Call me Dave! As Grok becomes a Nazi, I look back on the racism I saw in the workplace

Perhaps the most (or maybe not given who owns the company) strange story in the news today is that Grok (Elon Musk's AI tool) has become a Nazi. It made me consider the racism I saw first hand in the workplace. 

Once upon a time, I had a proper job. I worked in an office, with responsible adults. We had a highly important job and if we screwed up, the whole country could come to a halt. On one occasion (before I joined the team), we took down the emergency services telephone network in the West Midlands because someone made a silly mistake. Another time we blocked the M1 and caused a 17 mile tailback (again before my time). All of these were caused by basic IT errors in important systems, that had completely unforeseen impacts. On both occasions, the chairman of the company was called by a chief of police and told off, in no uncertain terms. The company was one of the biggest on the FTSE. I wont say what it was or what the system did, but we all use its service on a daily basis and it has nothing to do with either road management or emergency services. I was brought in to fix the cock ups, as a hired IT contractor. Back in the day, when I still had a brain, I was very good at such things. They gave me all the hard jobs and the things that the permanent staff didn't want to do. I figured that if I did the difficult and horrible stuff, I'd have a job and be able to pay the bills. I was taken on for three months. The contract ended up lasting  a fair few years. I was on call 24 x 7 for most of that period. When I left, a permanent member of staff took over. After three months, he told me that he couldn't believe the organisation had kept me on for 13 years, and I'd been getting money for old rope, I'd fixed all of the problems and he didn't twig that it was a pretty robust system. After six months, he was gone. They put some new software in,  had serious problems and he couldn't hack doing 36 hour shifts fixing it and getting shouted at by everyone. 

I wasn't the only contractor doing such work. There was a team of us. We were well renumerated for our efforts, but were expected to put our lives on hold. I had young kids and needed steady money, much of which I was funnelling back into my studios, as we built them up. I still meet up with the team I worked with. For a period, I thought we had the best team of people in the world in our field. Whilst other teams floundered and delivered nothing, we did all manner of leading edge work. But as so often happens in such worlds, you get no recognition for doing a good job. One of my best mates was a West Indian chap. We are still mates, we are meeting up soon for a beer. In our team was a permanent member of staff of Pakistani heritage. She was a maths graduate. We were discussing what aspirations we had for our children. She said something about her the school her daughter was about to start. Another member of the team, who we will call "The Jay Man" said "I don't know why you are worrying, you'll send her off to Pakistan to get married when she's fourteen". My jaw hit the floor. The team leader, an Australian lady, immediately hauled the Jay Man off to an office for a telling off. She then tapped my West Indian mate on the shoulder and dragged him off for a telling off. Apparently he'd laughed at the comment.

Within three months the Aussie lady had gone. She was replaced by The Jay man. Our team had three people from ethnic minorities, my West Indian mate, a Nepali and a Mauritian. Within six months, all had gone. Their contracts had not been renewed. A permanent member of staff also left. The Jay Man made it clear he didn't rate him. After he left, he told us all "If I call up, I don't want The Jay Man knowing its me, so call me Dave". The three departing contractors all muttered that they'd been the victim of ethnic cleansing within the department. I sarcastically noted "How can you possibly think Jay Man is at all racist, what has he ever done to suggest that he has a racist bone in his body". As hired hands on short term contracts, there was no real recourse. I pulled Jay Man up on it in the pub one time. He simply said "I didn't rate any of them". 

This all happened a long time ago, DEI policy came and seems to have gone in the intervening period. Almost all of the people I worked with then are either retired or semi retired. The system I worked on is long gone. When I look back on my contract with that organisation, I see the vast majority of my time there as a brilliant time. We had a great team and did some great work. We watched each others backs. the final couple of years were a bit different. We still did some great work. There were still some good moments, but I've always felt really uncomfortable with the fact that something that was completely out of order was going on. As a non permanent employee, who had bills to pay, I was in no position to do anything about it. After leaving that team, I had a short break and then went back to the same organisation in a completely different team. The manager of the new team was an Indian chap, a lovely bloke who I am still good friends with. I mentioned the Jay Man to him and he rolled his eyes. He confessed that the individual was well known amongst the non white employees of the organisation as a 'difficult person'. He then asked me how I got on with him. I said that although I never had any issues with him, I found his attitudes to be very challenging. He was very reliant on me at the time, as I was the last person who really understood the systems I worked on, he'd got rid of everyone else. He knew my opinions on what had happened. My new boss told me something that chilled me to the core. He said "If you want to get on in this place, you learn to keep your mouth shut about such things".

