The Good, the Bad and the rest...

Once again, drunks and hospitals are making the news. The Daily Post reports a Nurse at Ysbyty Glan Clwyd was punched in the face by a drunk 17-year-old as she tried to dress his wound. The youth then sank his teeth into the arm of hospital security guard Malcolm Owen, who was trying to restrain him. Medics watched in horror as the youth slapped his own father across the face in an uncontrollable rage in the minor injuries department in July last year. He was later arrested and then charged with two counts of actual bodily harm. But last night, the nurse told of her dismay to find the Crown Prosecution Service was dropping the case. The 39-year-old mum-of-two suffered a black eye and has been off work sick with stress ever since.

This isn’t an uncommon case; NHS A & E staff are in the front line when it comes to violent attacks, almost all fuelled by alcohol. But what should we be doing about it?

The main problem is that the security guard could only employ ‘reasonable force’ to restrain the yob when, in fact, what he probably needed was about 30 seconds of continuous tasering. Or a gentle tap on the head with - oh, an anvil, perhaps. More seriously, however, we end up paying for all this. The nurse in question has been off work with stress ever since, which means one nurse less, one extra salary to fund for her replacement and potential exposure to litigation for the hospital.

But does the point come when someone who has rendered themselves incapable by alcohol relinquishes their right to be treated? Yes - the tabloids would blazon headlines the first time it happened “Injured mum of 7 left to die by ambulance” and so on, but few would realise that the ‘injured mum’ was, perhaps, an 18 year old, totally sloshed, spitting, biting, scratching and swearing who had only herself to blame for her predicament. That’s because the drunken female would say what she wanted to the press, but the hospital and authorities would have to keep their mouths shut because we live in a society dominated by those who know their ‘rights’.

Perhaps it’s time to take a long hard look at our culture and start to create a society in which those who injure others through alcohol or intent actually forfeit certain rights. We’d have a big issue with both the European court and the civil rights organisations, who could argue that none of us has the right to be both judge and jury, and that’s a very valid point. But if it was my child or my wife being abused, then I really don’t think I’d worry too much about the abuser’s rights. But then, perhaps it’s a good job we have the courts.

Choo, choo!

On a much happier note the little trains are doing extremely well this year. People love trains, and the narrow gauge variety particularly so. If the WA and Welsh Highland can resolve the issue over the money paid to repair a retaining wall, then there will be a way to travel from Llandudno to Caernarfon by train - three, in fact. If the new MD at Arriva reads this, he might be inclined to look at the possibility of a single transport ticket to take folk on a round trip from Llandudno, through some of the most stunning scenery imaginable, on a combination of gauges and transport types. The only place folk would have to leave the railway would be the short run from Caernarfon to Bangor - possibly on an open top bus - to catch a train back to Llandudno. It would certainly need a fair bit of planning and organisation but the results in terms of visitors could be well worth it.

The area needs vision, it needs entrepreneurs and it needs the income generated by imaginative tourist ventures such as this. Let’s hope things soon get on the right track.

Carnivals

With the Notting Hill carnival in full swing, the Edinburgh festival midway through, Glynebourne just ending and a host of August bank holiday carnivals and mini-fests throughout the UK, perhaps it’s time to think about something for Llandudno and Colwyn Bay?

The Victorian Extravaganza was originally launched to kick-start the season because of the ‘new’ May Day bank holiday, and that was quickly followed by Colwyn’s Prom day. However, August is a time when, traditionally, families grab the last, desperate chance before Autumn and the new school term to visit the seaside. Perhaps we need a mini-carnival to celebrate the end of summer; with a bit of thought, we could devise one event for both towns.

To mount a carnival, one first needs to think of a theme. Just an ‘August’ carnival would leave people scratching their heads to think of anything Augusty (nothing springs immediately to mind, it has to be said) so the next step is to indulge in a bit of cunning research to find out what August 31st is well known for (the holiday falls on or around that time most years)

And it’s fairly interesting. On August 31st, in 1888, the First 'Jack the Ripper' victim was discovered in Buck's Row, London, Gaius Caligula, that master of coffee mornings and sheer niceness as a Roman Emperor was born, Thomas Edison patented the first movie projector, the United Kingdom pound saw the exchange rate of $5.00 to the Pound drop for the first time in 1930, Coca-Cola was first sold in Britain in the basement restaurant of Spence's department store in 1900, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin patented his invention of the rigid airship, known modestly as the Zeppelin and in 1745 Bonnie Prince Charlie reached Blair Castle Scotland, whilst in 1535 Pope Paul II deposed and excommunicated King Henry VIII, and that’s all on just one day.

So what sort of carnival could be held? Perhaps a Coke-sponsored, Greco-Roman pageant, depicting the birth of the film industry in Scotland and the rise of disestablishmentarianism, set in German back-alleys where nefarious serial killers lurked, all flanked by hot air balloons? Unfortunately, not a lot seems to have happened in Wales on that date. Unless we count the new Llandudno and Colwyn Bay Historical, Religious, Fiscal, Mass Murder, Slaughter and Technological Re-enactment society’s fun day on Bodafon and Rhos front.

Or maybe we’ll just grab an ice cream...

The end is nigh

Hardly seems ten minutes ago that we were looking forward to the school holidays, the buzz was all about preparing for the annual pilgrimage to Disneyland and the kids had wound themselves up into tightly coiled springs of dynamic excitement. Now, we’re approaching the final bank holiday of the year, the weather’s been as predictable as any British summer and - incredibly - thoughts are turning to Bonfire night, Halloween and Christmas.

Today, we did a big cut of the lawn; big, because it seems at least two weeks since we did the last, so dreadful has the weather been. It’s taken our local painter - a goldmine of hard work and great workmanship - two months to get the house painted because of the continuous rains, and, as the season winds down we’re looking to see how the summer has helped Llandudno.

Initially, hotel bookings were up, mainly because the Euro was far too high and the dollar was silly. Everyone was talking ‘staycation’, as though this latest travesty of the English language was in any way meaningful. Of course folk have started fleeing for the Canaries and deserting these shores, or so we’re meant to believe. In fact, Llandudno has been heaving for the past several weeks. The Trinity Players - a concert party performance group who hold concerts every Wednesday evening to raise money for charity - have been sold out for the past two weeks, having had to shut the doors early because there’s literally no room inside. Cafes have been reporting record visitor numbers and the cash tills in the high street have been ringing merrily for at least three weeks. But all good things come to an end.

As the schools reopen, and the whining schoolboy, with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school begins his peregrinations back to the classroom, Llandudno assumes a new lease of life; quieter, more orderly, better sales, safer roads and free of kids. Oh, it’s not that we don’t like kids; it’s just that some parents don’t accept the same standards of behaviour that we like to think we do. But there’s more.

September is a wonderful month. Chilly mornings, warm afternoons, misty evenings; leaves turning to wonderful shades of ochre and fields acquiring a quilting of silver light dew in the dawn; evenings drawing in and the rustle of crackling leaves underfoot. The United Kingdom must be the finest place on earth to live: four widely differing and sharply defined seasons, each arriving just as we’re getting heartily fed up with the last. And Snowdonia is the most magical of places, second only to Scotland (well, we’re Scottish:-).

Amid all the doom and gloom about the economy let’s enjoy our corner of the world with all its stunning beauty and magnificence. And best of all - it’s free...

Banking

Well, the bank holiday weekend is being ushered in with thunderstorms. It’s really a continuation of the UK summer that sees the Friday preceding the Bank Holiday weekend flooded out with torrential rain and howling wind. But this is Britain, isn’t it? And - if we’re honest - this is how a lot of our summers turn out.

The media, of course, will waffle on about global warming and the met office getting it all wrong, but when you’re a grown-up and you’ve learned that the media is not to be trusted - about anything - then you know that this is simply a normal British summer.

