1 Non Blonde + 1 Dumb Blonde

Givin' it welly - eyes closed an all...

Here's two versions of the same story. Choose which one you like best.

1 Non Blonde + 1 Dumb Blonde

Why the name? Where did that come from? Well here in Spain they tell jokes about blondes, just like everywhere else in the world. But a few years ago in California there were four very smart chicks who invented the name 4 Non Blondes for their band. Why not – they were smart and they weren’t blondes

And she can dance too....

 either. They were so smart they wrote a successful song. Debbie likes to sing that song.

One day we were chatting during rehearsal about a name for the band. 
“We can’t be 4 Non Blondes ‘cos there’s two of us.” said the Blonde.
“And that’s the only reason is it? ¿isn’t here anything else?” asked the Non Blonde
“Like what?” asked the Blonde.
“Like you’re Blonde!”
Yeh, and dumb, as you now know.

This is a real Rock and roll story; the story of an ex-choir boy and a girl who sounds more like Janis than Janis did. This is a story of total commitment, hard work and success after success after success. And if you believe that your dumb – a dumb blonde maybe; and there lies a story.
A few years ago four intelligent Californian girlies with no wish to be confused with the dumb blonde variety of girlie made a splendid recording and had a smash hit with it. They decided to name themselves 4 Non Blondes. Debs likes the song – tho’ typically she doesn’t know what it’s called – and she liked the idea of not being thought dumb and she isn’t blonde; from a bottle or otherwise. But there’s the problem you see; I am. So we had to be 1 Non Blonde and 1 Dumb Blonde……. Guess who’s the intelligent one in the band and who’s the dumb one?
If it’s intelligent to just turn up now and then, sing a couple of songs, dance about looking sexy and cool then accept all the plaudits; no doubt, its Debs. If it’s dumb to be the one (a rhyme – a lyric?!) who downloads all the lyrics, learns all the chords, looks after the guitar, buys and changes strings, painstakingly tracks down an often incommunicado band mate to arrange practices, searches out no-gigs and high profile non-concerts in cool places, arranges radio and television fame; no doubt, ¡it’s me!

My; haven't we got a lot of freinds

Coming soon – books

So where are they then, these books? Is there a bustle on the bookshelf?

Well; the truth is there are issues. Book issues rather than books being issued.

Rottweiler on speed

A title is still undecided and front covers are lacking.

When one peruses the pages of wisdom; the blogs of those that know and the webpages of those that can and have, two things become evident: you need a title that’s the Dog’s Bollox and a front cover that grabs the attention like a Rottweiler on speed sniffing the front of your pants!

Miss, Miss, how many fingers am I holding up?

So here’s the issues:

The title:

I have the sub-title. Everything they don’t tell you in uni about being a primary school teacher. The possibilities for the main title are legion; to many to mention here. My friend Rish, who teaches future primary teachers, ran a few ideas past some of his charges and they went for the infantile: Miss, Miss, Steve’s done a poo! They also liked, Miss, Miss, yer knickers are on fire! And some liked, At the Front of the Class: How to avoid a massacre  My pal Debs likes, Miss, Miss, how many fingers am I holding up? But then there's the issues with copyright.

Whadyerthink?

The front covers:

If you’re an artist/designer/graphic designer/sand artist/piss artist and you feel like drawing a very small drawing of a small boy doing a poo in class, or a St Valentine’s Day Massacre in class……. On you go and send me the results. Clearly you stand to make a small fortune in royalties. Very small. Infinitely small.

a massive feck-off fairytale Hans Christian Anderson of a wedding cake castle in Czech

The other book, Travels in Time also lacks a front cover. I wanted to use one of the Dr Who’s Tardis Van Gogh pictures, but its nightmare trying to track down the owners and ask for permission. Soooooooo…………….. if anyone wants to contribute a lovely paintin’, drawin’, computer generated image of a Time Traveller’s Bike…… or a Tardis with a bike parked outside…… or a massive feck-off fairytale Hans Christian Anderson of a wedding cake castle in Czech with a bike parked outside……. Likewise; on you go….. fame and fortune beckon! Not in this century, but who knows what posterity will bring?

Books, Books, Books.

Mine'll be there soon!

I’ve written some. Well, two; but another one is well on the way – its short stories you see, and I’ve written more than one, so that’s OK then innit! The two that are finished are called……… well; that’s another story, I’m not yet sure what they’re called.

