Rog T Food blog - In praise of Rabbi Blue, his recipies and his approach to life

Why did I start this food feature? Let me tell you a little story. Back in January 1987, my Dad passed away suddenly. The family was in bits. My Mum was devastated. They had been married for 43 years and it had never really occurred to my mother that she'd be alone. Years later she told me she'd believed they'd both die in a horrific car crash, as the result of my Dad's maniacally reckless driving. Neither did. 

Later that year, I bought the family home from my mum. She had a small flat up the road. In 1989, she was still in a very depressed and down state. The Easter weather looked fine. I decided to do something to try and 'snap her out of it'. She had chronic back problems caused by osteoperosis and was in constant pain. She was angry with me for all sorts of reasons, none of which I thought were particularly rational. I'd nip in to see her and have a Guinness and it would always end up in an massive argument. I now see that we were quite similar and not particularly good at conceding ground in arguments. But I realised that something had to change. So I came up with a cunning plan. Have an Easter barbeque in the garden and ask all of the family. I told Mum and she was not impressed "I don't like barbeques". I said "Well come down and just have a Guinness, all of the family are coming". She said "I'll see how I feel". I took this to be a no. My plan was to despatch my sisters on the day and drag her down. The next time I saw her, she said "Who is coming to the barbeque?". I told her I'd just asked family, brothers, sisters and their kids, and they'd all said they were coming, even my sister Val, who lived in Florida. She snarled, well I suppose I'll have to make an appearance. For the next week, she didn;t mention it. The Thursday, two days before, to my surprise, she said "I am looking forward to the barbeque, what shall I bring?". I was gobsmacked. I said "Surprise me, bring something nice". She said "What about a salad?". I said "A salad would be lovely". 

On the appointed day, she appeared, proudly clutching a bean salad. I've never eaten anything, before or since with so much garlic. To my amazement, she was on sparkling form, was the last to go, scoffing down sausages and burgers and getting rather bladdered. Everyone complimented her on her bean salad, which we all agreed was the highlight. After that, she made a bean salad for every barbeque. It made me realise the power of communal eating. It is no coincidence that the central point of christian worship, is a ceremonial meal of bread and wine. Sharing a meal is a great way to build bridges. 

Mum passed away in 2008. About six months ago, I was discussing Mum's bean salad with my sister Caroline. She said "Oh, you mean Rabbi Blue's bean salad. Mum got the recipe from The Universe". For those of you who don't know it, the Universe is a Roman Catholic weekly publication. I've never read it. I always assumed it was full of ecclesiastical appointments and nuns visiting the Pope. Not the sort of stuff that interests me. I was surprised it had a cooking column. I assumed that they simply syndicated a column to fill space, as a sop to all of the old Irish ladies who read it out of religious duty. But I wanted to get hold of the recipe for Mums bean salad, so I googled Rabbi Blue.

I found one of his cookery books on Amazon and bought it. Ironically, it didn't have the recipe in it. In the forward, I was shocked to read this line after his lsy of thanks "I have to put my friend Rowanne at the head of the list because it was she who 'discovered' me. When Rowanne came to The Universe she asked me to fill in for the family page for a couple of weeks. Well I've been filling in for years now."

I started reading the book. It is a recipe book with a difference. Every recipe has a story and a little bit of a reflection that, if you bother to read it, will impart a deeper wisdom. As I found with the barbeque, food brings us together.  In one chapter, Rabbi Blue asks "How do you learn to love? You can't take an evening course in lovong or get a BSc in tolerance. It is something which has to grow in you like a seed and tact is a good way to begin." This is part of the pre-amble to a recipe for vegetarian Yorkshire pudding! 

Some thoughts from Rabbi Blue

Rabbi Blue passed away years ago. Had it not been for that chance conversation, I wouldn't have even known of him. His book is brilliant and I am already starting to use and adapt some of his recipes and ideas. Reading his book has solidified a feeling that I've had for a long time that most cookery programmes fail to miss the central point of food. Up until my generation was born, food was something that families shared. The dining table was a place where we got together, ate, drank and shared our lives. Now we get a plate of slop and sit in front of the telly, too distracted to enjoy the flavours and the tastes or even to listen to those with us. It is no surprise that so many of us have mental health issues. Rabbi Blue, in a quiet, gentle way showed us the path. It may seem odd that a Rabbi was the star cookery writer of a Roman Catholic publication. In truth, it shows a deeper more important truth. Food is something that can bring us together. When I used to volunteer at The Passage day centre for homeless people, I'd often share a cup of tea and a chat with one of the clients, often over a bacon sandwich, in our short break. When you share a meal and a conversation with someone, you develop a bond, often only for that short moment, but you are both doing something essential to the human existence. 

I do not believe we can medicate ourselves out of the mental health crisis that faces us. I do not believe that we can fix it through therapy. I believe that the seeds of the answer is to communicate with each other and this is best done over a shared meal. I bought Rabbi Blue's book to find out how to make a bean salad. I didn't find that, but I think I may well have stumbled on a deeper truth. And the good news is that delicious food is at the heart of it. It reminds me that we are long overdue a family barbeque as well. If you have Rabbi Blue's recipe for Bean Salad, please let me know!

"If you don't like pickled onions, you have not been brought up properly" - The truth about Donald Trump

 What is the difference between opinions and facts? My mate's Dad used to say "If you don't like pickled onions, you have not been brought up properly". For years, I believed that this was the absolute truth. If someone didn't like pickled onions, then I simply thought "the poor soul has not been brought up properly".  I was disabused of this, when I started going out with a certain ex girlfriend. She hated pickled onions, but she clearly had been brought up properly. I realised that this was an opinion. I had believed it to be a fact, because I had implicitly trusted my mates Dad. By the time I was 21, I realised that he was more often than not wrong about everything. He shared such information as "Marc Bolan has fleas", "the Archbishop of Canturbury is going to hell because he is not a Roman Catholic" and some other things that were too racist to evn mention in 2025. All he held to be absolute facts. As I was a child and knew no better, I was impressed by this man, because unlike many adults, he was more than happy to share his opinions with us, rather than telling us to play in the other room and not disturb him.

The more I see of Donald Trump, the more I am reminded of him. I listen to Donald Trump speak and his manner is in many ways similar. He speaks as if he is writing the Gospel and his 'wisdom' is handed straight to him from God. In the 1960's and early 1970's, people like me, who were having a Catholic upbringing were taught absolutes. We were taught that subjects such as contraception and abortion were not up for discussion, because the Pope had decreed they were wrong and the Pope is infallible. The problem with claiming infallability is like people who deny the existence of aliens, you only have to be wrong once and you are wrong. When I read about the position of the Catholic Church in relation to Galileo, I realised that the church was being silly claiming the Pope was infallible. 

Which brings us to the claims of Donald Trump, such as that he's personally stopped seven wars. These things are things that it is easy to verify. Trump hasn't. Now it may well be that Trump has spoken to leaders in countries where there are tensions and border disputes. It may well even be that the leaders of the countries, on hearing Trumps claims, have gone along with his idiocy, to curry favour with a man who can wreak huge damage on their economy on a whim. But it doesn't make it right. Until I met my ex girlfriend, who was well brought up and disliked pickled onions, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable 'fact', but once I realised it was complete nonsense, the scales fell from my eyes and I started to assume that everything else he ever told us was just his opinion, and more often than not, it was ignorant and ill informed. As he was a mates Dad, I had believed that he was deserving of respect. I liked pickled onions and I liked to think I was well brought up and I was taught to respect my "elders and betters". Then I realised that racist, sexist, misogynists are not my betters. They are blinkered fools. 

Which brings us back to Donald Trump. When I watched him berating the United Nations, I couldn't help thinking this is a man who's dating advice was "grab them by the pussy". This is a man who said John McCain wasn't much of a war hero, as proper war hero's don't get captured. Here is a man who has a string of convictions for crimes which in normal times would see him become a pariah. Here is a man who has countless pictures with a former friend who was a sex trafficker and a paedophile. Here is a man who has had multiple businesses go bankrupt, which means that he's left people who trusted him out of pocket.

It is my opinion that Donald Trump is not fit to be President of the United States of America. It is just an opinion, but is based upon the facts I stated in the last paragraph. All of which are verifyable. Whether or not you like pickled onions, facts are facts. 