The media have a lot to answer for; they’re responsible - at the least - for misleading people about virtually everything, but they go further than that; they’re directly responsible for the deaths of children.

Let me explain.

Some years ago, the media - TV and the newspapers - allowed themselves to be duped by Dr Andrew Wakefield, when the individual in question decided to publish ill-conceived, massaged and mis-informed research about the MMR immunisation. They brayed about this long and hard, because it sells papers and gets people watching TV. That thousands of parents believed this rubbish and withheld the MMR vaccination from their children leading to the greatest measles outbreak in decades with serious potential and long-term health issues for the children involved, leading to brain damage and - in some cases - death - seems not to worry the media outlets one jot. They, of course, have taken care to cover their backs and only use words like ’alleged’, but this does not relieve them of the responsibility which they face. One man - Brian Deer - from the Sunday Times - has exposed Wakefield for the duplicitous individual he is; but this is little consolation for the hundreds of children damaged by a lack of MMR vaccination. It is possible, of course, to argue that parents should have been more aware; that they should have examined the details of the case and not believed the likes of the Mail or GMTV, and that they should have exercised some intelligence where the media are concerned. But for some, that’s not easy. And some will never recover.

The lesson, however, is very simple: if something makes a big splash in the media, then your initial reaction should always be to say - “I don’t believe it.” Read the details with care, then confirm - confirm - confirm the information from at least three different sources. Only then should you ever accept that something might have a grain of truth, somewhere, hidden within. There’s a very good reason evidence is necessary in academic research; it’s to stop people like Wakefield. But more importantly, it’s to stop what’s happening to kids right now.

Wind down

As the final week of the school holidays arrives, and children everywhere are looking with distaste at the thought of returning to school, Llandudno braces itself for the cheap holiday period - the months of September and October when the kids are back and the hotels and travel operators seize the opportunity to present deals to those who like their holidays unspoilt by screaming offspring.

It’s also a time of contrasts: the Daily Post has two singularly interesting articles (well, it has more, but we’ve only space for the two) which illustrate society’s ambivalent outlook towards the young. We read that - on the one hand - youths are responsible for the closure of Flint Castle to the Public whilst, on the other, we read that an ‘unknown hero’ rescued an unconscious five year-old from the sea in Llandudno, yesterday. The amount of space devoted to the yobs and - elsewhere - to warnings from the Police that the sixteen year-old recipients of the GCSE results tomorrow had better not get drunk is in stark contrast to the single column inch which describes the ‘unknown hero’ as a young man in his early 20s.

The simple fact is that our young people don’t get a good press - unless they happen to be in a vineyard, of course. Unhappily, stories of marauding, drunken yobs (an anagram of ‘boys’, BTW) sell more papers and attract more viewers than stories of youngsters involved in community work and self-improvment activities. But you might be surprised to know how much is done in that respect.

One of the oldest youth organisations - the Scouts - is strong in the area. A particularly good example is the Rhos Scout group; boys from that group devote each Wednesday afternoon to setting up the stage and seating for the Trinity Players’ weekly sell-out concerts. Over the years, Trinity have raised more than £80000 for charities, but setting up for the shows takes energy and time. Cue Rhos Scouts, who - with total reliability and compete integrity - have been arriving at the Church every Wednesday afternoon since the start of June to set up the staging, put out the chairs and do any other jobs that the Trinity Players need before their show. They do this not for financial reward - because they don’t get any, although the Scout Group does get a donation - but because it’s a part of what Scouts do.

The Welsh Scout Council - the governing body for all Scouts in Wales - also owns a large campsite and all-year accommodation venue at Lake Crafnant, and this site attracts Scouts, youth groups, Local Authorities and Schools from all over the UK and Europe. The Scouts’ sister organisation - the Guides - is no slouch either, and - despite remaining resolutely single-sex - is oversubscribed and full to bursting.

The Schools also run D of E award schemes, which see community involvement as a major strategy in the scheme and involve youngsters from 14 upwards in numerous community projects. In fact, the realty is that most of the teenagers in our community work hard, give of their time freely and constructively and are a major benefit to the society. Next time we see a group of drunken youths, let’s not forget that they represent only a small minority of the youngsters in our area.

Their passions burn...

It’s been an interesting week on the blog scene. Passions have run high over several issues, with MPs, Ex-Chief Constables and blog-owners all saying things which are evoking passionate responses from contributors and readers. Maybe it’s the weather.

Late August is such a strange time; wasps become irritating and aggressive, blood-sucking parasites make their appearance (no - the insects; well, who did you think - the Law Society’s AGM?), the warm, continuously sunny days of summer begin to shorten (er...wot?)...

Interestingly, research shows fairly conclusively that continuous bad weather can be just as bad for you as a highly stressful work environment. And the addition of all the other delights that late August brings - midges, wasps, more rain (“August, cold and damp and wet, brings more rain than any yet”), the interminable school holidays, GCSE results, the thoughts of Autumn - all combine to make what’s not been the greatest summer ever seem positively benign by comparison. Warm, sunny weather tends to make folk feel optimistic and uplifted. The news that a hurricane is descending on us tomorrow as we scratch the numerous midge bites and dodge wasps intent on a quick sugary snack while we try to read the self-effacing retirement eulogy of Richard Brunstrom and smack the fleas jumping off the hedgehog which the youngest has just presented to us in bed along with a cup of cold tea really becomes the icing on the carrot cake.

Of course, the met office may well be wrong about the forthcoming meteorological Armageddon; after all, its track record in weather forecasting this summer has been slightly less accurate than the average medium’s lottery predictions but they did say it would lessen and move North...hmmm. The uk weatherworld forums reveal that we at least escaped snow this summer, whereas in June, 1791 and 1975 sleet & snow showers fell in many parts of the country and as far south as Portsmouth. On June 7 1985 too, sleet fell at Birmingham. Later on, on the 5th, heavy rain with thunder fell in parts of the Midlands and Herefordshire; an inch (25mm) fell in an hour at Wigmore (Herefordshire).
Which brings us neatly back to forums in general.

This blog first saw the light of day because of what we perceived as the stark mis-management of a local forum. A lot’s happened since then, not the least of which has been the transfer of the forum to the community, the establishment of a new management with a new philosophy and outlook (and lots of extra work for Carneades (!)) and a slow but steady return to the forums by those who previously posted with enthusiasm. Of course, it’s early days and the international brigades of spammers who’ve recently launched yet another of their jolly japes make a mockery of membership figures, and always will but forums around the world are following the same patterns; comparatively low levels of postings vis a vis high numbers of members. But the past is the past; it’s very much what’s happening now that matters, and what is happening is that those who value communities and who enjoy the experience of meeting in cyber-space are growing, both in number and in sureness of touch and the two local forums that have experienced such a traumatic recent past are now starting to find their feet and grow once again.

The question of ‘forum or blog’ was posed here in March. The answer is curiously simple: both are needed in any dynamic community. Blogs are for opinions but forums are for people. And most people place integrity, openness and honesty above all else. In life, they seem the most important qualities and they’re even more so in a forum.

Bumper crop

Our colonial cousins - when they're not seeking ways to eliminate the Scottish Parliament - do have a sharp sense of humour. Here's a list of genune bumper stckers seen on their cars:


· The sex was so good that even the neighbors had a cigarette.

· Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.

· I used to have a handle on life, but it broke.

· Don't take life too seriously, you won't get out alive.

· WANTED: Meaningful overnight relationship.

· BEER: It's not just for breakfast anymore.

· I got a gun for my wife, best trade I ever made.

· So you're a feminist...Isn't that cute!

· Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.

· I'm not a complete idiot, some parts are missing.

· I'm just driving this way to p*** you off.

· Keep honking; I'm reloading.

· As long as there are tests, there will be prayer in schools.

· God must love stupid people, he made so many.

· Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

· It IS as BAD as you think, and they ARE out to get you.

· I took an IQ test and the results were negative.

