web analytics

Modern life

You are currently browsing articles tagged Modern life.

black and white“Colour television! Bah, I won’t believe it until I see it in black and white.”

Samuel Goldwyn

Not in this case a nostalgic look back at the cinema of a bygone age – nor indeed a reference to the school colours of my erstwhile employers…

…but in this case a brace of ‘his and her’ automotive conveyances!

I made reference but a few posts back to the fact that the Girl was in the process of having to change her mode of transport in the light of her renewed need to commute – with a view to keeping herself safe and sound in the face of the somewhat erratic driving habits of some other users of the ‘Pat Bay’ highway here on the Saanich peninsula… this being – of course – a move that I endorse whole-heartedly.

Those who know the Girl will also know that she is not one to hang around when the mood is upon her. Sure enough on Friday last we drove up-island with a view to investigating a low-mileage pre-owned (so much better than ‘second-hand’ or ‘used’ whilst not being quite as wince-inducing as ‘pre-loved’!) automobile. As is the way of such things, after a long day of negotiation and paperwork she drove back to Victoria in a brand spanking new one instead! Rest assured that she came away with a particularly good deal…

For those interested in such things the vehicle is a shiny new Mazda CX-5 with all of the bells and whistles. This thing is practically frothing with technology, all of which is in the service of keeping the occupants as safe as possible out in the jungle that is the modern metropolis. If you are of the persuasion that will not rest until you know all of the details then you should consult the Girl for the full run-down – or avail yourself of the wonder that is the InterWebNet to carry out your own researches. All I know is that this thing certainly has more computing power on board than did the entire fleet of lunar modules (apologies for the extremely dated – though still germane – reference).

This leaves the Girl with a couple of vehicles to sell. She has of late been driving the little Miata in the summer months and reverting to the ancient Honda Accord when the weather turns inclement.

The CX-5 will now cover all the bases.

Tags: , , ,

Image by Andy Dawson ReidSince the Kickass Canada Girl went back to work recently she has had – yet again – to take on something of a commute. Nothing much by way of comparison to that which either of us endured back in the UK, but tiresome nonetheless. Much of it is along the main arterial route down the Peninsula into the centre of Victoria – Highway 17 (or the ‘Pat Bay’ as it is ‘affectionately’ known). This journey should take only around 20 – 25 minutes. That it has – of late – been taking considerably longer is in the main down to some Victorians being apparently unable to drive safely along the highway just as soon as the sun shines.

The Pat Bay is not the perfect road by any means. Much of it comprises two lanes in either direction and, whilst the southern stretch is adequately equipped with the sort of interchange with which we are familiar in the UK, north of Royal Oak, unfortunately, the intersections revert to being flat crossroads with traffic signals.

The problem is that some of those acclimatised to keeping their feet down on the southern section seem unable to reconcile this with having to stop at the lights further north. Even worse – if a green light can be seen at an intersection up ahead that seems like a good excuse to keep the power on. There is – of course – the possibility that the signal has only just changed to green, with the vehicles ahead still accelerating away when some monster pickup barrels into the back of them doing something quite illegal.

The Girl has of late come home grumbling of extended delays a couple of times a week. I had myself to pull over and let three police cars, two ambulances and a fire truck get past to deal with a shunt only this afternoon – and today is Sunday!

This has all – rather sadly – forced the Girl to rethink her means of transport. In England the cute little MX-5 can more than hold its own in traffic. Over here – fun as it is on the curvy stuff when the roads are clear – it doesn’t take much for the diminutive roadster to vanish into the blind spots of ‘semis’ (‘artics’ to UK readers) and pickups alike… particularly given their jockeys’ penchants for tailgating.

A larger – and safer – vehicle may well be required… at least while she is yet in employ.

As for me – there are definitely unwanted echoes of the traffic conditions I used to encounter on the M3 on the way into London every day.

Not what one looks to find in paradise!

Tags: , ,

Image by Superbfc at the English language WikipediaYou might have thought that my recent post regarding the outcome of the second inquest into the causes of the deaths of the ninety six victims of the 1989 Hillsborough disaster would be my last word on the subject. I suspect, however, that there will be yet more to come as the saga continues to unfold over the years.