The Sunday Reflection #62 - The more stones you lift, the more snakes you find

 Life often deals us a curveball. We see life in the context of our own experiences. Sometimes things seem inexplicable, cruel, just strange, only for it to all become clear years later. Let me give you a random example. When I was just a wee nipper, all of my mates joined a local youth organisation. With this, they did all manner of exciting activities. They even went away camping. I desperately wanted to join, but my Dad said no and made it clear it wasn't up for discussion. With my Dad, the one thing I learned was no was no. Decades later, long after Dad had passed, the leader of the group was arrested. It came out that he'd been up to all sorts of despicable things. I never got the chance to ask Dad if he had an inkling of what was going on or a it was a more general distrust of such group. I suspect my Dad just had a general dislike of the leader of the group. He often took seemingly irrational dislikes to people, who invariably turn out to be wrong uns. 

Dad had several tests of a mans character. He never trusted anyone who didn't drink too much on occasion. He always reckoned they had something to hide. He never trusted anyone who spoke ill of their wife. He figured that if your wife wasn't your best friend, then you were an idiot and if you did speak ill of your best friend, you were a fool and you shouldn't go around slagging her off to the world. He disliked people who didn't stand their round in the pub, people who sat on committees, spouted opinions on everything but were always busy when their was work to be done. I recall on one occasion, a member of one charity committee Dad was on made a disparaging comment about my aunties husband, who was also on the committee, but didn't have a fancy job. Dad said "Well at least he gets off his backside and actually does some work, rather than just telling the rest of us what we are doing wrong". Dad found the indignation of the said chap hilarious. Dad recounted the story. After he said it, he added "I can't stand these pompous types, you can just imagine how they treat the people who work for them". Explained that such people were highly untrustworthy, as they thought they were better than everyone else and so felt a God given right to take liberties with people.

I have always born these tests in mind when dealing with people. What I didn't realise at the time, was that my Father was as much telling me the sort of behaviours I should not exhibit, as telling me how to be cautious with other people. If I am in a large round and we all go home before it gets to me, I feel guilty. If I get cross with the guys who work for me and express my displeasure, I feel bad. But I see other people doing these things and thinking they are clever and it really puts me off them. My wife is far less judging of people and often castigates me for not liking people for what she considers the most trivial of reasons (not buying their round being the main one). When I am proven right, as almost invariably happens with such shady characters, she will inform me that she never liked them either. 

Sadly though, some people pass all the tests and still turn out to be snakes. I have concluded that they are crafty enough to have figured out how to beat the snake test. There is one character who was a friend for many years, only to show his true character in the most upsetting of fashion. The most horrifying thing was that the signs were there all along and I'd just missed them. The one that is easiest to miss is the way that people treat the people that they don't have to treat nicely, such as employees, waiters, etc. 

Another thing Dad said to me is that "the more stones you lift, the more snakes you find". Dodgy characters lurk everywhere. The worst people are those that glory in having power over other people and use the opportunity to make the people who rely on them miserable. Why am I writing this blog today? Well actually there is a good reason. Today is the first day of the first Labour party conference since they won power last year. We look at the party leaders. Labour - Sir Keir Starmer. Conservatives - Kemi Badenoch, Lib  Dems - Sir Ed Davey and Reform Nigel Farage. Would you trust any of them? What do you think they would be like as your boss? Do you think they'd stand their round in the pub? How do they treat and do they respect their wives/husbands/partners. Do they actually get stuck in and do work, or do they just spout opinions? 

Here are a few facts about each. Draw your own conclusions.

Sir Keir Starmer worked as a lawyer. He is married.  He supports Arsenal. He's a pescitarian, who doesn't eat meat. In the 1980's he edited a Trotskyite magazine called Socialist Alternatives and he ownes a cat. 

Kemi Badenoch, worked in Software for Logica and RBS before becoming involved in politics (I used to work for SPL who viewed Logica as the opposition, so I have an irrational dislike of her). I couldn't find out a football team who she supports. She was born in Wimbledon of Nigerian heritage, but has given up her Nigerian passport and claims she no longer identifies as Nigerian. Wikipedia claims she doesn't like people from the North of Nigeria. She is married. 

Sir Ed Davey. Supports Notts County. Worked as an anylist and researcher before becoming an MP, married to his wife since 2005, has two kids, one of whom who is severely disabled and who Davey acts as a carer for. 

Nigel Farage has been married twice, once to an Irishwoman and once to a German. He worked as a commodities trader, and 

Farage eas a commodities trader, a former Tory member as well as a Green voter. likes cricket and supports Crystal Palace. He claims to be both a Christian and a lapsed member of the Church of England. He claims to be a big beer fan, but I once saw him dining at the Rising Sun pub in Mill Hill and he seemed keener on expensive red wines from what I saw. He also, if my eyes were not deceiving me, did not pay the bill. Having said that, we've all had mates buy us expensive dinners haven't we?

In my life I've worked in music, IT and also been active in politics locally. The most alarming thing I've learned is that politics is full of snakes. A PhD in backstabbing and shafting your mates seems to be a pre-requistite. If I was choosing a politician based on character, I'd choose Ed Davey. If I was choosing a politician to lead the country and do trade deals with the likes of Donald Trump, or negotiate peace deals with the likes of Putin, etc, I'd choose Sir Keir Starmer every day. His former job as a lawyer, involved dealing with criminals, shady characters, murderers and not getting too upset about their behaviour. The world is full of snakes. If I want to get to heaven, I ask the vicar what to do. If I find an adder in the garden I ask a snake specialist what to do. Of the four, Starmer seems to me to be the only one who is a career snake charmer. 

I actually have a theory about Nigel Farage. I think he is an establishment stooge, who's job was to shaft the far right. His brief is to spout the most ridiculous rubbish to attract the most fringe members of the right to him, so that when his career crashes and burns, which will inevitably happen before the next election, he will take down the dreams of his supporters with them. The more I see of Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (AKA Tommy Robinson), the more I think he is another one. Never underestimate the ability of the British Establishment to some up with cunning plans to maintain its supremecy. 

The phrase "Perfidious Albion" originates from a 1793 poem by the French playwright Augustin Louis de Ximénès, who used the term "la perfide Albion" to describe Britain as treacherous and untrustworthy. "Albion" is an ancient name for the British Isles, and the term "perfidious" means deceitful or disloyal. The phrase became popular in the late 18th and early 19th centuries to criticize British diplomacy and international dealings, which were often seen as self-serving and a betrayal of agreements. A quick Google search will give you a whole list of fine examples. 

Mind you, however bad we are, we haven't found ourselves a Donald Trump (yeT)

The Saturday List #499 - My ten core beliefs as a human being

 The next episode in this feature will be list #500. It has taken nearly fourteen years to compile. At this rate, should I make it to episode 1,000, I will be 77 years old in 2039. A daunting thought, if ever there was one!

Next week, the list will be all 500 episodes listed with the odd sardonic comment. But this week, I thought I'd post a list of the principles by which I live my life. Until I was around 50 years old, I had no real core beliefs or principles. I was not a bad person, but I just drifted. I would see things that were wrong and react, this blog started as a reaction to bad things. I did not however, have a philosphy or set of values which I felt I had to conform to. When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2011, I did a stocktake of my life and I realised that although I was doing a lot, there was no focus or purpose to much of it. It was just existing for the sake of existing. There is nothing at all wrong with that, but I realised that there are things I do want to do and if I was to do them, I had to have goals, values aims and a purpose in life. I spent an indecently long period of time mulling over this. Eventually I realised that I was on a journey. I had boarded the train, but not bothered to ask where it was going. I was just sitting there looking out of the window, enjying the ride.

If I ever wanted to reach the places I wanted to get to I had to know what I wanted when I got there. The trouble was, I didn't really know what I wanted in life. I had labelled myself as many things. We all do. Some of these things, I was happy with. Some less so. So I thought "If I want to find out where I want to go in life, I need to start by defining my ten core beliefs" and then frame my plan around them. If I had a plan and things I wanted to do, I had to be happy in how I got there. So here are my ten core beliefs.

1. God made the universe because being lonely is the very worst thing imaginable, whatever you are. The cruellest thing anyone can do, be it a government, a carer, a family member, is to isolate people and force them to be lonely and cut off from love. 

2. No possessession is worth hurting someone to acquire. Probably 95% of the woes of the world are caused by people getting just a little greedy and breaking this rule. We all sometimes want stuff we can't afford, land we are not entitled to, partners who are not available to us and plaudits we haven't earned. When we start hurting other people get it, we become the problem

3. All life is sacred and we should treat it as such. As individuals, we need to survive, which requires food, but we should never cause unneccessary pain and hurt to anything in the process of filling our bellies. I didn't eat meat for fourteen years, but I came to realise that it is perfectly natural for humans to eat meat and for some of us very beneficial to our health. We can however make the choice to avoid foods that are produced in a cruel manner. That, to me is the right thing to do. If you eat meat, but struggle with your conscience about it, eat less meat and when you do, eat good meat that is humanely produced. Generally it is higher quality and tastes better. Of all the points on the list, this is perhaps the one which has caused me most angst. 