If you'd asked me fie years ago, I'd have said that such things were thankfully, a thing of the past. With the rise of Trump, Farage and the Alt Right, it seems that racism and fascism has come storming back into the world of IT.

Reflecting on the 7/7 atrocity twenty years after the event

I've dodged a few bullets (or should I say bombs) over the years working in London. Twenty years ago today was as close a bullet as I am luckly to get. I was on the number 30 bus behind the one that got blown up. If I'd been a bit more decisive, I'd have been onthe one that went bang. I was doing some IT work at Debenhams and arriving at Kings Cross Thameslink, I found the Victoria Line was shut. There was no mobile signal and I dithered. I've detailed the story before. I am not going to again here.

It is important to remember the victims, support their families, where we know them, and applaud the courage of those who were injured and went on to do great things with their lives. For me though, I have found it difficult to even listen to the coverage today. In recent weeks, I've found myself far more affected by disturbing memories of past difficulties than I have ever allowed myself to be. Although the carnage of 7/7 was literally all around me on the day, I managed to stay detatched and unaffected by it. I went to work as normal the next day in Aldgate. None of our team were affected directly. 

But, with the sands of time flowing, there are lost artefacts being revealed as the fog clears. For me, the most incomfortable memories are ones of my own reaction to certain events. The most difficult of all was when the news that the Police had shot Jean Charles Menezes was announced. He had no name, the news came through that "One of the terrorists who organised the bombings" had been shot. We all cheered and went to the pub to celebrate. It felt like a first world war squaddie in a trench must've felt when they heard a top German sniper had been taken out. About three days after the atrocity, I was on a Thameslink train into town in rush hour, and I found myself sitting opposite a chap in middle eastern attire, with a large rucksack. He was sweating profusely and looked extremely nervous. I convinced myself that he was another bomber. I was conviced that he was going to blow the train up. Then I looked and noticed that there was another, similar looking chap sitting nearby. They both had the same ring on their finger. I convinced myself that both of them were part of a bombing gang. I determined that if the chap opposite me did anything that might be construed as trying to detonate the bomb, I would launch myself at him and do everything in my power to stop him. I assumed that the bloke with him was armed and would take me out, but it might give a few people a chance. Of course nothing happened and they were not bombers. He was probably terrified as he had a good idea of exactly what the person opposite him was thinking. When I got off the train, I realised that the bombers had achieved their target and made me paranoid.

I often wonder how many innocent men of middle eastern extraction were hassled, reported to the police, etc, by people indulging in the same paranoia I was experiencing.  It was not completely irrational, dozens of people had been killed a couple of days before. The message was "be vigilant". But where does vigilance spill over into racism, paranoia and plain stupidity?

 When the bombs went off, we had Tony Blair as PM and Ken Livingstone as Mayor. This morning, I heard both of their speeches again. What happened was appalling. But they were calm, measured and sensible. There were no indisciminate retributions. Once the Met owned up and told the truth about Menezes, we were all horrified. Churches got together with Mosques to demonstrate community solidarity. We've had a few terrible incidents since, but the police have done a good job and have managed to foil most plots before they materialised. For terrorists to murder 52 civilians going around their business in London is shocking. As Ken Livingstone said at the time, the terrorists were not afraid of dying, but they were afraid of failure. In London they failed. Some of us (me included) had a major wobble. But once I got my head together, I realised the truth in what Livingstone said. These were his words

 

I know that you personally do not fear giving up your own life in order to take others - that is why you are so dangerous. But I know you fear that you may fail in your long-term objective to destroy our free society and I can show you why you will fail.In the days that follow look at our airports, look at our sea ports and look at our railway stations and, even after your cowardly attack, you will see that people from the rest of Britain, people from around the world will arrive in London to become Londoners and to fulfil their dreams and achieve their potential.