This truth was brought home yet again last night in harrowing fashion as I watched Daniel Gordon’s two hour documentary – ‘Hillsborough‘ – made for the BBC and ESPN. The first version of this brilliantly judged work was completed nearly two years ago and shown in the US and – subsequently – in New Zealand. It could not at that time be shown in the UK for legal reasons; for fear that it might prejudice the outcome of the second inquest which had then just begun.

The film has now been extended in the light of the outcome of that inquiry and can now finally be seen in the UK and elsewhere. Should you yet feel uncertain as to the import of these recent events – or should you even perchance still harbour some misconceptions as to the truth of what really happened on that dreadful day and throughout the intervening twenty seven years – I urge you to take the time to watch this chilling memorial to the suffering of the families whose loved ones did not return home from that intended day of celebration.

Though I have been reading about the tragedy since the day that it happened, even so I learned things from this film that I had not previously known. This merely demonstrates anew just how much the authorities tried to keep hidden over the past two decades and more.

For example, I did not know that there had been another not dissimilar crowd control problem at an FA Cup semi-final at Hillsborough – some eight years earlier. On that occasion the crowd at the Leppings Lane end had been allowed to spill out of the stands onto the border of the pitch itself to avoid the crush. When – during the post mortem to that event – it was suggested that there had been a lucky escape and that modifications might be required to prevent future injuries or deaths, the ground’s owners and engineers dismissed the suggestion and did nothing.

Indeed – in the intervening years matters were made very much worse as a result of the FA’s misguided attempt to combat the hooliganism which seemed endemic to the game during the 1980s. The standing room terraces at the Leppings Lane end of the ground were turned into pens by the construction around them of fences of spiked iron railings. When lightening did indeed strike a second time the supporters were unable either to escape onto the pitch or sideways along the terracing as had previously been possible.

In another unfortunate circumstance the vastly experienced police superintendent, Brian Mole, who should have been in charge of the crowd control operation on the day of the disaster, was moved to another district a couple of weeks prior to the event. This followed a ‘hazing’ incident some months before in which a young police constable was one night subjected to a mock abduction by masked gunmen posing as armed robbers but who were in fact colleagues from the constabulary. Those concerned were disciplined firmly and Mole – though having no involvement himself – was moved.

His place was taken – at two weeks’ notice – by a man who not only had little experience of supervising such major events but also clearly had little understanding of football or of the habits and motivations of its followers. David Duckenfield was responsible for the two key actions that shaped the tragedy that followed and the appalling campaign that succeeded it.

First, he took the decision – when the crush of Liverpool supporters trying to get through the totally inadequate number of turnstiles at the Leppings Lane end looked to be getting out of hand – to open one of the exit gates to allow a large body of fans through to relieve the pressure outside. This was done without first having either sealed off the immediate entrance to the two already packed pens which was directly in front of the exit gate, or of ensuring that there were an adequate number of stewards or police inside the ground to direct fans to the still mostly empty pens to either side.

Then – as the inevitable tragedy was still being played out immediately beneath the windows of the control box in which he was located – Duckenfield lied to Graham Kelly (the FA representative at the ground) telling him that drunken ticket-less Liverpool supporters had broken down the very exit gate that he had himself ordered to be opened. Kelly naturally believed what he was told by the senior police official present and wasted no time passing the information on TV commentators and journalists. Thus was born the false myth that the supporters were to blame for the deaths of the ninety six, which was then seized upon by those in charge of all of the authorities concerned as a means of covering up the truth as to the multiple liabilities for the fatalities.

Daniel Gordon’s documentary is not an easy watch but it is an essential one if we are to fully comprehend this recent period in our history, for it has implications far wider simply than those for game of football or for this one appalling, tragic, but completely avoidable incident.

 

Tags: , , , ,

justice-collectiveThis day – twenty seven years after the event – the second inquest into the Hillsborough disaster – having been convened after the findings of the original inquest were quashed following the report of an independent panel four years ago – finally declared that the ninety six Liverpool Football Club supporters who lost their lives on that terrible day were killed unlawfully.