4. I only know what is going through my own mind, I have not lived your experience, so I have no idea why you have made the choices you have made, whether I agree with them or not. I do not have your perspective, and I have no right to judge you. However I do have the right, if necessary to defend myself and the people I love if you pose a threat to any of us. I will always try and choose a non violent route, but when this is not possible I will do what I have to do. 

5. As a musician, my role on planet earth is to try and make people's life just a little bit better and make them just a little bit happier, if only for a short time. When people see my band I want them to leave feeling better and happier than when the arrived. It is a little known fact that when you sing, you acquire more oxygen in your lungs than you would normally have and this gives you a feeling of mild euphoria, which is why we try and get the audience to join in (if ever you see a band, give yourself permission to have fun). Aside from my family and personal life, I realised that this was where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do with my life. I am enjoying my music more than ever at the moment. Life has taught me that the wind can change direction very suddenly, but as a musician and as a band, the wind is in our sails and I am loving it. 

6. God put the people in my life I need at the time I need them. Some are only in my life for far too short a time, so I try and appreciate them and make time for them.

7. Some people are evil and wish you ill intent. Sometimes you don't recognise this until it is too late. Always watch how people treat other people. If they are rude or aggressive towards people who are not in a position to respond in kind, they are probably not good people to be around. That is usually the first warning sign. 

8. Winter follows summer, summer follows winter. Enjoy the Sun when it shines, play in the snow when it snows. When it rains and the wind blows, always remind yourself that this, like everything else will pass. 

9. You will lose people you love in life and the hurt will be too much at times. Just tell yourself that the reason it hurts so much, is because you were lucky to have their friendship and love. They would not want tou to mourn, they would want you to celebrate the good times. 

10. None of us can see the future and none of us can change the past. Whether we believe in God or not, whether we are evil or virtuous, we will all end up the same way. Whatever contributions we make are transient. Even the pyramids will disappear in the blink of an eyelid in the grander timescale of the universe. The universe is 14 billion years old. Civilisation is around 4-5,000 years old. Only our generation has had the ability to see friends on the other side of the world on our phones and chat to them. How amazing is that. Appreciate the fact that we live in a time where we can do such things, where we don't have to worry about smallpox, where every day new treatments for diseases emerge and new technology that makes life easier is developed. Be grateful and celebrate this and next time you are moaning because you can't get a phone signal, just remember,that wasn't even an option for every other generation of humanity. We are lucky. It's just a shame that we find it so hard to realise it and share the spoils of it with our brothers and sisters  in the world who are less well off. We are where we are on the timeline of the Universe and we are the luckiest generation, unless we are stupid enough to spoil it!

I will share a little secret with you. When I first wrote this blog, I only included the first sentence of points 1-10. I then thought about point four and realised that as you haven't got a clue what is going through my head, it will probably seem meaningless. I thought this illustrates the point quite well. Here is the raw list

1. God made the universe because being lonely is the very worst thing imaginable, whatever you are. 

2. No possessession is worth hurting someone to acquire.

3. All life is sacred and we should treat it as such.

4. I only know what is going through my own mind.

5. As a musician, my role on planet earth is to try and make people's life just a little bit better.  

6. God put the people in my life I need at the time I need them. 

7. Some people are evil and wish you ill intent. 

8. Winter follows summer, summer follows winter. 

9. You will lose people you love in life and the hurt will be too much at times. 

10. None of us can see the future and none of us can change the past. 

The Ten Commandments, it ain't, but it serves me well. And as per point five, I will leave you with a tune from The False Dots  to put a smile on your face. There is an old saying "eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die". 

Friday Fun and Barnet Gig guide

In future, we will be starting this feature with the Local gig guide, provided by Mill Hill Music Complex. A full list of local gigs can also be found at the Barnet Music facebook page. 

See below for the Friday Fun.

 

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And on to the Friday Fun. In the longstanding tradition of the Barnet Bloggers, here is the Friday joke!

I said to my hairdresser;
"Make me look sexy."

She started drinking.

— Robert Wilkinson (@robertwlk) September 25, 2025

An absolute banger today from our old mate Robert Wilkinson!

 

Rock and Roll Stories #46 - On my Radio - the path to success?

Radio is how many of us first hear music. When I was a small child, my elder sisters listened to the Pirate stations, which broadcast Pop music that the BBC wouldn't play, from boats and rigs on the North Sea. I can remember the jingles. I can remember the final broadcast of the Pirate Station Radio London. It was in April 1967 and I would have been four. It was closed down by Harold Wilson's Labour government. He got the BBC to set up Radio 1 in response. My sisters view was that it was not a patch on the Pirates. I next became interested in Radio in 1974/5. Kenny Everett was what one may called a Madcap DJ and presented the morning show. In truth, I wasn't interested in the music he played. I just loved the anarchic lunacy. Everett was  my radio hero. In June 1977, I discovered punk rock. Two things happened. The first was I discovered the John Peel show on Radio one. Peel played punk rock, with almost no filter. I loved Peel. Most of the bands I now love, I first heard on his show. The second was that Kenny Everett said he was going to play some punk rock. He played "Oh Bondage Up Yours" by X-Ray Spex. I was delighted. It was proof that he was a kindred spirit. After around 30 seconds, he stopped the record and said it was rubbish. That was the end of my admiration for Everett. He was a charlatan in my view. On his TV show, he had a character called 'Sid Snot', supposedly a punk. It was a poor, stereotype and it confirmed my view that Everett was not what I thought. When he came out as a Margaret Thatcher supporting Tory, I felt completely vindicated.

I have come to realise that there were two types of radio DJ. There are the loud mouthed show offs, who enjoy saying "look at me", and there are the ones who love music, genuinely want to see new artists develop and care about their audience and the artists they put before them. As Kenny Everett proved beyond doubt, the look at me DJ's can be highly entertaining and a good listen, but it is the ones such as John Peel, Robert Elms and Gary Crowley who actually leave a legacy, in the artists they put before us. I genuinely don't think the bosses at the BBC, who hire and fire DJ's and set the show briefs understand this. As I result, I think they are managing themselves out of existence. The BBC only exists to enhance the cultural life of the UK. When it fails to do that, it has no purpose at all. 

 Like every band in the UK, I wanted The False Dots music played on the John Peel show. I sent cassettes of all our early demos. I never got an acknowledgement or reply. I am sure he got thousands and never held it against him. By about 1980, I'd lost interest in his show. He'd moved on from Punk. There were other shows playing interesting music. Dave Rodigan playing Reggae and Charlie Gillet playing what he felt like on Capital. Sadly, no one seemed to be playing the sort of music The False Dots were making when we were at our best in our first incarnation (1983-84). 

By the 1990's, Indie had come along and The False Dots had gone into a ten year hibernation. I started managing a band called The Sway. There was a new radio station in London called GLR and it had a great DJ called Gary Crowley, who played indie bands who were unknown. Gary played both of The Sway's first two singles and was complimentary. He helped break bands such as Suede, Oasis and Blur. He's still on Radio London and always worth a listen. IMHO he is criminally underused and should have a nightly evening show. The Sway split up after two singles. Robert Elms started presenting a show, also on BBC Radio London. As he went to the same school as me, Orange Hill, I made a point of listening. especially when he started playing one of my studio customers, Amy Winehouse. Elms had a show Monday to Friday and would have regular guests in the studio doing sessions. As well as Amy, he had established artists I loved, such as Richie Havens and Dr John. For reasons I will never fathom,  after Covid, BBC bosses decided to cut down his hours, which left little time for new music. 

For me, this is a tragic dereliction of duty. The BBC is a publicly funded corporation, they should support London arts. I don't think I've listened to Radio one since Peel left. I am not in their demographic, so they don't care. As someone who runs a studio where up and coming artists build their careers, it is devastating to hear the way great musicians are ignored. The BBC has a service called 'BBC Introducing', where you can upload music and it might, if you are lucky, get a play on a graveyard shift show. It almost never gets played on daytime radio (Robert Elms does a slot on his show). It breaks my heart, as radio is probably the best way to get your music known. It used to be that the BBC had dozens of shows on local radio playing new music. The shows producers had free reign. Budget cuts have put paid to this (The Sway were BBC West Midlands artist of the week and did a session at Pebble Mill studios back in the 1990's). 