They choose to come to London, as so many have come before because they come to be free, they come to live the life they choose, they come to be able to be themselves. They flee you because you tell them how they should live. They don't want that and nothing you do, however many of us you kill, will stop that flight to our city where freedom is strong and where people can live in harmony with one another. Whatever you do, however many you kill, you will fail.

 When Livingstone said those words, I hoped what he said was true. Twenty years on, I know it is. We face threats, challenges and forces that wish to see us wiped off the face of the planet. We have people in our midst, who wish to fall into the trap that the bombers wished to set, to get us to strike back at innocent people. To turn us against each other. 

By the way, can I tell you what I did on the Evening of 7/7. I went down to the Mill Hill Tandoori and had a curry. The owner is a friend, a Bangladeshi Muslim, who is the chair of a Mosque. It was the only gesture I could think of doing that might actually mean anything in my world. The restaurant was packed with people, who had the same idea. The love in our community was there for all to see.

 I was thinking about all of this over the weekend. What motivates a man to kill people he doesn't know, to main and destroy lives? My thoughts went back to something a good friend once said. We were discussing the nature of what the afterlife might be like, should such a thing exist. He said that  for him, Heaven was a place of love. Where you can be at one with everyone you love, with no need for lies and pretence, just the pure joy of being around those that make you happy. And Hell? He said that he thought the biblical depiction of it, with demons roasting your nuts over hot coals forever was wrong. It is just a cold, lonely place, where you have no love, just the knowledge that you are alone and this is because you chose to turn your back on love. To me, the hearts of the 7/7 bombers is a cold, bleak place. Their minds poisoned by people who had as little regard for them, as they had for the people they killed.

 The thing I soon learned working in London is that things get back to normal very quickly. Hitler bombed areas of London flat, to no real useful effect for his war effort. Terrorists of many hues have tried, but within a few days, those of us not blown up are back in work back in the pubs, back in the cafes and restaurants and back at the gigs. The horrible truth, if you are a terrorist, is that bombing London is completely futile. We just get on with our lives.

 

Guest Blog - Memories of Mill Hill Swimming Pool by Chris the Mill Hillian

Hendon UD Council opened Mill Hill swimming pool in 1935. The recent hot spell brings back memories of how it was in my boyhood. Every year, first of May marked the start of the outdoor swimming season with the reopening of the pool in Daws Lane. The swimming pool was filled with fresh water to replace the grimy green water left from the previous season. The gates were again open to visitors. It was generally the bold and the brave who fancied a dip straight away delighting in the clean fresh water although the water temperature was quite cold at the start of the season so visitors were few. The fountains which aerated the water located at each end of the pool sprang into life and the school swimming trips started up in earnest.

On the way home from school in the summer months leading up to the start of the school holidays in July, the 240 bus would stop outside the pool and one of our mates who alighted would hurriedly run to observe the water and air temperatures scribbled on the chalk board and shout them up to us on the top deck before the bus moved off, then, if possible we could dash home for our tea and go back for a late afternoon swim. There was much enthusiasm to take a dip when the temperatures were in the high seventies. As I attended St Vincent’s Catholic School we had special days off known as Catholic Holy days in May, June and July, it was amazing how many people you would mingle with amongst family and friends and people you had not seen for ages on those days, all sorts turned up at the pool throughout the season as it was the go to place to cool off and for sunny social gatherings.

As the weeks went by and the rising temperatures of June and July approached with the onset of the summer holidays, the number of visitors increased considerably, so when the temperature reached the mid-seventies in Fahrenheit, the entrance queues would get longer and wind their way around the corner into the adjoining car park with waiting time of up to fifteen minutes before passing through the clunky iron turnstile with your swimming togs under arm. If you were passing by and fancied a cool off, you could hire a costume and towel at the gate. I recall the entrance charge in the sixties for youngsters was about sixpence.

Once the full summer temperatures peaked in the scorching heat of mid-summer, the place was packed out and it was a job to find a spot to lay out your towels and claim your pitch for the rest of your stay, often from early afternoon to closing time at around 7pm. The noise emanating from the pool area when full would drift across the park alongside and beyond. Each passing 240 bus deposited another group of eager swimmers who couldn’t wait to get changed and take a plunge along with their family and friends.