Though this is far from the end of the process – the Crown Prosecution Service may now decide to commence criminal proceedings against those deemed to have been culpable – it is to be hoped that the relatives and friends of those whose lives were lost can now finally grieve them properly and that – for their sakes – a line can be drawn. The shameful treatment to which they and others were subjected throughout this outrageous miscarriage of justice must, however, never be forgotten.

It is now clear that terrible mistakes and lapses of judgement were made both on the day and beforehand by those charged with ensuring the safety of the fans attending the FA Cup semi-final between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest that was to be played at Sheffield Wednesday’s Hillsborough stadium.

Terrible as were the events of the day itself, however, what followed was in some ways even more awful. The twenty five year campaign of obfuscation and misinformation that was waged by executives of all of the key agencies – the aim of which was to draw attention away from those actually responsible for the disaster, in large part by pushing the blame on to the supporters themselves – should of itself in any just world give rise to criminal proceedings.

That these attempts at evasion found support through the active or passive collusion of other forces of the ‘establishment’ leaves a stain which may not be removed in our lifetimes. The then Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s press secretary – Bernard Ingham – wrote a letter to one of the Hillsborough campaigners in the mid 90s blaming the tragedy on “tanked up yobs“, a slander for which he still refuses to apologise in spite of the new inquest’s complete exoneration of the supporters’ behaviour.

The divisions in English society that have been increasingly actively fostered from the 1980s onward must surely in part be to blame for such reprehensible attitudes. As long as a monied and powerful elite – puffed up with its own sense of entitlement and residing primarily in the south east of the country – determinedly sets itself apart from humbler mortals throughout the rest of the land, the notion that the latter belong to some lesser order that can be traduced as desired will – though unspoken – continue to prevail.

It seems to me inevitable that – unless the growing inequality that blights modern society can be reversed – such travesties on the part of those in authority are likely to continue.

Tags: , , , ,

Image by Jean Jullien

Image by Jean Jullien

A deep sense of dismay filled us on Friday evening last as the terrible news began to filter in from Paris. For a second time this year we looked on aghast at the horrific scenes from that most beautiful of cities. Our hearts go out to those who have had loved ones torn from them in this senseless slaughter and our thoughts are with the injured and bereaved.

It is deeply depressing that – whereas but a few days ago across many of the world nations had joined in remembering those who gave their lives in previous conflicts – here we are again grieving afresh. It is difficult not to feel anger along with the sorrow – anger that we seem incapable of conducting our international affairs in a manner that can prevent such hideous and wicked acts.

It is further – given the apparent motivation for these atrocities – impossible not to revisit critically the role of religions in the grisly affairs of man. We do altogether too well at glossing over the difficult questions that should be asked.

My issue with the major faith-based religions is not that they require their adherents to accept absolutely their textual and historical sources – and by extension to believe in their spiritual creeds – without adequate evidence. Frankly, this is in itself of little concern and the endless debates concerning ‘truth’ amount in many instances to little more than sophistry. The argument is in any case un-winnable either way.

No – my issue is with what is clearly the central tenet of such faith-based religions… that we mere mortals must surrender ourselves – subjugate ourselves – to some higher power which has a ‘purpose’ for each us that we are to fulfil without question. If the faith does allow us to retain some element of free will this usually simply concerns whether or not we accept our essential nature as a tiny cog in the supreme being’s omnipotent machine – there being inevitably some form of ‘punishment’ should we make the wrong choice.

Most religions insist on the belief that only by such submission to a higher power can humankind truly know and achieve its greater purpose. Such claims are doubtless made in good faith, but the dangers must be all too clear. It takes but a slight corruption for an ardent adherent to believe that they have been charged with committing an act of violence and wickedness as part of their gods’ purpose – thus not only essentially absolving themselves of responsibility but also justifying the unjustifiable.

