year, as did the town council precept or separate levy on the people of Driffield).
So, where's all this moaning leading.
Well, here's a suggestion.
Let's suspend the town council for a couple of years. Disband it, and see if it makes any difference to the town, its appearance and the way we live.
The credit crunch is crunching. We don't have the money for luxuries such as a town council.
If we all save a couple of quid a week it could make a big difference in the months to come. It will buy a bread loaf. Or a bottle of milk.
Think about it and get back to me.
If I get enough support I may just start a campain - do you think the town council would support me?
Published Date:
09/05/2008
Modified Date:
09/05/2008
Vandals and hooligans
Oh joy of joys - the clocks have gone forward, signalling the start of ever lighter nights.
And for Driffield, the change of seasons also marks another milestone - the beginning of the vandalism season.
For the next six months, the town can expect to witness gangs of kids roaming the streets, smashing bottles and windows, getting drunk, damaging cars and spray painting walls.
It happens every year.
A good old fashioned copper once told me that the most successful policemen were Sergeant Wind and PC Rain - and he was right.
Nothing keeps the hoodies and hoolies, thieves and bandits at bay better than bad weather.
So light nights are bad news all round in this era of modern policing, in which the police are seldom seen or heard.
This year, my first experience of vandalism season started within hours of the clock going forward when a teenage scroat in a souped up bacofoil bullet parked outside my house with his stereo cranked up to industrial volume.
I could feel the sound as it vibrated through the brickwork. He was only there for 15 minutes but it was long enough to make my blood boil.
I could have called the police, but what would be the point? Nothing would have come of it.
So, a great start to vandalism season then.
One minor but damn annoying incident, no damage.
Restult!
How I look forward to the return of Sgt Wind and PC rain.
Published Date:
01/04/2008
Modified Date:
01/04/2008
Drink drivers are scum
I hate drink drivers.
In many ways, they are the scum of the earth.
Obviously, they are not in the same criminal league as murderers and the like.
But they are up there at the top of the second division.
Because they are potential killers.
And when they cause an accident, they never die themselves. It is always someone else who suffers.
Yet it's all so unnecessary.
There is no need to drink and drive, just as there is no need to burgle old ladies or take heroin.
It's simply a selfish act by people who cannot be bothered to walk to the pub or to take a taxi home or do not have the will power to order a soft drink.
Whatever, there is no excuse.
A bloke once said to me "I feel such a prat if my mates are drinking pints and I'm on Coke".
Well whoop-de-doo, we can't have that, now can we.
Male pride hurt.
Disaster.
But I bet those so-called mates wouldn't be mates for very long if our drinker ran over one of them and crushed his head into the Tarmac on the way home after a drinking session.
Another reason why people drink and drive is that there is no real deterrent.
For one thing, they are unlikely to get caught unless they crash.
There are so few coppers on our roads these days that people can drink drive to their heart's content, perhaps with the exception of Christmas, when our boys in blue have a little purge before disappearing once again into the shadows.
And even if our drink driver does get caught he or she is unlikely to get much of a punishment. A short ban, a few quid fine and Bob's your aunt Jessie, they're back behind the wheel in the blink of a double Jameson's.
Which is why I would like to see the law toughened up.
I firmly believe that drink drivers who are caught should be banned for life. No excuses, no second chances - forever, a one time punishment which lasts for eternity.
There are far too many cars on the roads now, so this is a glowing opportunity to make sure that the vehicles which do remain are piloted by responsible people who obey the laws of the land.
Banned drivers should also be banned from drinking ever again - which would probably hit people even harder than the driving ban.
And, in order to make sure that both bans are effective, banned drivers should be subject to regular blood tests to make sure that they are not drinking. Furthermore, these criminals should pay for blood tests themselves - plus an extra few quid - so the cost is not a burden on the government and the addtional money could be used to put more coppers on the beat.
Bingo - problem solved.
Ask me another..........
Published Date:
15/02/2008
Modified Date:
15/02/2008
When did you last see a policeman?
I am a big supporter of the police.
I think that the boys and girls in blue do a difficult job in difficult circumstances.
I think that they deserve every penny of the pay rise for which they have been fighting - backdated.
And I know that if I was the victim of a serious crime they would work hard to bring the culprits to book.
But, I think that the police are hampered at every step by bureaucracy and pointless paperwork.
I also think that this bureaucracy stops the the police doing their job in the way that the public want them to do it - by means of largely high visibility policing.
Whenever I speak to a grass roots copper - which is quite ofen - they say they would rather be out patrolling the streets than sitting in an office doing paperwork.
I am sure that most people feel the same way about our crimefighters
Which is why I have been conducting a little experiment called "When did you last see a policeman?"
