I have to admit, I absolutely hate funerals, but I love the wake after

 I have spent the whole day successfully avoiding any coverage at all of the funeral of Her Majesty the Queen. I have always absolutely loathed funerals, be it friends, families or members of the Royal Family. The more formal the funeral, the more pomp and ceremony, the less I like it. When I was a child, I was an alter server at the local Roman Catholic Church. Their was fierce competition to serve at weddings, as you always got a cash bung and they were cheerful events. As part of the local community, we knew most of the people anyway. They were either family or friends. We'd often be invited into the social centre for a glass of pop afterwards, as a thank you, even if we weren't invited. 

Funerals were the opposite end of the scale. The services were long, everyone was miserable, you didn't get a bung and no one invited you in for some pop. If it was a relative or someone you liked, it was grim business. Generally with the Mill Hill alter servers, some form of scalliwaggery went on. There wasn't much on telly back in the 1960's and 1970's, it was a bit of a Boys club, where we met up, did the job at hand, then talked about football, went to the park to kick a ball around or to the shops to spend our pocket money. Girls were not allowed to join, they had to make do with the choir. Most of us were in the servers from the age of about 6-7 until we were 13 or 14. The setup at the Sacred Heart in Mill Hill was a bit like Father Ted in London. The church was and is run by the Vincentian Order. There was a Father Ted style Parish Priest. He was the Boss man and made all of the decisions. In my time, we had Fr Dowley, a wonderful chap. He set up a great social scene, with a thriving parish life and a good social club. He was followed by Fr Corkery. He was stern man, who disliked the Irish drinking culture and shut  down the social club. He was followed by Fr Clear, a nice chap, but by 1976, when he arrived I'd lost interest in it all. 

The Fr Jack character, the old semi retired priest was Fr Andy Kavanagh. He was a Cork man and his accent was so thick as to be almost indecipherable. He'd been a missionary in China and had been tortured by the Chinese Communists. He'd often turn up at our house and have a whisky with my Dad. I quite liked him, purely on the basis that he gave you very light penances when you made a confession (which for a while was almost mandatory). I suspect he realised that most kids making confession were not really that sinful. Occasionally I'd confess a terrible sin, such as nicking my brothers change to buy sweets and he'd chuckle. The standard penance was three Hail Mary's.  If you were really bad, you got an Our Father. One of my mates confessed that he'd got distracted serving on the alter by a rather pretty girl in the congregation and forgotten to bring over the alter wine. He had to say a decade of the Rosary. Fr Kavanagh (quite unusualy for him) also offered him some sage advice. He said "Don't let girls distract you, it will get you into all kinds of trouble!". He didn't listen and got into all kinds of trouble. 

Then there was the young Fr Dougall character. Their job was to run the alter servers. There were a few. The greatest of these was the rather wonderful Fr Jimmy Sheil. A rugby and football loving priest, the best kind. He took us on outings to Brighton and Margate and made it all fun. He knew we hated funerals, so he had a points system. You got points for doing the less popular masses & funerals and that got you first dibs of the weddings. His successor abolished this as "unholy" and they always struggled to get servers after that. 

Big funerals had a requiem mass, usually in Latin, that went on for ages. The one redeeming feature of a funeral was that you could usually get let off school at Finchley Catholic, if you were serving. Anything was better than school to me, so I did quite a few funerals, but in truth, it was always a real chore. The only good thing was you got the whole morning off school. Having a lie in and lunch at home was the main attraction. Quite often, it would be your mates Grannies etc who were being buried. They'd see you on the alter and struggle to hold back the tears, not wanting to be laughed at for being softies. I sometimes thought it would be kinder if we weren't there at all. I don't know if that's where I got my dislike from, but I suspect it was. 

I was quite lucky in some regards. All of my grandparents passed before I was born, so I was spared their funerals. In fact the only family funeral I can really recall attending was my Aunty Kathleen, my Godmother and my mum's brother's wife. She was a lovely lady and it was a rather harrowing day. The wake was the first such do that I recall. I was probably 11 or 12 and my Uncle George gave me a couple of Scotches. It was fascinating watching the gathered mourners descend from stiff upper lipped reverence into drunken reminsiscence. I realised that I loved wake's but hated funerals. I was also extremely grateful that I belonged to a religion, family and culture with a drinking culture. It meant that a proper send off was given. I've been to dry funerals and to me, it feels very uncomfortable.