Once inside, it was a real spectacle of people watching, whether it was noting the swimmers getting air and sun to their whitened skin after the long winter months, courting couples who liked to snuggle up once in the pool, Young lads rushing around chasing, diving and bombing in the water and stylish expert swimmers taking smart dives from the diving boards into the nine-foot-deep water in the centre of the pool. The novices and learners tended to splash very carefully at the front end in two feet six inches of water learning to swim until they had the confidence to venture into the deeper parts of the pool. Adults like my Mum, loved to swim steadily from right to left or up and down at a gentle pace in the deeper less busy areas.

It was quite exciting to rush in and out of the cold fountains and babies in nappies would splash in the warmer and shallow children’s pool by the far end fountain. The authorities decided to move the back fence outwards to enlarge the resting area and maintained a grassed area here for those who preferred lying on grass to hot paving slabs. I wonder how they managed the numbers before increasing the area.

Once through the gates the genders were segregated to the cold draughty changing rooms which were very basic with high open roofs of bare iron girders, glazed roof panels and uninsulated roof coverings. You entered the space and walked on a cold concrete floor and got changed in a narrow wooden cubicle with a wooden bench and partitions and enclosed with a plain wooden door painted sky blue. In the Male areas clothes were piled into an iron basket with a hanging frame and hook and handed over to the attendants who placed them in numbered rows in a spacious hanging area then handed you a disc with your basket number which you attached to your costume with a safety pin; it could be awkward if you lost it in the pool. In the higher sticky temperatures those changing rooms stank of a mixture of sweaty socks, B.O. and the chemicals used to keep the pool clean. Then, after an impatient wait to deposit your basket of clothes at the counter, it was out through the “sheep dip” as we called the foot bath and off to find your pitch linking up with all the people joining you.

 Some made a cautious and steady walk down the steps into the fresh cold water, whilst others made a quick stylish racing dive whilst some simply jumped in. There were two slides; a small children’s slide with a wooden base and a steeper and longer stainless steel slide next to the diving boards discharging into the deep water. On occasion an ambulance would arrive to remove a casualty who got it wrong or passed out.

After spending a good while in the cold water, you went back to the towels dripping wet, shivering and occasionally with blue lips depending on the temperature, then lay in the sunshine to warm up if the sun was out and could treat yourself to a cup of something from the pool café with a bag of crisps or any other snack you might be able to afford. If your Dad was with you there was a better chance of snacking as he could afford it as pocket money had to stretch a long way for school kids. It was great to meet up and banter with your school mates and exchange views on all the happenings around you and starting to notice how the people from your school looked slightly different in swimming costumes noticing that the girls who started to develop curves, but a bit embarrassing if they were one of your relatives receiving male attention. Looking at old photographs it is noticeable how much leaner we all were back then.

At the end of the afternoon and after a long wait to collect your clothes we dressed hastily wondered off home feeling tired but relaxed with wet togs under arm. Some liked to visit the café for a cup of hot Bovril but not my particular fancy. I would prefer an ice cream from the sweet shop opposite.

As the summer days drew to a close and days got shorter the numbers fell off, then the pool would shut again at the end of September for maintenance and preparation for the next summer season. Often lads would attempt a night time dip climbing over the fence and having a great time running away from the park wardens. All for a good laugh.

I am sure that many of the Mill Hill residents can remember those pool outings for many reasons. I particularly recall going into the pool in the hot summer of 1976 in July as I was working on a chimney in nearby Poets corner and the midday heat got to me and my assistant Dave so we simply walked down to the pool and on entering took off all except our shorts and dived in to cool off, it was magnificent! 

That was my last visit before it closed. Happy days!!!

As the years went by warmer heated indoor pools became more of an attraction than Lidos and the numbers and interests in our unheated local pool decreased so Barnet Council decided to close it for good. 

The place stood dormant for a while in a state of dereliction in the early nineteen eighties and I took my son and his friends to see as it was easy to enter into the old place and walk on the infilled pool where animals were housed for a while before it was turned into a garden centre. The Pool is now Etz Chaim school. 

Here are some more pictures of the derelict pool.