The rules are very simple - to spot a policeman (not a PCSO or traffic warden but a proper bobby) on foot, patrolling an area other than the town centre at any time, day or night.
I remember when I was a kid, I used to watch Dixon of Dock Green. I realise now that it was a make believe programme but it reflected real life and always showed a copper on foot, walking the streets, checking doors and and making sure that businesses were secure.
Now, many years later, I am a big dog who who is old enough to be out late at night or up early in the mornings and the people I see most at those odd times are the ones who are likely to be up to no good, in their baseball caps and hooded tops.
I never see a copper... ever....well hardly ever. And only then, in a car.
Which brings me back to my experiement.
Since I started cop-spotting on January 1, I haven't seen one bobby on the beat on foot - day or night - other than in the town centre. Not one. Not even in the distance.
What's more, I don't know anyone else who has.
On the other hand, a little egret was seen last year at the Tophill Low nature reserve - and they are VERY rare.
Published Date:
12/02/2008
Modified Date:
12/02/2008
It has ter b U
The Driffield Post reports today that plans are in the offing (what the hell's an offing?) for yet another supermarket in Driffield, which will take the total of plans now being offed for new supermarkets to six - two for Tesco, two for the former cattle market site and one for a new Aldi on the Viking Centre site.
The latest idea is to build a new superstore and petrol station off Skerne Road.
Those involved in the scheme will not say which supermarket is involved, only that it is one of the big four.
Obviously, they are patting their back pockets in anticipation but in all honesty, Skerne Road seems to be a far better location that that proposed with regard to any of the other plans.
The Cattle Market won't work because the roads leading to it are too small and too dangerous to take the heavy traffic (especially trucks) attracted by a supermarket, the Viking Centre is partly outside the official council designated shopping area for Driffield and George Street, where Tesco wish to expand, is too small for the size of store being proposed.
I believe that supermarkets should be outside town and Skerne Road seems to be as good as it gets, although that road also needs widening, so the houses along the right hand side as you drive towards Skerne will need knocking down. But that's a simple enought task. No one lives there anyway.
Published Date:
11/01/2008
Modified Date:
11/01/2008
Favourite Limericks wanted
I need your favourite limerick as I hope to donate a number of them to the town council. It will give them something to talk about other than hanging baskets.
Here's mine:
There was a young lady from Bude
Who went for a swim in a pond.
A man in a punt
Stuck his pole in the water
And said:
"You can't swim here"
"It's private".
Here's one from Jill Pick, of the Driffield Times (she needs medial help, I think you will agree)
There was a young man from Darjeeling
Who got on a bus to Ealing
It said on the door:
'Don't spit on the floor'
So he lay down and spit on the ceiling
And here's one from Suzie Towne, who lives in a village but likes big cities.
There was a young worm that squirmed
Oddly its hair was permed
We told it to shoo
Til our faces were blue
But alas it always returned.
Published Date:
08/01/2008
Modified Date:
24/01/2008
From A to B - a pet keeper's guide
I like animals.
I eat loads of them, wear clothes made from them and occasionally ride on contraptions pulled by them. Such as trains. Come on, think about it - horsepower...try and stick with me.
I couldn't live without animals and they couldn't live without me (they would starve for one thing and foranother thing they would never be allowed to drive unsupervised, although my cat is almost there).
Which has set me wondering about Bees (see the subtle link there), although that new film about a Hull City supporter who is an irritating pain in the backside and can fly probably also had something to do with it.
Bees are great. They wander around aimlessly during warm weather, bumping in to things, helping flowers to have sex, and making honey.
They also buzz a lot. Isn't that marvellous?
No wasted time in trying to express themselves with words, they just buzz - happy, sad, angry, loved up. There's a buzz for ever bee emotion.
And no one seems to have a bad word to say about bees (except for those people who have been stung by one - probably their own fault any way. It's never wise to ignore a "get out of the way" buzz)
It would be wonderful to see bees all the year round. Drinking and making merry, buzzing and making honeycombs from old egg cartons.
So I propose to see if I can get somone to set up an indoor hive, where bees can buzz all winter while warmed by central beeting and fed by flowers from Inter-Flora.
Sounds like a plan - perhaps even a tourist attraction.
Burton Agnes Hall, for example, could have its own bee room. People would travel from miles around to visit the attraction. Well, at least from Driffield.
Bee happy. Sting would visit. Bet ya, he would
Join me next time for ants and how they should open a restaurant with Hugh Feanley-Whittingstall and Ainsley Parriot.
In the meantime, I shall be mostly designing wallpaper.
Published Date:
07/01/2008
Modified Date:
07/01/2008