What's your fancy?

In 2010, no less an institution than the Vatican revealed the identity of its top ten favourite music albums. Eye-brows were raised on two fronts. In the first place, it was unusual for this secretive body to reveal anything let alone its musical preferences. The second surprise was the names of the albums. To be fair, as far as top tens go, I would have gladly put my name to it. Their list displayed huge knowledge and taste. The biggest surprise for me was the album they placed in second place. Released in 1971 "If only I could remember my name" was the first solo outing of one of the most celebrated and charismatic musicians of the last 50 years. Following his initial success with the Byrds and Crosby, Stills and Nash, David Crosby assembled as stellar a cast of musicians as you could hope for to put together his first solo album. Such outings for Crosby are rare indeed. His next such offering came in 1989 and his third is due for release in September. Not exactly prolific as a solo artist but then he hasn't needed to be. Even at the age of 72, he is still in demand as one of the foremost harmony singers in the music world. His first album featured a galaxy of musical talent. Paul Kantner and Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane joined up along with then lovers Graham Nash and Joni Mitchell. Jerry Garcia and Jack Casady also came along for a bit of fun. It goes to show that the Vatican probably has a lot more in common with us than we normally imagine.

Do not go gentle in to that good night..

Have you ever wondered who you are? For instance, is your national identity of great importance to you? For many people their nationality is incredibly important. There is a t-shirt which is quite popular in the Principality which announces “Every day I wake up in the morning and thank God I’m Welsh”. It is not a sentiment I share if I’m honest despite the fact that I was indeed born in Denbigh. Famously, Ronald Reagan once visited an Old Folks’ Home in Texas and approached a quiet old lady sitting in the corner. “Do you know who I am?”, he asked her. “No, but if you go to reception they’ll tell you”, came the immortal reply. My nationality is not really that important to me and, if pressed when filling out personal details, I invariably plump for British although I’m not altogether sure quite what that means either. Occasionally though, my inner Welshness is provoked. It happened today. I was saddened beyond words to learn of the passing of Cliff Morgan. I don’t intend to try and add to the superlatives which have already been used to describe him. He belonged to a dying breed born with nothing except an appreciation of life and an infectious joy which was imparted on to all around them. To be born in 1930 in the Rhondda to a coal miner would not automatically speak of great life opportunity. They may have lacked the wealth which we today take for granted at every given turn, but they had a real sense of community which is now so sadly lacking. They were grateful for the important things in life – the simple things. In those days, people played sport to escape the stark reality of their harsh existence. Sport was the common denominator where entire communities converged to immerse themselves in the absolute joy of taking part. Put simply, sport in those days was where the whole town came together as one. Professionals were a million years in the future. This was the Golden Age of the amateur where the top sports stars of the day played the game for the sheer love and might have earned a fraction more than the men watching them in the terraces. Aside from the fact Cliff was one of the very finest players to don the famous no. 10 jersey, he was far more than that. People of my generation and older will remember with enormous fondness his Saturday morning sports programme on radio 4. He had a gift which I don’t see any more. He had that softly spoken delivery which just drew you in. He used to say that when he was delivering a radio programme, he was delivering it to one person – you. He certainly made it seem like that. A very rare gift. He also exuded warmth and came over as your best friend who you’d only just met ten minutes earlier. He was not boastful or judgemental. There was nothing nasty or crude about him. As a commentator, he was an absolute joy. His famous delivery of “that try” when Gareth Edwards finished off the move by the Barbarians was notable for the fact that Cliff was clearly enjoying it more than any of the listeners or spectators. He had the sort of dignity to which I aspire. There are certain Welsh people whose manner in life set them apart from those around them. Alongside Cliff were the likes of Harry Secombe and Wynford Vaughan Thomas. Cliff like many at the time was against the cancellation of rugby and cricket tours to South Africa during the era of apartheid. It was not that he agreed with apartheid. He just knew the true value of sport as a means to breaking down the barriers of society. Sport to people like Cliff was vitally important as a bond between men whatever their creed and colour. A few beers and a sing song after the match would put the world to rights and the world would be a better place. As our politicians debate whether they ought to be immersing themselves in the Syrian conflict, it looks as though common sense will prevail and lessons will be learned. We are not the British Empire and haven’t been for an awfully long time. As they debate amongst themselves as to whether there is a legal justification for going to war, I can tell them the answer. If we got involved every time a foreign dictator exacted abuse upon his own people, the whole country would be in the army. There just comes a time when we have to stand down and let the UN do the job for which they were originally formed. The Falkland War was fought over Sovereignty. A war with Syria would be taking the side of one group over another in a country over which we have no influence. Even if chemical weapons have been used, we now have war crimes tribunals in which the perpetrators are ultimately brought to task and held to account. It is sometimes hard to stand by and witness events such as these but it is not our business to take it upon ourselves to be the world policeman. If any of our politicians had just a slither of the dignity of Cliff Morgan, there would be no need for a debate. In defence of the Coalition though, I must just say this. When Blair got us in to Iraq in 2003, history now shows that he had absolutely no evidence to do so. He hood-winked the people and they are now understandably suspicious of all government. At least Cameron has had the decency to tell it like it is and admit that there is no conclusive evidence as to who used the chemical weapons. As long as that is the case, there can be no argument for war. This at least is a small step back on the road to democracy where truth is used to consult the MPs who are elected to represent the people. In addition, this marks a new beginning in which we no longer ask “how high”? when Uncle Sam says “Jump”! We do have the capacity to think for ourselves and it is high time we showed both America and the rest of the world.

Road closed by lager?

Yesterday a road was closed near Newport in South Wales due to a lorry spilling its contents. Transporting vital supplies of lager to the South Wales valleys, the spill was sufficient in volume to necessitate closure of the road for 30 minutes. This is a story and a half. Picture if you will the fire crew who were charged with unenviable job of hosing it all away. We can but guess at the trauma they experienced. Grown men were probably fighting back the tears as the love of their life was ushered down the drain. As the yellow fluid soaked gradually in to the surrounding land, wild scenes of inebriation would have been seen among the sub-terranean wild life. I wonder if any booze obsessed bystanders had the presence of mind to try and save any of the amber nectar. If so, to what extent might they have exposed themselves to ridicule in trying to salvage any. Would the lack of gas deterred them? Hell hath no fury like a man denied his ale. Would they have succumbed to the indignity of hanging off the outlet valve in the vain hope of getting one last precious mouthful? Would they have been frantically banging on the doors of local residents demanding to just borrow a glass for a few minutes? Counsellors will have been flown in to try and help people come to terms with this senseless event. Inquiries will be in full swing at several local pubs as answers are sought to explain how their communities will begin the long process of coming to terms with such a cruel blow. As I write, I shouldn't wonder that two lorries have already been despatched to make up for this mayhem. What a kerfuffle! The prospect of seasoned lager drinkers with the bellies to prove it having to drink bitter is too appalling for words. For those that just can't bring themselves to drink bitter they are faced with the twin horrors of either drinking lager poured from a bottle or, worse still, staying at home and drinking tea with the wife. This will then impact on her. It will take a lot more than mere biscuits to console him and woe betide him if he crunches them too loudly at the critical point just before the adverts come on. This could destroy previously happy families. All those years of watching Coronation Street in peace will be shattered by the intrusion of a husband who, by rights, ought to be in the pub. So far the full details haven't been released, but the best we can hope for is that the whole load was a rogue batch of alcohol free destined for abroad. That at least would soften the blow. I tell you what though, the driver might as well change his name by deed poll now and emigrate while it is still safe to do so. He's going to need round the clock (24/7) protection from the unvented anger of all those big bellied lager drinkers whose lives he has so selfishly ruined. I can only hope it was an agency driver whose identity isn't common knowledge...

