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Poll Position

So, after months of frenzied speculation, and a poll rating that has gone up and down like Casanova's underpants, Gordon Brown has ruled out a snap election. It says so as BREAKING NEWS on BBC News 24. Although, if the rest of the British Media is to be beleived, I should take everything said by the BBC with more than a pinch of salt. Obviously, if it were a cynic, I might be inclined to believe that the other outlets of the Media in the UK may have their own agendas when it comes to pepetuating their anti BBC bias. I might say that, if I were a cynic.

Oh hold on, the chaps and lady chaps on Sky News are saying it too. So it must be true.

Mind you, it seemed highly unlikely it was going to happen anyway.

The Labour Party have no money to fight another election so soon after the last one, the Tories have had enough of licking their -often self inflicted- wounds, and are putting on a united front. A report in the Sunday Telegraph on the eve of the Tory conference suggested Lord Ashcroft had already spend £10m on campaigning before the election had even started. Hoping to repeat the success of his previous campaign when in the first three months of 2005 he paid nearly £300,000 in donations to 33 candidates in marginal constituencies. The effects of this were clear for all to see: 11 of the candidates unseated Labour candidates and five vulnerable Conservative MPs were saved. This time around, he is refining the campaign to target an even smaller group of seats, and Brown knows the effects could be far more serious than in 2005.Gordon has been in the leader's chair for 101 days now, and probably doesn't want to run the risk of being turfed out of job he's waited so long to have.

So, has he bottled it?

Possibly. Or he could be the shrewd, prudent political power he clearly feels he is.

For a man who wrote such a fine selection of Political essays under the collective heading of "Courage" it is claimed he has, at times, been shown wanting when it's come to demonstarting the courage of his own convictions. When the whole of the UK fell out of love with Tony Blair, Gordon Brown didn't go for the kill, he stayed in the background, "brooding" if the media were to be believed. Maybe. Or he showed loyalty to his Party, and his leader, knowing that an all out civil war would do irrepairable damage to Labour. For many, the long dark years spent in the wilderness weren't all that long ago. If a week is a long time in politics, 18 years is akin to the rise and fall of the Mayan empire.

Only time will tell if PM Brown has shown weakness in ruling out an election now, or if he's shown great courage.

Politics is a fickle business. 7 days ago, Gordon Brown was hanging ten as he rode the crest of a wave, bouyed by a surge in the polls, this week it's "Just Call Me Dave" Cameron that's on a high, mind you, after all his years working for Carlton he should be used to that. That and talking unprompted for hour upon hour...

By which I mean, they were once a very successful Media organisation, with very impressive communication skills.

Personally, I'm quite glad that there isn't to be an election just yet.

It's Autumn and Hallowe'en is just around the corner, surely opening the door to ghoulish visions of the undead imploring you to choose between a trick or a treat, would only get in the way of Hallowe'en for the kids.

Boom, and if you will, tish... thank you very much, I'm here all week, try the soup.

A Glimpse Into My Soul

Just a quick one, this weekend I'd been going through my old phone and binning pictures and other junk, when I came upon this snapshot. Possibly the finest episode of Holby City ever. Coming up next on BBC1, Casualty, Harry stumbles across Davros in the staff canteen and Charlie and Josh are killed by The Master. Obviously this picture seems to imply that my Sky+ is filled with episodes of QI, Holby and Torchwood. This couldn't be further from the truth. It's mostly episodes of Shaun the Sheep.

Mellow Yellow

And so the blogging begins again.

Never the most regular of posters, my blog has been somewhat lacking on updates in recent weeks. This has been for a number of reasons. Firstly, the company I have worked for for most of my working life, has finally shuffled off it's retail coil. And it has been a slow painful death. This has meant that I have been travelling up and down this fine country for various job interviews, using up any spare time or days off I had. On a positive note, every interview I had resulted in a job offer. Unfortunately, the job I wanted, in the town I wanted, was snatched from my grasp. Not by my failure to find somewhere to live, but by my body rebelling against me in a most painful way. And in a way that allowed me to resemble, in skin tone at least, my Simpson-a-like. Oh how I laughed.

Acute pancreatitis. I have never in my life experienced anything as painful, or as unpleasant. And this comes from the perspective of someone who lived through Thatcher's Britain (yes indeed, ladies and gentlemen, a little bit of politics, doubleseatdoubleseatgottagetadoubleseat, sparkly suit, git face)and had his... No that's another story, and not one I really want to go into just yet.

So, there I was, lying on the shop floor, sweating, turning yellow, and cursing the indigestion I seemed unable to shift, and slowly, but surely it got worse. Now as a lardyarsed Scotsman, who hasn't taken as much care of himself as he should, every thought going through my head seemed to end at the same point, "You may as well face it Tubbs, you're not going to be sending any Christmas cards this year..." oh alright, the actual thought was, "Shit, I'm going to die" well that and a bemused "Didn't I used to have white bits in my eyes?". Now all this started on the Friday, by Wednesday I decided I should see a doctor of some sort. Doctor seemed to think I'd have been better going to A&E. Probably on the previous Friday.

So off I went to my local hospital. For reasons best known to itself, there is a part of the Medical Ward in the same part as the Maternity Ward. The very Maternity Ward I was born in. "Brilliant" I thought, "I'm going to die 10 feet from where I was born, how pitiful is that?".

