Tag Archives: Life

Rewriting history

With this Parliament limping its way to its dissolution, the Government is anxious to push through as much business as it possibly can. 

The consequence is a positive avalanche of statutory instruments.  This afternoon, I sat through three of them. One was an Order in Council relating to culture in Wales.  Elfyn Llwyd, the Plaid Cymru MP for Meirionnydd Nant Conwy, used the occasion as an opportunity to have a go at Cadw, the Welsh heritage body.

Elfyn clearly has a thing about Cadw.  He hadn’t a good word to say for it.  He had, he said, written to Cadw about the condition of a footpath in his constituency reputed to have been used by Owain Glyndŵr, but Cadw had shown no interest at all.

The problem with Cadw, he fulminated, was that it was fixated with Norman castles and couldn’t care less about anything that had happened before.

All very stirring stuff, until one remembers that the Norman dynasty came to an end in 1154 and Glyndŵr’s rising didn’t start until 1400.

No chivalry in London

Was interviewed yesterday by the BBC’s Bethan James, in advance of the Welsh party conference.

Bethan, who is five months pregnant, arrived wearing a London Underground “Baby on Board” badge.  I asked her if it worked.

“No, it doesn’t,” she said.  “People look at, read it, and then return to their papers.”

She then told me of an incident a few weeks ago, when a very heavily pregnant lady got on the very full Tube compartment in which Bethan was sitting.

“She was obviously distressed,” said Bethan.  “Nobody moved, so I got up and gave her my seat.  I then said in a very loud voice, ‘It has come to something when one pregnant woman has to give up her seat for another.’  But no one batted an eyelid.”

Just what has gone wrong with Londoners? 

If Boris wants to do a favour to pregnant women across the capital, he could do worse than order a Stand When You See A Baby On Board Badge poster campaign.

What’s in a name?

Wales on Sunday’s Matt Withers takes the BBC’s John Pienaar to task for allegedly getting the name of Plaid Cymru’s leader in the Welsh Assembly wrong:

It’s not too often that Plaid Cymru get much coverage on a UK-wide level, so they must have been pleased to hear their conference being discussed on Radio 5 Live’s Weekend News last Sunday night.

It was an in-depth discussion of the challenges and opportunities facing the party as they go into the general election – and really, a feature which could only have been improved had presenter John Pienaar got the party leader’s name right just once.

It’s Ieuan Wyn Jones, John. Not just Wyn Jones.

I have known Mr Jones since the late 1970s, when we worked together in a Ruthin law firm.  He was always known as plain Wyn to all the members of staff.

What’s more, I still call him Wyn.

And, more importantly, so does his wife.  Or, at least, she did the last time I spoke to him.

A strong heart

I received a letter this morning from one of my favourite regular correspondents: a 92 year-old lady who lives in a nursing home in the constituency.  I always enjoy hearing from her, because she invariably lends a touch of good-humoured sanity to the otherwise manic life of Westminster.

Her latest letter, however, is a touch sadder than usual.  She tells me that she is now, at the end of her long life, waiting to die.  She concludes:

“I can’t read this through – sight is failing, hearing is failing, the will to live has virtually failed.  But the heart goes on ticking. 

“A strong heart is the best friend all through life, but the worst enemy in the end.”

Probably the most poignant words I have read for a very long time.

Almost irresisitible

Among the invitations I received this morning was one to attend the International Coalition against Prohibition conference in The Hague on 15 March.

I have to say that I was sorely tempted, particularly when I learned that one of the speakers is to be Dr. Kamal Chaouachi, who is “the world’s leading expert on waterpipe smoking”.

How many lesser experts are there, I wonder? 

Sadly, I will be engaged on Parliamentary business that day.

A really good idea

Sitting in Euston station waiting for the train back to North Wales, I notice a book, apparently discarded.  On its cover is a peel-off label reading:

TRAVELLING BOOK

I’m not lost – I’m on a journey!

Pick me up, read and release me!

The label refers me to a website, www.bookcrossing.com.  There, I discover that:

BookCrossing is earth-friendly, and gives you a way to share your books, clear your shelves, and conserve precious resources at the same time. Through our own unique method of recycling reads, BookCrossers give life to books. A book registered on BookCrossing is ready for adventure.

Leave it on a park bench, a coffee shop, at a hotel on vacation. Share it with a friend or tuck it onto a bookshelf at the gym — anywhere it might find a new reader! What happens next is up to fate, and we never know where our books might travel. Track the book’s journey around the world as it is passed on from person to person.

I think that this is a tremendous idea.  I’ve signed up.

O’Brien is wrong; Terry deserved to be sacked

Mike O’Brien, Minister of State at the Department of Health, has decided to enter the debate over the sacking of John Terry as captain of the England football team.  Unfortunately, Mike has chosen to do so using the arguably inappropriate medium of Twitter, which, since it confines posts to a maximum of 140 characters, affords little opportunity for the development of reasoned debate.

Nevertheless, Mike, who is a highly intelligent lawyer, has apparently decided that his opinion on such a controversial moral issue can be satisfactorily encapsulated in fewer letters than those that appear on an HP sauce label, so here’s what he has to say:

The sacking of Terry is crass. Capello has bowed to tabloid pressure. Infidelity is bad but I saw no signs of fatigue in his football.

Sadly, Mike is missing the point, which is unfortunate, given that the whole point of Twitter is to be TO the point.  Terry has not been booted out of the England team (though many would say he should have been); he will, it would appear, still be gracing the turf of Wembley with his unfatigued presence, three lions emblazoned on his left breast.