Over the last couple of years, I've become more aware of a new, less regimented outlet for recording artists, who are not getting played. I am talking about online radio stations. These are run for the love of music, by people who feel specific genre's and subgenres of music are neglected. If you like a specific musical genre, you will find that there are plenty of online stations playing it. They may not have the pull of the BBC, but their listeners sit in the demographic of the music they play, so it is a great way to connect with real people who like the music artists produce. 

Next Monday, I will be on RockRadioUK with my mate Griff Griffiths. He does a drivetime show and we will be doing a regular feature, where we play new music by London bands. To start the series, I have selected ten tracks from various artists who have a strong association with Mill Hill Music Complex and talked about the history of the studio. It has long been a bugbear of mine that the 'mainstream radio stations' do nothing to support up and coming artists. Having tried my hardest to push for some sort of support, I decided to take a different path and I now believe the future for up and coming artists to get a foot on the ladder is through online, niche radio stations. They have nowhere near the reach of the BBC or the big commercial stations, but they are amenable to up and coming artists and IMHO much of their content is far more interesting than most of what the mainstream stations are playing. As Griff says, he plays what he wants!

So make sure you listen on Monday, by clicking the link above. The show is on between 5pm and 7pm. 

I was on his show back in August and we had a blast! If you can't wait, have a listen!

Nigel Farage declares war on my band, The False Dots

 I literally couldn't believe what I was listening to when I watched the news last night. Nigel Farage has declared war on LEGAL migrants. He clearly stated that it his intention to revoke the right to remain for non UK citizens. On top of that, non UK citizens will not be able to claim benefits. Now, I guess that if you don't like foreigners, that is a wonderful policy. But the effects of this will be catastrophic for millions of people in the UK. Lets get this right, people who came here perfectly legally, worked for years, or decades and have paid taxes are at risk of being kicked out. I know dozens of people who this may affect. People who have a right to remain but are not British citizens. All contribute huge amounts to the UK economy. But there is one person particularly, who it concerns me. That person is the bassplayer in my band, he has been in the band since 1998. Not only that, he has worked for me at the studio for 30 years. I know he pays taxes, because I do the payroll. He has three children, all born in the UK. He came over when the UK was part of the EU and got a right to remain after Brexit.

Under Farage's rules, if he got ill and incapacitated, he'd get no benefits, despiter over three decades of contributions to the system. As a percentage of his income, I suspect he's actually paid more tax than Farage has. I suspect he's also contributed more to the UK economy than Farage, who was the architect of Brexit, which has cost the UK billions (even Brexit supporting James Dyson has admitted that). 

Joseph Stalin once said "If you kill one person it is a tragedy, if you kill a million, its a statistic". Farage is clearly interested in making headlines with statistics. He is not in the least bit interested in the tragedies he will cause. For my band, our bassplayer is irreplaceable. For me, he is a friend. For my business, he is a key member of staff. If he is kicked out, what his son will be uprooted from the life he was born into. If he gets ill and needs to claim benefits, he will get nothing in return for the tax he's paid. Most people I know are not concerned about people who have spent decades obeying the law, living legally, working and paying taxes.

With his statement, Nigel Farage has caused everyone affected stress and upset. For me personally, he has declared war on my band. I am not the only musician in this position. Us creative types collaborate with people with diverse influences.  I am simply not prepared to let a two bit fascist like Farage give my friends, my band and the economy of our nation a beating without fighting back. Farage has drawn a line and millions of decent, law abiding citiziens, who pay taxes and contribute are on the wrong side of it. I am still fully processing my response to Farage. Should I write a song, make a band video, or something else? I honestly don't know. What I do know is that now is the time for Rock Against Racism to be revived.

Here is a clip of our band in action. This is what Nigel Farage wants to destroy

What lunatic decided that boozing and smoking in the office was a bad thing!

 My first proper job? I started back in 1983, working for one of the UK's leading software companies. They were called SPL International. The supplied all manner of computer software for the worlds top blue chip companies. The client list includied, the Swiss Bank Corporation, Nedlloyd shipping, Svenska Handlesbanken, Pan Am, Saudi Arabian Airways, The National Commercial Bank of Jeddah and Barclays, to name a few. All of the systems ran on Tandem Computers, who were at the time the leading edge of computer technology, Tandem were a start up firm from Cupertino in California, before being a an IT start up was fashionable. 

How did I end up working for SPL? I left school in 1981 and had spent two years trying to make a living in music, working as a building labourer and painter and decorator to top up my earnings. By Easter 1983, I was in debt and had a girlfriend I wanted to move in with. I needed a proper job, until the band got a deal and we became millionaires (I am still waiting). So I signed up for the government TOPS scheme and did a ten week computer operators course. They then tried to fix me up with a job. I was interviewed by a lovely chap at SPL called Peter Sutherby, who looked and sounded like King George V. I was convinced that I'd blown the interview. I spent 40 minutes talking to him about travelling and 0 minutes talking about my aptitude with computers (probably just as well). To my astonishment, Peter offered me a job, so at the start of October 1983, I walked into SPL International and was sat at a desk with three colleagues called Nick, Kevin and Chris. All three wore glasses and had degrees. My role was to "look after the in house Tandem computer". They were all programmers. At lunchtime, they all announced that they were going for a beer and a curry and asked me if I'd like to join them. I returned, with them at 4pm. We'd sunk two beer with the curry, then gone to the pub for three more. We returned for an hour, then went back to the pub. When I eventually met my girlfriend, at around 9pm, I was a bit worse for wear. She was not happy. 

Like most of the staff in the office, Kevin would smoke at his desk. Nick didn't. As for Chris, he disappeared to Switzerland to do a job the day after and I didn't see him for six months. Our phone extension was no 233. I soon realised that as well as "looking after the Tandem", my job was doing whatever task Peter, the boss, wanted. This included loading in computer paper, feeding the company parrot, getting booze from the wine shop and running dodgy errands. One of  these, to his, and the firms delight, I was that I was able to assist in repatriating funds paid in Naira in Nigeria, from a project with BP, to the UK. I knew a coffee dealer, who could facilitate such things, for a fee. 

The ultimate boss had a company Rolls Royce. It had the reg plate SPL 99. The office, on Windmill St, had a garage in the basement and the Rolls was kept there. After I'd been at the firm three months, my boss entrusted me with the keys to the office. I often had to do work at weekends. My then girlfirend, informed me that one of her fantasies was to make love on the back seat of a Rolls Roycewhen I told her about it. A week later, we'd been at a gig in Town and I suggested we made a detour via the office, as I had the keys to both the Office and the Rolls. When you are young, such things seem a good idea. As we snuck in, I heard noises in the room where we had our desks. A light was on. I thought I'd better check what was going on. Another of the Bosses, a chap called Larry, who had a more than passing resemblance to Polish Union Leader Lech Walensa, was sharing a bottle of whisky with another colleague who was in floods of tears. Both were smoking like chimneys. It was around 11.45pm. Larry invited myself and my girlfriend to join them. It turned out that they'd been in the pub and my colleague had told Larry about the break up of his relationship. He was almost suicidal with grief.  Larry had taken him back to the office for some private personal advice. Larry suggested that my girfriend could also offer some advice. We sat around boozing until 4am, when Larry ordered us a  cab home on the firm. He never asked why we were in the office.

A couple of weeks later, the distraught colleague had a new girlfriend and thanked me for my girlfriends advice, which was to get a new girlfriend and not to be sad. She said "You've got a good job and you are not ugly, most girls would love a bloke like you". Larry always kept a drinks cabinet that was well stocked with various spirits, for just such occasions. To me, he was the perfect boss. He actually cared and was happy to misuse company resources if staff were having a bad time. In return, we were fiercely loyal. Boozing was a massive part of the culture. Tandem Computers also had a boozing culture. They had a tradition that on a Friday afternoon, they'd have a 'beer bust' in all of their offices. Basically the company had a fridge full of beer and staff could help themselves. It set Tandem apart from other, more stuffy companies. Staff from customers were often invited. I knew most of their engineers and spent many a happy Friday boozing at their Buckingham Gate office.

The UK software industry was awash with smoking and drinking in the 1980's. It was also massively innovative and staff were happy. We sometimes worked ridiculously long hours to get projects in, but no one ever seemed to suffer from stress. I am still sort of keep in contact with the guys I shared a desk with. Kevin lives in the states now, so its just an Xmas card. It turned out that Nick, like me loved comics and the Monochrome Set, and we occasionally ping each other. I used to see Chris on the train back from the CIty for many years. We spent far too many hours in the pub together. It turned out Larry was a jazz drummer and I still occasionally see him at Jazz gigs in Watford. As for Peter, he passed away many years ago. His son got in touch after he died, to let me know. To my amazement, he told me that his Dad really admired me.