The true cost of empowerment

The quality of food served by our hospitals has come under the microscope this week. In our modern world where technology rules the day, patients have become empowered by their all conquering mobile phones. Cases have come to light in which patients in hospital beds have taken to ringing the ward desk on their ward if they don’t receive a response when ringing their emergency bell. Patients have also started to take photographs of their food to share with others. Mostly this is done to highlight perceived inadequacies. Occasionally this is done to highlight the merit of their meal. Either way, the patient has seldom had more power than he has today. Although this might be no bad thing, it may also bring as many problems as it solves. At Medical School, doctors are trained in patient centred care. Here, the ideal is to take decisions in the best interests of the patient rather than in the best interests of the doctor. The Francis Report in the aftermath of the inquiry in to Stafford Hospital only served to highlight what many people had already seen at hospitals the length and breadth of the country. In some ways, Stafford was needed because it was potentially the catalyst to change. Change, of course, won’t happen overnight because it never does. What the report does bring though is an aspiration for patient care. Aspiration is the first step. Just as members of the medical profession can rightly expect to be placed under the microscope with regard to their own behaviour and performance by their mobile phone wielding patients, the patients also have their own part to play. A recent case in North Wales highlighted the sad story of a lady who was sent to her local Cottage Hospital where she witnessed sub standard levels of personal hygiene by the staff and patients around her. As per the recommendations of the Francis Report, she voiced her concerns to the Ward Sister but nothing was done. The point I make here is that care actually begins with the most basic things such as hand washing. The most revealing aspect of this story is that this lady complained but was not listened to. It is all very well encouraging a new culture in which people are encouraged to complain but such a culture will never take off if people can see that it gets them nowhere. The lady in this case subsequently died from a hospital acquired infection which the coroner deemed accidental. Up the road at Glan Clwyd Hospital, they have divulged that they oversaw 96 cases of Clostridium difficile between January and May of this year. Could do better. But back to the food. When people find themselves out of work and seek unemployment benefit, they are often surprised to see how little they are expected to live on for a week. When the NHS claims to be “free at the point of access to every man, woman and child”, free does not imply that the food can do justice to a Michelin star. Even a Michelin starred restaurant would struggle to maintain high quality food provision with a restricted budget to feed many hundreds of patients. I do not excuse poor quality food but rather seek to put in to context the challenges facing the caterers at our main hospitals. It is true that no national guideline currently exists for the quality of food served up in the NHS. In an era where a national guideline seems in place for just about everything else, this is at best surprising. In my previous role in the wholesale food industry, I worked for the company which supplies food to the NHS. Lots of it was frozen and in multi portion ready meals. Question. Why would you want to buy in frozen ready meals when you have fully stocked and staffed catering kitchens capable of making such meals fresh in house? Answer: Money. Put simply, the cost of employing the staff to prepare and cook the food costs far more than just buying it in cheap from a company which is mass producing it. It is simply an economy of scales. It is a sad reality of life in the NHS that such a low value is attached to the nutrition of the patients who we seek to make better. Granted, the NHS is under increasing strain financially as the demand upon it increases and the money made available barely keeps up with inflation. That said, it seems counter intuitive to compromise on one of the aspects of patient care which best contributes to their recovery. Aside from the extra employment it would bring, increasing the catering operations at our hospitals could have a dramatic impact on patient outcomes. Dare I say, there might even be instances of local pride in which hospitals actually vie with each other for greater standards of culinary excellence. Why not? I’m told there is a TV programme which follows the progress of Junior Doctors as they embark on the first steps in their medical careers. With the photographic and video capability of mobile phones, every patient is now a potential film director on hand to capture the latest scandal for the public to feast on. But what about these mobile phones? Where is the catch? The catch is that they all represent one of the most obvious infection risks in the entire hospital. When a patient is admitted now they are swabbed for MRSA as standard. Why are their phones not swabbed likewise? Perhaps this would constitute an assault on patient rights. Seriously though, it makes sense to me to start looking more closely at everything which comes through the door if we are to take hospital infections more seriously. If the NHS is to remain free at the point of access, much needs to be done. If the NHS budget was allocated more in line with Maslow’s hierarchy, the end results would arguably be more fruitful!

Cricket relieving itself

As news begins to slowly trickle out about the latest goings on within the English cricket team, I feel the need for some relief. As long ago as the late 19th century, the great Yorkshire left arm spin bowler Bobby Peel was summarily dismissed from the county by the then autocratic Chairman Lord Hawke. In those rather more dignified times, the reason given was "relieving himself in a socially unacceptable manner". Peel had indeed answered the call of nature on the hallowed turf at Headingley while under the influence of a skin full of beer. No respecter of authority he. Only a couple of weeks ago, the left arm spin bowler, Monte Panesar effectively ruled himself out of selection for the final Ashes Test match at the Oval. Allegedly, he was observed to be urinating over some night club bouncers. It is difficult to be certain here but I believe he was ruled out of contention for the urination rather than the being drunk outside a nightclub. It is interesting to note that both cricketers alluded to thus fat have both been slow left arm spinners - is there an association I wonder? The England cricket team having retained the Ashes were clearly either so surprised or so excited that they took it upon themselves to emulate the actions of Peel over a century ago. It seems as though Panesar's error lay in urinating before the match rather than after it. Because it seems as though several players were employed on this occasion, it seems unlikely that all will be dropped. In these permissive times they will probably be implored to try and use a toilet in future provided it's not too much trouble. Peel was an amateur inn the old fashioned tradition. Cricket was his livelihood so his actions cost him dear. The current England players are all professionals playing in the much hyped and over salaried professional era. "At no time did we ever intend to cause offence to people invlolved in the game we love" proclaimed the Press statement. Quite. It makes me wonder what they might have resorted to if they had intended to cause offence. The mind boggles. The words of their statement sound somewhat hollow to put it mildly. Meanwhile back in the Australian camp, no less a good sport than Shane Warne proclaims that their actions were "crass" and "arrogant". There can be few people better qualified to pass judgement on these two attributes. Had he been able to resist the temptation to get another headline, the Australians would have been going in to a home Ashes series with their form in the ascendency against an England team who have underperformed both during and outside the hours of play. Putting the remarks of Warne to one side though, the Australians started the series in the worst possible way with the indiscretions of David Warner. They have since redeemed themselves well and have been extremely unlucky to go down 3-0 in a series which was much closer than thet. In truth, Warner should not, as a purported professional player, have been in that bar in that state at that late hour - and neither should Joe Root or Stuart Broad. The books will show that Root had one decent innings in five test matches. This is hardly the sort of form which merits late night drinking sessions. As captain of the T20 England team, Broad displayed his immaturity for such a role. Monte Panesar must be rueing the injustice of it all as his international future lies in tatters while his England colleagues appear to be above sanction. This was not a classic Ashes series by a long chalk. It began with much talk of the "worst Australian team to come to England". If they were, they found themselves in good company because Bell aside, not one of the England top six averaged over 50. There was much to lament from both the England batsmen and bowlers. It was a great irony that in the last match, England picked a spin bowler who they couldn't bowl because he just wasn't good enough. Oh for Panesar..I would say that this was possibly the weakest Australian side to come here since the 1985 team captained by the plucky Alan Border. On that occasion, Gower, Gatting and Robinson all scored well for England and the bowling was dominated in the end by the masterclass of swing bowling by the Kent all-rounder Richard Ellison. Having said that, Gower and co made their runs against Jeff Thomson ten years after his pomp and Geoff Lawson who had to bowl more as a stock bowler than as a strike bowler due to the lack of options elsewhere. My advice to both England and Australian teams after being subjected to this sub standard display would be to get out of the bar and in to the nets. Every action of every England player will be scrutinised now from the moment they land in Australia to the moment they leave and they can have nobody to blame but themselves. They are usually the first to bemoan a lack of quality time to themselves while on tour. I suspect they can now kiss goodbye to that because there are few institutions more unforgiving than the Australian Press..

2000 Light Years from Home

I am sitting in Knighton approximately 80 miles from home. The fastest way to get here is by car (unless you have a fast motorbike and have a primal need to meet your maker). In 2013, this can’t be done in less than two hours. Although it would have taken marginally longer by horse and cart many years ago, our ancestors were arguably far more advanced.

Wales has boasted a National Assembly for a number of years now on the back of a majority thinner than an After Eight mint. That it pertains to be an independent nation is laughable. If you live in Powys where I sit today, you are heavily outnumbered by sheep because there are only about 120,000 people in the entire county. The reason that Wales is so badly joined up is that, in effect, it only has two roads. In the South of the country, the M4 connects the three biggest cities (Newport, Cardiff and Swansea). In the North, the coast is served by the A55 dual carriageway. The two lanes of the latter have to support an army of caravans, cars and motorhomes making their way from the English cities of Liverpool and Manchester to the sprinkling of resorts which pepper the North Wales coast from Prestatyn in the East to Anglesey in the West.

The problem begins in earnest when you have a need to travel from the North to the South. Here the true measure of Welsh independence is to be found. The neglect of the middle bit (Mid Wales) has gone on for years. This is well illustrated by the fact that people needing a hospital in the North have three to choose from along the course of the A55. Those in the South have options in all the three main cities not to mention those in Merthyr Tydfil and other places. People living in the middle bit have to go to England for a hospital (Shrewsbury or Hereford). 

It is therefore baffling to see that while £10 million is being spent on improving the railway line between Wrexham and Shrewsbury, not a penny is being considered to link up the North with the South by road or even, heaven forbid, to begin a fund to build a District General Hospital for Mid Wales. With each and every decision they make, the Welsh Assembly are actually dividing Wales more and more in to two poles with the bit in the middle becoming progressively more reliant upon England.

In a way, it is ironic that a place like Knighton in Mid Wales was the scene of one of the most famous victories of the Welshmen seen by many to be the inspiration for the cause of Welsh Nationalism. Owain Glyndwr, the last Prince of Wales, hailed from the heartlands of Mid Wales and achieved countless victories over the English with very limited resources. If he were alive today, he would be at best confused by the machinations of the current Assembly. Perhaps Wales and England were both better off when their community spirit was so great they didn’t warrant great road connections between them.

In 2010, I was despatched to Ludlow for 4 weeks for a work placement in General Practice. I have clearly been rewarded for my exemplary commitment by now being flown in to Knighton. I’m just glad my medical school don’t have any affiliations to the Outer Hebrides otherwise I’d be in real trouble!

In Other News..

The town of Wrexham is today reported to be consulting experts as to the value of trees in the town regarding their "feel good factor". Please spare me this relentless waste of public money. On the same day as revelations emerge that an Assembly Member for North Wales expressed surprise at the £50 million spent last year to hire locum doctors, it seems as though waste is alive and kicking.

What is the inherent value of trees? Discuss. It might have been a good ruse as a school essay but it is beyond words to think that public servants are seeking advice on the matter. For a full, robust answer to their troublesome question, why don't they chop them all down and see if they can notice any difference? In fact, when they have finally cracked the vexed conundrum of trees, why stop there? Why don't they explore the feel good factor of daffodils when they come in to flower in spring time. This latest piece of local government nonsense has reduced their credibilty to new depths of stupidity. Let me put it another way. In simple basic terms, we need trees more than they need us if you want to just consider the vital equilibrium which exists between our need for oxygen and their need for carbon dioxide. Is it uplifting to see something other than a concrete building or a car or a bus? If they really need to consult someone for the answer to that question, I can only suggest that they get out more often..