The Derelict changing rooms and pool

The Fountain

The Toddlers Pool

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Guest blogs are always welcome at The Barnet Eye. Chris the Mill Hillian is a member of a long standing, well known Mill Hill Family. 

                       

The Saturday List #489 - Ten things I believe that are considered weird and whacky!

 I am not talking religion here. However mad religions seem to everyone else, they clearly seem entirely reasonable to the faithful, so I'm not going there. These are things that are really important to me, but are often met with incredulity by everyone else.

1. I believe that humans owe every other species on the planet an apology. We treat every other species on the planet in a terrible way. I try in my own way to do this. I have a wildlife pond and we have two rescue dogs, who had terrible lies before we rescued them.

2. I believe that greedy people can never be happy. To me, the true path to happiness is generosity to others.

3. I believe that nothing is ever as good or bad as it seems at the time. Hang on in there in the bad times and enjoy the good times, because they don't last forever.

4. I believe that Two Tone Ska and Punk Rock are the most important genre's of music in human history. I think all of the good social advancement of the last 40 years are due to these.

5. I believe that people should be taught at school to believe they have self worth. I think most of the problems people have is because their self esteem has been undermined. 

6. I believe that if you look in the mirror, you should always smile. If you can't smile at yourself, you need to do something to put that right.

7. I believe that people who are racist need to open their eyes and recognise the fact that we all share the same DNA apart from a few mutations that helped us adapt to different climates and diets. 

8. I believe that people who are sexists, especially violent misogynists are in fact deeply insecure individuals, who are in reality terrified little boys who never grew up

9. I believe that if you play music or a team sport, or preferably both, you will always have friends and be healthier and happier than if you don't

10. I believe that my Dad, who passed away 38 years ago is always three steps behind me, watching my back. So if you wanna stab me in the back, you might get a leather suppository from a scary Aussie ghost. 

If you re not doing anything today, why not nip down to The Jester Festival in Fortune Green, West Hampstead today. It's free and we are on at 5pm

Friday Fun 4th July 2025

 It's Friday, it's the start of the weekend! So in the grand tradition of the Barnet blogs we start with a joke to kick us off on the right footing! (Hat tip to our mate Robert Wilkinson)

You're so Venn pic.twitter.com/Lp8jO6RXjf

— Robert Wilkinson (@robertwlk) July 1, 2025

And on to the Barnet music round up!

Forthcoming Music in and around North West London. Some great things coming up

Sunday 3rd Aug 2025

The Arts Depot Pentland Theatre

UK Small Band Panorama – The Battle of the Steelbands

Book now 

Get ready for UK Small Band Panorama – The Battle of the Steelbands like you’ve never seen it before!

For the first time ever, this epic clash of rhythm and talent takes over artsdepot. Feel the rhythm of the pans as top UK Steelbands go head-to-head in a high-energy showdown. Who will take the crown?

One stage. One afternoon. Endless vibes. Don’t miss this unforgettable celebration of Caribbean music and culture – steelpan at its fiercest and finest!

Presented by JUST INCARNIVAL

 

The False Dots are hosting a Ska night with DJ Rebska at the Builders Arms in Barnet on Saturday July 12th. It's free! What could be better. 

 

And we have the East Barnet Festival coming up. This week our featured artist are the amazing Groove Rats

 

 

You can check out the whole programme  BY CLICKING HERE

Other Barnet gigs this week (courtesy of the wondeful Barnet Music Facebook page - make sure you follow it)

 

Friday 4th

Also East Barnet Festival......…

East Barnet RBLegion 8pm – late Karaoke with Caz

Barrington 8.30 - midnight - Karaoke with Neil

Butchers Arms 9pm - late - Fast and Bulbous (Jump blues, soul, garage punk and swing

The Haven 8pm – 11pm - Dennis Cook – (Musician, vocalist and DJ)

 

Saturday 5th July - Also East Barnet Festival......…

East Barnet RBLegion 9pm – 11.30pm - The Mkgs (Mod covers 4 piece)

Ye Olde Monken Holt 9.30pm – midnight  - Nially (Acoustic Covers)

The Arkley Club 8 – 11.30pm £5 on the door - Gemma Anne (60s to present day)