When I joined, Peter said that I'd probably stay with the firm two years, I should work hard and learn to programme computers and the get a job as an IT contractor. When another firm calle Systems Designers bought SPL, Peter was 'let go'. His replacement was one of those bland sort of people who now run the industry, with no sense of humour and no personality. I hadn't realised how lucky I was. Peter had given me a company credit card. That was rescinded the day he left. Six months later, I was informed I was being 'managed out' as I didn't have a degree. I got a job earning three times more and never looked back. It was for BT. There was no drinking culture and the bosses did not have anything to do with staff. It was horrible but well paid. 

I look back on that evening when Larry invited us to join him and support our colleage, with Scotch and ciggies in the office. I suspect that Larry had an inkling of my plan, but the upshot was that we managed to pull a colleague out of a very dark place indeed. I often wonder what lunatic decided that boozing and smoking in the office was a bad thing. Whether or not it means anyone actually lives longer I don't know, but I do know that it certainly seems like it and life is not so much fun!

The Sunday Reflection #61 - Whilst the Sun is shining, enjoy it

 I awoke this morning at 7.44am. I don't think I've ever felt as old and knackered. All I really wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep for another couple of hours. At the age of 63 I am starting to feel my age, esepcially when I have to do physically exerting tasks. Yesterday, I had a PA system to break down and unload in Cricklewood and bring back to the studio and I had to do this without assistance. Some of the speakers are pretty heavy and had to be lugged from the staging area to the car park. Years of football have taken their toll on my knees and ankles and this morning I could really feel it. I love my job, running a business, etc. However sometimes reality forces you to admit that maybe you need a little help. Ten years ago, the lugging would not have really been a problem. I didn't take someone with me, as the festival was a community activity and I was doing my best to keep the costs down. I should've added £50 to the bill though, to bring someone with me. I was suffering. 

Anyway, much as it was the last thing I wanted to do, I forced myself out of bed, into the shower, had a quick cuppa and did a painful stroll (knees and aankle) to the Sacred Heart for 8.30am mass. If you are not familiar with my habits, I am what you might call a rather bad Roman Catholic. I am a sinner (and sometime a bit too proud of it). But I do believe in keeping the boss upstairs happy. Some days, it can be difficult to drag myself out of bed to mass. Today was one of them. The church is being refurbished, so mass was in the hall. I found myself sitting by the exit, which looks out on the bus stop and Mill Hill wines. No disprespect to Fr Chinedu, who says a lovely mass, but I found my mind wandering. The door was open for ventilation. I found myself observing the tree outside Mill Hill Wines. It is a glorious morning and the Sun was shining, There was still a chill in the air. I saw a crow land on the top of the tree. He let out a loud 'caw' and another crow joined him. I felt a twang of jealousy. They clearly were enjoying the sunshine, without a care in the world. For them, the changing season will bring challenges. Winter will bring dark cold times, for them it can't be much fun. We have electricity, central heating and can put a coat on. The crows have same feathers in winter and summer. But they clearly were keen to enjoy themselves today. They have got the right attitude, enjoy the last days of good weather. 

My mind then turned to breakfast. Should I go to see my mate Gerard, the butcher on Daws Lane and get some bacon and sausages for a fry up. This would be a wonderful way of lifting my maliase and following the example of the crows, in enjoying life, whilst I can. Then I thought "what about Clare". My missus does not eat meat. I could make her a fried egg, but... I then thought "I can go to Yummies and get some onion bagels, some cream cheese and some nice dry smoked salmon and we can all be happy". I looked at the crow and his mate, still up the tree. Crows are social animals and like to hang out together in a gang called a murder. Even crows need company and companionship. 

So when mass finished, off I went to Yummies, purchased our breakfast and started to walk down Mill Hill Broadway, back home. My knee and ankle pain had slightly dissapated. The morning was glorious. As I walked past Iceland, there were huge trolleys blocking most of the street, full of rubbish. As I went around them, a small boy, I'd guess 4 or 5 hurtled around the corner, nearly crashing into me on a scooter. He turned around and sped off towards his mum who was by Smiths. He clearly was getting a real buzz out of hurtling up and down the Broadway and in truth I was a bit jealous that I seldom get such a bizz from such simple things. We grow up and we think about things far too much.

I got home, made breakfast for Clare and my son and I realised how fortunate I was to have forced myself out of bed this morning. It really was hard, but it was one of those moments when I just found the sheer joy of living to be exhilarating. The 40 odd minutes a week I spend at mass, may well be the only time I have to be truly reflective and appreciative of this amazing world we live in.

The Sun is shining today, it may be a while before we get such a glorious weekend day again. Do yourself a favour and make the most of it. 

I'll end with a little ditty I wrote about Sundays. I love the footage in this of Old Mill Hill!

The Saturday List #498 - My top ten favourite playground games at school

 Blimey. In two more lists, we'll have hit 500 lists. List #1 was published on 9th June 2012. More of that over the next two episodes in the journey. I am surprised that I haven't done this one before. I first went to school back in 1967. As I was an August baby, my mum held me back until Easter. I was welcomed to Sister Rosalie's baby class. My mate, who lived up the road was my guide "that's Jim and he's tough, that's Rosy and she smells, that's Frank and he's a bit thick" (Names have been changed to spare any blushes). I was at school for the next 14 years. Most of that time was waiting for one four things. Playtime, Dinner time, home time and football in PE. All of the schools I went to had bells of some sort to tell you when it was the start or end of playtime. At St Vincents, my Primary school, the bell was a hand held bell, rung by a Nun. The nuns would often come out and stand there for five minutes before ringing it, just to rub it in that playtime was over. But what did we do at playtime? Here's my list and a few memories.

1. Football. St Vincents had limited playground space. It was tarmac'd and on a slope. Only the eldest class, what we call Junior 4 and is now year six boys played football, unless you were exceptionally good and you'd be invited. I was rubbish so  I had to wait. Parents hated it. We were always scuffing shoes, tearing trousers, cutting knees. Nothing stopped us. At Finchley Catholic, I broke my nose in Y2 when I tackled Jim Lynch and he landed on my head. Jim was not liked by the school and they tried to get me to say he did it deliberately so they could expel him. He didn't and I wasn't going to lie. Jim was large and a tough nut. After that, he was also a mate. There was always a premium on playground space for football, but when I could, I loved it.

2. Bundles. This was a big part of FCHS. Basically, myself and all of my mates would jump on someone, forming a pile of humanity. You'd bash and kick them and everyone else, but not very hard. I don't think anyone actually got hurt, if they did, they never admitted it. Our class was particularly keen on this form of entertainment.

3. Penny up the wall. A form of gambling. You'd nick some chalk, draw a line about six feet from a wall and take turns to throw pennies at it. You'd have rounds and at each rounds end, the closest would keep the pennies from that round. It was banned by the school. My Dad caught me practising and showed me a great technique, so I'd more often than not get a bag of chips on the way home with the profits at Tally Ho Corner.

4. Skidding down the playground in the ice. At St Vincents, when it was icy or snowed, the playground would become a proper ski slope. Us boys would love this. The teachers would hate it and do everything to prevent us from doing it. We'd take the opportunity when we could and it was a small victory, usually rewarded with the slipper if caught.

5. Kiss chase. This was the one game that boys and girls played together at St Vincents. Basically someone was it and had to chase members of the opposite sex and give them a kiss, then they became it. Sister Gabriel at St Vincents stamped it out, when she caught two kids at the moment of the kiss. Next day, she got them on stage, in front of the whole school and made them repeat the kiss. At the time, we were horrified. Later both became cult heroes. You'd have to ask them if they were damaged by the experience. No one else ever risked it.

6. It. This was a version of kiss chase, without the kiss or the girls. Someone was it, until they tagged someone else. If you were it when the bell rung, you were a social pariah for the rest of the day!

7. Playground fights. This was a thing at FCHS. Two kids would fall out. They'd start fighting. A big ring would form around them and everyone would shout "fight fight fight". At some point, around 1976, a new custom formed, where the ring would all spit at the two people fighting. I was unlucky enough to fall foul of this. I came second in the fight, I got covered in gob and I got the cane. By the time myself and the guy I'd been fighting with had left the headmasters office, we had both become sworn pacifists. All of my classmates (as well as his) insisted we have a rematch, as it had not ended decisively. He took two weeks off ill. By the time he returned, it was forgotten. I cannot even remember what it was about. He was in a different class and I got on OK with him. 