Imagine if you will the kerfuffle which might ensue if the Chief Executive was taking a walk in the park and a conker or an acorn fell down on his head. How would he even begin to make sense of such an intrusion in to his erstwhile peaceful existence. Doubtless, a new tree management squad would have to be set up whereby warning notices were placed on all trees yielding seeds or nuts with a size capable of inducing thought should they ever happen upon the head beneath them. Like Herod in the New Testament, he might order a cull of all trees with a height of more than two foot for fear that they might become overly traumatic for people to look at. I can barely sit still for the anticipation of the results of this consultation process and would expect a document of at least 500 pages to emerge. Ironically, a decent wedge of tree would be consumed with the paper needed to conduct such a moronic exercise but it would all be worth it for closure. Yes indeed, the trees in Wrexham must be sweating at this very moment knowing that the chain saw is hovering nearby. Heaven help us if we really have to be subjected to local government of such a pointless nature!

Days of Summer

To end this memorable summer, we are camped in tents on the headland above Abersoch on the tip of the Lleyn peninsula. Our first night was not without incident. Strong wind is to be expected at such a location and rain likewise.
The weather last night was not for the faint hearted. It was little short of a miracle that our tents were both standing and dry! The weather is predicted to calm down today so our summer will reach its end with two days on the windswept beach before we are once more recalled to the humdrum of everyday life.
There is always a sense of camaraderie when spending time with family. The banter and fun has already started so we shall all be bright eyed and bushy tailed come Tuesday to ease back in to a very civilised four day week. May the next two days linger long in the memory..

Land ahoy!

I have today registered to embark on the final year of a degree course in Medicine. With the degree I studied before this one in which I lost a year due to my health, it will be nearly 10 years next July since I set out on this journey. I would not say it is any easier or harder studying  in my fifth decade of life. What I can say is that it has to be approached in a rather different way.

This or any other degree course takes no account of a family at home so I have been incredibly lucky to have such understanding people behind me. All this seems a million miles away from my previous career in Sales Management and a trillion miles away from my less than impressive A level grades of DDE in 1987. I am sure though that both I and the world I inhabit are a lot different to how they were in 1987. Gone is the precociousness of youth. That is a feature of youth which we tend to leave behind as life starts to deal with us. Mine was left behind a long time ago.

In returning to study for the last decade I am sure I have learned far more about myself than the subjects in which I have become immersed. I have also learned the truth of the awful cliche that you're never to old to be learning. In a sense, we never stop learning irrespective of whether we happen to return to main stream education. As the final furlong approaches, I remain confident of the decision I took in 2004 and look forward to being able to finally put something back twelve months hence.

The curious case of 1912

With 30 county championships to their credit, Yorkshire have been the dominant force in English cricket since records began. The home Ashes victory by the England cricket team this summer will be the first time that Yorkshire have won the county championship in an Ashes winning year since 1912. It is amazing that over a century will have passed since this was last achieved.

That said, 1912 was no ordinary year. Aside from the sinking of the Titanic and all the lives lost, it was also the year when Captain Scott led the second party to successfully reach the South Pole. The ANC was founded in South Africa and the first parachute jump was observed from a flying aeroplane. Universal Studios was founded in America and the forerunner to the RAF founded in the UK. After centuries of various dynasties, China became a Republic which was to be the fore runner of the Super Power we see today. A year after his death, the final symphony of Gustav Mahler was given its first performance.

There is of course the small technical detail of Yorkshire winning the Championship this year. As I write, they look nailed on with Durham the only county with a decent chance of stopping them. By coincidence, the England cricket team has, this summer, boasted the Yorkshirmen Joe Root, Tim Bresnan and Jonny Bairstow. It used to be said that when Yorkshire are strong, England are strong. This year seems to be confirming the wisdom of these words. That said the Yorkshire teams of yesteryear stuck staunchly to the ethos of only playing Yorkshire born players. Should the same approach be applied to football clubs, the game as we know it would implode within the hour. Then again, there's still enough money in the pot to prevent this for now..  

Laurel Canyon: Magnet for Creativity

To list the denizens of Laurel Canyon in the 1960s is to list the leading lights of the counter culture and musical excellence from that decade. In hindsight, it is truly amazing to consider that such an abundance of talent was concentrated in to such a small suburban area of Los Angeles. Their impact was immense. The decade began with New York as the epicentre of the American recording industry. By the end of the decade people were struggling to remember where New York was.

To have lived in the Canyon at that time must have been the most extraordinary experience. The list reads as a Who's Who of American music. To name a few, the Doors, the Byrds, Frank Zappa, Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills and Nash were all living there. The song "Our House" was written there by Joni Mitchell and her then beau Graham Nash. Arguably, it was the cover version of a Bob Dylan song by the then largely unknown Byrds which began this legendary movement. The distinctive jangling effect of the Rickenbacker guitar played by Roger McGuinn in the opening chords of "Mr Tambourine Man" changed the direction of Stateside music for the next decade. The arrival of Folk Rock heralded a new approach to song writing in which introspection and emotion came to the fore. An awareness of the self and the world around us suddenly became more important than the traditional three minute format of bubble gum pop which spoke nothing of true feelings.

The Byrds were the torch bearers and they, in turn, passed on the baton to the emerging genius of Buffalo Springfield. Boasting the twin talents of Neil Young and Stephen Stills, the latter began to write songs questioning the influence of the mainstream. Although the legacy of the Doors with their Acid Rock is undeniable, the demise of the Byrds and Springfield left the young troubadours David Crosby and Stephen Stills without bands. That would remain the case until a chance meeting with the disillusioned Graham Nash at a party. Playing a new demo song, Crosby and Stills both sang the lyrics. Overhearing them, Nash asked them to do it again. On the third go, he laid his beautiful harmony over the top and thus was born one of the most influential groups from that era. Although they would subsequently be plagued by their own demons in the form of drug addiction, their first two albums all but defined the music of that time. One was recorded with the mercurial Neil Young and one without. They are both first rate albums. In particular, the song "Helplessly Hoping" from their album "Crosby, Stills and Nash" features harmonies the like of which only Simon and Garfunkel could hope to emulate.

Laurel Canyon provided a very fertile environment within which young song writers could just let their talent flow. History describes them as Hippies but to leave it that would be unfair. Much of their ethos has been borne out in the intervening years as we slowly begin to realise the monstrous effect we are exerting on the world around us. It would be wrong to portray them as being perfect because they certainly were not. As idealists though, they appreciated what was going wrong in the world and what was needed to put it right. At that time, they were at the forefront of the movement which expressed its objection to the war in Vietnam. Nearly fifty years later, it is sad to reflect that the same mistakes have been repeated over and over again. This was the time when a new young generation decided that it wasn't going to just lie down and accept the same rules purely because their forebears had. They grew their hair long and dressed to avoid conforming. Their decision has been much repeated since then but seldom has their desired effect been achieved to such a dramatic extent. This augured in the era of mass demonstrations. These days people like me sit at their computers and bemoan what is lacking in the world. That generation got off their backsides and told the world what they thought. We have seen a similar approach employed through various areas of North Africa in recent months and years. They have even changed governments. By contrast, we in the west seem to have learned all too little from these pioneers of the late 1960s.

Given the mountain faced by many young people today when starting out, I wonder how long it will be before a new wave of counter culture makes itself heard over here? Just maybe, people are starting to become tired of being told what to do and how to do it by a succession of governments totally out of touch with the very people they purport to represent. There always comes a point of discomfort when people won't take any more and it is difficult to ignore the conclusion that such a point is just around the corner. Music is always a good place to begin with protest movements and I don't doubt that today is no different. Roll on the next Laurel Canyon..

40 years of Quadrophenia

The 40th anniversary of the seminal Who album Quadrophenia will take place this October. While other Who albums frequently get all the attention and plaudits, this one is too often overlooked. For one thing, it is the last Who album to feature the height of Keith Moon's drumming ability. For this reason alone, it is well worth a listen. The songs as ever are typical Townshend gems which explore the self like few others.

"The Real Me" is a cracking opener featuring the peerless rhythm section of Entwistle and Moon at their peak. Try listening to it without moving to the infectious beat - impossible. Much covered, this song remains a great favourite among Who afficionados. "5:15" is perhaps the stand out rock song with its imaginative use of the French Horn which John Entwistle played so well. Bell Boy provided the usual vehicle for Keith Moon to lend his comic lyrics to the project and the closing song "Love reign o'er me" was very obviously autobiographical. This was straight from the heart and delivered with raw energy by the dependable Townshend mouthpiece, Roger Daltrey. At this time, Daltrey was exploring a solo career with softer songs such as the beautiful "Giving it all away". Quadrophenia was the last Who album to give his vocal range the challenges which it merited.

As was often the case with Townshend projects, youth was the central theme and the he concentrated on the life of a young mod called Jimmy and his coming to terms with the responsibilities of everyday life. The youth culture of the Mods with whom the Who remain synonymous forms a central theme of the piece. Of course, youth culture has always been with us in its various guises. Townshend was writing about his own experience of being a young Mod in the 1960s.  It is, if anything, ironic to consider the large volume of his work which would fit much easier with the Rockers - the nemesis of the Mods. Songs such as "Won't get fooled again", "Who are you?" and "Heaven and Hell" are natural vehicles for Twonshend's power chord rock which spawned a whole new genre in the '80s and beyond.