· Always remember you're unique, just like everyone else.

· Very funny, Scotty. Now beam down my clothes.

'Tis the season to be silly

A quick glance through the headlines this week is enough to convince even the most hardened sceptic that the ‘silly season’ is now in full swing. From exploding microwaves and piranha-friendly night clubs to Police suggestions that it might not altogether be a good thing to be checking emails, sorting out accounts and doing the crossword whilst barrelling down the A55 in a ten-ton lorry, the media are scouring the country for any news they can find.

Whether this change in pace from the relentless political diarrhoea we assimilate every other day of the year is to be welcomed depends largely on your point of view. The media only have so much space, and what they have is normally subsumed under the welter of spin from our illustrious representatives. However, there’s almost certainly a limit to the number of mathematical rabbits, flying cars or Elvis encounters we can take. Happily, TV often flies to the rescue.

Last night, the newly revamped X Factor hit the screen, replete with St Simon’s holy presence in his recently acknowledged manifestation as Saviour of ITV. If you haven’t yet noticed, ITV’s fare is currently limited to Corrie, three old movies per night and ads for X Factor as ITV is starring in its own soap “End of the Road”, an exciting new drama starring everyone employed by the group about a TV company that seeks to emulate the great banks of our time, such as Northern Rock and Hbos, by slithering ignominiously into bankruptcy.

The days of staggeringly high salaries at ITV are a thing of the past, as the group desperately tries to find a solution to its current predicament. But should we worry about the loss of a private company in the entertainment industry? After all, we have Sky, Virgin..the DVD player...

In fact, ITV is a curious anomaly; a business in the cut-throat world of entertainment but a business specifically established to improve that world. Originally given birth by a government anxious that BBC should not be the sole provider of what we watch, ITV has produced some of the best Drama and entertainment in the history of the medium. Sherlock Holmes, Upstairs, Downstairs, Midsomer Murders, Prime Suspect, Foyle’s War, The Jeremy Kyle show......well, everyone’s entitled to make one massive error. The point is, ITV has had to attract viewers from the BBC, whose reaction has then been to compete with ITV and this competition has been going on for over 50 years, with the result that we in the UK make some of the world’s best Television.

ITV, however, is losing viewers to the double-jeopardy of dwindling advertising revenue and cable, satellite and internet TV. And that’s not good news for any of us.

The biggest alternative provider - Sky - makes virtually none of its own shows (the others don’t make any) but relies instead on US imports. Of course, there have been some astonishingly wonderful US shows, such as West Wing and the Sopranos, but these don’t represent the average, merely the cream, and US TV is much more in the grip of its bean counters. We actually need ITV, because we need some quintessentially British drama and we need the competitive element with the BBC that inspires great entertainment. And if you’re still unconvinced, think what life would be like if Endemol were the only providers; anyone for 24 hour 7 day a week Big Brother?

Up, up and away!

Year 11 and choices...

We're devoting a second blog to the choices facing year 11 this week, as it's such a critical time and year 11 marks a turning point - the end of compulsory schooling. So - if you're year 11 or you have a relative who's in that year, read on...

In the sixties, going to University or Polytechnic was something you aspired to; university blazers (hard to believe, isn't it?) were worn with pride, the only choices for post-16 education were the sixth forms attached to Grammar schools and getting into a sixth form was the real battle. There were no GCSEs, of course; then, only the GCE and CSE existed, the GCE for the 'brainy' top 10% and the CSE for the rest. They were also based on final examinations; two, two-hour papers, sat in stifling heat in June in a school hall or gym, with the results being mailed out to your home some eight weeks later.

With the advent of coursework, less rigorous subject demands and league tables, which have forced teachers to circumvent Government insistence on pupils being able to read and write at least moderately, pass rates have been rising, year on year. We said yesterday that exams are just as hard - but we only meant A level. GCSEs have become progressively easier to pass for years, and mainly through two factors: coursework and content. Because coursework is done 'out of sight' of the teacher, cunning ways of circumventing the rules are widely employed, whilst coursework also favours girls, who delight in precision, neatness and methodical presentation. The upshot of all this is that not to pass your GCSE is something you have to work at; you can get marks simply by turning up and writing your name on a paper. The brighter candidates, of course, now routinely garner a dozen A*s, and the entire experience has become devalued in the rush to make everyone feel good about themselves.

All this has a knock-on effect, however; as potential uni students are now discovering, there are so many with an A in the A level results, that even they are now having to fight hard to get into any of the top ten universities.

So how do you decide whether to stay at your present school or move to another school or the college?

Stay or change?

The arguments are pretty straightforward, but not so easy if you already attend somewhere like Eirias High, so we'll deal with them first. Alone of all the secondary schools in the Colwyn Bay and Llandudno area, Eirias is entirely up-front about their results. This is because they can afford to be. Their results are - to put it simply - always excellent, and they routinely get more into the top ten universities than any other school. This makes your choice tough, because - if you want to study at a place which has a proven track record of outstanding success in the crucial year 13 - you really need to stay at Eirias.

For those at all the remaining schools, the arguments for staying or moving fall into two categories:

• Social
• Academic

In the first category, moving to a new school or the college means you make new friends, you're almost certainly treated differently, and your experience is widened. You also encounter different structures and ways of working, and this can be very useful later in life.

In the second category, some places offer different types of examination. For example, the College mounts the International Baccalaureate, an examination course which is held in great esteem by universities across Europe while Ysgol Bryn Elian runs the home-grown version - the Welsh Baccalaureate. Both these examination courses offer a real alternative to the traditional A level approach and are worth exploring. However, as we've said earlier, treat with caution any place that doesn't publish their results in full. That needs some explanation.

How to read results (from the places that actually publish them)

With results, Schools become masters at obfuscation. So what should you be looking for? Very simply, the percentages that got the top grades: at A level, that's A, B and C. Forget the rest. At GCSE, they should state the percentages that gained A*, A and B grades. Watch out for phrases like "almost 100% gained a pass". That's as close to meaningless as it's possible to get. Why? Because it can mean that the entire cohort gained E grades at A level and nothing higher, which takes some doing, especially when you realise that all schools will generally try to ease out students who are clearly not gong to make the grade.

So look for results, research the subjects offered and talk to a lot of different people, then talk to the place you want to attend before enrolment day. And good luck!

Up again

As predicted on this blog, last week, the pass rate at A level was up yet again and - also as predicted - there's the usual chorus of those who argue the examinations are becoming easier. Actually, they're not, but there are a host of reasons why the grades are getting better, most related to the teachers' remarkable capacity to use the examination system. And there's no doubt that some subjects are easier than others, and that a lot more of those subjects are now available.

However, what matters is not - as some might think - the overall results but what they mean for those getting their GCSE results next Thursday.

While GCSEs in themselves are not particularly difficult exams to pass for those with a reasonable intellect and good study habits, the better and brighter year 11 students will have noticed something interesting happening between January and May this year. Their teachers will have become far less distant, far more encouraging and positive and even - in some cases - downright friendly. So why the change?

It's simple. Jobs depend on being able to attract the better students back into the sixth form - years 12 and 13 in newspeak - and teaching for many teachers becomes a far more interesting and enjoyable task when working with those students who actively want to be in school, rather than being forced to attend. However, this being a cautionary tale, it's extremely important for bright year 11 students to realise that almost all teachers will encourage them to return only to their own school to study, which may well not be in their best interests. In fact, we'd go further and say that potential FE candidates should always seek objective and impartial advice as to which school to attend for their A level studies.

One impartial indicator is the results of each school or college at A level, so it makes a lot of sense to find out what these are, before committing to a future course. Of the three big state schools in Colwyn bay and Llandudno, only Eirias lists any results, which reveal that a staggering 57% of the school's A level students gained As or Bs and bucking the national trend, students achieved a particularly impressive percentage of A/B results in science subjects, led by 100 per cent pass rate in Further Maths, Maths (88 per cent), Chemistry (81 per cent) and Physics (77 per cent).

