The Running Man
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Published Date:
27/03/2006
Modified Date:
09/10/2006
Ego.....
Published Date:
18/12/2006
Modified Date:
18/12/2006
Running Man 12th December
I have an extremely privileged job. I get to see all the good stuff that goes on in our area. Probably more than anyone else, us snappers get an overview and to meet extraordinary local people. I went to photograph some children at a school in Corby the other day. Their behaviour was exemplary, discipline was strict but the kids were happy and enthusiastic about being in the paper. “Why don’t you write about it then?” said the head teacher when I pointed out that they were a credit to her and the school.
She is absolutely right of course. Corby came in for some bad press last week, so here for what its worth is my two penny worth. In my four years with the ET I have enjoyed meeting some of the warmest friendliest people in Corby, and usually welcomed with a cup of tea.
Every week I seem to photograph successful sportspeople, kids receiving awards for success in any number of fields. There are plenty of companies who are world leaders in their fields. There are endless pubs and clubs raising vast amounts of money for charity and I meet great kids and teachers at every single school I go to.
I could go on, but you get my drift. What a crying shame that a small minority can tar a whole community. I look forward to continuing to work in Corby and watching it grow and improve and to drinking gallons more tea.
Ask someone how they are and the reply is so often “Not bad”. So if its not bad it must be good, right ? Why not say exactly that then. “I feel good today” Even saying it makes you feel better. Sometimes I think we strangle ourselves in negativity, rather than looking for any good in a situation. I mentioned the other week that I had been treated to an excellent coffee, with excellent service in a lovely café.
Tackle thorny subjects like global warming, yob culture, over-population of the county , respite centre closure, police cutbacks, NHS cutbacks and the war in Iraq and there’s silence, not a call, not a letter, nothing. Get the name of a café wrong and hang on to your mailbags. In my haste to recommend this lovely eaterie, I got the name slightly wrong. My error being so slight that it would not take a genius to know exactly where I meant. This did not stop an eagle-eyed reader taking the time and effort to write and point out my mistake. I shall indeed take more care when sharing my enthusiasms in future.
Published Date:
15/12/2006
Modified Date:
15/12/2006
Running man 28th November 2006
A true lifelong friend turned out not to be quite the friend I had thought. Throughout the years my friend has been a shoulder to cry on and a great companion to enjoy all the good times.
We used to enjoy quiet evenings together and get together during the day whenever time permitted. We would regularly enjoy watching a film together on the sofa after the lovely Mrs Jones had gone to bed. She is very understanding and turned a blind eye, not being very enthusiastic in that area herself, and usually leaving me to my own devices.
But my best friend has been going behind my back. Not just behind my back, but on my hips thighs, stomach and man boobs. Who would have thought that good old junk food would turn out to be a grinning, deceitful, alluring and beguiling temptress of a spy killing me softly with her egg foo yong.
When it comes to food, self-denial is destined to be as successful as a bucket of water over a pair of hormone-driven teenagers. The denial just enhances the desire like a greek tragedy. By visualising myself without the extra pounds, rather than the pain of achieving it, puts the comfort of junk-food eating in perspective and makes it easy to just say no. Having real friends like Weight Watchers is a real help.
To continue in this born-again hippy mode, I tried some positive thinking on the run. Rather than focussing on my aching left Achilles tendon, I loudly gave grateful thanks for my pain-free right foot. After three miles the left one completely stopped hurting.
How about that for the power of thought then ? I tried it at home and, wonder of wonders, her loveliness cooked us a fabulous roast tonight. All this without the musical accompaniment of the smoke alarm, although this does usually drown out her Gordon Ramsey impersonation. I have tried positive thought at work, but may have to accept my limitations.
Driving to Corby this week, a car overtook me on the nearside and then swerved in front of me. The new positive thinking me chose to ignore him. Later, like the tortoise, I passed him. A learner driver had stalled at the lights and being so close behind, he had left himself no option but to wait, revving the accelerator of futility. I noticed his bumper sticker: ‘Failure is not an option’. Looks like you just got a new option, Stirling.
Published Date:
28/11/2006
Modified Date:
28/11/2006
Running Man 14th November
Like a James Bond mission, my mobile vibrated close to my heart with a mysterious text message containing just a postcode, a time and room number. Being a wise man, I followed the satellite navigation to a remote village inn, where the sender of the message, that gorgeous woman of my dreams, the lovely Mrs Jones waited demurely. It is a fabulous feeling, after more years of marriage than either of us thought we’d ever achieve, that romance is still alive and kicking butt. Life was back to normal today as she asked if I took sugar in my tea.