The world’s major faiths would doubtless – and understandably – defend themselves by claiming such instances to be a perversion of true belief. History, however, demonstrates repeatedly that the basic premise is supremely vulnerable to corruption, and that the end result is more often than not some form of extremism.

Again the faiths would probably argue that secular society is no less corruptible than the spiritual, and that demagogues can spring up from all sides. This is absolutely correct. There is no such thing as benevolent dictatorship – whether spiritual or secular. However – misguided governments may be voted out – dictators and tyrants may be overthrown – oppressive regimes may find themselves the target of revolution.

Supreme beings are – by definition – inviolable.

Free men and women are absolutely entitled to seek consolation from any faith (or indeed from none) that works for them. There is no right, however, to impose those beliefs on others – and to commit acts of violence in the name of a belief can never – never – be justified.

Tags: , ,

Photo by KTSquareOn Monday Canada goes to the polls for the 2015 Federal Election – the which in the UK would be a General Election.

As a newcomer to this fair country I quite rightly (in my view) have no vote, though interestingly the reverse is not the case – the Kickass Canada Girl having regularly voted in UK elections as a Permanent Resident even before she attained her citizenship.

The Girl has done her best over the past decade to give bring me up to speed regarding both federal and provincial politics in Canada, yet I still feel scarely qualified to make a properly reasoned decision. Maybe by the the time the next election trundles around I will be fully qualified – in all senses.

The one big drawback to having taken this giant step across the ocean in the summer of this particular year is that we have had to endure the nightmare of not one but two election campaigns. The May election in the UK this year was grim in many respects – for the drear campaign that was waged on all sides but especially for the outcome, in which the Tories were unexpectedly (and to many unwantedly) returned with a slender but decisive majority.

Having now been obliged to suffer a second campaign within a year that has been every bit as unedifying as the first, my plea to all good and rational folk is to think long and hard before inflicting on us another similar result here in Canada

…if for no other reason than that the Girl will be impossible to live with for a while should that turn out to be the outcome!

Pretty please…!

Tags: , ,

Canadian houseI have in the past eulogised the Canadian real estate market vis a vis that extant in the UK. Mind you – the operation of just about any other real estate market might seem preferable to the cack handed (and I write as a southpaw myself!) methodology that we must needs follow in England. Do please refer to this previous post on the subject for yet another example thereof. The truth of the matter is more probably that any other system appears superior to one’s own – until one experiences it first hand.

One of the definite benefits of the Canadian system is that the two realtors (estate agents) involved in the process actually have subtly different roles. Rather than visiting many different realtors in the search for a property one always works with the same concern who bring to the purchaser details of all suitable properties, whether or not they are listed with that realtor. If a sale is eventually agreed both realtors take a share of the commission. If nothing else, this means that one works with someone whom one knows and trusts and the immediate individuals involved always have one’s best interests at heart.

The second major benefit is that the basic contracts are drawn up by the realtors at the point of offer. Certain conditions may be applied – such as the outcome of a house inspection – but if the offer is accepted and the conditions are satisfied then the purchase is signed and sealed and there is no possibility of gazumping or of any other such devious practice.

There is – however – plenty that can go amiss up to that point. Herewith details of our own recent experience…

We had seen – before we left the UK – a property of which we liked the look. Our dear friends in Saanichton – with whom we are currently living – had even been for a visit and had given us a sneak preview via Facetime. Ah – the wonders of technology…

Once landed in the province we quickly organised a viewing in person and – having very much liked what we saw – further arranged a second such. Though the house was priced rather higher than we felt was merited we prepared an offer. At this juncture – however – the vendors’ realtor disclosed that there was already an offer on the table to which the vendors had not responded. We should have been informed of this before we made the second viewing, but the vendors’ realtor omitted so to do.

Given that no offer had yet been accepted we found ourself in an unpleasant ‘multiple-offer’ situation. The mechanism here seems to be that both prospective purchasers are informed of each other’s presence and invited to make their best offer. Neither party may know, however, what the other has – or has previously -offered and one must therefore make a wild stab in the dark.

