As I wandered this morning down a long Devon hotel corridor, illuminated every couple of metres by bright overhead spots leaving defined pools of light on the carpet, I overheard the West Country tones of a maid on the phone through an open bedroom door: "... and I told 'er to get BONgella ...", with the emphasis on the first syllable.
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Priorities wrong
The Home Secretary has announced that "police in England and Wales are to have targets on minor offences relaxed" so that they can concentrate on violent, particulalrly knife, crime, according to BBC News. This is not the way to do it. Yes, increase the spending on dealing with violent crime: add the metal detectors and do the advertising. But not at the expense of the ordinary, everyday policing: the traffic offences, the anti-social behaviour, the burglaries.
Here's a radical idea: spend more.
Here's a radical idea: spend more.
A memorable Valentine's gift
In the centre of a market town in southern England there is a road. Well, it has many of the features you would expect of a road: it is tarmaced; cars drive along it; it has pavements with kerbs. But apparently it is not a road.
Last Thursday evening, at around nine o'clock, two uniformed traffic wardens were industriously writing out parking tickets for four cars, all sensibly and safely parked along the edge of this street. They had their little digital camera, flashing away to prove that they really had stuck the notices on the windscreens. I got into 'conversation' with them, because I wanted to park there too. I was told that this is not a road, at least in terms of parking: it is a footpath. I laughed a little, pointing to the features I described earlier. But no, if I parked there I too would be ticketed. I ventured that this was clearly a nice little earner for [nameless town] - build a thing that looks like a road, then fine people for parking along it. I got a shrug.
A little while later, as I was working nearby, I watched a young couple return to one of the cars. He had to hold and comfort her for a few moments after they discovered the fine. Maybe it doubled the cost of their Valentine's night out. I didn't watch for the other owners.
Last Thursday evening, at around nine o'clock, two uniformed traffic wardens were industriously writing out parking tickets for four cars, all sensibly and safely parked along the edge of this street. They had their little digital camera, flashing away to prove that they really had stuck the notices on the windscreens. I got into 'conversation' with them, because I wanted to park there too. I was told that this is not a road, at least in terms of parking: it is a footpath. I laughed a little, pointing to the features I described earlier. But no, if I parked there I too would be ticketed. I ventured that this was clearly a nice little earner for [nameless town] - build a thing that looks like a road, then fine people for parking along it. I got a shrug.
A little while later, as I was working nearby, I watched a young couple return to one of the cars. He had to hold and comfort her for a few moments after they discovered the fine. Maybe it doubled the cost of their Valentine's night out. I didn't watch for the other owners.
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