Stinky Little Friend..Not!!!

Would you believe it? I'm stood in the queue at the local Spar..fancy a corn beef buttie..the guy in front of me is positively reeking of ...Skunk....Don't these people realise..they're not only polluting the community..but they're killing brain cells off at a rate of knots..
Then he comes outside gets in his car and drives off.

Saturday dinnertime up the bookies for a bet..walks in it's stinking of skunk,,and here's me a model of consideration for other people won't fart in a crowded room or shop..
What is this plant that eertone's growing ..except me..are we churning out zombies for the future??
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Mum Said You Have To Learn To Share..

Whether it was a packet of sweets...a pocketful of marbles, the bow and arrow made by my dad or the muddy football..sharing was never my forte..As a young boy with grazed and dirty knees..hours spent chasing a heavy casey round the field..when dusk would come and like the final whistle an end to a summers day where I'd played out the role of Bobby Charlton banging it in between two coats..Manchester United..a team I worshipped. with players I'd imagine I could be, or closely copy..

David Herd..John Aston..Noel Cantwell..Harry Gregg..George Best..John Connelly..they were heroes in a young boys heart...and an allegiance to this day, where as a granddad I watch and listen to young boys running round with footbal shirts emblazoned ..with  the names of Rooney and Giggs and Scholes...

My love for Manchester United has never waned..a team managed by a living legend Sir Alex Ferguson for more than the last twenty years..Trophy after trophy..and yesterday..the Premier League Title wrestled from them by their nearest neighbours Manchester City, in the dying seconds of magical season..

I still don't like sharing and can't wait for the next season to come round with the chance to take it back..
  Come On You Reds..United..United..United!!!!

Social Animal...Me??

Forty eight hours..two days to become a ' social animal '....I'm going to a family wedding..dressed up like a dogs dinner..gawd help em...trousers..shirt and tie and jacket..best behaviour..What's that all about..
Queen Hotel..last time I was in there I was a kitchen porter..and they sacked me..for an act of kindness..giving my free meal to a mate...that was when I could comfortably fit into a pair of trousers and couldn't keep my eyes off the girls..and Yes they couldn't keep theirs off me...he he how times change..
Anyway I'm a husband, father and grandfather all rolled into one these days..with the emphasis on rolled..well a little rounded shall we say..
So, best behaviour...bath and a shave help!! ..Don't need shoes..got a pair, still shining about twenty years old been in and out of fashion at least twice..but they still fit..not like the rest..of my attire.
Special requests..A seat between two guests with hearing aids..so I can slurp my soup..a sharp knife to cut my meat..harder to chew these days..and a little card for when I go missing saying 'Gone for a smoke..'
No dancing with strange women..won't they all be strange..bite my lip when someone who's not seen me for years says ' you're looking well ' or makes light of never seeing me dressed up..Families have a habit of amusing themselves by indulging in sarcasm..that's where I'll excel..lowest form of wit..but who cares..Gawd help em!!

Don't Come Down Unless You're Asked..

' Don't come down unless you're asked.' I can still hear those words ringing in my ears, from my adoptive mother ...Ooh must be..thirty years or more.what it really meant was don't come down again..full stop..

There's a little chapel in rural Cheshire just outside Winsford..with a neatly kept graveyard..there in peace I hope,lies my adopted mother and father..

I remember a teacher telling me once in school about a species of bird called the cuckoo...apart from it's well documented habit  of pecking large holes in a tree trunk, little was known of a cuckoos' behaviour when laying it's eggs..I was reliably informed their eggs were laid  in the nest of another species of bird.and I was in another nest.

My adoptive mother told me at an early age, that my real mother was ' no good, a streetwalker and didn't want me. '

I was born in a run down hospital in Wolverhampton in nineteen fifty two..along with my twin sister..Rose Millicent our birth mother barely grasped the reality of having twin babies and the nurses were left to come up with a name for us, Janet and John seemed the easy choice, characters from a series of childrens book of the time.Facts were Rose, our mother had seven children and my twin sister and I were the only two with the same father..my adoptive mother's assertion about her could have been believable..the truth was she a vulnerable young woman, with little family support..having children out of wedlock in the fifties was frowned upon by many.

My twin sister was adopted within three weeks, girls were said to be more popular for adoption at that time..I went home with my mother..Home for the first eight months of my life, would be a pokey little one bedroom flat above a Mangle repair shop in Potters Lane Wednesbury..it was home too, for Pamela an older half sister from a previous relationship my mother had..
Rose had very little money so had to go out cleaning a couple of times a day..I would sleep in a cramped cupboard at night and spend most of the day in an old squeaky pram..
At eight months old I was ' handed over ' to my adoptive parents...'like a piece of meat ' wearing clothes I'd seemingly grown into...continued...

You Know It Makes Sense...

Some years ago, while driving couple of customers home after a quiet night in town..a voice from the back seat said to me ' The new night out, is a night in.' She'd read it in a magazine somewhere..

I find myself saying the same thing at least once every Friday or Saturday night of late..Is something afoot in our once bustling..vibrant city?..The price of the beer and the blanket ban on smoking in the pub..just two of the nails in the coffin, along with the downturn in custom condemns the friendly local to the history books..

There are not many drinking establishments around that don't offer food with your pint..but think about it..it's cheaper to knock a meal up at home, with the family, bottle of wine or a couple of cans in front of the telly a film..couple of friends..No late night brawls..No waiting in the cold for a taxi home..or standing outside having a smoke.Apart from special occasions..The new night out is a night in for more and more people

Dear Somebody...