8. Singing songs. When it rained, which it seemed to do for 70% of my schooling, we were not allowed out. Our class would sing songs, changing the lyrics of the songs of the day to be derogatory ditties about members of our class. The two I remember are the versions of Gary Glitters Rock and Roll Pt 2 and also Led Zeppelins It's nobodys fault but mine. I will not say what our versions were called. It really isn't politically correct.

9. British Bulldog. The rules are that "Bulldogs" stand in the middle of a play area while the other players ("runners") line up at one end. When the Bulldogs yell, "British Bulldog!", the runners charge to the opposite end, attempting to avoid being tagged or tackled. Any tagged runner becomes a Bulldog for the next round, and the game continues until only one runner remains, who is the winner. It wasn't popular at FCHS, as the majority of people were from an Irish background and hated anything British related. I was never a fast runner, so it never really interested me much TBH, but I'd join in at St Vincents.

10. Putting people in the pig food bins. At the back of the kitchens at FCHS, there were large bins on wheels that they'd put all of the waste food on. We called them the pig bins. I have no idea if the contents were actually fed to pigs. Our class developed an unhealthy relationship with the pig bins. We'd ambush people we didn't like and throw them in. Then we realised that we could get a classmate to stand up in one and we could push it around at high speed. On one occasion, we liberated one from the school and were pushing it down Woodside Grange Road at High speed, with a classmate pretending to be a tank commander, with his head poking out of the hatch on top. We lost control of it, as a car came around a corner. The bin crashed into that car, then a few others, causing a lot of damage. We all legged it back to school. The headmaster held a special assembly in the playground and demanded that the culprits owned up. The car owner was there. He asked the car owner what colour tie the culprits were wearing. He said red. Class 5b wore purple so us, along with the other four forms who didn't have red ties were dismissed. As we didn't like the class with red ties, we treated it as a double victory. The boy who'd been in the pigbin was miraculously unscathed. We were then told that interfering with pig bins was an expellable offence. 

Sometimes, I think it's a bloody miracle we all made it through unscathed. In truth, I think that most of the break time at FCHS, we just hung around doing nothing, chatting. Subjects would be the weeks football, what was on TOTP, whatever scandal was going on in the school (our favourite was when we caught two teachers in flagrante). The kids that were prone to be bullied would hang around the school library, where there was always a teacher on duty. The kids who smoked, would slope off into the bushes. If you did woodwork or metalwork, you could do extra work in the workshops (we didn't). Towards the end of my time at FCHS, I had got into punk rock and a small group of fellow fans formed and would just discuss music. Another group, who decided they were 'Teds' formed. There was a bit of antagonism between us. When I moved to Orange Hill in 1978, there were a 'bunch of Teds'. I was wary, until they found out I was a punk. They were Boz and Phil from The Polecats. They are mates to this day. Once I got into music, I lost interest in playground games. 

Rock and Roll Stories #45 - So what happens at a band rehearsal?

 Rehearsals? For most bands who do original material, this is how we spend most of our time. If you don't enjoy rehearsing, don't join an originals band. I've only ever fleetingly been in bands that played covers, mostly to help mates out, usually playing bass. When you are in a covers band, you get a list of songs. learn to play them, then go out and earn a load of money playing them. If you gig regularly, you almost never rehearse, except when you decide to freshen up the set, have a new member, have a big show and want to get it right or have had a break. 

For originals bands it's different. We are constantly writing new songs, trying out new ideas, swapping the set around, etc. I've no idea how many thousands of hours I've spent in my life rehearsing, but oddly I enjoy it just as much as I ever have. When the band first got together in 1979, it took us the best part of two years to get to the point where we felt ready to gig. This was for two reasons, the first was that we couldn't play and the second was the constant churn of musicians.  Our first gig was supposed to be in August 1979 supporting the UK Subs in Derby, but our drummer got thrown through a window in a violent assault and severed a tendon. We split up for three months and then it took another six months to get to the situation where we felt we were ready, with a new line up. All of that time, we rehearsed 2-3 times a week. 

When we eventually started gigging, we soon realised that songs that work well in rehearsal (ie in our heads) don't necessarily work well with an audience. It wasn't until 1982 and our tour of Sweden, that I that we were on top of the gigging thing. We got by on energy and attitude, but having strong songs and being tight is really the key to getting on. That comes from rehearsals and gigging regularly.  For me, it is important to keep writing new material, to make the set interesting, to constantly improve. This is done at rehearsals and its importance cannot be emphasised strongly enough. Over the course of time, I've learned that there are three distinct types of rehearsal. Sometimes, time constraints mean we have to combine them. I am not a fan of long rehearsals, although if we were ever asked to support the Rolling Stones or perform on Jools Holland, that is exactly what we'd do. 

So what are the three types of rehearsal? The first, the bedrock of getting an originals band together, is a song writing rehearsal. Our first year was pretty much doing this. Often, we'll play a few songs to warm up, have a cup of tea and then spend the rest of the rehearsal working on the new song(s). We may have a jam at the end to let off steam. These days, when we rehearse a new song, as the songwriter, I will give the band a set of lyrics and the basic chords and explain the arrangement as I see it. I am blessed with three creative band members, Tom Hammond on Trumpet, vocals and occasionally percussion, Fil Ross on Bass and Graham Ramsey on drums. We will have a discussion and then try and then play it through. All members give opinions, suggest changes and then we will play through it. Once we get it right, we will record it. In the early days, that was done on a portable mono cassette recorder. These days, we video it on a mobile phone. Often I will post short clips on Tik Tok and Youtube, so that we get some sort of feedback. This is what we were doing last night, with a new song called "We don't live in America". We also had to have a quick run through of the set, as we have a gig coming up.

The second type of rehearsal we have is a gig rehearsal. I've always worked on the theory that you should keep such rehearsals as short as possible. Just run through the set once, as you would at a gig and then come back to any issues you want to address. Play it as you would a gig, so do the intro banter as well. This is an important part of gigging so practicing it is actually important. 

The third type of rehearsal is for recording sessions. These will take songs and do a deep dive to ensure that we get it right when we play it. These days, as I have my own studio we do more work in the studio, but when we were time and cash limited, these were key. 

So, getting back to last night, what did we do. We scheduled to meet at 8,30pm. I arrived early, printed song in hand, set up, had a tea,etc. Graham and Fil turned up, then Tom. I spent five minutes explaining the concept of the song. I'd messaged Tom earlier in the week to give him a heads up. Tom then gave some excellent feedback. We started with the intro. It starts just with drums, then bass then Trumpet. My guitar comes in, then we break down into the a chorus. When an idea is solid, it generally comes together quickly. I've learned that if songs don't come together quickly, they probably won't work well live. We spent about an hour getting it to the point where it was worth recording. I set up the phone and we did it in one take. It wasn't perfect, but it was pretty damn good IMHO. 

We then had a tea break. Graham and Fil had a cigarette, Tom and I got a tea. We then crashed through the set for the next gig. We were done by 10.45. We had a quick chat as we left and I was home by 11pm. 

This morning, I put a little clip of the intro together on Tik Tok. You might recognise the intro to the song. This is very much intended as a 'get the audience going' song for our live shows. 

@falsedotsrog We don’t live in America! The False Dots grooving out in rehearsal last night! #funk #jazz #ska #reggae #livemusic ♬ original sound - FalseDotsRog

For me, one of the best feelings in the world is conceiving an idea and then watching it come together. The proof of the pudding will be when we perform it live. Nothing makes me happier, at the age of 63 is to make the sort of music that would have excited me when I was sixteen. I suspect that the song will evolve. That his how things work with the False Dots. An example is the song "Electric Ballroom" which Tom sings. This song was originally conceived and played in its old format at our first gig in December 1980. We dropped it shortly after, but I've always had an itch to revisit it. I rewrote the lyrics (Pete Conway wrote the original draft) as I felt it was dated and didn't really mean anything anymore. We also made it a song that builds up over its three verses. Last night, was the best we've ever played it. It feels so good when you have that experience with a song. The feeling that you get when a song works, the band is totally on it and you feel it has been well and truly nailed.

At one point, Tom was enjoying Fil's bassplaying so much, he started videoing it mid song. Some feat as he was playing trumpet at the same time! When I started the band, I thought that by the time I was 63, I'd be smoking a pipe and sitting at home in my slippers. Nothing could be further from the truth. I couldn't be happier with that!

In the new world, the terms left and right are meaningless

I've been deliberately not writing this blog for a few months now. The one thing I always said I wouldn't do is pretend to be a political pundit spouting baseless opinions. What I'm about to write, I've been thinking for the best part of this year, but I now think the facts support what I am going to say.