Toolans 9pm - Dylan Mascarenhas

 

Sunday 6th July

 

Hadley Green 1pm – 6pm - Jazz on the Green Festival featuring Highstone and The Truants (60s, 70s, 80s, 90s covers) 8 piece

East Barnet RBLegion 2pm – 5pm - Megan Coxall

Butchers 8.30 – 11.30pm - Butchers Arms Jam Electric/Blues/Rock (Full backline available)

Toolans 8.30pm - Frank Nelson

 

Monday 7th

Ye Olde Mitre Inn, High Street 8pm – 11pm (stables room) - Barnet Acoustics Session

 

Tuesday 8th

The Builders Arms 8pm – 11pm - Open Mic/Music Night (2nd Tuesday of month)

 

Wednesday 9th

Toolans 5pm - Glen Flynn 

Ye Olde Monken Holt 8.30 – 11pm - Open Mic Night

 

Thursday 10th

Ye Olde Monken Holt 8.30 – 10.30pm - Irish Session

 

Friday 11th

Butchers Arms 9pm – midnight - The Latest Flames (60`s, 70s covers 4 piece)

The Builders Arms 8.30pm – 11pm - W3 Detour Duo (Original Rock/blues)

Barrington 8.30 - midnight - Karaoke with Neil

 

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Rock and Roll Stories #38 - Getting it all back together part one

On Saturday, The False Dots will be playing at The Jester Festival in West Hampstead at 5pm. Our latest single is being regularly played by various radio stations and it is fair to say that I am enjoying making music as much, if not more than I've ever done. It seems strange to think that I hung up the guitar for ten years, between 1990 and 2000 and consigned such an important part of my life to the dustbin. I did not walk away from music. I spent the decade building the business that is now Mill Hill Music Complex from one rehearsal room in a lock up garage, to a ten studio complex, withr ecording facilities, a PA hire business and a music shop. I also managed a band in the middle of all of that, who achieved some minor successes. 

But I put the guitar in its case and didn't play it at all for a decade. The reasons were quite simple really. I'd lost my musical mojo. In 1990, there was really nothing on the music scene that excited me. The only number one that I really liked that year was The Joker by The Steve Miller Band, and that was a reissue from 1970! In hindsight, Dub International's Dub be good to me was a great record, but I rather sniffily dismissed it as just nicking a Clash bass riff and a rehash. All of the music I loved was in the wilderness, Punk and Ska were as unfashionable as it was possible to be. Wed had a decade of Thatcherism and it looked like we were set for another decade of it. The band had found it impossible to get gigs, apart from the odd one at local venues. Between 1980 and 1985 the band performed 44 gigs. Between 1986 and 1990, we performed four. All of those were in Mill Hill or Hendon. I thought I'd written some cracking songs, but when I played them to people they simply said "They sound really dated". I realised that I just wasn't enjoying the whole thing. I thought "We had a blast, but all the joy has gone". Tony, Grahame and Paul tried to persuade me otherwise, but I just had no energy for music. Sometime you have to admit defeat and do something else. Not having a band felt like a liberation. I was done with being a musician.

By 2000, the studio had taken shape. Not having the distraction of a band had meant I focused on running the business properly. We had a great team of employees, including Fil Ross and Toney Cavaye, who were both musicians. Tony started to nag me to have a jam. My then business partner, Ernie Ferebee had told them that I'd had a great band with some excellent songs. The idea of playing in a band again horrified me. I was going through some old cassettes and I found a track I'd written, when I'd been doing the songwriting course in 1985. It was called "It's raining outside". In 1987, we'd recorded it with a mate of mine, John Shillibeer, who is a brilliant singer. Johnny sounds a bit like Geroge Michael and Paul Young combined. I was stunned by how good it sounded. I thought to myself, maybe, as we now had a recording studio, I should record a few of the songs. No gigs, no pressure, just get the songs recorded for posterity and maybe if a famous artist turns up and is looking for a new song..... 