Quadrophenia speaks of double schizophrenia or "four personalities". Each personality reflects that of one member of the Who. The tough guy, the helpless dancer represents the frontman Roger Daltrey. The romantic "Is it me for a moment" reflects the softly spoken Ox, John Entwistle and a bloody lunatic "I'll even carry your bags" is about Keith Moon their legendary percussion man. A beggar, a hypocrite, "Love reign o'er me" couldn't be about anybody other than Pete Townshend and the whole project is a masterpiece whose brilliance is now being brought to a whole new audience. Technology in the 1970s rendered its performance nigh on impossible with backing tracks and loops so it was seldom used on tour after the early attempts. I'm glad that Townshend and Daltrey have seen the sense to resurrect it because it deserves a wider audience. The songs sound as fresh and original now as when I first listened to them in 1981. There can be few songwriters alive capable of revealing themselves in such way as this and Townshend will be remembered as one of the very finest writers to emerge from the 1960s, that melting pot of British talent which changed popular music for ever.

15 weeks in Knighton..

On Tuesday, I will begin the latest quest in my odyssey. The carbon footprint of a medical student such as myself is ridiculous. It is also eminently avoidable. Those charged with administration of medical degrees such as mine appear to have limited interest in the logic of our placement allocations.

The 87 miles and 2 hours which separate my hometown of Denbigh from Knighton in Powys render commuting impossible. I am therefore faced with the additional expense of rent and living costs to augment the existing ones of my family in Denbigh. Up to a point, I don't really care where I gain my training experience during this, my final year. I do though crave a modicum of understanding and common sense. Last year I drove an hour to Whitchurch in North Shropshire for my two monthly GP training. That was bearable.

There is one certainty which is now undeniable. Being a mature student with a dependent family is no guarantee to any degree of understanding. Caveat Emptor: Let the buyer beware. When an application is made to study medicine or any other subject by the consumer (student), there is never any indication of the additional costs for which you need to remain mindful. I shudder to think of how much this degree has cost me in terms of diesel and the environment in terms of CO2 emissions. No account is taken of such trifles because they know that you have no choice and they are blissfully unaccountable for such things.

Knighton it is then. It lies within the county boundary of Radnorshire and a thrown stone would land on English soil. Like many border towns it has an intriguing history. It boasts one of only two churches in Wales dedicated to St. Edward. He was the patron Saint of England before George. In 1402, a village called Pilleth just to the South was the site of a Welsh victory led by Owain Glyndwr against the English forces of Sir Edmund Mortimer. This battle is referred to by Shakespeare himself in Henry IV part 1. Unusually for fading Welsh market towns, Knighton still boasts a Railway station and provides an important link between the industries of South Wales and the Midlands. From a Welsh perspective, Knighton is the meeting point of two important walks. Glyndwr's Way and Offa's Dyke both pass through this historical gem.

The demographics of Knighton are also interesting. Although their average ages are low, unemployment is also low at just 2.9%. Is this just a coincidence or is their conceivably a relationship between these two figures? As I write, it has a Liberal MP and a Liberal Assembly Member.  Not many places like this left now. The Scottish Highlands spring to mind. In the 1970s it attracted the likes of Julie Christie and John Mayall as residents. Perhaps it offered the peace and tranquility which their professions found so elusive? The young people of the town gain their qualifications and cross the border in search of opportunity and employment - a familiar picture throughout North and Mid Wales today. It may not have been my preferred choice but I shall certainly embrace my time there - who knows, it might be even nicer than Denbigh. Time will tell..

Helplessly Hoping?

A debate was started today which sought to appraise the speeches of the late Winston Churchill. There is little doubt that his speeches achieved their desired effect. At a time when this country was at its lowest ebb, he succeeded in rallying the people when there was truthfully very little left in the tank.

In the politics of today, I struggle to think of any speaker who motivates me. A kind of bland veil seems to have descended over public life in which the sound bite has to take precedence over substance. It has not always been like this. There was a time when an aspiring politician would first make his name with a speech in the Commons. With political spin and political gamesmanship there is now no need to be good on your feet.

At school, I attended a debating society which has continued to serve me well. Learning the art of speaking to a large group is hugely important. In today's micro-managed world, I would argue that this is now more important than ever. Of course, the prerequisites for any aspiring speakers are a good command of their language and an ability to demand the attention of their audience with the authority and passion of their delivery.

Great speakers from history vary enormously in their delivery. Whatever his faults in ideology, Hitler was an orator of the highest class. Try and listen to any of his rousing speeches at the Nazi rallies and remain unmoved. Even though he speaks in a language which I don't speak, he has my absolute attention. By contrast, Gandhi was just about the exact opposite. Softly spoken, this little man spoke with a measured conviction which just drew you in. I suspect that his belief in what he stood for underpinned his style. Either way, it is worth having a listen to any of his speeches. His training as a barrister served him well because he spoke with great simplicity and knew how to best to spread his message.

Despite his media depiction as a bit of a buffoon, the acting past of Ronald Reagan was his trump card. He had that unique ability to give gravitas to a speech in just the right places when needed. For my money his real gift was his humour. This he used to great effect to defuse his audience and get them on side. He was also self effacing which never goes amiss with an audience. Like Gandhi, Reagan plumped for the soft delivery to exert his desired effect. His more illustrious predecessor John F Kennedy was definitely more in the loud camp. He was obviously a very able speaker and used his natural confidence very wisely.

The great orators date from the time of Demosthenes in Ancient Greece but the styles have probably changed very little over the years. Those who can't control their passion tend to be louder and those who can tend to be softer. On that basis, Dr. Martin Luther King evidently had trouble controlling his passion. He remains the finest speaker I have ever heard. I could never tire of listening to him. This man was the great motivator for whom hundreds of thousands would understandably turn up. His conviction was frightening and I can't imagine anybody else being able to come near to it. Like Gandhi, he espoused the concept of peaceful protest. Although his famous dream is not yet fully realised, it is well on the way.

I can but hope that someone with a fraction of their conviction will soon appear in our public life. Speakers Corner in London is now little more than a tourist landmark although I'm aware that there are still those who exercise their right to free speech. This is how people like Lenin started and changed their world so much. If we are to see a real change in our public life, there has never been a greater need for a conviction politician. The peers of Churchill such as Nye Bevan were nearly all highly skilled orators who could take an audience by the scruff of their neck and get their message across. By contrast we have the insipid triumvirate of Cameron, Clegg and Milliband. I sit here helplessly hoping for something better. I can but hope..

Too much of anything..

It is difficult to understand what the English and Australian cricket authorities were thinking when the decision was made to schedule back-to-back Ashes series. The current series draws to a close this week at its traditional venue for the last Test. The Kennington Oval has witnessed the final Ashes Test for many years and this week bids farewell to one of the least memorable series for many years.

When Stuart Broad chose not to walk when clearly out in the First Test, I wrote of the negative impact on the game. Since then, he has sought to rub yet more salt in to the already inflamed wound by saying he has no regrets. Sometimes it is better to leave well alone and hold your tongue. Stuart doesn't seem very well advised in this area and the cost will be paid this winter.

Because the authorities have chosen to have another Ashes series so soon after this one, the memory of his bad sportsmanship will be very fresh in the minds of our Australian cousins and they will remind him of his words periodically. If ever words will come back to haunt a player, these will. The late Tony Greig once boasted that the would make the West Indians grovel at a time when their fast bowling department demanded large supplies of immodium for English batsmen. The Whitewash was duly delivered and Greig had those words served up to him for the rest of his days. Greig's error was to use bravado despite advice to the contrary. Broad's error was to cheat and then pronounce his pride in doing so. This is a real pity because his bowling performance in the last Test match was truly brilliant. Sadly, this performance will now take second place to his lack of sportsmanship in the First Test. There would be a certain justice to all this if the Australians were to win this week's Test. In truth, the 3-0 scoreline thus far hardly does them justice. They have been much better than that and but for the rain in Manchester would have broken their duck by now. They were also very unlucky early on so they could easily be going in to the final Test at 2-2. They are where they are though and must now seek to let their cricket do the talking. They have been steadily improving recently and but for the new consistency of Ian Bell, England's batting has displayed all the sturdiness of balsa wood up to now.

To guard against the inevitable ill feelings which have now festered since June, the authorities would have been well advised to cancel this winter's Ashes and revert to two-yearly series. It is scandalous that the English authorities choose to support Broad in all of this. This reflects well on nobody and they ought to have nipped this in the bud before now. To endorse cheating is to give a thumbs up to our young cricketers to behave as they like. Our reputation for upholding the spirit of the game is being poured down the drain by a generation of overpaid brats.

Talk this morning continues regarding the impending move of The Welsh football player Gareth Bale to Real Madrid. At £80 million, the purported fee amounts to about 7.5% of the total NHS budget for North Wales.
Perhaps I'm stuck in a middle aged time warp but I just can't make any sense of this. As good a player as he might be, there seems an obscenity here which just won't go away. When the NHS is so desperate for financial input just to keep its head above water, all around it seems to be swimming in a sea of madness. The head of the Royal College of General Practitioners last night condemned plans for free health checks for the over 40s as being a waste of money. Seeking to justify her view, she went on to claim that the money would be better spent treating those in need. If she could just remove her blinkers, she would surely see the merit of identifying a problem before it gets out of control. Its far better to identify somebody with high blood pressure than wait until they land up on a stroke or heart attack unit. I would have thought this common sense. Fire fighting is all very well but never addresses the root cause of a problem. A little money invested now will save a lot more in the future. It is worrying to here the leader of the Royal College speaking in such terms.