GCSEs are merely a stepping stone - and not a particularly difficult one - to the real life-changing examinations: A levels. It makes a lot of sense to get the choice of which school to attend for your sixth form spot on, as an error in that could have undesirable consequences later. Bigger schools can offer more choice in subjects, since the larger the sixth form, the more options there are for the time tablers. Making a move away from your friends and the school and teachers you've known for five years is never gong to be easy, but it could be the best decision you ever make.

So - before you get your GCSE results, here's what you should do:

• Find out exactly what the A level results for all the local schools or colleges were
• If you can't find them out easily, ask yourself why you can't. Schools who don't publish their results or percentages always have reasons, but it's your future that matters so if they're not published, it might be wiser to look elsewhere.
• Find out exactly what subjects and what combination of subjects you can take at all the schools; that information should be on their websites.
  
• Find out what percentage of their A level students get to universities; that's also a very important factor, since it tells you how good they are at helping you out.
• Finally, talk to your friends and see what information they've found out. Remember - facts and not promises are what you need before making such a critical decision. Once you've decided, if you want to switch to another school or the college, give them a call to make sure they can accept you.

Remember - your future is what matters, and you generally only have one chance to get this next bit right. Don't take a chance - take impartial advice.

Take twenty of these and come back in a week

The news that a loan shark who exploited customers by charging annual percentage rates of up to 149,000% is back behind bars should come as no surprise. Legislation now protects those who can't work out just how iniquitous these interest rates really are or who lack absolutely basic maths skills. But it does beg the question as to exactly how far any government should go in protecting people against themselves. In the UK, we live in a country where the government has gone a long way down the road of the 'nanny state', and we wonder if that's necessarily doing anyone a favour.

There was a time when you could buy 200 paracetamol at a time, ideal for those really bad Monday mornings, but now we're all limited to about 20, packaged so creatively you'd need a suitcase for enough to do yourself in with. Buy glue in a DIY store, now, and the sales assistants regard you with the same disdain normally reserved for the recognised Crystal Meth addict, and subject you to a minor inquisition before you can pay for it. Try to purchase anything containing anything remotely effective against headaches in a pharmacy and the boots staff, lacking only gas grenades and tasers, subject you to little short of an interrogation, limit what you can buy and generally make you feel as though you're a hardened criminal.

Of course, a lot of this is down to those who firmly belief in 'rights' but have trouble with the concept of 'responsibilities'. Many years ago, the Liverpool council - in the heyday of the high-rise flat - built an estate called 'Netherley'. Netherley was a disaster for many reasons, and has long been demolished, but in the early days, when the Labour council was desperately trying to help what it saw as 'the disadvantaged', it built a play area in a nice, green field, just across the ring road of the estate. That had to be closed, when the mothers on the estate held countless demonstration because the council hadn't built a bridge across the road. They singularly failed to grasp that parents have some responsibilities for seeing their kids are safe.

We see it every summer season here, too; angry visitors write letters of complaint because the Ormes have steep sides and no fencing, or because the sea gulls swipe people's ice creams. The anti-smacking brigade wants all forms of even minor taps outlawed and the law will ensure you get a criminal record if you defend yourself against a burglar who breaks into your house late at night.

These are not political issues; they are examples of how far governments of any colour will go in response to campaigns run in the moronic tabloids. When Dunblane happened, subsequent and hastily enacted legislation ensured that now the only people who can easily get hold of a pistol are criminals. Depressingly, the signs are that it will only get worse. As intelligent, career-oriented high-flying women defer having children until much later in life and the correspondingly uneducated, hapless, truanting and troublesome teenage girls plunge headlong into pregnancy at the earliest opportunity so they can have someone that depends on them to make their shallow, unfulfilled existence seem almost meaningful, a dreadful capability gap is opening, a chasm of missed opportunity, dismally depressing existence and - above all - a life of total dependence on the 'council', where only 'rights' exist and absolutely no responsibility.

Perhaps it's time to take drastic action and allow people to regain control over their own lives. But that's probably hoping for too much...

It just ain't fair

When you think the universe is out to get you, you're probably right. Here's a list of laws for life...


Murphy's First Law for Wives:
If you ask your husband to pick up five items at the store and then you add one more as an afterthought, he will forget two of the first five.
Kauffman's Paradox of the Corporation:
The less important you are to the corporation, the more your tardiness or absence is noticed.

The Salary Axiom:
The pay raise is just large enough to increase your taxes and just small enough to have no effect on your take-home pay.

Miller's Law of Insurance:
Insurance covers everything except what happens.

First Law of Living:
As soon as you start doing what you always wanted to be doing, you'll want to be doing something else.

Weiner's Law of Libraries:
There are no answers, only cross-references.

Isaac's Strange Rule of Staleness:
Any food that starts out hard will soften when stale. Any food that starts out soft will harden when stale.

The Grocery Bag Law:
The candy bar you planned to eat on the way home from the market is always hidden at the bottom of the grocery bag.

Lampner's Law of Employment:
When leaving work late, you will go unnoticed. When you leave work early, you will meet the boss in the parking lot.

Carfull...!

Well, you can tell it's summertime. Cars flying off cliffs, kids using rubber rings and airbeds to try to cross the channel and barbies quietly rusting away, in a pool of rainwater that's conspired to turn most folks' lawns into pale imitations of Florida's Everglades. In the latest incident, an 11-year-old girl narrowly escaped from a car just before it rolled off a cliff in Benllech, crashing into rocks and the sea.
A Royal National Lifeboat Institution spokesman said the girl was in the car listening to music on Saturday when she accidentally knocked the handbrake off. Well, easy to do, I suppose. I mean - handbrake, steering wheel, nuclear launch button - who hasn't made these sorts of silly mistakes in their lives? Although what surprised us most was that it wasn't immediately followed by calls to abolish cliffs...

They used to call the period between Parliament knocking off for the extended holiday of a length MPs begrudge people who actually work for a living and Parliament re-opening, some time in Autumn, the 'silly season' because newspapers - anxious to maintain circulation at all costs - couldn't get their reliable daily fare of ministerial gaffes and party bickering to fill the pages opposite bare-breasted beauties claiming to have met Elvis while holidaying on the moon. It's actually a bit of a misnomer, because things don't get much sillier than when Parliament's doing its stuff. However, it does mean that real news - rather than opinions - actually tends to appear.

Over the years, people have asked why the media only report bad news. Why don't we hear about good things, for a change? The answer's simple of course; only bad news sells papers. People don't want to buy a paper which only reports positives. The local blogs are an excellent example of this phenomenon; readership is never higher than when there's controversy, either in the articles or in the comments. Or - in our case - than when we're running pictures of Naturists. Which is why the image at the top of today's offering has nothing whatsoever to do with the blog's content. Well, come on; we have to get the figures back up somehow, don't we?

Today

Two hundred and thirty two years ago today we were trounced by the Yanks at the battle of Bennington. Of course, we enjoyed revenge when - three years later - we clobbered them in the Battle of Camden. And three hundred and eighty nine years ago yesterday, the Mayflower had just set off on the voyage that was to ultimately end in our NHS being savaged by people who have to be told where London is and, when they find it, try, repeatedly, to buy Tower Bridge.

Despite all this, we do love 'em. But powerful as our colonial cousins are, they remain an enigmatic mix of culture and populist tripe, sophistication and decadence and are - as a people - curiously unaware of the world around them. USA today relegates world shattering events to a few column inches on the back pages; the main TV news inevitably centres around US events and the US banking system cannot come to grips with Sterling.