With the rise of Reform, the political situation in the USA, the events in the middle east, many people have been forced to shift from very long held positions and reinvent their political stance. The odd thing is that whilst this is happening in people's front rooms, in pubs and clubs and in the queue for the bus, the one place it seemingly isn't happening is at the top table of our political parties. The leaders of Labour, Conservatives, Lib Dems, Reform, The Greens, etc all are stuck in the old mindset.

Until the election before last, we largely had three national parties that mattered. The big two of Labour and The Tories and the Lib Dems, who every so often were in a position to hold the balance of power, most recently 2010-2015. We thought we knew what each party stood for.  At the last election, Reform got a hell of a lot of votes, but were to badly organised to transform this into actual seats. The Tories seemed to give up, it is a wonder to me that they got the number of seats they did. Labour ran a brilliant campaign, in terms of organisation, where not a lot of votes, gave them a super majority. The Lib Dems also rana  classic Lib Dem campaign. If the Tories hadn't given up the ghost, they would probably have held the balance of power. Labour very quickly learned that winning is actually the easy bit. Governing is a hell of a lot harder. The Tories learned this after 2015. Cameron, May, Johnson, Truss and Sunak all soon found that actually running a country is a difficult job. In the year 2025, it is almost impossible. 30 years ago, we had to wait for the nightly news before we knew what was happening in the world. Now, a Prime Minister can stand up for question time and with Twitter (etc) by the end of the session, the whole political situation will have changed. It is almost impossible to be properly briefed in such a world. 

Historically, we have divided politics into three blocks. These are left, right and centre. I used to believe that the left believed in social justice, equality, wealth redistribution from the rich to the poor and state control of key industries. As to the right? They believed in free trade, market force, self sufficiency and dereuglation. The centre believes in a mix of the two. Labour has always been (whilst in power) centre left and the Tories centre right. True believers on both sides of the divide have always been frustrated, as neither party ever really followed a hard line agenda. Even the most doctrinaire Tory leader ever, Margaret Thatcher was far more of a centerist than her supporters want to believe. This is a fact, not an opinion. She never dismantled the NHS, she never privatised rail and the post office. She never reall cut benefits to any great extent. The problem for a centerist party such as the Lib Dems always was that both Tory and Labour had stolen their patch. In coalition, they got the blame for all the Tories worst policies (hiking tuition fees), and the Tories took the credit for their most successful ones (raising tax thresholds for lowest band tax payers). 

Now however, we are seeing something completely different happening. To me, it is rather odd. The rise of reform has seen two rather contradictary patterns. The first is that tradition Labour voters, who would never vote Tory are defecting to Reform. This is fuelled by the notion that Labour is doing nothing, except shafting the ordinary man in the street. What I find bizarre is that Labour's leadership seemingly cannot be bothered to address this view. There is a narritive that Labour is so obsessed with small, vocal pressure groups, fringe movements and other vested interests, that they have lost interest in their core vote. As Reform are not Tories, the core vote are finding the message of disaffection attractive. As the Tories did nothing for them for fourteen years, the Tories are simply not credible as an alternative. The other strand is that a string of, mostly oddball, Tories from the more right wing fringes of the Tory party, have defected to Reform. You would think that these people would totally put off traditional Labour voters, but I detect a sort of "we are as fed up as they are" mentality, so at the moment it is being ignored.

There is however another trend. We have seen this recently with the flag protests and also with Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (AKA Tommy Robinson) rallies. I have watched quite a lot of footage of Tommy Robinson. The more I see, the more the I think that Robinson is a classic example of the old saying "in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king". I personally think Yaxley-Lennon is a fraud, anyone who changes their name to sound less posh is a fraud in my book. I have a posh name and I'd never change it. But what he is doing is saying a lot of things that chime with the heartlands of Britain. As he is the only person who is actually confronting difficult issues head on, many who previously identified as being left wing and Labour get what he has to say. There is absolutely no push back from Labour, who seem terrified to raise these issues, let alone confront them. In laymans terms, Sir Keir Starmer has gifted Yaxley-Lennon an open goal. Starmer seems to think that if you ignore difficult problems, they go away. The demise of Peter Mandleson and Angela Rayner is proof that burying your head in the sand simply doesn't work. 

What seems to have happened is that the tradition left vote, is now leaning towards the right. But what has happened on the right is perhaps slightly more interesting. The traditional position of the British right, which is pro trade, pro business, pro self sufficiancy, pro free speach and anti regulation is falling apart. Traditionally, it was the Tories, not Labour who encouraged immigration, as this gave businesses cheap labour. The pro self sufficiency mantra is also not part of the Yaxley-Lennon mantra. His appeal is very much based on saying things like "council houses should be given to British (white) people" rather than migrants. The right used to hate the idea of anyone, especially British people living in council housing. The right invented the stigma around living in a council house. Thatcher cemented her position by selling council housing cheaply to tenants, as she hated the whole thing. That was the seed of the current crisis.

The only major party that, to my mind at least, has a long term consistent position is the Lib Dems. Being staunchly centrist is something that they have not deviated from. Labour? I have no clue what they stand for. They have a super majority, but nothing they are doing is vaguely left wing. They are not interested in reversing privatisation, they have done nothing to lift the burden of cost from students with loans. I have no idea whether the NHS is safe with them. It is probably safer than it would be by any party funded by American billionaires, but that is not a vote of confidence. Kemi Badenoch has managed, in less than a year, to make the Tories seem completely irrelevant. She has accidentally moved the party to the left, mainly by making many of her most right wing supporters decamp to Reform. And then there is Reform. We tend to think of Reform as a Right wing party, but some of what Nigel Farage is saying is actually rather left wing. Clamping down on immigration is a long term aim of the Trades Unions, as the lack of cheap labour forces up wages. Other policies such as abolishing the House of Lords, abolishing interest on student loans, banning the UK from exporting waste seem to me to be more Jeremy Corbyn than Jeremy Corbyn.

I am not sure that the term left or right wing mean anything at all anymore. To me, the biggest problem is that Great Britain simply doesn't seem to have any serious politicians. To me Starmer is a lawyer in the wrong job. He's clever, but he is not a politician. Only possibly Andy Burnham actually looks like a politician with a grip on reality in Labour. Kemi Badenoch? The Tories should sack her tomorrow and simply replace her with James Cleverly. He is far from perfect but at least he is someone who can string two sentences together without making everyone in the room roll their eyes. Ed Davey is a good leader of the Lib Dems, if they want to always be a protest party. Then there is Nigel Farage. The more I see of him, the clearer it is to me that the man is a complete charlatan. He has had a big influx of Tories, who I assume will want to actually run the party as a professional political organisation. Farage is very good at being a fringe opposition figure. When he faces proper scrutiny, he becomes a different beast. I've no idea where this will lead us. I suspect that if any of the non reform parties get their act together, they might well clean up. I expect Reform to implode over the next two years. If you look at the likes of Anne Widdecombe, Nadine Dorries and the other Tories who have joined them, it is hard to see them ever evolving a harmonious party and winning strategy. They will need to do more than not be Labour to actually win a general election. Some Reform types are getting very excited about the idea of an early general election. The one thing I can guarantee is that turkeys don't vote for Xmas and whilst Labour are behind in the polls, with a super majority, their MP's will happily keep the wages rolling in. And as for Yaxley-Lennon and his dreams of an English civil war. It won't happen. We are British and we just don't do that. 

I asked for a kiss, you gave me a box of snakes!

 Dreams. What do they mean? Last night, I had a dream that it was my birthday.  We were having a party in our house and I asked my wife for a kiss. She replied that she had something far better. She gave me a lovely box wrapped in extravagent paper. I was excited, but when I opened it, it was a box of snakes. As I am extremely phobic of snakes, I actually woke up in a panic. My wife had already got up. When I came down stairs she simply laughed and said "that is quite funny". 

What does it mean? I have no idea. My mother used to say that if you dreamed of snakes, it meant there would be a death. What does a whole box of them mean? As you might imagine, I have felt slightly ill at ease all morning. I very rarely dream of snakes. What could have brought that on? Well there are several things. I went for a beer and a curry last night with a mate of mine. I sometimes have vivid dreams when I've had a curry and beer, so that is the mundane answer. Another reason? On the way home, I got a message, out of the blue, from a former friend, who I have no wish to associate with, following some absolutely awful behaviour on his part. We have not been in contact all year, but out of the blue, bold as brass, I get a message as though nothing has happened. I was absolutely furious when I got in. My wife told me I should simply ignore it. I do listen to her at such moments, so this was the course of action I chose. It wasn't my preferred course of action, but probably the most sensible. 