Last year, our population in the UK grew by a net 400,000. I am only surprised that such a huge figure is not being more widely reported. The consequences of this trend are obvious. While it is true that people are taking longer to die, the fact is that more more and more babies are being born. Just over 20% were born to parents not born in the UK. This means that our multi cultural society is about to become even more so. The scarcity of jobs we currently face is only likely to get worse in the future as our manufacturing base continues to erode. There are only so many TVs and smart phones which we can buy and sell. The Welfare State as we once knew it is fast becoming a remnant of the past as budgets are tightened to try and pay off our mountainous debts. The NHS is "free at the point of access" in name but the reality is far removed from this. Put simply, the core services underpinning our infrastrucure are at breaking point now. o continue to heap the burden upon them can only end in tears. The future will bring a set of challenges which will need require the attention of a magician. In most parts of the country now, private property rents are now beyond the scope of the many so that a housing crisis is now inevitable. While the sale of council houses in the 1980s introduced a whole new generation to the concept of property ownership, the result is a housing shortage which will inevitably exert even more stress on our already buckling green belt. At this rate, the whole country will be one big housing estate littered with a sprinkling of all conquering supermarkets supplying the foods which sustain the pressure on our struggling NHS. What we really need is wide open spaces where people can think to free up their minds and move to exercise their bodies. We can't stop people having babies and we can't stop the trend of people living longer but there is a middle ground here which nobody seems to want to address. Britain is a small island being swamped by people. As the song goes, "Something's got to give"!  

Eureka!

This summer my family had a short weekend break to West Yorkshire. On our first day we went to the National Children's museum in Halifax. Apart from the stunning beauty of the surrounding countryside, the Eureka museum is a testament to the importance of our children.

Great imagination has been deployed to create a museum which holds something for all children up to about the age of 10. I say 10 tentatively because it was evident on our visit that many of the adults were more immersed in the activities than their progeny. This just goes to reinforce the value of play in childhood and beyond. We spent a whole day there but I could easily have spent two because there was just so much to do and take in. It reminded me of the importance of spending and sharing time with our children because aside from anything else, it is always so rewarding.

For anybody in the UK reading this with children in the family up to the age of 10, I would strongly recommend this as a great day out. The Eureka project is a registered charity and so is reliant on donations. Entry is reasonably priced and, as you would expect, the whole place is very family friendly. You can go to their wonderful cafe if you wish or take your own food. For the latter, you are given the choice of an old railway carriage, a marquee or outdoor picnic tables - wonderfully thought out.

The second day of our break was spent at the National Media Museum in Bradford. Once again, this was another great day. Once more a charity, this time entry was free but a donation was politely welcomed as you left. I was taken back to my childhood every five minutes in this seven storey homage to television, photography, radio and the film. This time, one day was barely enough to plough your way through an extraordinary array of exhibits and information. The history of the media we now take for granted was amazing and it was enlightening to appreciate how far we have come in such a very short time. Once again, the whole set up was both child and family friendly. If you're feeling particularly adventurous, you can even have a go at reading the six o clock news or practice filming on a TV set. It goes on and on but is well worth a visit. You have free access to a vast archive of BBC TV and Radio programmes which are great value.

On the last morning of our break, I was sadly reminded that not everybody is child friendly. Our hotel boasted a swimming pool which we accessed daily. Our child is learning to swim so it was a welcome resource for him and us. Unfortunately, the pool belonged to a health club and so health club members shared the facility with hotel guests. Shared. Not always an easy concept with some people. Understandably, children were not allowed in the pool after 7.00pm as this was a designated time for adults - most local swimming baths employ a similar policy so no surprises here. Until this morning we mixed happily with the members and they with us. This morning though, a lady and her friend took exception to our child being in the pool. There were three of my family and the two ladies in a swimming pool which I would have thought a reasonable number with plenty of room for everyone. Not so. She was verbally unkind about our child being in her pool because she was a member and her membership cost a lot of money. Furthermore, she didn't like getting her hair wet. To the latter there was no obvious response. It would be a bit like a baker saying he didn't like getting dough on his hands or a hairdresser saying they didn't like touching hair.

Aside from this one lady with an over inflated understanding of her membership, we had a smashing time and would go back if only to give her hair the wetting it is plainly crying out for. In hindsight, I felt she had lost the enjoyment of play. I think she had just stopped having fun. I have every intention of embracing play, fun and enjoyment for as long as there is air in my lungs - I hope you'll join me?

As good as yesterday is

When a retired nurse chose to leave £500,000 to the government, a furore erupted this week. Had our government been a majority rather than a coalition, it would have been a lot easier for the ruling party to take the money in to their party coffers. Once again, the benefits of a coalition resulted in panic and confusion. Little did that lady know the storm she would cause by this simple act of generosity. As soon as the story broke in the media, a battle of "we couldn't possibly accept it" broke out between Cameron and Clegg to try and reclaim the moral high ground.

This act is not without precedent though. As I write, a will left to the country as long ago as 1928 continues to cause a bigger headache with the passage of each year. Held in trust by Barclays, the sum now amounts to £350 million pounds - not insubstantial I think you would agree. The problem revolves around the wording of the will. The money was left so that the country could use it to pay off its debts. The problem is that we have never been close to being able to do that. Thus the money remains in trust with Barclays desperate for it to be dispersed to good causes and business ventures. As frustrating as it must be for Barclays to be holding this money, they also have a moral obligation to see that the terms of the original will are honoured. It is hardly the fault of the benefactor that our country has been run beyond its means for these last 85 years.

While I'm sure we could all think of good and honourable uses for such a huge sum, it has been left for a specific purpose and must eventually be employed as such. In a way, these two cases almost serve to warn people away from altruistic acts. That would be a great shame because to leave the world with more than you took from it ought to be the aspiration for all of us. It is also reported that the charitable sector is suffering due to the disclosed salaries of some of the chief executives. This is regrettable. It seems as though the business ethos which has so pervaded our every movement has now come to exert its principles within the last bastion of freewill.

I today visited our local hospice and was humbled by the provision for the people in most need of our help. Without the charity fundraising, that hospice and many others like it would just cease to exist and end of life care for millions would return to dismal experiences of yesteryear. If you've ever visited one, you will appreciate exactly what I'm getting at. The problem of course is that many people have never been inside one to see at first hand the remarkable difference they make. Seeing really is believing.  

Join together?

During last week's National Eisteddfod in Denbigh, the stand of Denbighshire County Council was stormed by protestors. Members of Cwmdeithas yr Iaith (The Welsh Language Society) were chanting "Wales is not for sale".

The Society is now 50 years old and has a long history of protest against the perceived erosion of the Welsh language and culture. It was this society who successfully brought about the birth of the Welsh Language TV channel S4C in 1982. It is no surprise that they chose the National Eisteddfod to make their most recent protest given that this is the most important cultural gathering in Wales. Their stated aims are six-fold.

The first aim is to secure the future of the Welsh language by the year 2020. They also want a new Welsh Language Act aimed at both the private and voluntary sectors. They want to see Radio Camarthenshire brought to task about the fact only 5% of its broadcasts are in Welsh against a population of 50% Welsh speakers. They are also supporting more use of the Welsh medium in schools in teaching and examinations. Finally, they want to see more politicians in the Welsh Assembly speaking Welsh.

These are admirable aspirations but I doubt whether they are achievable with or without protests. The biggest problem they face is the English language which dominates the media and culture not just in Wales but throughout the world. In short, they face an uphill battle as evidenced by the results of the 2011 census. The figures don't lie.

In 2001, 192 council wards boasted populations with more than 50% Welsh speakers. By 2011 this figure had dropped to 157 wards. Furthermore, in the ten years between 2001 and 2011 the percentage of Welsh speakers in Wales dropped from 21% to 19%. The trend is undeniable and inevitable. Even the two Welsh "heartlands" of Carmarthenshire and Ceredigion now show Welsh as a minority language for the first time.

For all that though, I do have the greatest sympathy with Cwmdeithas yr Iaith on one point. Their protest slogan "Wales is not for sale" was in response to the stated Local Development Plan (LDP) of Denbighshire County Council (DCC). In this plan, DCC plans to dictate what can be built and where. Cwmdeithas justifiably believe that this will impact negatively on the Welsh Language. Of course they are right because the new houses and businesses will supply more English speakers than Welsh. Quite why the local council is deemed the correct body to decide on such massive decisions is frankly a mystery to me. Their track record is pretty poor in anyone's book with the logic of their decisions only usually obvious to themselves. The Children's Village in Rhyl still stands as a testament to their capacity to waste. The farce of the former North Wales Hospital which they have overseen since 1995 is little short of a public outrage. The power they now have is disproportionate to their acountability.

That said, learning Welsh or any other language as an adult is very difficult. In fact, all the research shows that children need to be exposed to new languages before the age of 5 if they are to thrive with new languages later on. As such, adults coming to Wales from England (of whom many) can hardly be expected to suddenly learn a new language if they don't have the basic skill. Also, I can't think of many places where Welsh is so dominant as to preclude the use of English. Sadly for Cwmdeithas, these are facts however unpalatable.