Shall I do the start at the beginning thing; as Plum Wodehouse used to say somewhere around paragraph 2! OK, last summer I went wandering on the bike as I am wont to do of a summer. I did a lot of stuff and had a lot of thoughts. Big stuff, big thoughts. I met my Li’l Bro for the first time in 30+ years and really enjoyed it – of course I got to meet my Sister in Law and my nephew too. Later I met my Big Sis and her enormous family for the first time. Adopted you see; Sis, not me. So you see; pretty big stuff. Two of the thoughts I had were; I must become a Rock and Roll star before it’s too late! And I must start finishing some of the………. Ohhhh, let’s see now………. Lots of books and stories that I’ve got started.

The Rock and Roll thing is another story, but the books thing; I get distracted easy! An idea occurs, I hear a phrase, I see a headline or hear a story in a bar and that’s it! I’m off; tippy tappy on the lappy. The problem is that I don’t finish them. Until now!

Barnsley - jewel of the North

.....and Benidorm, jewel of the Costa Blanca

So here’s what I have; first a little book to help student teachers and Newly Qualified Teachers and simply those who are having a spot of bother. It’s not terribly formal; in fact it’s not formal at all. Some would say it’s downright informal verging on the irreverent. Good; that’s what I was aiming for. Do you need to know about class control? Jobs home and abroad? Good and bad schools? Need jargon decoded; know how to treat colleagues and your back explained? Want to have a laugh while you read - learn thru’ stories and a common sense approach backed by 16 yrs of experience? Want an easy to read, well set out book, with clear titles and easy lists to follow? I’ve worked in UK and abroad, been permanent and on supply, been in big schools, little schools, bilingual schools, multicultural schools and schools with no culture whatsoever. So if you are a student teacher, or an NQT; if you are struggling with your class, or simply wondering whether to go to Barnsley or Benidorm; the answers are here.

Secondly; a book that appears at first glance to be about a journey to a wedding in a castle in Moravia, but is in fact a series of reflections, rhapsodies, rants and raves about just about everything in the universe, all set to a symphony of storms, birdsong and the murmur of the breeze in the trees. Sunsets and sunrises by Manet

Monet...... or is it Manet, what's a vowel between friends?

and Monet abound with the odd Turner at dusk and a dawn Whistler or two. Landcape looms up and passes by, bridges for leaning and shade for lazing. Love affairs are there, both past and present; requited and un. There are three German girls all called Ania; endless stories and jokes pop up on the pages and keep you turning.

The next one, the one that’s well under way, is a series of traveler’s tales. Have you ever been in a car chase with the Polish Police or been arrested by the Secret Police in Crete?

Have you ever hitched a lift in James Bond’s car or shared a room in post-Midnight Express Istanbul with a French cough medicine junkie? I have and I’m going to tell you about it. Have you ever climbed down knotted sheets to escape the night watchman in a Crete hotel – no; neither have I but I know a man who has and I’ll tell you the tale. I’ll tell you about sailing with Dave and all the drinking and the dolphins; the flappy bits and the mappy bits. Meet beauty and the Brickie on the bus and share some Bertie Wooster with me in Eli’s in Huish Episkopi, one of Britain’s most loved pubs. I might even tell you what happened when I was massaging a French girls feet while her Dad snored away in the next room on Christmas Eve – I might………

Come back soon and I’ll maybe tell you about singing with Debs and out best gig ever at the anti-repo demo!

It's not about Lance

Sufferfest

I was riding along the pavement the other evening when I heard my name called by a young voice; from a car. The car pulled over and I saw who it was; my favourite ex-student and driving the car was her Dad, a thoroughly nice man and ex-professional cyclist. I’m not going to name either; he doesn’t speak English and won’t read this, but we were having a private conversation that I didn’t ask him if I could repeat – so Mum’s the word. Suffice it to say he has won stages in major races and been placed overall in lesser stage races and been a national champion. A class act. As are his offspring; I’ve taught them.