No, Capello has dismissed Terry as captain of his country’s national side.  And Signor Capello was entirely right.

The captaincy of any national sporting side brings with it considerably more responsibility than that which comes with simply playing for it.  You become an ambassador for your country. You become, to use the hackneyed phrase, a role model.  Kids look up to you and aspire to be like you.  It’s a very heavy thing.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has lamented that Terry’s treatment by the media has, if anything, been far too lenient.  It is, he says, a matter of regret that “society has lost the sacred concept of faithfulness on staying true to one another during marriage”:

“Clearly, a lot of people think there’s no problem there and that’s a pity because adultery is adultery.”

Dr Williams is absolutely right, too.  Time was, for example, when adultery was a resigning issue for politicians.  Many would say it still ought to be, but that principle appears to have been watered down of late. We must await the next scandal to see what happens.

The irony of the Terry affair is that it should take an Italian to recognise that adultery should automatically disqualify an Englishman from leading his national side.

Capello, who once played for Rome, understands that, like Caesar’s wife, the captain of England should be above suspicion.

Separated at birth

Wales on Sunday’s Matt Withers notes that the new Welsh First Minister, Carwyn Jones, is taking a keen interest in the wintry conditions gripping the Principality and wonders whether Mr Jones has “mistaken himself” for chirpy  BBC Wales weatherman, Derek Brockway. 

It has to be said, in fairness, that it would not be an unreasonable mistake to make: 

Brockway

Jones

Let’s hope 2010 is a good one

May I take the opportunity of wishing a very happy New Year to all my readers and, in particular, to my regular contributors.

I’d guess that 2009 wasn’t the greatest year most of us have experienced.  2010 is going to be a big one, whatever happens.  I hope it will also be a good one for you and your family.

David Taylor MP

David Taylor was a highly respected, independent-minded Labour MP who will be missed on both sides of the House.

His death was announced on his website earlier this afternoon.  Couldn’t the Times have allowed just a short, decent interval to mark his passing, rather than crassly headlining its website report: Labour faces by-election test after MP death?

A happy and grateful Christmas

A wonderful start to Christmas yesterday evening, with the Christingle service at St Peter’s, Ruthin.  We drove through the Elwy valley, thick with snow, looking like a Christmas card in the twilight. 

Today, after morning service at St Paul’s, we returned home and put up the barricades against the cold.  There is no better place on earth at this time of year than home, and I can’t imagine how utterly awful it must be to be without one.

No matter how depressing the economic outlook, how dreadful the political climate, most of us have a huge amount for which we should be deeply grateful.

A very happy Christmas to all of you.

Balance your Bobbies

Essi Ahari, District Inspector for Colwyn Bay, and Dewi Roberts, his colleague in Ruthin, have drawn my attention to the new North Wales Police “Balance your Bobbies” website, which enables users to feed back their local policing priorities and see how well the police are doing in meeting them.

The site is easy to use, and fun, and I’d recommend you to give it a go.

The eighth exception

Father Tim Jones, Anglican priest of the parishes of St Lawrence and St Hilda, York, has delivered a sermon to his congregation telling them that, in some circumstances, it is permissible to go shoplifting, provided they choose the right sort of victim – which, in Father Jones’s terms, means the Tesco or Sainsbury on the retail park, rather than the eight ‘til late on the corner:

“I would ask that they do not steal from small family businesses, but from large national businesses, knowing that the costs are ultimately passed on to the rest of us in the form of higher prices.”

I see; it’s a kind of redistributive self-help.

But what about the eighth commandment?  I can’t recall that that was qualified in any significant way.  “Thou shalt not steal” seems pretty unequivocal.  Not a lot of wriggle room there.

Father Jones patiently explains:

“My advice does not contradict the Bible’s eighth commandment because God’s love for the poor and despised outweighs the property rights of the rich.”

Father Jones’s “advice”, in fact, is total, unadulterated baloney.  A sensible priest who wished to emulate God’s love of the “poor and despised” would offer them tireless, unconditional succour, comfort and support, rather than encourage them to break the law, with all the potentially devastating consequences that might flow from doing so.

It can be done.  And if he wants to see how, he could do a lot worse than visit his nearest branch of the Salvation Army.

Posh nosh in Tan y Lan

Last Thursday, Sara and I were delighted to visit the community centre in Old Colwyn, where we enjoyed a dinner sourced and prepared by members of the Tan y Lan Kidz Club.

The meal was excellent: well cooked, presented and served.  All the guests (who included ward councillors Brian Cossey and Cheryl Carlisle, community beat manager Mike Williams and parents of the hosts) thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

The club’s organiser, Jenny Hughes, plans to extend its activities next year by planting out a vegetable garden, so that the entire meal, from soil to plate, may be produced by the children.

The ability to cook is important and fundamental to a civilised society.  Jenny is doing a wonderful thing by helping the Kidz Club youngsters to discover its delights.

Howells of outrage

I am sorry to see that the Pontypridd MP, Kim Howells, will be standing down at the general election. 

As a minister, he was always forthright, yet courteous.  However, it was his outraged comment on the 2002 Turner Prize exhibition in Tate Britain that particularly endeared me and, I would guess, millions of others to the former Communist NUM official.

Having surveyed a display that included a suspended Perspex ceiling and a billboard describing a pornographic film, Howells left a note reading: “If this is the best that British artists can produce, then British art is lost.  It is cold, mechanical, conceptual bullshit.”

I have a feeling that Turner himself would have agreed.