When I got in, I watched the news. Perhaps one of the biggest snakes in modern times was the top story. To me, it beggars belief that America, the richest and most powerful nation on earth have chosen a leader with so little personal integrity. I've never really wanted to be the King. Can you imagine having to invite such people around for dinner and to have to be nice to him. A mate observed yesterday that he's had a lot of experience dealing with people like that, having Andrew as his brother.

Then there is Facebook. When I joined Facebook, all I really wanted was to keep up with what my friends were doing. These days, it almost never shows me what my friends are up to. It decides what it thinks I want to see. Oddly, this most days is videos of snakes. It turns my stomach, but I am too thick to get it to stop. This morning, oddly, it wasn't snakes, it was a man hitting a large cat with a chair. To be honest, that was more sickening than snakes. After I'd navigated away from tehe page, I realised I should have reported it. It was not a UK clip. If it was I'd have reported it to the police. 

It made me realise that there are worse things than snakes. When I was a child, my Dad, who was born in the outback of Australia, used to scare the life out of me with stories of poisonous snakes. That may be where the phobia came from. One day, I mentioned that I was terrified of snakes. Dad replied that they are nothing to be scared of. He said they are just animals and if you treat them respectfully, they leave you alone. He then said do you want to know what the worst monster of all is? I said "Yes". He

picked my up and said "I will show you, close your eyes". He picked me up and we went into another room. He said "Open your eyes". To my shock, I was looking in a mirror. He then said "all the worst, most terrible things are done by people. People Like Hitler casually killed millions of people, no animal has ever done anything like that". I was too young to understand.

It is quite attractive to think of Trump as some sort of despot, but he was democratically elected and his party has a majority in the US parliaments. He hasn't set up death camps, he hasn't jailed opponents. It is pretty clear that he lacks the gumption to actually stand up to other leaders who are breaking international law. The only people who get a kicking under the Trumpian world are those who can't defend themselves. Yesterday, he launced a £15 billion lawsuit against the New York Times. This is a man who lectured Sir Keir Starmer on 'Free Speech'. Why? He didn't like what the NYT said about him. He is extraordinarily thin skinned. 

He craves the attention of despicable people. Karl Marx wrote "history repeats itself, first as tragedy, then as farce". I don't know if he had a crystal ball and saw Trump in it. I often wonder how Trump thinks history will judge him. An unkind friend suggested "rather harshly, because most of the people who support him aren't smart enough to write history books".  The strange thought occurred to me that I could draw an anolgy between my dream and Donald Trump. I suspect that from my perspective, voting for Donald Trump was like asking for a box of snakes, but getting a box of worms. Much as Trump might view himself as a King Cobra, to me, he's actually more of a lugworm in bling. (pictures courtesy of @Grok). 

How the rest of us see him

How Trump sees himself

AI - the end or a new beginning?

How old am I? I am old enough to remember the world when AI was a pipedream. I am old enough to remember when AI was not called AI. I am old enough to have worked on computers before they were connected to the Internet. BAck in 1983, I worked on a system that is probably now what we'd describe as AI. Back then it was called Decision Support software. It ran on a DEC PDP11/34 computer, that had 248KB of memory. It lived in an air conditioned machine room and the system was the size of three large fridges. The software, which my company (SPL International) developed was for a multinational oil company. You fed in all manner of data, such as the geological make up, the political stability and the transport infrastructure and the system would tell you whether it was a good place to look for oil deposits. 

The company had a subdivision called "British Robotics". They produced software for British Leyland, which automated car building. In the 1970's British Leyland management believed the way to defeat the unions was to automate factories. There was a pipe dream that you'd have a dark factory, where the bits went in and the cars came out. There would be no staff. Here we are 40 years on, according to Google AI, 182,000 still work in motor manufacturing.

I was talking to a mate who works in finance and is just about to retire. He tells me that within a few years, people won't actually work in finance, it will all be AI. He reminded me of what one of SPL's salesmen used to tell our customers "Spend enough money with us and you won't need staff!". What I have seen as IT has developed beyond all our wildest dreams, is that some whole departments in banks have completely disappeared. For instance, banks would employ hundreds of people in large offices, who would spend their days sorting out and processing cheques. I can't recall the last time I even wrote a cheque. AI has taken this to a whole new level. Want to research an investment? Ask AI. Want to write some code? Ask AI. Want to know if software works? Ask AI. Want to know What shares are best to invest in? Ask AI. Who needs staff?

It is not just the motor trade and finance where this is happening. Want to book a holiday, AI willf ind you the best deal. Want to know the best way to fry a plantain? AI will tell you. We are doomed, aren't we?

Well actually, experience tells me that we are not. Technology destroys whole industries as it advances, which is why we don't see stage coaches thundering up the A1 to York, or shops selling typewriter ribbons, new jobs and industries pop up. In 1948, my Father worked for an Oil company in the middle east as a pilot. His job? Flying around the oilfields, which were remote, with the wages for the workforce. Now they will be paid by a bank transfer and will get the money transferred into their account. When I worked in IT from 1983 until ten years ago, I worked in payments transmissions. This industry effectively destroyed my Dad's job (he'd long since had a career change). His next job? He ran a car crash repair business. At one time, he employed enough men to have his own football team! The workshop is still there, but now, there are three people doing the same amount of work. Power tools, different paints, better techniques made repairs less labour intensive. Panel beaters do not beat out dents, etc. 

I've heard some silly staements about AI, one mate even said that all restaurants would be run by AI within five years. Clearly he doesn't know how the kichen in a Michelin starred restaurant works. Ingredients vary every day and food is constantly tasted. Of course, mass produced slop may be automated and our drive through takeaways may have AI cooking systems, doing mass catering, but I simply can't see it replacing restaurants that people actually visit to enjoy the ambience. 

Just as some industries disappear, new ones spring up. So what are the new jobs of the future? I am sure in 1948, my Dad never envisaged that his son would work on systems that ended the need to transport huge amounts of banknotes by air. So the answer is, I don't really know, but I have absolutely no doubt that there will be more jobs, not less as a result of AI. New technology opens new doors. Whilst money transmission is ever more automated, the fact that it opens up new channels of commerce generates different jobs. Modern commerce would be impossible with a cash only society. People earn money selling products on platforms such as Amazon and Ebay. 25 years ago, those opportunities simply wouldn't exist.

Twenty years ago, no one made a living as a TikTok or Instagram Influencer. 40 years ago, no one made a living as a computer games designer. My worry about AI is that it is effectively plaigarism on an industrial scale. It nicks everyones ideas and creative content and no one gets paid for it. When this is addressed and AI companies start paying for the data they have mined, there will be all sorts of new jobs. This blog is a 'trusted source' for AI and I see huge amounts of data mining on it. I don't get a penny. It is rather galling that I spent over a decade writing and it is Elon Musk and CO who reap the financial rewards. I'm not greedy, but I do believe the labourer should be rewarded for their work. 

One aspect that people often miss is just how powerful a processor the human brain is. Computers can do specific tasks almost infinitely faster, but the human brain can perform all manner of diverse tasks simultaneously.  You are sitting there reading this. You are breathing, maybe eating, having a coffee, listening to the radio. If someone knocks on the door, you will be able to deal with that. If your smoke alarm goes off, or the dog starts barking you will deal with it. You will know from the dogs woof, whether it wants to go to the toilet or a burglar is in the house. The biggest asset a human has over a computer, is that we get bored. AI doesn't.  When we get bored, we get creative. It is our superpower. 

This is not the first time I have written about AI. I thought I'd ask Google AI if I was right?

This is it's reply

It is not possible to determine if the "Barneteye blog" is right about AI because "Barneteye" appears to be a misremembered name, and there is no prominent blog with that specific name or similar. There are, however, many reputable blogs and resources discussing AI, and the accuracy of any given blog depends on the credibility of its authors and the information it presents, as AI's capabilities, ethical considerations, and impact on various fields are constantly evolving topics.

My dyslexic musings aged 9 3/4's

Clearly it is not exactly keen on what I have to say, which gives me great hope for the future. Given that this blog is on Blogger, which is a Google platform, and it has over 5 million hits, from their own stats, I am a bit surprised at how dim this form of "INTELLIGENCE" is, especially given that the query also brought up various links to the articles I've written. 

It seems that Google AI has the same opinion of my intelligence and repute as my teachers at St Vincents, when I was a semi literate 9 /34 year old. I am used to be ing told I didn't exist and my work was not credible. It is your job, dear reader to decide who is right!

I suspect that in 20 years, we'll all wonder what the fuss was about.