There's a reason our currency is called Sterling, of course, and a reason why we use the same word to describe anything of outstanding quality. Other languages simply can't do it and to think of describing a beautiful piece of silverware as 'Euro' is enough to make you turn to drink. However, back in the land of milk and cookies, the US political system is currently using us to try to stop Obama's promised reformation of the US health system. 'Service' would be too strong a word, but the 'haves' in the US - unendearingly - and Gallicly - termed 'Republicans' - are out to stop him, because they don't like the thought that everyone should get decent health care as a matter of policy. Why not? Because if only those who can pay get it, then there won't be any deterioration of the system. Or so they think. But then, never forget; it was these same sophisticates who voted in George Dubya, with his stunning, world class intellect and superb public speaking and who also, incidentally, back that doyen of culture and learning, Sarah Palin.

Of course, they're allowed to behave as badly as they want in their own nest, but when they start taking a pop at our NHS then enough is enough. We should remind them that the greatest ever film director was British (Hitchock), Gershwin learnt everything he knew about music from the French, London doesn't have to have 'England' after it in every Hollwood film and, to cap it all, not only were they late for two world wars, but they nicked the Jet engine plans from us and never gave us anything in return. And they call the French for everything!

Forums Vs Blogs

With the reboot of the Llandudno and Colwyn Bay local forums, it's a good time to see what the deeper differences are between Blogs and Forums.

As we've said before, Blogs are opinionated; they're essentially about one (or a few) individual's thoughts on specific issues. In that aspect, this blog rather breaks the mould, in the sense that its specificity is limited to local but mainly non-controversial issues. We also try to be light-hearted, whilst commenting on things about which we have some appreciation but which we hope won't depress folk too much.

Forums differ in one very important way: they act as mutual support and information centres, where everyone has an equal say in the 'conversations' that take place. On a blog, anyone can comment, but the interactivity in the comment section is limited, not least because you have to call up the comments page before you can see it.

On forums, registered users can initiate topics, make observations, ask for help or simply comment on some aspect of almost anything not prohibited by the forums' own rules. Most forums cover wide geographical areas, but what makes the Llandudno and Colwyn Bay forums different is that they tap into the wealth of fondness many have for the two areas, bringing quite a few people that enjoyed holidays here in the past into the forums. They're not just repositories for past memories, however; they're active, vibrant communities with a potentially strong support system, and that's probably the most salient argument in favour of a forum.

Detractors would argue that forums soon become clogged with argument and discord, but that's not necessarily the case. Generally speaking, passionate postings receive equally passionate responses, so one helpful analogy is to imagine you're chatting to someone face to face in a cafe when you're on a forum. Because forums allow for a certain degree of anonymity - understandable, given the ubiquity of the internet - some people develop a tendency to behave on a forum in ways they wouldn't consider in face-to-face encounters with people. But usually forums acquire a membership base of decent and well-meaning people, and these folk can breathe new life into a damaged or old format by their generosity and kindness.

Communities need blogs; they need the hawk-like tenacity of Oscar's, the detailed observational snapshots of the Council Chamber, the community centred outlook of John Oddy's and - we hope - the sometimes slightly zany outlook of ours. But they need forums too, and the people that make those forums work. Together, they represent an inexorable movement towards true community participation in the decisions which affect us all.

Wozzat?

Tonight marks the last time we'll get a clear view of the Perseids. Of course, with the UK summer being its usual resplendent self, all we've been able to see for the last week is a watery, cloud-filled vault that manages to conceal just about anything really interesting.

So - wot are these 'ere Perseids, then? Well, it's a big load of rocks that thump into our planet every July and August. Best seen in the hours immediately preceding dawn (good news for poachers, then:-) they clobber our little waterworld with frightening speed, about 23000 mph (hope they watch out for speed cameras) and zip across the sky before burning up.

Here's some little known facts about meteors: in an average week, about 200 tons of them hit the Earth and get vaporised. A meteor differs from a meteorite, in that only the latter actually makes landfall. The former disappears in a puff of smoke. And the things that hit the atmosphere are actually meteoroids, which become Meteors when you see them and their light, and meteorites when they land in your back garden.

Final tip: if you've never seen one of these things, don't imagine it to be anything cataclysmic. There's no sound (well, think how far up they are) and all you'll see will be a pencil-thin line of light which suddenly zaps across the firmament - almost instantaneously. Having said that, it's a great experience, and definitely one to show the kids. Just take a sheet on which to lie down and watch; gets mighty painful craning your neck backwards for an hour or so.

Last minute deals

This time of the year is a curious mix of the phlegmatic, the complacent and the panicky. Most will have no idea why, but anyone with a child at school in their 11th or 13th year will know exactly. In a little over a week, 'A' level results will be published, bringing terror, panic, euphoria or resignation to the 18 year old recipients. This is the day when it all comes together - or falls apart, as the case may be.

The UK's system of announcing results means that large numbers of youngsters will be scouring the web, attempting to confirm their places in University, or attempting to find one that will take them if their results are not quite what they'd hoped for, all within the same couple of hours.

The timing of all this is also quite interesting. Just when many are trying to hop a flight to Majorca on a last-minute, all-in, sand-'n-sun deal, and Ospreys are hoping for a few quiet months on the sun-kissed equatorial plains, the parents of year 11 and 13 offspring are discovering that there is such a thing as hell. In exactly the same way that almost from the moment the long school holidays started when we were children, the shops would erect their cheery 'Back to School!' signs, igniting such loathing and fury from us eleven-year-olds that we spent hours consciously re-designing ancient but highly effective mediaeval torture appliances to be used on the management of such places, the publication dates of the examinations as they near, pry apart the previously intact blasé façades of confidence and coolness of the students, gradually and persistently reducing them to neurotic, nervous wrecks, a transformation that adds such a lot to any family holiday.

This year we're going to make some predictions. First - results will be better - albeit only slightly better - than last.

Second - the media will run countless stories alleging a decline in examination standards, numerous 'experts' will be wheeled out from each camp to refute or confirm these allegations and the students themselves won't give a damn.

Third, most students will get into a university - somewhere. The hard-working, lucky and bright sparks will get their first choice. The unlucky, less well-organised and perhaps not quite so bright will combine to bring the telephone network almost to a standstill and the internet crashing down as they desperately scrabble for a place studying something, somewhere.

The curious thing is that amid all this panic, thrashing about and euphoric catalepsy, very little thought will have been given to the teachers themselves. And good teachers are the ones always responsible for that magic that can make the difference to any year 11 or 13 student's chances. When the envelopes are opened, let's remember the people involved in getting those results.

They're off!

The redevelopment of the two local forums - Llandudno Local and Colwyn Bay Local - is now well under way, following a turbulent couple of weeks. They're both under new management, although the names associated with each - Cllr John Oddy, Ian (Carneades) and Kindways will be familiar to many, and we sincerely hope that the exisiting members of each will come together to make these forums shining examples of what Virtual Communities should be. We're also hoping that others will come forward and join the team looking after what we hope will be vibrant and dynamic communities, reflecting in a very real way the best the two towns have to offer in terms of mutual support and community action.

Forums - virtual communities - are developments of the old bulletin boards, and once acted merely as message boards, almost akin to Twitter. Today, however, the modern forum software allows extensive customisation and the opportunity for members to vote, participate in online quizzes, games, debates and discussions and–particularly relevant to us–they can allow the creation of photo galleries and the archiving of material relevant to the history and life of the area.


The facilities for all this are being provided free of charge by Kindways, and this is no mean undertaking. Running any forum can and does involve a huge amount of time, energy and effort, and Kindways are demonstrating a very real commitment to the community by doing this. Everyone involved, however, will be unpaid and volunteering, giving of their own time and effort willingly. This marks a new start for the communities of Colwyn Bay and Llandudno, and one which we hope will surpass the expectations of the members.

Mr Craig Ollerton

Mr Ollerton has contacted us to apologise for the recent issues that arose some two weeks ago and to which reference is made in a blog of that date. The matter - from our perspective - is now closed and we wish him all the best for the future in whatever he chooses to do.