This campaign will ultimately go one of two ways. They will either seek Welsh independence and witness an exodus of people in to England or they will reluctantly continue as they are and watch their language slowly erode over the years and decades. Of course, the former grows in appeal as they witness the Scots seeking their own independence. The end of the Union would not be good for the United Kingdom. The UK has been the power it has been since the Union of 1707 because it has been united. Such power would not be realised in spite of the Union.

Union seems a dated word now but remains as pertinent today as ever. In terms of marriage, trade unions and the UK it still assumes massive importance. Granted, the Union of Marriage is not the power it once was. Also, the Trade Unions now have a fraction of the power they had during the 50s, 60s and 70s. If Wales and Scotland really want to become divorced from the Union, they would do well to consider the Trade Unions and the Union of Marriage.       

Us and Them

On police advice, the energy firm intent on fracking under West Sussex is today reported to be scaling back its operation. Because we live in a democracy in which free speech is permitted, the protestors have achieved a moral victory in the war. Long may it last.

These protestors like the women at Greenham Common in the 1980s are entitled to their view. I suspect history will look back on them as being far ahead of the rest of us. This whole episode is driven by the need for energy in a carbon dependent world. It does not have to be like this and they are merely seeking to highlight this reality. The array of renewable energy forms is is growing all the time. Admittedly, many of them are prohibitively expensive in the short term to the vast majority of us. In the long term though, most forms of renewable energy just make so much sense. Anything which moves us away from carbon fuels can only be a positive step in the right direction. We shouldn't just be doing this to make ourselves feel better although this is a good start. We really need to be thinking about the generations who will ultimately inherit this amazing planet. The protestors have been a shining example of democracy in action. Nobody has been killed and ordinary people have been granted the basic human right of expressing their view.

In Cairo today, democracy must seem a million miles away for the Egyptian people struggling to address the recent decision to remove the democratically elected government. There is absolutely no point in having a vote if the army is just going to do what it wants anyway. In effect, they have a dictatorship hiding behind the guise of the army. That people have died during peaceful demonstrations is shocking to me and serves as a reminder to us all just how lucky we are in the UK. Sure, we have plenty to moan about in our everyday lives but compared to the people of Egypt, we don't know we're born.

Even though it is unsettling to learn that the BBC is not to be investigated further for irregular payments to senior managers and even though corruption is as alive here as anywhere else, at least our police aren't yet given orders to open fire on innocent civilians. In the great big scheme of things, we have much to be thankful for.

A Real Problem in a Plastic World

When was the last time you went a whole week without generating any plastic waste? By my reckoning, this is now nigh on impossible in the UK. The world today is awash with the stuff and the consumer faces the prospect of getting rid of it at every given turn. This is the problem.

In terms of recycling facilities for plastic, the UK is poor. How can we reasonably expect the average householder to recycle all their plastic if there is no facility or incentive to do so. One thing is clear - it is not an option to just keep on throwing it in to land-fill. One of the biggest problems with land-fill is that it is always out of sight and so, by inference, out of mind.

This is a huge problem which successive governments seem reluctant to address. The growing dominance of the big supermarkets has contributed in no small part to this growth. Up until recently, a sole green grocer fought against the might of three supermarkets in the town where I live. It was one of those old style green grocers which had its produce displayed in neat tubs below mirrors. You picked your own produce, weighed it according to how much you needed and placed it in to a brown paper bag ready to pay for it. Sadly, that greengrocer is no more because the perceived convenience of the supermarket has won the day. For the most part, supermarkets offer us produce in plastic containers of a pre-determined weight. We are quite happy to be dictated to by them which contributes in no small part to the obscene amounts of food waste which we generate weekly.

What would happen if the government were to impose a tax on plastic containers? The Welsh government has already imposed a tax on plastic bags. In the Principality, you have to pay 5 pence if you require a plastic bag. Consequently, the number of plastic bags being used has plummeted. It is widely thought that if supermarkets were taxed on the excessive amounts of packaging which they impose on us, they would simply pass the cost on to us. The example of plastic bags in Wales appears to confound this theory. The only reason so much is thrown away at present is because there is hardly any alternative.

A new plastic packaging tax allied to a radical increase in the number of recycling facilities would drastically reduce the amount of natural resource being thrown away. Perhaps many people are indifferent to the extent to which it pervades their lives but I just don't understand how we have come to accept waste on such a massive scale.

In 1969, the Kinks released a song called "Plastic Man". The kings of English whimsical social comment were seeking to break out of the doldrums since their commercially unsuccessful album "Village Green Preservation Society" in 1968. The song sought to mock the growing trend towards using plastic and the central character was a plastic loving man whose children all wanted to emulate him. Even being banned by the BBC didn't do it much good. Normally, a BBC ban is as near to a guarantee of commercial success as you could wish for. It was banned, believe it or not, for the line "And plastic legs which reach up to his plastic bum". It seems then that just as the Kinks failed to get the message across in 1969, we still seem to be struggling with this inert nuisance in 2013.  

Feeding the five thousand

Britain's farmers have today pointed to the worrying over dependence on imported food to the UK. This is all very well but rather misses the point. The reason why the country is now importing far higher volumes of food from abroad is very simple. We have a population which is simply too big for the size of country we have. This is therefore not an argument of race. This is an argument of logistics. As the population grows in size and its demand for food does likewise, their demand also extends to housing.

New housing has two potential sources. The first and most senseless is the demolition of existing housing to build new houses in its place. Logic alone tells us that the new housing will on average house the same number of people as before. The next source is to build houses where none previously existed. The latter is a worrying trend which has two effects. It reduces still further the amount of land from which we can hope to grow produce or rear livestock. It also increases the human burden on the limited home grown foods currently available.

The misgivings of the farmers are thus in vain. Until we start to recognise that the UK is in fact only a small country, we will not come to appreciate that it can only support a finite number of people. Of course, over population is a global issue but we should at least seek to be approaching it with a little more common sense in our own back yard.

Two loaves and five fish were all well and good in the hands of Jesus but we mere mortals can't very well emulate such miracles.

The things we said today..

Writers of good quality farce the world over could have drawn inspiration this morning from the interview which took place between Evan Davis and Chris Bryant. It will serve for a long time to come as a warning to people wanting to leak little snippets of what they plan to say later on the same day.

Frankly, there is always something preposterous about anyone agreeing to go on radio or TV to discuss the content of a speech they will be making later on the same day. Perhaps my tendency to simplicity has got the better of me but I would have thought it wiser to just say what you have to say in your speech.

What transpired this morning was priceless.  The shadow minister had yesterday allowed pieces of his speech out for general consumption. By the time the press had put it through the mangle, Bryant was all but a racist. In fact, he can blame nobody but himself. You can't very well say on one day that you plan to make a speech in which you seek to chastise two of the biggest retailers in the country (Tesco and Next) for their bias toward employing foreign workers and then quickly back track in the middle of a live interview on the radio. This though is exactly what happened. I wanted somebody to cut the broadcast so that Bryant could be put out of his misery. A mere animal would not have been allowed to suffer in such a way.

If there is a learning point from today, it probably runs along similar lines to the decision made by a captain when winning the toss before a cricket match. If you win the toss, elect to bat.  If the wicket looks like it might favour the bowlers, elect to bat. If everyone is screaming at you to bowl, elect to bat. Put simply it takes someone very brave or a fool to choose to bowl first and as we all know there exists a fine line between bravery and folly. So too must it be for those seeking to create an impact with a speech. If asked for details of the speech, tell the person to come to the speech and listen.  If asked for an interview regarding the content of the speech on the Today programme, explain to the well meaning interviewer that you first intend to deliver your speech and will be happy to answer any questions afterwards.

I make no apologies here for taking the opportunity to repeat the wise words of Mark Twain which I have used many times before. It is sometimes better to stand there and look stupid rather than open your mouth and remove all doubt..

As a final point to Mr. Bryant, he seems to be missing the most important point. An employer be they Tesco, Next or anybody else will invariably give the job advertised to the person who is best qualified and who most wants to do it. If they happen to be foreign workers, that is entirely a matter for the employer because they have to get the best that is out there for their money. The real question appears to be, Why won't British young people apply for some of these jobs? The answers to such a question might not provide the sort of material which tends to earn votes. Probably safer to punt this one in to the long grass Mr. Bryant!

On a more cheerful note, I was able to cast a glance stateside for the latest story of lunacy. It seems a judge has ordered the renaming of a baby. The parents had originally registered his name as Messiah but the judge reminded them that there had only ever been one true Messiah. Where exactly was this judge when the Beckhams decided to name their progeny? On a serious note, although a Christian myself, this story kept taking me back to the Life of Brian. When the crowds gathered outside the house of the one they thought to be the Messiah and called for him, his mother appeared at the window with the timeless reply, "He's not a Messiah, he's Brian and he's a very naughty boy". Only in America...Would he have approved of David Bowie calling his child Zowie or any of the other examples of Rock idiosyncracy? Seemingly Messiah is now becoming rather a popular name among new parents in the States.  Why not? The only potential drawback is that you are faced with rather a lot to live up to.....

One for the road?

In 2010, alcohol concern Wales published a damning report on the consumption of alcohol in Wales. The current trend is just the culmination of a relationship which has been around for about 4,000 years. It was really the coming of the industrial revolution which brought about a new social attitude to alcohol. For the first time, heavy drinking became accepted as a social norm as men were expected to work long hours under oppressive conditions. One historian was even quoted as describing alcohol as "the real opiate of the Welsh".