Well here we are..early March. It's bloody freezing!!! Even when the sun is out.
Let's see...Fuel prices still on the up up up and job numbers still not increasing...Dear Lord..Dear somebody can we have two busy weekends a month? Oh and some more race days, with plenty of visitors..and can someone tell Mike Jones...he's something to do with the Council, that the four million visitors we do get..come on coaches..use trains and walk round saying ' Chester is a lovely place ' and so it might be but that doesn't pay the bills.
So too many taxis..not enough work and somebody somewhere sitting in a warm office thinks in their wisdom, minus any knowledge of the taxi trade..oblivious to the current financial climate...that it would be a good idea to abolish the zone system for Hackney Cabs and keep on increasing the numbers...
It's true..any extra work on race days and end of each month..when people get paid..they think we want to share it..in the name of  ' free enterprise ' Not Bloody Likely..There are only so many ropes you can dangle over the bridge at any one time..
Methinks there'll be a resounding No!! to ending the zones and to any calls to increase numbers..
They say those that have power..always want more.. and more and now it's a Points system for forgetful and erring taxi drivers..like we're little boys..as if the Licensing officers from CWaC haven't racheted up the rules enough already..they want to introduce more and play ' policeman '....If they can't be seen to be enforcing what they have now.. how will they enforce more..
Oh and if you really want to know what's high on the wishlist..A proper Knowledge Test to ensure all new drivers know their area...it does wonders for customer satisfaction...

Field Of Strawberries,,Analogy

I have an area of land and decide to use it to grow strawberries..There is a market for strawberries and my research tells me there are only a certain number of strawberries that people will buy, so I grow strawberries to satisfy my customers needs, focussing on quality and mindful that should I grow more than I can sell my efforts will have been wasted.
I buy the best strawberry seeds in order to produce the quality my customer demands to ensure they return for more
I employ people who have a knowledge in this field and my business flourishes. I'm satisfied and my customers are happy and continue to buy..so I make a living and those I employ make a living.

My friend purchases an area of land, in the town where he lives, to grow strawberries..He takes on board some of my advice having seen my success..then he decides in his own wisdom that he will employ a small number of people who have little knowledge or experience in this field, alongside others with the required experience and knowledge..
My friend soon notices that his customers are becoming less satisfied with the quality of his strawberries and are buying less. Some of his employees are leaving and he is replacing them with more who have little knowledge in this field..
It isn't long before his business is struggling..complaints follow about the quality and his customers don't return..
My friend struggles to make a living..his customer are unhappy and so are his employees..

Taxi drivers livelihoods are being threatened, as councils continue to issue licences to people with little or no knowledge of the area and how to do the job...

Culture Of Silence...

The only way to get round the one hundred and forty character rule, is to put it in your blog..So in a temporary deviation from my usual  'ramblings '....
In any working class community you'll find unwritten rules..if you've broken the law or done something wrong you don't readily admit your guilt..you let those in authority prove you did it and protest your innocence until the very last..this way you'll retain your supporters..and in some cases your hero status..however misguided it may look..
Should you be the victim of a crime or wrongdoing, a section of the community will treat you with disdain for reporting or disclosing it and the perpetrators identity...
Equally if you witness a crime or wrongdoing, these unwritten rules discourage you from reporting or disclosing the identity of the perpetrators..you should  ' mind your own business..keep your mouth shut ' and  'let the authorities prove it...
Opening your mouth and admitting your guilt is seen by some as a weakness..as is reporting or disclosing to the authorities that you have been the victim of a crime or wrongdoing...
Giving information about a crime or wrongdoing you have witnessed..is seen by many as worse than the crime itself and the perpetrator...
This is wholly immoral, negative and destructive to the fabric of communities who often live in fear of reprisals and bullies..many crimes and wrongdoings go unreported and unpunished because of this deep rooted Culture Of Silence

  

A Breath Of Fresh Air !! Please?

A smoking ban!! Just what we wanted..no more smoking in public places, no burn holes in the seats and carpets..Still flatulation goes unpunished..what do they put in those curries on a Saturday night and why do they insist on keeping the bloody windows closed ugh!!
' Will you take a small dog in your car? ' you're asked and you agree as long as it  doesn't sit on your seat..dog hair and other unmentionables not good. Would you take a skunk in your car??? A skunk..a stripey longtailed squirrel like creature, famed for it's obnoxious, breathtaking smell? Certainly not, but there's an even worse  twenty first century hazard that creeps up on you.. Worse than a bag of sweaty socks or a fresh kipper..only rivalled by a stink bomb and that's the casual user of Skunk..slumped in your back seat, grinning and simmering in a repugnant waft...Chilling Out??

Not On My CV !!

Alcohol!..Drugs!..Illicit Sex!..Crime!..Schrreeech! Bad Drivers!...Racism! Sexuality!...Welcome to the back of my cab...No no..you'll be quite safe, they are topics of conversation entwined in my near twenty year tenure as a Private Hire driver, in a city shrunken by the miles and miles of ...' have you had a good night? 'and sometimes ' where can I get a bit of relief?' from the customer of course..and not famine relief!!

When I set out on this wonderous, educational merry go round...you could hear the sound of  ' Last Orders! .followed by a bell.....in every drinking establishment at ten thirty..then an often impatient  ' Come on haven't you got homes to go to?? ' Now night and day is one and the same to many, the lines are forever smudged..and the drinking establishments are filling up at ten thirty onwards..six in the morning the stragglers make their way home..or work....while polishing off the last of the kebab meat and chips..

Who remembers the pay packet?..The little brown envelope containing the fruit of your weeks labour, stuffed into a back pocket of a ragged pair of jeans..then lying on the kitchen table in the morning..shy of a tenner..perhaps...and a skin full had been had..with change..

Now a cash machine, lies in wait on every corner, brightly lit offering the chance to spend spend spend..more than you earn or can afford,,,and the mobile phone a must for telling your mates how much you've drunk..how incapable you are!!.. to be continued ..