Becuse of the sensitive nature of this entire incident, we do not feel it appropriate to publish any comments which refer to this post. Thank you for your understanding.

Bottled...

Police uncovered a “mini museum” of bottles when they raided grandad Seisling Floppet's home in Abergele following a tip off on the Crimestoppers hotline, prosecutor James Neary told Llandudno Magistrates Court yesterday.

He pleaded guilty to one count of possessing eight bottles of rare vintages.

His solicitor said: “He was under the impression that the collection was so old he was not committing an offence. He’s a pretty scared person. He has never been in trouble before.”

District Judge Richard Williams said: “This is somebody who had an unhealthy interest in glass bottles who must have known he was proscribed from having them. I am asked to accept that no money changed hands.”

After the case North Wales police Sergeant Rob Taylor said: “I am delighted. glass bottle collecting was a Victorian pastime but even 100 years later people think they can still do it. But some are very rare and the consequences are that they are driving these very glass suppliers towards extinction.”

RSPB (Royal Society for the Preservation of Bottles) investigations officer James Leotard said: “The message from this case is that the courts and society will not tolerate bottle collecting. It should be a thing of the past.”

Bottle hoarder Floppet yesterday insisted he’d done nothing wrong, and said his collecting was merely a “hobby”. Speaking to the Daily Host at his home after the court case, he revealed he also has a collection of ceramic bottles. And he has collections of clay pipes, gramophone needle boxes and Derby County FC football programmes, among other nick nacks.

Floppet, who described himself as a practising Christian, said: “I started collecting them in 1960 aged nine. I remember Telstar was in the charts. My father offered me some empty bottles as a gift. I’ve not been caught drinking and driving. My little vice is collecting things. It is only a hobby. I didn’t know it was wrong. I thought it came under the same rules as taxidermy.”

He added: “Some of the bottles are probably from the 30s or even Victorian times. I feel sorry for the glass makers that have gone but they are long dead. I don’t go into recycling bins. If you climbed up to a recycling bin and fell, your life would be over – just for some empty bottles.”

The former joiner and cabinet maker criticised the anonymous person who tipped-off police about his collection, saying: “It was a horrible thing to do.”Floppet, who receives Jobseekers Allowance, plans to sell off some collectables to boost his income. He said: “They will be my pension. I’ve been offered £15 for one bottle.”

Time to weigh in

The Beeb reports that - from next month - we'll be able to have an interactive say in what we think the police should be doing. The rather strangely called "Balance your Bobbies" will allow us to input our postcode, then define what we think should be the force's priorities in resource terms. Rhian Rees Roberts, a policy officer with the police authority, said: "This is a UK first and, we believe, a revolutionary idea."

Hmmm. It was bound to happen, sooner or later, that those whose sole job is enforcing the law should then ask for ideas on which bits they should be enforcing. The Police argument for the introduction of this is simply that there are 'limited resources', a phrase guaranteed to win first prize at the 'Blindingly Obvious Pronouncements' awards. But it sets an interesting - if not intriguing - precedent. If those who flout the law decide to engineer responses that will downgrade their particular brand of criminality, can we look forward to hot spots of drunken crime, untouched by the law, since the majority of the area's denizens think removing dog dirt is more important?

Why stop there, however? If this exercise in electronic democracy succeeds, then why not extend it to the NHS? Imagine the fun that could be had making suggestions about how the money for health centres could be spent.

"Er...right, then. The results from the latest consultation are in, people, and there are going to be one or two changes. First off, we've got to install a new...er, pinball machine in the waiting area. Second, we've got to change the info on the welcome display screen. Seems the patients want to read a selection of jokes rather than the vital information it provides. Finally, we're getting a new hi-fi system, that'll play the top twenty on a rotating basis."

"But this is outrageous! This is a health centre, not a drop-in shop!"

"Oh, and we're all going to have to work from nine to midnight."

It won't stop there, of course. Schools will have pupils deciding lesson content, Churches will have to open Cryptoteques and local councils will actually have to explain the reasoning behind their more bizarre decisions. Mind you, it'll only go so far. Once those in Westminster realise the truly dangerous threat behind this sinister and insidious movement, they'll nip it in the bud. After all, they couldn't risk the people getting involved in real democracy, now, could they?

Depression

After yesterday's lighter look at life, the news that Llandudno has seen more shops shut than anywhere else in North Wales since the beginning of 2009, with 18.5% of its 139 town centre premises lying vacant, compared to just 2% last year, doesn't bring cheer to the heart.
In Colwyn Bay, 5.4% of the resort’s 85 shop premises are not being used but no one can deny that Mostyn Street is looking very depressed at the moment.


There are those who say it's tough luck, and that the best will survive, and that this process is simply weeding out the less capable or viable shops. Others argue that the opening of Parc Llandudno has done a lot of damage to the high street shops, still others that it's the free parking in the retail parks that draws shoppers out of the high street. Some, of course, would argue that this is simply retail evolution taking place.

It's true that the big stores have realised - albeit somewhat belatedly in certain cases - the significance in the burgeoning growth of the internet and have invested in comprehensive online shopping sites. Interestingly, Tesco was the only food store delivering to the likes of Trefriw and Betws until a few weeks ago, when both Somerfield and Sainsbury's expanded their policy to include free delivery to all customers in the far flung rural outback of Llanrwst.

And it's hard to argue against the advantages of having all your goodies delivered to your door for free when compared with the queuing, hassle and driving to get it all yourself. But the high street of any town isn't simply about shopping. It's also about community - a place where you meet people, talk about the weather, natter about the inconsequentialities of life. It's a place where we pass the time of day with folk and meet the visitors that come to our great towns. And in tiny shops, where time simply doesn't have the same meaning and the gentle currents of entropy seem to permeate the very atmosphere, it's also a place where you can still get first class advice if you've got a problem, or want to know the pros and cons of something you're considering buying. These places - these little gems of retail intercourse - are what make our high streets so important, because they have adapted to deal with real people. The list of them is still significant; Kindways, Rest and Be Thankful, Clares, Lyons, Llandudno Music, Ryder's, Gimberts and the Kitchen Range, to name but eight. However, with six shops closing for every new one opening, if we want these places to be around in five years time, we need to use them. And who knows? You might actually enjoy the experience a lot more than sitting in front of the screen and keyboard.

The bare truth

This year's prize for the most bizarre quote goes to the Countryside Commission for Wales’ Wil Sanderson, who said their patrols had come across a number of nudists this year – despite the poor weather.

He said: “We’re trying to stop the nudists. We’ve written to the British Naturist Society to tell them that Llanddwyn isn’t a naturist beach and to the police. It isn’t an offence to be nude, it’s only an offence when somebody is offended.”

The Naturist argument rears its - er - head every summer and certainly deserves the ridicule it receives. Staunch defender of the "Right To Be Offended By The Utterly Inoffensive" society, councillor Enid Mummery said, “We don’t want nudists here. It’s not fair for families with young children."

We're sorry, young children? And why, exactly, is it not fair? Does she assume that the young will be permanently traumatised by the sight of a few, aged, pot-bellied gentlemen, strolling innocently between the dunes, or is she afraid that rampant lust will overtake her as she glimpses the svelte bodies of physically impressive under-25s?

It's not young children who will be affected. It's the repressed and often mentally damaged individuals, whose upbringing has imbued them with a fear and terror of the natural and normal ,and who feel they have a duty to pass on their own, phobia-ridden predilections and hang-ups to their children and - worse - inflict their self-righteousness on others.

We say it's time to make a clean breast of it, get to the bottom of the case and start a new religion: first church of the terminally naked. Then we'll see a few hang-ups - or should that be 'hangs-up'?

Pardon?

23 cafes, restaurants and kitchens in Conwy have been allowed to stay open despite being branded with the lowest possible scores for safety and food hygiene.