We felt obliged to offer rather more than we had wished, but were told that the vendor would – in any case – make a counter-offer to our ‘opponents’ first. They -quite understandably – walked away at this point and the vendor then made a counter-offer to us.

It rapidly became clear that they really weren’t prepared to make much of a concession at all and several rounds of us upping our offer and them giving nothing away left us frustrated and angry. Our sole conclusion from this bizarre behaviour was that – in spite of having listed their property – they didn’t actually want to sell it at all.

At this point we also decided to back out but – after a number of further days of fruitless searching in what has become a sellers’ market – reluctantly settled on making one last attempt at this house with which we had become enamoured. We gave the vendors pretty much everything they wanted, only to be told that they had gone away for a week on their sail boat! Needless to say, The Girl was by now spitting tacks!

The vendors’ realtor suggested that – could we agree to a completion date of the end of October (some three months hence) – then a deal might be done. The vendors had clearly not yet themselves found a property to purchase and had no idea what to do.

At this point we did finally walk away. The vendors’ realtor was most apologetic concerning his clients’ strange behaviour, but at this point no parsnips were buttered – as the saying goes.

There is clearly – as with all such things – some meaning behind all of this emotional upheaval. We await with interest to see what it is.

Tags: , ,

Inage from PixabayWhy is it that buying and selling property is such a difficult and complex business?

It is well-known fact that moving house is one of the most stressful experiences that one can face – along, of course, with giving birth and getting divorced (no connection!) – but unlike those (un)happy events, re-locating is more often than not done voluntarily – which almost makes it worse. It does seem strange that the long history of real estate dealing has not resulted in the sort of highly efficient hyper-streamlined operation into which most other transactions have evolved in this oh-so modern age.

The gentle reader of a regular habit will be all too aware that I wrote next to nothing about the eventual sale of our apartment in Buckinghamshire as it went through, for fear of jinxing the process. I had good reason for this. Though in the event the sale went through almost without hitch, it was still a nerve jangling experience.

For real estate deals in the UK the whole operation – once an offer has been accepted – is placed in the hand of the two sets of solicitors, one representing each party. The ensuing process – which involves getting surveys done, carrying out Land Registry and local authority searches to ensure that there are no impediments to the deal taking place, the filling out of endless disclosure and transfer forms and the signing of the eventual contract – can take anything from a few days to months and months, with the norm being apparently around eight to twelve weeks.

Unfortunately it is extremely difficult at any point to glean exactly what is going on or why it might be taking so long. One’s own solicitor might be a most helpful chap (and ours certainly was), but he is rarely keen to rattle the cage of his opposite number. We began to fear that our sale would not complete before we left for Canada, which would have rendered far more difficult the eventual extraction of the proceeds of the sale from the UK.

Once all of the particulars are in place and the financing agreed the next step is the exchange of contracts. These documents – which set in stone the agreed date and time for completion – will have been signed by the relevant parties before being swapped. At this point a healthy deposit is also paid by the purchasers as a means of dissuading them from dropping out at a late stage.

Finally – at the agreed date and time – the monies are paid and the deeds transferred to the new owner, who normally receives the keys from the sellers estate agent.

It seems to have become the practice these days for the purchaser to try to push back the exchange of contracts until almost immediately before completion, so that the period for which the deposit is held is as short as possible. Unfortunately this means that the seller has no guarantee right until the last possible moment that the sale will actually go through at the desired time. In our case we had agreed a completion date just over a week before our departure, but the exchange was repeatedly pushed back until it finally took place the day before completion.

Needless to say, we endured some restless nights worrying that we would leave for BC without the wherewithal to purchase a property in Victoria. As it turned out, of course, the funds appeared as we were expecting and were transferred almost immediately via our currency broker of choice (Moneycorp) to our Canadian bank.

 

In part two – we try to buy a house in BC.

Tags: , ,

skull-308551_640I’ve been in this town so long
So long to the city
I’m fit with the stuff
To ride in the rough
And sunny down snuff I’m alright
By the heroes and…

Van Dyke Parks, Brian Wilson

They say that you shouldn’t meet your heroes. Now – as it happens I have some small experience in this regard, having several decades ago been introduced to one of mine…

…and it turns out that ‘they’ are right.