Now, you've probably guessed by now that I didn't die. I'm not yellow either. And I have lost around 20lbs since my collapse. Actually, I lost most of that on the Friday, still, it's still off. People I haven't seen for a while have commented on how well I'm looking, how I've lost weight and am looking fresher and younger than I have for a long time. And the pancreatitis? Apparently it may never rear it's head again, nasty gallstone getting lodged in places it shouldn't be. And now that I seem to be living on porridge, fruit and low fat-well-everything, it might just have been the warning I needed to give myself the kick up the arse I needed. I'm sure that when it started in my head, that sentence made sense.

Sadly, because of the illness, the job in Ayr fell through. I really wanted the job too. Still, obviously wasn't to be. So for the past few weeks, instead of the stress of moving house and starting a new job in the same week, I've been in hospital, lost weight, gone from pink to yellow and back to pink again, and thrown myself into a Closing Down sale. Must end Saturday, Everything Must Go. Including me. Free to a good home.

However, on Monday, I start a new job here, in my hometown, and it's 9-5, Monday to Friday, every weekend off, every Bank holiday off and pay wise, I'm no worse off than I am in my current job. Now, that might not seem remarkable to most people, but ever since I left school I have worked in Retail. The last time I had every, or even regular, weekends off it was May 1987. And I don't have the stress of moving house. Yet.

So, this weekend, I shall hang up my Retail Hat. For a while anyway. No more kilts, menswear, tailoring or malt whisky. No more soul destroying trips to the NEC in February, and no more salty soup at the Scottish Menswear shows in Moodiesburn and Hamilton. No more Sales reps. No more late night curry frenzies in Birmingham. No more smelly old tweed.I've sold everything from postcards to HD Televisions, and for the best part of 2005, Ladies Accessories, anything you need to know about Radley Handbags, just ask. And in 3 years, I've managed to not only close the oldest established store in the town (1860-2004) I've closed the local Currys and the new Menswear shop (from the "ashes" of the old store) we only opened in April 2006. You'd think people would have stopped employing me by now wouldn't you?

And will I miss working in Retail? Ask me after a month working in an office.

But wish me luck, I think I'm going to need it.

HELP!

Not a blog as such, in fact it's now a cry for help.
I need somewhere to live, preferably in Ayr, as that is where my new job is, but happy to live anywhere on the bus or train route.
Do you, or any of your friends, have a spare room for a poor ex leper?
If not, have you a copy of the Ayrshire Post handy?

It's yesterday once more

Throughout my childhood, it seemed school holiday telly meant one thing and one thing only. Old black and white serials on BBC1.
The finest example of this genre being The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.
As sure as day follows night and the Weather follows the News, it would be on. Until that is, the early 80's. Suddenly grainy old black and white serials fell out of favour, and the yoof went off in search of The Kids of Degrassi High and The Red Hand Gang-although I'm not sure if that series was ever shown in Northern Ireland-leaving poor old Robinson and his man Friday to gather dust in a French film library.
As touched upon on an earlier posting, until the age of 7 I grew up with just the one channel, and tv during the day was a treat. And I loved Robinson Crusoe.
And now, it's back, back, back! Thanks to the good people at Network DVD, those grainy images are available whenever you want them.
And surprisingly, it's as good as it ever was. The opening scenes with the ship being battered by huge breaking waves, as one by one the crew are sent overboard or crushed to death are worthy of many films made today on multi million pound sets.
Given that the last time I watched any of this footage was 25 years ago, it's comforting that so much is still familiar, as if it was only a week ago. At times the narration jars, but maybe it's just his accent. And the music, oh what a sound. Haunting and beautiful, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled as the sweeping orchestral score soars and swoops like a seagull on the wind.
Sometimes it's easy to see the past through a haze of rose tinted nostalgia. But sometimes, just sometimes, it really is as good as you remember.

i-play u-play we all play

I'm a terrible Luddite with modern technology as opposed to the

Spinning Jenny I suppose, but in the last few years I have gone wireless, I do love a podcast, and I have an mp3 device so that wherever I go I can listen to Mark Kermode's film reviews and Danny Baker's All Day Breakfast.
Hell, I even have a myspace page and this blog thing. But today I downloaded the new super duper BBC iPlayer. I think. For a long time nothing seemed to be happening with it. I've long been a fan of the BBC Radio Player, and seldom a week goes by without me using it, so imagine my excitement when the iPlayer came online. No really, try and imagine, in fact, in much the same way the Story Makers might put it, Imagine, imagine, imagine a slightly excited Me. I got my secret codes from the BBC, I put in my account stuff, and I installed the"an end to missing 2Pints of Lager on BBC3 misery"* device and now I wait. It's downloading now, and it's taking forever. I decided to download something I had already seen, so that should the whole thing not work, I wouldn't mind too much.
So, should Holby City appear somewhere on my computer, I shall let you know. My hopes aren't high though. My computer is a bit old and knackered, and the software is a Beta program, but fingers crossed.
Still no sign of a job though. If you know of anything... I'd quite like to move to Ayr if that helps.




*actually, because of the unique way BBC3 works, I believe it takes a supreme effort to miss 2 Pints as it does appear to come round with alarming regularity, and normally as a double bill! Make it stop.