We’ve never talked much about cycling. He made it very clear to me the first time we chatted (diggin the school garden) that the life isn’t much fun. Bradley Wiggins is making much of the sacrifices he’s made to win a Tour, as well he might. According to my source, everything comes second to the bike; its train, eat, rest, sleep, train, eat rest, sleep, tra…… you get the picture. Things like family, trips, holidays, taking the kids to school, shopping – family life then, are subjugated to the need to maximize your potential on the bike; it’s your job. Nothing else counts. Now he was enjoying the hell out of simple things like fetching the kids from school. Oh, and diggin the school garden to plant spuds. Cool. But after all the stuff about Lance (L.A.) I thought I might just ask his opinion; talk about opening the flood gates. Basically he said everything I’ve always thought but obviously he’s got way more perspective, factual content, and above all experience. So here goes then, more or less in the order the conversation took:

Maitre Jac

 Sudden outrage. Why the sudden outrage. It’s what I can’t get past personally. We’ve (all us real bikeys) always, always known that “You can’t win the tour de France on mineral water” as Maitre Jacques said in the 50s. So my source told me that he always gives the example of M/way driving. Everyone, but everyone, speeds. We all do it, we’re all culpable, all guilty, but where’s the screaming outcry, the hullabaloo, the kangaroo courts in the press and the blogs and online every day?!

Armstrong was a great Champion. This from a man who’s ridden in the peloton with him. He said he didn’t have much to do with him, but knew that he was a great rider and a great champion. He pointed out that no one could beat Armstrong, that everyone had the same “help” but no one could touch him, no one could get near him. I agree and always will – we all know that Lance was the best! I may not like it but I know it. And I might add that I’ve seen him in March in Murcia looking as sick as a dog coming in in the last group up the mountain and over half an hour behind the young Alejandro Valverde. Who won the Tour? Who do you think! A friend in the choir remembers L.A. riding the Tour of Burgos back before the cancer; he didn’t win – anything – but he didn’t get in the team bus either. He rode all the way back to the city after the finish of the race, another 80 kms. He’s always been that stubborn/determined, that ready to go the extra mile …… or 80 kms!

The peloton isn’t cleaner. Nothing has changed – how can we tell – because the Tour de France times remain the same; stages and overall. They should be slower; considerably if the doping that had such an effect is no longer taking place.

Speed Kills!!

One thing that he insisted on is that things have changed enormously since the days of Tommy Simpson. I can remember “old boys” telling me about swigging brandy before the off in local Time Trials; what Tommy took was a mixture of Cognac and pure amphetamine; speed kills! No; my source was adamant that it was always described as “help” in his day and before. He told me about a book he had a home from his country that detailed the help available to racing cyclists – and called it just that – help. The point he was making and I’d like to make is that it wasn’t harmful. It wasn’t portrayed as being bad; if you wanted to win, to succeed, it was what you had to do – the help you needed. Just that. What’s all the fuss about? I’ve never been fast, but I know that you simply can’t ride over the kind of distances and mountains that a major stage race takes you without a lot of rest and recuperation. A lot. Note I say ride. Now think about racing over that same route! You’d need help.

Some time ago, riding in France I met a young Irish bikey who was trying to ride the route of the 3 major tours. http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/page/?o=1&page_id=127504&v=YJ I invited him to stay when it got to the Vuelta, which he did. He was young and strong and fit; my mate David and I struggled to keep up with his rhythm and he had all the bags on. John made it; an unbelievable ride, but he was shattered after all three of the rides; and he was “resting” from his day job all year to do the rides. Apart from massive beer abuse (my fault, all my fault) John was riding clean, but here’s the thing; he was riding, not racing, and I don’t think there are too many people who could match his achievement. Not just physically; it’s draining mentally too.

In conclusion; I’ll say to you all again: why the sudden outrage, the sudden feigning of ignorance? Us bikeys we knew all along. I’ll say again what my mate Mart always says, “Everybody, from the sponsors, the management, the media, the fans – they all demand that level of performance.” You wanted it; you got it; so what’s with all the sudden outrage? See you out on the bike then? Or not.

About Armstrong

About Armstrong

About Armstrong. It’s all about power – which to me has always seemed to mean money. Are the two distinguishable?
 

         B. A. - before Lance, there was a little European sport called cycling (actually it’s called professional road racing) which didn’t amount to a hill of beans in the tennis and golf context and probably didn’t add up to much stacked up next to football (American football) and baseball or even Association Football or soccer. Not financially that is; it was rich in talent and tradition and got you out of the house of a weekend. But no one got rich from it. Even the great champions had to ride all season and sometimes in the winter too to make a decent amount of money. Eddy Merckx used to ride Six Day events in the winter for the appearance money and the prize money that it brought him – we’re talking the Muhammad Ali of cycling here. I think most would place Merckx up there alongside Ali and perhaps Nicklaus, and Pele as the giants of sport; those who had been so dominant that no one else could get a look in.