As the tend toward excess grew, so too did the emerging temperance movement. Up until quite recently, it was all but impossible to buy an alcoholic drink anywhere in certain parts of Wales on a Sunday. This, of course, coincided with the growth of the now struggling Chapel movement.

It is now estimated that increasing numbers of adults in Wales are drinking alcohol at levels so far in excess of guideline limits as to be deemed hazardous to health. At no surprise to myself, large numbers of those who took part in the study did not understand the system of alcohol units used to measure drinking consumption. The current system is great for the doctors who are trained to ask you how much alcohol you drink. It is not so great for a public which just needs to know how much their limit is and how much each drink is. Obviously, not everyone wants to know but the majority do. Those who took part said that they gauged the number of units they had drunk based upon such factors as "whether the room is spinning" or "whether I need to be put in to a taxi and taken home". Not ideal and certainly not very scientific!

Of particular concern is the revelation that Wales boasts one of the highest rates of under age girls and boys who admit to having been drunk. Left to continue, these are the people who will exert a massive financial strain on the already buckling NHS in their later adult years. The prominent association of several brewers with various branches of sport where the Welsh excel is a big concern in desperate need of governmental attention.

During their medical school training, doctors are encouraged to ask people how much they are drinking and mentally double the figure because research shows that people tend to be somewhat conservative when it comes to admitting the true extent of their drinking habits. As such, the findings that 52% of men and 38% of women admit to drinking too much is very worrying.

This week has just seen the National Eisteddfod come to Denbigh and these reports of drinking to excess were in evidence every single night. The amounts drunk have been staggering and even Christmas week would struggle to compete with such high levels. In a way, it's sad to think that people have come to Denbigh from different parts of Wales to do what they probably already do when they go home. It doesn't reflect very well on their thirst for local culture but it does confirm their thirst.

When I was growing up, certain Welsh icons were held up as the heroes of the drinking culture. Of the many I could list, two in particular deserve special mention. At the height of his fame, the late Richard Burton could pretty much name his price for appearing in his latest film. His capacity to drink was the stuff of legend. By 1974, he was reported to be drinking three bottles of vodka per day. This equates to 84 units per day as compared to a recommended weekly allowance of 21 for a man. He was therefore drinking his way through about 28 times his recommended weekly allowance - conservatively speaking. It is said that his liver was palpable before the age of 40 due to the inevitable effects of cirrhosis. Ironically, he had been a noted athlete in his youth. He incurred a stroke in 1984 and died soon afterwards. He was buried with a book of poetry written by the other Welsh icon who I have singled out for special mention.

Dylan Thomas was a great poet and writer. Burton famously narrated his timeless piece "Under Milk Wood" with his highly prized voice. Compared to Thomas, Burton was positively ancient when he died. Dylan Thomas died at the tender age of 39 after having just consumed 18 straight whiskeys by his own admission. Thomas died in New York and Burton in Switzerland. Thus, they both exported this aspect of their Welsh culture abroad. Both born under the star sign of Scorpio both of these Welsh men were noted for their fiery personalities. Their drinking reflected the places which had produced them. Thomas was from Swansea and Burton from nearby Port Talbot. Times were hard in the early lives of both men and drinking was an accepted way of dealing with it. Burton's father was a miner, a "12 pints a night man". This was not abnormal then and sadly, it is not abnormal now.

The young people who came to Denbigh for the National Eisteddfod this week only confirmed the worst suspicions of Alcohol Concern Wales. Drinking for the sake of getting drunk is now the culturally accepted norm. The legacy of this sanctioning will be seen by us all in the years to come unless action is taken now.

That action needs to address education because by the admission of this report, people don't actually know how much they are drinking or whether that amount is detrimental to their health. Sponsorship needs to be taken far more seriously because it is giving the thumbs up to the young. Daily and weekly limits need to displayed more prominently in public places so that people can better understand the implications of their lifestyle choices. Last of all, a minimum price for alcohol needs bringing in - provided it is applied to the supermarkets as well. Only this will signal the end of cut price deals on alcohol. Aside from the fact that the supermarkets are operating on a different playing field to the pubs, they are unfairly getting people through their doors by immoral means and worse still, confining people to drinking unseen in the comfort of their own homes. The latter is very dangerous. Drinking in a pub is witnessed by your peers. Drinking at home isn't. There is an important difference which few people seem eager to address.  

Behind the painted smile

When Lisa Gherardini agreed to model for Leonardo da Vinci in 1503, she could scarcely have imagined the impact she would have on art half a millenium later. The portrait has hung in the Louvre since its acquisition by Francis I in in the mid 1500s. Da Vinci presented it as a gift to the French gift on moving to France in the sixteenth century - some gift! The Mona Lisa is probably the one piece of art with which almost evrybody is familiar. Her enigmatic smile has inspired reams of newspaper print trying desperately to decipher what she was thinking. Whatever your own opinion, the portrait is undeniably captivating and continues to be the jewel in the crown of the Louvre in Paris.

It is announced today that plans are afoot to exhume the skeleton of the body believed to be that of Lisa Gherardini. Despite there being no concrete proof that she was indeed the subject for this portrait, the exhumation will carry on regardless in what is fast becoming a somewhat pointless and tiresome trend. The exhumation this year of the body believed to be that of Richard III has created more problems than it has solved. Rival factions have become embroiled in a row regarding where he should be buried. Although a supermarket car park has done the job perfectly well up to now, the Yorkists seem keen to rekindle the flames of five hundred years ago. The value of coins dating from the two year reign of Richard III have subsequently sky rocketed such is the fickle way with which the news is exploited for capital gain.

Not to be out done though, another group of archaeologists have now claimed they have located the final resting place of King Alfred the Great in Winchester. Alfred died in the year 899 ad so you have to wonder just how far back these people seem intent on going to unearth another erstwhile resting monarch. Alfred of course is famed for stopping the heathens from invading. If he went out on any given Saturday night near me, I wonder whether he'd be able to spot the difference? The heathen army were principally made up of Vikings and in the end Alfred had to make peace with them. As such, Wessex remained the only Viking-free part of England for some of his reign. In due course he made amends and the remaining Vikings were confined to East Anglia and Northumberland. Our modern day boroughs are a legacy of the burghs created by this early king. Alfred also recognised and rewarded the advancement of learning.

But back to the Mona Lisa. This picture is no stranger to controversy so it should come as little surprise that these plans are being made to confirm her identity. 102 years ago in 1911, the painted smile was stolen thus giving rise to an international incident. Vincenzo Perrugia was an Italian who in 1913 hid overnight to execute the perfect crime. After keeping the painting in his Paris apartment for two years, he returned to Florence where his deed was discovered after he tried to attract the interest of a Florentine museum curator.

Regardless of its history, we may never know the true identity of the lady who gave us that smile. I doubt very much whether she would be smiling now if she knew of these hopeful plans to prove the identity. Some things are best left and this is undoubtedly one of them.

Popularity: An endless pursuit

The world today is a lot different from that of 60 years ago and beyond. The coming of teen idols in the 1950s such as Elvis Presley, Tommy Steele, Adam Faith and Cliff Richard changed all that. Seriously though, I don't doubt that the pursuit of popularity has always been with us because history is riddled with examples of people wanted to be loved by their peers.

When Will Young shot to fame in 2002 as the first winner of "Pop Idol", a whole new industry was born which soon spread relentlessly beyond the spheres of popular music. It was at about the same time as this that the Tony Blair government was beginning to master the art. He also learned that you can fool some of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, all of the people some of the time but never all of the people all of the time. In keeping with his instinct for being in the right place when it was to his advantage, he vacated Downing Street in 2007 when he saw what was on the horizon. Far better to step aside and let someone else deal with that particular tsunami of doom.

Famously, Max Clifford has made his fortune as a publicist for the stars. Many of them have benefited from his ability to garner support for their cause when accused of something unpalatable. This has now assumed an irony of its own as Mr Clifford himself defends himself against accusations of impropriety with girls aged 14 to 19.

Since its election in 2010, the coalition can hardly be accused of courting popularity with the electorate. For reasons beyond its control, it has had to take decisions which they would rather not have taken. These decisions are not vote winners but they are being made with the future of the country in mind. Whether my brief assessment here is correct or not will ultimately be decided by you and I if we can be bothered to exercise our right to vote in 2015.

It is not just at national level that the quest for popularity is taking place. Yesterday, I read with a mixture of disbelief and astonishment the minutes of a recent meeting held by Denbighshire County Council. Last week, they took it upon themselves to explore ways in which they could achieve their stated goal of "being closer to the community". The problem here is that they ought to be concentrating not on their perceived popularity but on the validity of their decisions. If they have to question their decisions, they have very likely made the wrong ones in the first place. The recent decision to close a village primary school has attracted waves of resentment. What intrigues me is why they are surprised?

Last week, they announced their intention to pursue a compulsory purchase order on the former North Wales Hospital. This translates to a fait accompli. Given that they will undoubtedly make millions out of property development, it seems a bit rich to be closing what is after all, only a very small community primary school. It is precisely schools such as this one in which they should be investing. Seeking to close them down is counter intuitive.

The paranoid announcements made by several councillors are truly mind boggling. Should they ever think to stop what they are doing and consider why there are such high levels of animosity against the council, the answer shouldn't be too long in smacking them with the tenderness of an iron girder. Put simply, they could scarcely be doing more to disengage themselves from the people whom they purport to serve. The recent proposal to close St Brigids in Denbigh is just yet another example of their short sighted thinking. Rather then acting to support communities, the majority of their actions seem designed to destroy them. If the locality is to once more become vibrant, local communites will be the drivers because history tells us they always have been.