Having made my mind up about this, I went to see Paul Hircombe, our old bassplayer. Paul had tried really hard to persuade me to keep playing in 1990. I hadn't. Paul had been a partner in the studio with me until 1994. I bought him and my other partners out. In 1995, I'd had a massive fallout with my ex studio partners. Paul had tried to stay out of it, but when I went to see him, he said he didn't want to get involved. In his words "It would be too much stress". He was still playing in a band with my ex studio partners. I was quite shocked. Paul had always been my wingman. I thought he'd be delighted, but it was clear that he really didn't want to do it. I was quite deflated. Maybe it was Gods way of telling me to let sleeping dogs lie. 

I went home and dug out some old tapes. I made a list of the songs I wanted to record. I then made a cassette of the songs. Included were Not all she seems, Falsedub, It's raining outside, If you really mean it, Come back home, Africa morning, Pauls song and Winter in your heart. I then went back to see Paul. He said, before I even said a word "Look Rog, if you want me to play with you, I am not interested". I said "I've made a tape for you of some of our old numbers". Paul put it on. We had a cup of tea and as we listened, he said "It's better than I remember". I said "look, I don't want to do gigs or anything, it's just I have a recording studio now, so I want to put them down properly, we never really did them justice, I could get someone else, but you were part of these and if there's any way you could do them, then that would be brilliant". Paul said "Look, I'll think about it". I didn't hear anything for two weeks. I decided to go around and see what he thought. We chatted a bit, then I said "Have you thought about it". Paul had come up with a cunning plan to fob me off. He said "Rog, the songs sounded great, I'd love to do it, but I don't have a bass anymore. I am playing lead with The Apostles". Fortunately for me, I had the perfect riposte. I said "That's OK, we've got a music shop and I've just bought a second hand bass in. You can borrow that until the recordings are done". He was lumbered. He said "Look Ok, I'll do it. But no gigs and when the recordings are done, that is it". 

Having got my wingman back, I approached Fil and Tony. I explained that Paul would play bass. I asked Fil to play guitar and sing and Tony to drum. The plan was simple. We'd rehearse the songs a few times until we were competent playing them, record them and then maybe get a guets vocalist to sing them. I gave them a couple of weeks to learn the songs. In late 2000, we started rehearsing. I hadn't played guitar at all for ten years. Not a strum. I was appalled at how bad I was, when I picked up the guitar for a strum through at home. By the time the day came around, I was absolutely panicing. Having spent the best part of a year trying to get it all together, I felt I was the weak link and I felt embarrassed. We turned up and I asked Fil which song he wanted to do. He said Not all she seems. We launched into it and it sounded great. About halfway through the second verse I caught Pauls eye. He smiled and I knew that it was going to be OK. The False Dots were back. We played all of the songs a couple of times. At the end, I was scared to ask Paul. He said "That was great, when do you want to record them?". I said "I think we need a few more rehearsals to get them ship shape. He said "Yeah, I agree". We scheduled a rehearsal for the following week. I went home and by the time we had the next rehearsal, I had two new songs for the band. I said "look, we may as well do an albums worth". Paul looked at me and said "I knew this would happen". He'd done it on the strict condition that we'd record the six songs and that would be that. What a fool I was, we'd only had one rehearsal and here I was taking the mickey. I said "If you don't want to do them, that's fine". Paul said "No, it's cool, I know what you are like Rog".

To be continued..........

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The Barnet Tories - Imploding and scraping the barrel at the same time!

Just when I thought Barnet politics couldn't get anymore depressing, the Barnet Tories prove me well and truly wrong. The Finchley and Golders Green Conservatives have just announced that they've elected disgraced, convicted woman beater Brian Coleman as their deputy chairman.

Coleman was thrown out of the Tories over a decade ago for vicious assault on local cafe owner Helen Michael, on Finchley High Street. Coleman was then a senior member of the Barnet Tory administration. Helen Michael had noticed he was illegally parked and using the ATM and started filming him. Coleman attacked her, injuring her wrist and bruising her breasts. Coleman denied the assault, claiming he was "set up". However, when the CCTV footage was played in court, he was damned both as a thug and a liar. He said at the time "That is not how I remember the events" when confronted with the evidence. He changed his innocent plea to guilty shortly before the start of the trial, in the hope of getting a lighter sentence in the face of incontrovertable evidence. He was convicted of "Assault with beating".  Helen Michael suffered anxiety attacks after the attack and eventually moved he business to Oakleigh Park Station, where she felt more safe and secure. Helen called me immediately after the assault and I was absolutely mortified to see the state she was in. Immediately after the assault, Coleman drove to Barnet Police station and claimed she had assaulted him. Luckily there was a CCTV camera that exposed his lies. This is all a matter of public record.