         That was B. A. After Lance won his first tour it all changed. If you read his books you’ll find that he was more surprised than anyone. That he had to be persuaded to return Stateside for a day prior to fulfilling his kermesse commitments and it wasn’t until he actually saw the huge crowds on the streets of New York that he began to understand the impact his victory was having; after all, an American had won the Tour before. Lemond won three. With Lance it was different and the sponsors went bonkers. Nike alone pumped millions into making, marketing and maximizing sales of clothing and other accessories. But there was more; much more. Middle class America took to cycling and wanted more.

         Conversely, when Lance retired, the shit hit the fan. The sponsorship of a minority, non-telegenic sport, thousands of miles away in Europe dried up like a one day lake in a desert. Hence the power struggles. How to divvy up the remaining dosh!? If you look at the pro-sports that have their act together, especially golf and tennis, you don’t see unseemly squabbling over the delineation of power. They are administrated in an efficient and orderly manner. They have been since Mark McCormack spotted the huge potential of the new telly markets. Cycling on the other hand has suffered bitter infighting.

         Now let’s talk about drugs; please! Doping – goodness, such an outpouring of outrage! The whole world dopes; housewives on Valium, hangover merchants on aspirin, tea and coffee for goodness sakes, are drugs. So is beer and whisky; 1 in 4 hospital admissions are booze-fuelled.

         Now let’s look at cycling and drugs; first it was brandy, then poor old Tommy and the whizz; then it got more sophisticated and then it got considerably more sophisticated. But Maitre Jacques said it all in the 50’s; you can’t win the tour on mineral water. Or as my best mate Mart, bike shop owner and lifelong bikey says, “The crowds, the sponsors, the television, the sponsors and the team managements all demand levels of performance that simply aren’t natural, that cannot be attained without pharmaceutical help.” Whether it’s in yer steak, a syringe or a blood bag.

         What gets my goat, really makes me angry is this; there are many many people biting the hand that feeds them. Especially journalists. They are besmirching our sport to round up the circulation numbers. They should be thinking about who and what pays their bills, and writing about the wonderful, exciting newly competitive racing we’re all watching agog these days.

         So what’s going down? This; almost (but not quite; he had help, both corporate and private) singlehandedly L.A. moved cycling into a different league as far as the dosh was concerned. He did it by bringing the States on board, marketing it thru’ his name. Armstrong was branded. And boy did the brand move some units!

         So why is he being witch hunted now? Cos’ he’s gone and there’s no one to fill the void. The market has contracted and the USDA, the UCI and Uncle Tom Cobbley and all are fighting for what’s left in the cart. Nike aren’t interested in marketing a little Spanish lad with a penchant for cow’s arse, are they? If there was another Lance in the pipeline, it might all be a bit different. But there isn’t. Not yet. Maybe there never will be. The truth is he is and was a phenomenal athlete, far and away the best of his generation. Maybe the equivalent of Merckx; in longevity if not in all round ability.

         The real questions are how on earth Lance has acquired such vicious enemies; tho’ there’s no doubt that he was dominant and ruthless and a manipulator so was every other great champion. By definition he wouldn’t have achieved such success without those qualities. Hinault was at least as bad. And why everyone in the media, the sport’s government and administration and Joe Public seems determined to ignore the wonderfully open new racing (surely an indication that it’s cleaner than ever; really as well regulated as Cavendish would have us believe) and commit as open and public a Hari Kiri as is possible.

         Three indisputable facts: firstly, Lance Armstrong, whatever you feel about him, was and is a great champion. No one can take that away from him and he knows it. Two, the popularity of the sport, if not the pastime, is due to his Magnificent Seven. Three, the only loser here is the sport and its new young practitioners, boys and girls of all ages and at all levels.

         Why hasn’t he persisted in his legal battle? It’s massively, hugely expensive and Lance has chosen not to contest things in the past, saying publicly that he would rather spend the millions on cancer research than give it to the lawyers. Reading his books (well written by a Welsh girl; Sally Jenkins) it’s clear that all he really cares about is his kids and a cure for cancer.

         Personally I’ve always thought there’s a great deal more to cycling than elite men’s road racing. See you out on the bike then!

Dividing the Cake – the myth of economic growth

Dividing the Cake – the myth of economic growth

Mmmmmm - cut that cake

Rainforest - have YOU seen it anywhere?