I would candidly suggest to the local council that instead of debating their unpopularity, they would be better served exploring the reasons for it. Therein lies the answer. Of course, nor must we discount the possibility that their stated aspiration to be closer to the community is just words designed to look good. For their sakes, I hope the latter isn't true because I get the distinct feeling that the people are poised to do battle. There comes a point when constant pushing will invoke a response.   

In the footsteps of giants

When the England cricket team announced that the 22 year old Joe Root was to open the innings with Alistair Cook this summer, they continued a proud tradition which arguably started on the 1909 tour to South Africa.

For that tour, the Yorkshire all-rounder Wilfred Rhodes was pushed up the order to open the innings with the legendary Jack Hobbs. As an opener, he was more resolute in defence than prolific in attack but provided the perfect foil for Hobbs attracting favourable praise from Wisden. At the end of his first class career, he had scored a shade less than 40,000 runs and took 4,204 wickets - both figures would be the stuff of dreams today. A career which had started in 1898 following the decision by Yorkshire to dispense with the left arm spinner Bobby Peel was to finally come to an end in 1930 at the grand old age of 43. His impact on the game was undeniable and in some ways he came to represent the dour image of the Yorkshire batsmen whose wicket had to be earned the hard way.

Just outside Harrogate 17 years after the birth of Rhodes, the man who would take up the baton was born. His career was delayed by the onset of the Great War and brought to a premature end by the Second. In between, Herbert Sutcliffe in many ways became the benchmark for all Yorkshire and England openers to follow. He kept good company. He formed a legendary pairing with Hobbs at the top of the England order from 1924 until the retirement of Hobbs in1930. Sutcliffe averaged more for England than his county and was reckoned by the top bowlers of his day to be hardest batsman to get out. With Percy Holmes, he opened the Yorshire innings from 1919 until Holmes' retirement in1934. They famously put on 555 runs for the first wicket against Essex at Leytonstone. Following the retirement of Holmes in1934, the young Len Hutton was chosen to open the Yorkshire innings with Sutcliffe. Sutcliffe's last England match was in1935 but he continued to open the Yorkshire innings with Hutton until the outbreak of war in 1939. It is impossible to estimate the value of that education to the young Hutton. On uncovered pitches, Sutcliffe averaged over 60 in tests for England while accumulating 4,555 runs. He went a step further than Rhodes before him by surpassing 50,000 runs in first class cricket albeit at the slightly inferior average of 52. His career total of 151 first class hundreds was going to take a bloody minded, focused person to go past it. That person would not come until the 1960s.

Hutton became the first professional captain of England in 1952. In 1938, at the age of 22, he scored 364 against the touring Australians at the Oval and his life would never be the same again. Like Sutcliffe and Rhodes before him, Hutton built his reputation on a brick wall defence. Step 1: don't get out - the runs will come later - and how they came. Despite losing six of his best years to the Second World War and incurring a serious injury to his arm, he still amassed 40,000 first class runs. This is all the more amazing given his decision to retire at the comparatively young age of 39 in 1955. He started and ended his test career against New Zealand in 1937 and 1955 and scored 6971 runs at an average of 56 with 19 hundreds. Hutton was just 21 when he first appeared for England and a mere 24 when he set the world record 364 runs in an innings.

There was a lull in the Yorkshire production line between 1955 and 1964. Then came Boycott. Geoff Boycott made his debut against Australia at the age of 23. Arguably the most selfish batsman of all time, he was the very picture of defence and throughout his career it was his cricket which the opposition bowlers prized most highly. His talent was limited compared to his contemporaries such as Jack Hampshire but he compensated with sheer obduracy. As a former opener myself, I know that it can sometimes be a bit of a lonely business consisting of you against them. Boycott took this concept more literally than most but tcicked off the milestones one by one until eventually he scaled the heights of Sutcliffe before his retirement in 1986. Unlike Sutcliffe, his test average of 47 was considerably lower than his first class average of 56. His 48,000 first class runs fell short of the mark set by Sutcliffe but he matched his 151 first class hundreds. Of his hundreds, the most famous was his 100th. He scored 191 at Leeds against the Australians just three matches after his comeback from a self imposed exile from test cricket. During his career, he split the county of Yorkshire in two and the county would go without the championship during his career. A leader of men he was not because the self was more important than the whole. Like Hutton before him, captaincy didn't come naturally to him - despite having an encyclopaedic knowledge of the game and its players.

In November 1999, Michael Vaughan made his test debut at the age of 24. I saw him bat in 1995 against Lancashire in a one day semi final and came away knowing that I had just seen the man who would take up the legendary baton vacated by Boycott in 1982. Vaughan was not surrounded in defence as his predecessors had been although he was a very able opener. What he did have was an array of shots through the covers which left the purists purring with pleasure. I've never seen anyone play the cover drive better than Vaughan although I'm told that Hammond and Cowdrey were the real masters of this shot. While Boycott and Hutton were insular old school openers ill disposed to the demands of captaincy, Vaughan was the exact opposite. He thrived on captaincy as evidenced by his glittering record. Like Sutcliffe, Vaughan rose to the occasion with England such that his England average eclipsed his first class average. His 5719 test runs were scored at an average of just 41 - but he also scored 18 hundreds many of which were big hundreds. If Vaughan got in, the opposition was there to be punished.

Joe Root by definition has the weight of history on his young shoulders. Thus far, he has one big hundred after three tests and that apart, he has hardly set the world on fire. It could be argued that he started the series as the bloke to whom the Australian David Warner threw a punch during the small hours at a bar. At such an hour, Boycott, Sutcliffe et al would have been in bed. Their approach to batting was based on preparation and a good night's sleep was seen to be part of that. Root still has much to prove but his pedigree at least is a good one.  

Splendid isolation

At the centre of Europe surveying all around them is the country which remains staunchly independent retaining its own currency and identity. They refuse membership of the European Union even though in many ways, they are the most European country of all with German, French and Italian regions. Switzerland has either been very shrewd or very stupid. When the global downturn came in 2008, you might have been forgiven for wondering whether the Swiss had even heard of it.

The country which has given us the technical brilliance of Roger Federer in many ways remains an enigma in international terms. In each of the two world wars, they took a neutral stance in a very loose sense of that word. It is now known that they harboured vast fortunes which had been sequestered from the millions who perished in the Nazi concentration camps. I read today that the Swiss intend to segregate asylum seekers away from public utilities such as libraries and swimming pools to try and avoid growing tensions from local residents.

It is a strange country because in the time I was there, I can't recall ever having seen any litter. To say it is unspoilt is an understatement. In a sense, you can only marvel at their obvious sense of pride in their country. Although you are made to feel welcome as a visitor, you can't help but feel that you are only being made to feel welcome up to a point. As I passed through Europe from one country to the next, the customs check points were little more than a cursory glance at you to be sure you weren't from Mars. The Swiss were rather more direct in their approach. As we arrived resplendent in flip flops, tea shirts and shorts, the gun-toting border guard asked the purpose of our visit. It was a challenge to desist from sarcasm. I chose to spell out that we were tourists because it was not obvious that humour was his strong point.

They were most definitely happy to take our money during our stay and for a good reason. Because they have held on to the Swiss Franc, they will change your Euros without complaint provided of course that the exchange rate works to their favour - and it always does. As reliable as their clocks and trains, their capacity to seek the best deal for themselves is second to none. I would definitely go back in the future if only to remind myself of its mixture of beauty and oddity.

Here in the UK we are considered isolated due to our being an island. To all intents and purposes, Switzerland is no different. They happen to be surrounded by land but not that you would know it. You may pass through but please don't ask to stay since refusal often offends!

Anything is possible..

It is nearly 100 years to the day since a roulette wheel in Monaco caused quite a stir. At Le Grand Casino, the colour black came up on 26 consecutive spins of the wheel. That night the casino made several million francs. Why? Because after the tenth spin yielded black, there was a stampede towards the table in question as people began to wager huge amounts on the colour red coming up on the next spin. This is often cited as the gambler's fancy. Although the chances of that sequence of black spins was over 1 in 136 million, people foolishly lost sight of the fact that the chances of red or black coming up on an individual spin were exactly the same each time - 18 in 37.

It illustrates nicely the warning which is attached to financial investments "Please note past performance is not an indicator of future performance and the value of your shares can go down as well as up". Perhaps what is even more amazing is the fact that the gambling industry is thriving in Monaco a hundred years later. It must be the uncertainty which people find attractive because all around them, their sense of logic is screaming at them to walk away.

Life is all about risk when we break it down. From the amount of alcohol we drink knowing its downside to the amount of fatty food we eat knowing the price we will likely pay later we all take choices which fly in the face of logic - and quite right too. If we all led lives based purely on logic, the world would become even more restricted than it already feels.

What history does not tell us about the incident in Monaco is whether anybody had the nerve to wait for the 27th spin of the wheel to place a huge sum on red. I like to think so because there is usually that one person capable of holding their nerve better than the next guy. As the saying goes, "everything comes to he who waits".

This seems to be the approach of the new Governor of the Bank of England. He has made the announcement that interest rates will remain at their historic low of 0.5% until unemployment falls below 7%. I don't want to sound like I know what colour will spin next but we can rest assured that we are entering a long period of low interest rates for richer or poorer.