As we mourn the Queen, I started thinking about the wake that the Royals will have. Perhaps for me the most interesting  aspect of a wake is that people who hate each others guts are forced to spend time together, drinking alcohol. You tend to find 'different camps' in different corners of the room. Those with no axe to grind circulate. I get the feeling that there are a few fairly distinct camps in the Royal family. I wonder what anecdotes will be swapped? I wondered how Wills and Harry get on with their cousins? One very strange thing. I have a pretty good memory, but I have almost no recollection of my Mothers funeral and none of her wake. As to my Father, I recall a few sketchy memories, mostly of various relatives annoying me.  It was held in the social centre of the Catholic Church in Mill Hill. I carried the coffin in, being the tallest son, I was at the front of the line with my Brother in law Peter. My Dad was 17 stone and it was a bloody heavy weight. My Dad was well known in the Church and there were a lot of priests on the alter. When his coffin was laid in the ground, various people threw items in on top of it. These were things like a deck of cards and a sprig of eucalyptus (he was an Aussie). My Dad, being an Aussie, was always pretty irreverent at such events. At his own wake, I can't recall anyone taking on his role of dropping the bombshell witty comment that got us all cracking a smile. We weren't ready for him to go, which put a bit of a dampner on it. The best wake I can recall was my Uncle George's. He died of Prostate Cancer and had spent the previous six months planning every detail. It was at the Load of Hay, long since demolished, in Hendon. At the end of the night, myself and my brother Laurie. George had left strict instructions that we'd be the last ones and we were to have a glass of the finest scotch on him. My sister Caroline who was with us was quite put out. 

Sometimes at the wake, people end up putting long standing disputes to bed, sometimes quite the opposite. I hope the Royals can sort their differences out

So is there 'life after death'? Where is Queen Elizabeth now?

 As I'm sure most of the nation has seen more of Church Services and funerals this last week than we've seen for a very long time, I got thinking about the premise of life after death. One of the key roles of the Monarch is to be head of the Church of England and Scotland. We didn't always think of the Queen as a religious leader, but that is just what she was and by all accounts she took her personal faith seriously. The new King has sworn a solemn oath to carry on this duty. The new King has sworn to defend the faith of Christianity to the best of his abilities and carry out the work of Jesus, who followers believe to be the son of God. The central proposition of Christianity is that when we die, we go to heaven if we lead good lives and go to hell if we are naughty. When I was kid, the bar was low for not going to heaven. Missing Mass on Sunday, losing your ruler or talking in class were definite sins. At my Catholic School we were told that there were two types of sin. Mortal sins, such as murder and being a Protestant and venial sins, such as pinching your sisters bacon sarnie when she wasn't looking. Mortal sins got you straight to hell. For venial sins, there was a totting up process, too many and you'd be joining Hitler, Goebells and Ian Paisley in Hell. Priests would remind us of this every Sunday at mass.

My Dad and all of his mates would listen intently, then nip next door to the Catholic club for a ciggie, a few beers and a game of snooker. My Dad was a deeply religious man. He'd been a World War 2 bomber pilot and was convinced that it was only through the intervention of the Virgin Mary that he'd survived. He told me that as he bale'd out of the Wellington bomber, which he was piloting over Rumania on a bombing mission, that had been destroyed by an Me109 night fighter, he prayed for the intercession of Mary and said that if he survived, he'd live his three score and ten years as well as he could and would be a good Catholic. The story of his experience always fascinated me. There was one deeply disturbing aspect that neither he nor I could never really explain. As the plane approached the target, he turned to see another member of his squadron, a pilot called Jack Scheider sitting in the co pilot seat. Scheider said "It's a killer the way these Wimpeys go down Laurie". Scheider had been lost on operations the previous week. My father was about to reply when a burst of cannon fire from the Me109 fighter attacking him hit the plane, taking off half a wing and killing the rear gunner. He got the rest of the crew out and managed to bale out just before the plane hit the ground and exploded. 

He could never explain the apparition of Scheider. He only ever mentioned it to close family, not wishing to draw ridicule. I once asked him what Scheider looked like. We all think of ghosts as strange apparitions, but he said Scheider seemed as real as the rest of the crew. One of my uncles spoke to my father and recorded the story. I was passed the transcript when my uncle died. My aunt told me that my Uncle was fascinated by the tale. He was going to write a book of my fathers wartime experience, but they both died before this could come to fruition. 

When my Father told me this, I 100% believed he was telling the truth. He was simply not given to making it up. I asked him once what message he'd drawn. The reply? He said it took him a long time to figure it out, but he felt Scheider was telling him that there was something after and that it was OK. He said his demanour was friendly and reassuring. My father said the whole experience strengthened his faith immeasurably. 