The wisdom of nine year olds is a remarkable thing. For instance if you ask them what we breath, they will tell you oxygen. If you ask them where we get oxygen they will answer from trees, above all in the rain forest. If you ask them what happens when the rain forest is all gone……… well, suffice it to say that they are blessed with more wisdom than Obama, Putin, who ever rules China and India and the rest of the eejits allegedly in charge. They know. So do you. So do I. We choose to forget most of the time. The kids won’t have that luxury.

It’s the same with the cake; I like to think of it as a cake. If I was to tell a class of nine year olds to imagine a cake they would do it easily. If I ask them to divide it up, and it wouldn’t occur to them to do it other than equally, they would envision slices for all. Equal slices for all. If I then asked them that when the plate was empty was there any more cake they would all shout, “No!” Some might look at me as if I were a bit dim; a slice or two short of the full fruit cake. But the eejits in charge insist that there is more and more and more cake to be had.

What the fuck is that all about?!

Greed.

Plain and simple. Greed.

Good ol' days - Medieval Robber Barons

Here’s the thing; there’s more than enough to house, feed and clothe everyone, but if we do it equally the rich don’t get richer. Nothing’s changed. Tribal days; chiefy did good. Feudal days; robber barons and kings (if they stayed alive long enough) done good. Capitalism; capitalists do good. The poor do worse and worse. Kids get murdered for protesting child slavery; kids get abducted and sold into slavery, for organs, for prostitution; kids die of starvation, war-induced and self-induced; kids get killed in war zones. And that’s just kids.

All this is done in the name of “democracy” which is capitalist code for capitalism these days; or, really, it’s just the old concept of Empire updated. In tribal and feudal days it was plain old conquest, now it’s dressed up for popular consumption as economic growth. The bright ones among you will have spotted, as the bright ones (often those that think outside the box – like Hitler, Idi Amin, Uncle Joe Stalin) in class will spot, that if Mum just gets out some more ingredients, she can make another cake. What if the cupboard is bare? And the supermarket is closed? And it’s a Bank Holiday? What if the supermarket is open and the shelves are stocked but Mum doesn’t have any money …………

"Meet the new boss, same as the old boss." Pete Townsend

The fact is that the supermarket is being robbed blind left right and centre – as ever, not by the man on the Clapham omnibus or Citizen Joe Smith or by the kids, but by the biggest Robber Barons yet known to man. To ensure growth in the biggest industry on the planet, weapons, we need wars – real and imaginary. Often the one leads to the other. So we are back in the Middle Ages with the Christians against the Saracens. To ensure growth in the drugs industry we need illnesses and new ones are being discovered and developed every day; older, cheaper methods of curing people with healing, herbs, and prevention, are falling by the wayside and in some cases being suppressed. Herbalists have been censured and imprisoned in the U.S. To ensure growth in petrochemicals we must have more cars, plastic and “trains and boats and planes” to quote the ol’ song. The biggest culprit is the infernal combustion engine, which pollutes the air we try to breathe, and cuts down the rain forest that renews the oxygen in that air; it’s hard to know which’ll get us first, the cars or the chainsaw.

But supermarkets are not giving out plastic bags any more, you say. When I was a boy there weren’t supermarkets and there wasn’t packaging and recycling was done by the rag and bone man and people simply re-using things. I remember going to the Greengrocer with a string bag, I remember the milk bottles on the doorstep and real newspaper wrapping your fish and chips. Please; don’t start me on fish and chips! There simply wasn’t plastic all thru’ the house. But now we have growth. We played football in the street ‘cos there weren’t cars parked all down both sides of it. Growth has seen that off! But I recycle my paper, you tell me. There is an argument that the chemical processes involved in paper recycling do more damage than they prevent; another goes that by recycling we are diminishing the demand for the Scandis to plant more forests up there in the rarified atmosphere of the deep dark land of the winter. The truth is simpler; if the price isn’t good enough all your recycling gets lobbed into the landfill anyway ‘cos no one will buy it. Job done. Economic growth environmental waste management style – way to go!

Come back to the kids a minute – they’re the inheritors; if you give 2 six year olds a stick to play with they’ll have a ball ……… by the time they’re nine, they’ll have learnt they need a Gameboy, an X-box and a Wii to be happy – Oh yeah, and a telly and a computer in their room. Teacher? Not me, I’m fighting a rearguard action. Advertising, capitalism’s vanguard.

“Oh Lord won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz,

  My friends all have Porches, I must make amends”

Janis Joplin.

Janis