Environmental health inspectors have raised serious concerns about low standards at 30 eateries in Wrexham, 23 in Conwy, 28 in Flintshire, 35 in Gwynedd, and 14 in Denbighshire. Yet all were told they could keep serving customers – and given between six-months and a year to clean up, before their next inspection.

Last night calls were made for a re-vamp of the system, which means officials can only shut a restaurant or take-away immediately if there is a “imminent risk to public health”.

Of course, it's judging what constitutes an "imminent risk to public health” that's the tricky one. Sweaty, raw beef burgers, dripping their little passports of death onto the fresh and innocent-looking lettuce leaves stored immediately below are a pretty obvious indicator that the owner needs to take a long holiday. But few indicators are as obvious as a series of cat pelts strung up outside the back door over a vat of something decidedly dubious, simmering happily away in the summer's heat, or festering gobbets of something slimy, lurking hopefully in the 'fridge. It would be nice if they were.

But inspectors are required to judge each place on its merits and - irritatingly for the 'Handbook on nasty 'orrible eating places' - no two venues are identical. So what they do is look at practice - hand washing, storage, organisation, surfaces - and make their assessment based on two factors: is the place designed so it can be cleaned easily and, secondly, is it and the staff being cleaned properly?

Incredible as it may seem (or not, if you've worked in a kitchen) the weakest link is always the staff. Fingers that seem bent on polar-type explorations of the server's nasal passages one minute are bringing you that fresh scone and cream the next, whilst the sound of someone suffering a paroxysmal sneezing fit in the kitchen may well be followed by the exit of a waiter bearing a cup of coffee towards you, which abruptly assumes the visage of a harbinger of death, or a 'get dead soon' card from the local Visigoth society.

All of which makes rational assessment of eating places something of a lottery. However, it does seem that a couple of things could do with changing. First - there should be publicity from the council - all councils - giving the results of inspections. That way, you at least have a fighting chance of seeing if the little floating things in your piña colada are alive and out to get you, or merely an exotic touch, added by an imaginative barman. Secondly, there should be far more detailed inspections for any facilities that use raw meat and eggs. This already happens to some extent, but it needs to be tighter. Raw meat and eggs should be viewed in the same light as drunks after midnight; almost always okay if handled properly, but the consequences of not doing so can have serious repercussions.

After all, surely we deserve the chance to eat ourselves to death, instead of being bushwhacked en route?

Who's that, then?

WELSH police forces have uploaded over 250,000 profiles to the DNA database since 2000. DNA is a sensitive subject; on one hand, there's those who argue 'if you've nothing to hide, why worry?', whilst on the other there are those who say 'Do we really trust the government and the Police to safeguard such confidential information?". The government, and departments thereof, have a truly abysmal record for keeping confidential information safe. In fact, they lose it more often than teenage girls their virginity, yet we're asked to trust them with our DNA.

We all want a more secure society, yet can having the very basis of our being in the hands of the local plods assist the law-enforcement agencies really keep us more safe? Perhaps what we need is more high-level prosecutions of those who lose our data, for whatever reason. Perhaps then, we might feel a little more confident in those we're supposed to trust...

Watt next?

The man's a powerhouse! Tudor Roberts, from Blaenau Ffestiniog, placed turbines in the River Bowydd in 1975 and has used them to generate electricity for his property ever since. The 2.5 kilowatts produced by the river also lights up five street lamps for neighbouring properties.

However, Environment Agency officials got wind of Mr Roberts’ scheme three weeks ago and told him he would have to take the turbines down.

Mr Roberts made the decision to generate power from the river after he and son David built their bungalow in the early 1970s, and he and his wife, who have been married since 1946, lived in a neighbouring house with a disabled daughter whose disability meant they couldn’t carry her up and down the stairs and needed to move to a ground-level property.

Following support from the council and the Plaid MP, Elfyn Llwyd, however, the agency has decided that he's not actually doing the river any harm and can keep his generating system.

It's interesting, for many reasons. We're all being told that electricity generation is the big bad wolf of the environment, yet making it possible for anyone to generate their own juice is met with every possible hurdle and obstacle. The Consumers' Association have for two years been conducting a test to see how easy it is to do, using off–the–shelf windmills, but are finding thzt planning permisison is as hard to get as it always was, despite the Government's assertions that they're making ti easy for folk to do.

We haven't all got a handy river, of course, but Wales does have rather a lot of streams knocking about and it seems churlish to ignore the benefits they can provide. Wind power's a little too unreliable, but tidal power is predictably effective, although harnessing it isn't quite so easy. Perhaps the ultimate solution, however, is to create giant, people–sized hamster wheels, where we could install all those anti–social individuals that delight in collecting ASBOs like smarties; then we could truly claim to have 'people–power' lighting the towns.

Awa' wi ye..

Haggis is English. Haggis, a mixture of sheep innards — heart, liver and lungs — mixed with oatmeal, fat and spices, and cooked, ideally, in a sheep's stomach, is so much a part of Scottish tradition that the poet Robert Burns wrote an address to Haggis in 1786 but food historian Catherine Brown who is herself a Scot, says she has found a reference to haggis in an English cooking guide from 1615, predating any Scottish reference by more than a century.

Suddenly, the world makes a little less sense. As I sit here, desperately wondering why I can't get my browser to recognise an uploaded php file, I realise it's because something has gone irrevocably wrong with the universe. A seismic shift in the underlying fabric of the cosmos–possibly akin to the gravitational constant, or the speed of light–has obviously occurred, and that change is altering everything we've taken for granted since we were born.

It's now clear why the browser keeps telling me there's a permission error–although what it needs my permission for isn't too clear–and why a simple file upload should consume the better part of a day as prodigious efforts are expended to get the thing to behave. It's not a permission error at all; it's to do with a fundamental change in the very laws of the universe.

Who else apart from the Scots would create Haggis? It's so obviously Scottish that any reports, findings, discoveries and suggestions to the contrary are quite clearly simply cunning attempts by the English Tourist Board to carve out a slice of the Highland holiday market. Mark my words, they'll be moving Ben Nevis next week, you see if they don't. And they won't stop there; watch out for the new Eisteddfod competition–caber tossing–and the Ascot bagpipe ceremony, followed quickly by the Edinburgh Tattoo being held at Earl's Court. Windermere had better watch out, before monster spotting takes off in grand style and it's even money that they'll find a way to tow the Isle of Skye down to the South Coast.

And when they've finished all that, they'll re–brand porridge as 'oaty-bix', abolish the kilt and give Norway the Hebrides.

And I still can't see that damned php file in my browser.

Zimmers at dawn

There's always been a joke that Llandudno and Colwyn Bay are becoming retirement towns. By the early '90s, the last of the superb cinemas in Colwyn Bay was demolished to build - retirement homes. A recent report, however, warns that wealthier pensioners are moving to the UK’s most sought-after mainland locations rather than towns on the North Wales coast.

According to the report, Rhos-on-Sea and Rhyl are losing out as OAPs move to quiet market towns and cultural destinations, including the Cotswolds and Kent. Mind you, having read about the increase in insectile nasties darn sarth over the next ten years as a result of the temperature increase, I think I'll give those locations a miss. Professor Richard Webber, who conducted the research, said OAPs want to spend more of their retirement in the country, in areas of attractive scenery, rather than dilapidated seaside resorts. and added “Seaside towns are different in terms of who they attract. Llandudno, and to a lesser extent Colwyn Bay, are still attracting quite wealthy people whereas Prestatyn and Rhyl have had difficulty recently.