Finding myself face to face with one of the most brilliant, erudite and talented playwrights working today (subsequently to be knighted for his services to the Theatre) I could think of nothing of any intelligence with which to engage him concerning the play that I had just experienced, instead merely burbling inanely some incoherence about his genius which probably embarrassed him as much as it did me.

Ouch!

Well – as part of what is quite clearly an ongoing education I now discover that one should not ‘meet‘ one’s villains either!

My antipathy towards the current Chancellor of the Exchequer will not come as news to those who have been subjected to the occasional political rants within these postings (examples – should you need them – here and here). Perhaps the most galling aspect – to my mind anyway – is that he is a Old Boy of the School. Given that he has, I am reliably informed, spoken in less than complimentary terms concerning his own schooldays it is perhaps mildly surprising that he has placed his son at the School.

Last week saw the final drama production of the school year. Long standing readers may recall that, two years ago, my own production of Parzifal featured in this slot. This year it was the turn of an excellently realised production of Beowulf featuring a cast of more than thirty – amongst which number was the aforementioned progeny.

Having volunteered my services Front of House on the Friday I almost inevitably found myself checking the ticket of the man himself. He had clearly brought his entire clan along to witness the adolescent’s senior school drama debut. To make matters worse he did not rush off afterwards, but joined the throng outside the Drama Centre in partaking of some liquid refreshment.

It is profoundly uncomfortable to find oneself sequestered for any period within a few yards of someone whose every public pronouncement incites one to near incandescent rage only to observe that, in close proximity, he is after all but a man – and one who is clearly extremely proud of his son. Yes – if one looked there were flashes of the arrogance, of the sense of entitlement, that have been so widely publicised (and criticised – not only by me!), but on another level this was simply a parent in an off-duty moment supporting his child…

…which is not at all how I want to think of him!

Bah!

Tags: , , ,

Image from PixabayThe antithesis of my love of language is a complete loathing for jargon in all its forms. This antipathy can manifest in different ways, from sitting in the back row at a product launch playing ‘Jargon Bingo‘* with colleagues, to getting into trouble at a high level meeting for snorting derisively and rather too publicly when one of the great and the good insisted that we must ‘get all of our ducks in a row‘. I won’t go so far as to claim that that faux pas cost me the job but I was gone from that worthy establishment within the year.

As you might imagine, ‘box ticking‘ registers fairly highly on the list of management-speak activities that sets my teeth on edge. Box ticking – however – is what the Kickass Canada Girl and I have been engaged in as we attempt to effect our egress from the country without forgetting anything important.

These things have we done in the past few days – in no particular order:

  • Cancelled the landline at our Berkshire apartment for our day of departure
  • Cancelled the broadband circuit at our Berkshire apartment for our day of departure
  • Ensured that we would not be liable to pay Council Tax on our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Ensured that we would not be charged over the odds for gas and electricity at our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Booked hotels for the nights between moving out of the Berkshire apartment and leaving for Victoria
  • Arranged an appointment with the bank to discuss our legacy financial arrangements in the UK
  • Spoken with Her Majesties Revenue and Customs (HMRC) to clarify how to get my tax coding changed after retirement
  • Responded to further queries from our purchasers solicitors regarding the sale of our Buckinghamshire apartment
  • Booked carpet cleaners for the Berkshire apartment subsequent to our moving out

This I have not done – though not for want of trying:

  • Cancelled my mobile (cell) phone contract. The contract actually runs until November 17th and would cost more to bail out of than to continue paying until then. However – it can only be cancelled by giving 30 days’ notice by phone, which means remembering to call Vodafone on or around 17th October – by which time we will of course be in Canada. Bah!

Still much to do!

 

* ‘Jargon Bingo’ appears usually to be called ‘Buzzword Bingo’ on the American continent. Same game!

jargon

Oh – I forgot ‘Brand Essence’…

Doh!

 

Tags: , , ,

« Older entries § Newer entries »