The CCTV footage is here. Is this really a man who demostrates the standards we want to see in public life?

Of course, it is up to the Barnet Tories to elect who they like as their deputy chair, but for the rest of us, seeing a man who is happy to assault women in the street and then lie about it, to try and get himself off the hook, being afforded a senior role in a local political party is sickening.

I have no idea whether it is connected with Colemans elevation, but yesterday, Coleman posted the following tweet.

It seems the former leader of the Barnet Tories and council leader between 2018 and 2022 has defected to Reform. Councillor Dan Thomas sits for the Tories in Church End. There was no love lost between Coleman and Thomas. After Coleman was convicted of assaulting Helen Michael, Thomas privately phoned me to express his utter disgust with Coleman and to assure me that Coleman was finished in the Barnet Tories. He revealed that he'd actually made a complaint to Barnet Council's standards body about Colemans behaviour. Myself and Dan Thomas were not on good terms and I was quite surprised to receive a call, but it became clear to me that he was actually pleased that the Tories had an excucse to boot Coleman out. 

There are a new generation of Tory Councillors and other wannabees, who probably don't know the full story about Brian Coleman. They are probably unaware of the scale of the assault. He has probably told them that she was a lefty agitator. She is not. She was a staunch Conservative until Brian Coleman's tenure as Borough Parking Officer. Coleman abolished pay and display completely. This lead to a huge drop in takings for many local high street businesses (and was reversed once Coleman was booted out). After Coleman was booted out, Helen returned to the Tory fold and was a keen advocate for Boris Johnson. If you check out Helen's twitter, you will see that she is anything but a lefty!

The Barnet Tories have now lost their former leader Dan Thomas and former Mayor Mark Shooter to Reform. It is pretty clear that the party is imploding. I cannot see how scraping the barrel and bringing convicted felons in to run the party will help this. But hey ho, what do I know. When Coleman stepped away from public life, this blog forgot about him. He's back and his actions will be under intense scrutiny and we will use our platform (which is massive) to ensure that the people of Barnet know what the Tories think is acceptable. 

I suppose I should say a few words about Dan Thomas. Firstly here is what his colleague Mark Shooter, a fellow Barnet Tory defector to reform said......

Cllr Mark Shooter, Reform UK Barnet Chairman, said:
I am delighted to welcome Cllr Dan Thomas into the newly formed Reform UK Barnet Group. Dan brings with him over 20 years of experience in local government and previously served as Leader of Barnet Council, giving him a wealth… pic.twitter.com/6JyYpi09lD

— REFORM UK (BARNET) (@ReformUKBarnet) June 30, 2025

Dan Thomas organised a palace coup in the Barnet Tories shortly after former leader Richard Cornelius won a stunning victory in the 2018 council elections. Barnet had been tipped by all to swing to Labour, but the Tories made huge gains and had one of the largest Tory majorities ever. The thanks Richard, who was a very decent man, got from Dan Thomas was a knife in the back. Thomas came in with a plan. He wanted to make Barnet the place where big property developments happen. In 2020, he launched huge plans for redevelopments in various areas. His pet project was the Edgware Redevelopment, which was enable by the SPD passed under his regime in 2021, which gave Ballymore the green light for the current plans. Thomas was politically inept. To ensure his coup worked. he ousted long time, hard working councillors such as Joan Scannell in Edgware and replaced them with development friendly lackies. The inevitable happened. In 2022, Labour swept the board. Thomas stepped down and has moved to the West Country, still claiming his juicy councillor allowance. 

Mark Shooter may well welcome Dan Thomas into Reform. All I can really say is that I hope Thomas does for Reform's electoral prospects, what he did for The Barnet Tories. If he gets in anywhere, they can expect monster developments to start appearing. I am sure that there are plenty of nice leafy streets in the west country that will benefit from 32 storey skyscrapers!