Back in the real world, a paramedic friend of mine tells me that the NHS ambulance service that employs him is laying off paramedics. Simultaneously they are employing a whole herd of managers. The word on the street is that they are, and I quote, ‘as much use as deckchairs on the Titanic’ Out of interest I had a quick dekko at the NHS careers website.
Interesting to see that the post advertised for a financial director attracts a salary equivalent to eight qualified paramedics. The vacant post of head of communications is worth a mere six paramedics or goodness knows how many nurses. Strange imbalance of values, seems its not only the health minister who is sickening.
We are at the top of the European tables. Unfortunately it is for having the worst behaved teenagers. In a perverse twist of logic, ASBO’s are seen by their recipients as a badge of honour. In a survey, it turns out that most adults are afraid of teenagers, and would rather turn a blind eye rather than confront them.
A nursery school teacher told me this week, that they are not allowed to tell children when they have been “naughty”. So when do they learn right from wrong ? Where there is no blame, there is no shame as demonstrated daily on chat shows like the Jeremy Kyle show. For those of you who have not seen this insight into everything that is wrong with society, it also provides an insight into where your tax dollars are being wasted.
I was sent to photograph a youth club Halloween party last week and apart from the deafening sound of my career crashing around my ankles, the noise of the verbal abuse and ignorance tolerated by the voluntary staff was inexcusable but apparently not unusual.
Published Date:
14/11/2006
Modified Date:
14/11/2006
Running Man 7th November
Brilliant! I have just realised what is happening. A plan so devious you could give it spots and call it a teenager. We thought they were cutting the police, fire brigade and health service because of central government financial incompetence. What they are actually doing is making the county so completely unattractive, that nobody from the outside would want to live here. Then there will be no need for all the extra houses and we will be spared from John Prescott’s vision of a concrete Northamptonshire. Absolute genius. Let’s hope it works.
A documentary on the box showed that it took seven computers to drive a robot car round a few cones. Numerous lasers, university boffins, satellite systems, months of research and a $2m prize resulted in a car that managed to drive itself uncertainly around a desert course. An amazing testament to the human brain that some drivers manage, with no more than two eyes and half a wit, to drive cars on a daily basis.
Like the knight in the ‘Holy Grail’ hopping on one leg with both arms chopped off shouting ‘tis but a flesh wound’, the police face yet more cuts to their budget as brave King Tony wields his axe and continues to fight the crusades in Far Eastern countries. With one blow from his chopper, 42 coppers disappear from our streets next year. So that is £1m accounted for, what about the other £5m, where does that come from?
We need more police on the roads, that much is obvious. With road traffic collisions becoming an almost daily tragic occurrence, we need grown-up supervision to save us from ourselves. Cameras, with their split second jurisdiction, can never replace the all-seeing presence of a police traffic car. As long as you pass that camera at thirty, it has no discretion over the fact that you have just wiped out a bus queue of nuns, and still have half of them clinging on to your tailpipe as you slide past on your roof – just as long as you are doing the speed limit.
I was driving back from a job the other day, still wearing my reflective yellow jacket, as decreed by Health and Safety. My argument for more money for a greater police presence was won, when uncertain motorists glanced in their mirrors and slowed down, just in case. How about that for multi-tasking ? Evening all.
Published Date:
09/11/2006
Modified Date:
09/11/2006
Dinosaur in the doghouse
I am officially a dinosaur. I am officially in the doghouse. Apparently its too much to expect a teenager to have any manners at all. I welcomed teenage daughter's spotty yobbo boyfriend by putting my hand out and saying 'hello, I'm Michael'. Eventually the penny dropped and he put his hand out and grunted his name.
All this without looking at me or moving from the sofa.
"Don't get up" I said, with the merest hint of scathing sarcasm, none of which penetrated his spot infested hide. My wife, alas, heard and as soon as the coast was clear gave me what for.
Time was a man could expect a level of behaviour in his house, now apparently standards have plummeted to the depths where this scumbag is the norm and I'm the freak.
Published Date:
06/11/2006
Modified Date:
06/11/2006
Robbie Williams
I have read alot of bad reviews for Robbie's latest album, Rudebox. I downloaded it anyway. Am I way out of step with popular culture or is this a great album ? As accused, it is eclectic and self-indulgent - but is that a bad thing ? It gets better with each listen, and as usual makes a great soundtrack to run to. I love it.
Anyone have any thoughts ?
Published Date:
04/11/2006
Modified Date:
04/11/2006