In the 1950s, vast numbers flocked here during the last week in July and the first in August - the so-called 'factory fortnight' - from Liverpool, Manchester and the Midlands, staying for the statutory two weeks, booking into self-catering flatlets with delight and rarely able to afford the enormous prices charged by hotels - sometimes as much as 5/- per week (if you're under forty, you'll need to look that up in Wiki:-)

We were one of those families. Hard-earned pennies would be carefully saved for a week or two of out-right indulgence in the pleasure palaces of Rhos or those sumptuous, wild, care-free nights at the Winter Gardens. Well, actually, we never went there. Our pleasures were Fortes in Rhos (the history of that place is astonishing, BTW), the National Milk Bar in Mostyn St and long walks up and down and around the Ormes every day. To a child from the smoke-filled, sooty skies of Liverpool, where the only birds we ever saw were Blackbirds, which didn't actually sing but merely hung from the clothes line and coughed, the greenery and fresh air of Llandudno were almost unbelievable. We fell in love with the place and moved here twenty five years ago in our 30s. We noticed then that things were changing. Taking our own two young children down to the prom in Colwyn Bay, to show them the little train that was such an attraction, we found it about to be closed up. Other things we loved - such as the little fairground behind the railway embankment was turning into a shopping mall and the three cinemas we'd known and loved had shrunk to a single, upper floor semi-bingo palace, in the throes of transformation into yet more retirement flats

It seemed to us, then, that Colwyn Bay had been written off as a holiday destination and was, instead, becoming a retirement home. There was a steady influx of younger newcomers, but these were frequently the long-term unemployed, who reasoned that they might as well be unemployed at the seaside than back home in Liverpool. The downside was that these families weren't bringing in money to the local economy, and the added burden on social services and the NHS was adding to the issues.

Today, Llandudno's population is now seriously ageing. A far higher percentage of the town is over 70 than in any city, and that's a statistic that's only going to get worse. The baby boomers of the late forties are now retiring, or developing long term illnesses, but the real issue is the effect of the older outlook on the town. We need a mix - children, teenagers, families and older folk - to make the towns viable for the future. And here's an even more interesting statistic: 73% of the town's young workforce in the hotels is Polish.

We've said it before, but Colwyn Bay has staggering, under realised potential. Perhaps some ex-pat millionaire reader of this blog will decided to come and take a look at the place, which is crying out for investment. This is the time to invest, as well. If Liverpool can be regenerated from the mess it was in in the 60s and 70s, Colwyn Bay must be a much easier proposition. But we don't need more retirement housing; that's actually the last thing we need. We need decent affordable housing and significant investment in the tourist amenities and this is the time to do it. The recession will end, and when it does, those who have the vision, courage and willpower to invest will make a fortune.

please park prettily

The daily post reports that the Victoria Centre in Llandudno has been given a Park Mark award, which is given by the Association of Chief Police Officers and managed by the British Parking Association, with support from the Home Office, and has been awarded because the car par has been crime free for 17 years.

“We’re really pleased because the award acknowledges our professional approach to managing our car park and our impressive record over the past several years,” said the Victoria Centre’s manager Sue Nash. The centre’s car park had to go through a rigorous risk assessment and inspection to attain accreditation to the Park Mark standard.This included the submission of its policies and procedures to deter and prevent criminal activity and anti-social behaviour.A state-of-the art entry system, comprehensive CCTV network and regular security patrols have also helped the centre retain its perfect record.

Well done to the Vic, and let's hope that someone, somewhere decides to build another half dozen of the things.

Ah, weekends....

Well, the arrival of the weekend reminds us that the weather is no respecter of the weather forecast. Or national boundaries, indeed. Our youngest son has just telephoned us to let us know he's en route to Paris, having spent the past month with three friends touring Europe. Well, that's the sort of thing you will probably only ever do when you're a student, but he's survived the bull run in Spain, the heat wave in the South of France, the German Police doing midnight passport checks, the young man's delights of Amsterdam, the excesses of Prague and a broken toe, somewhere between the Czech republic and the linguistically challenged Hungary. Hungary, he tells us, is the only place in Europe where the denizens of that ancient country speak fewer languages than the British. Which set us thinking.

In the 1980s, France decided that the English language - or at least that version of it spoken by the Americans - was far too widespread in their country, and set about eliminating all Anglicised words from the French dictionary, or Dictionnaire français, as they say in Gaul. First word for the chop was 'weekend', followed quickly by 'burger', 'sandwich' and 'footie'. Now, the French have always enjoyed a hate-hate relationship with us; the 100 years war didn't really resolve much, and they've always regarded their language as something sacrosanct. In Canada, they managed to make French the official (and only) language in Quebec, an action followed swiftly by the mass migration of most of their most skilled workers to other provinces, but the gradual erosion of their position as the number 1 international language since the 1960s has cut deep - wounded them to le core, as it were. The advent of Satellite Television, showing films in English with national subtitles, however, has meant that vast tracts of European youth has adopted English as their second language. Some, in fact, are so astonishingly good at it it's hard to know where they were born, The Dutch, for instance, routinely speak about five or six languages and do so with impressive skill, so much that it's earned them the epithet 'Linguists of Europe'.

Now this preciousness about their language isn't confined to France, of course, but they're the most obvious about it. What the French (and every other culture that protests they're losing their language) singularly overlook is that language is dynamic. At school in the '60s we were told that French was the international language. Now there's no doubt whatsoever that English has become the international language but en route to that heady aspiration it has evolved. It's no longer the language that existed 50 years ago and in that evolution it has integrated - like the Ancient Romans as they conquered Europe - all the other languages into its vocabulary.

So to the French who are terrified that their Language will be lost we would say this: au contraire, do not be laissez-faire about your language which is, after all, merely a collage of thoughts over the years. It is a propos, and has been for years, to use many Gallic extrapolations in our linguistic accoutrements, and the truly adroit know this, remain au courant with the changes and discard verbal bric-a-brac, without being blasé. And now, we're off to the café...

What to do?

The Daily Post today tells us that a man who raped and murdered an 86-year-old woman less than 24 hours after being released from prison must serve at least 20 years. Elfyn Bryn Jones, now 30, of Trefnant, Denbighshire – who savagely murdered Eila Williams in 2001 – argued his remorse, reformed ways and good behaviour in jail should mean an earlier release date.

However, Mr Justice Owen yesterday told him the sheer horror of the attack on the vulnerable pensioner, who was a complete stranger to him, meant that 20 years was fair. In the early hours of April 7, 2001, Jones pushed his way into the frail pensioner’s home in Clwydian Park Crescent, Trefnant, before forcing her into her bedroom and raping her. After inflicting a sickening array of injuries on his victim, he set fire to the house and carried her outside, leaving her naked by the side of the road where she was found two hours later.

This comes just as the Justice ministry reveals that Criminals on probation committed more than 1,000 serious crimes over the last two years, including nearly one murder a week in England and Wales. And we continue to hear of adults who treat babies and toddlers worse than rabid dogs. Meanwhile, an ever-increasing number of 'conditions' appear to afflict school pupils, with what was once considered simply 'bad behaviour' now being re-named as 'Attention deficit disorder'.

There are undoubtedly those in society who do suffer from severely disabling and extremely dangerous mental conditions and, having once visited the notorious Park Lane hospital in Merseyside, we have met some of those people close-up. But you can't tell a murderer just from looking at them. In fact, they could be anyone - from the chap at the pub to the lady in the dry cleaners.

The big question - as the UK now imprisons a bigger percentage of its population than any other European country - is what we do about a worrying situation. It seems, from what's above, that prison simply doesn't work. Many, in fact, would argue prison simply serves as a sort of training ground for criminals, to help them learn the ways of the underworld and become better at what they do. But the purpose of prison is theoretically twofold: punishment and rehabilitation. Depriving them of their liberty is the punishment, but what of the second half? Dostoyevsky's literary masterpiece on this very subject cleverly juxtaposed criminality with moral perceptions, but it's not the sort of thing you read on the beach. However, in this country, we need to protect our people from the criminal, the criminally insane and the opportunist, but is prison the answer?

Building more prisons may seem like the solution but perhaps we need more investment in the rehabilitation aspect of criminality. Then, perhaps, we could justly claim to be a fair and compassionate society.