Have you ever seen a ghostly apparition that you really can't explain. I have on three occasions. The first time was a strange apparition walking across the footpath across St Josephs College fields. It walked straight past me. It looked like a Victorian gentleman, white as a sheet and around 8' tall. It was three in the morning and foggy. I thought "That's odd" and he was gone. It may not have been a ghost, my mother said it was the Grim reaper on his way to harvest souls. I was around 19. It was just odd, I didn't think much of it and it didn't really bother me. The guy looked completely real. 

The second time was at a hotel in the USA called the Black Bass on the Delaware River. There was a rather irritating presence in my bedroom. I had a very bad nights sleep, which culminated with the sensation of hands on my ankles trying to pull me out of bed. It was unpleasant, I assumed that he didn't like the look of me. The rooms weren't numbered, they had names like "lavendar" and "willow". The room I was in was called "La Bastard" so I should really have known. You may wonder how I coped? I was really annoyed and told it to "F*** Off" as I hate having my sleep interrupted. I said that if that was the best he could do, he was wasting his time and after that I got to sleep. I was travelling with friends. They were in the next room and heard my comment. My friends wife was terrified, as she knew something was not right. That was in 1993. I really have no idea what it was but it wasn't much fun. I have my father to thank for how I dealt with it. He spent my entire youth drumming into me the message "never show you are afraid to any one or anything, ever". He was raised in the outback of Australia and he said that whatever you are dealing with, be murderers, robber, dangerous animals or anything else, if you show no fear, you have the the best chance. It seems it works with ghosts as well. 

But are ghostly apparitions and strange bumps in the night proof of an afterlife? Do they prove that Her Majesty the Queen has gone to a different realm, rather than just ceasing to exist? If I'd just had the two experiences I detailed, I wouldn't be too sure. There are possible explanations. However my third experience left me in no doubt at all.  You can make of it what you will. I'm not trying to make any point or convert anyone who is an avowed atheist, we all have our own path and our own reality, but for me it answered the question beyond doubt.

As regular readers will have no doubt deduced, my Dad was a massive influence on me. Although we fought and argued a lot and of my five siblings, I was probably his least favourite, he always had my back and told me a lot of things that he shared with no one else. I think he realised I was a bit of a rebel and he needed to arm me for life more than my siblings, who are a lot more respectable and intelligent. 

He passed away suddenly aged 69 from an anuerism in January 1987. He'd been swimming in the sea in Florida two days before. We were devastated, no one more so than my mother. A few years after, she told me she'd not realised how much she loved him until he was gone. But gone he was. I was 24 at the time. It hadn't occurred to me that he was mortal. My mind went back to the deal he made with the Virgin Mary and his three score and ten years. He was in his 70th year. She'd stuck to the deal. He had his three score and ten. 

Dad, three days before he passed away, with Mum

The whole family was in turmoil. My parents had been in Florida on holiday for the winter, with my sister Valerie who lives there. My mothers eldest sister had died unexpectedly, so they'd returned.  I didn't even know they were back. I got a call from my eldest brother at 8am to say Dad had passed away. My first question was "In America?". We all gathered around my mum, shellshocked. My girlfriend, now my wife, came back from University to support me. I was living above the shops on Mollison Way. Most of what happened was a blur, but two days after he passed, I awoke to find him at the bottom of my bed. I was in it with my girlfriend who was asleep. I was shocked. He looked rather disdainfully at me and said "I've got a message for your mum, tell her I'm sorry I left her, but I had to go". With that, he was gone. I immedaitely woke Clare and told her that I'd seen him. 

When I went around later to see my mum, I felt it best to not say anything. In fact the message seemed so nonsensical that I questioned whether it happened at all. I kept quiet. Some time later, I shared with my siblings that I'd seen Dad. I didn't mention the message, I felt they would think I'd made it up. If he'd said "Tell her I love her" or something else, I'd have had no qualms. After about a year, my mother challenged me and said "I hear you saw your father after he died". I was a bit shocked. She asked if I could have dreamed it, as she'd had no sense of him being around at all. They'd been married for 43 years and there was just an emptyness. I told her I was sure that I was awake and he was there. I felt that if I gave her the message, she'd think I'd made it all up, so I didn't.

About six months later, she was starting to adapt to life. We were having a Guinness. I don't know why, but I decided that I'd pass the message on. I felt that she was probably in the right place to hear it. What happened took me aback. I explained that he'd given me a message, but I hadn't felt comfortable telling her. She immediately asked what it was. I told her and she went absolutely mad and threw me out of the house. She screamed "How could you be so cruel" at me. I assumed that she'd simply thought the message nonsensical and was angry at me for making it up. I didn't see her for two weeks, I was embarrassed and didn't know what to say. She rang me at work and asked if I'd come and see her. She sounded quite curt on the phone and I was fully expecting another piece of her mind.

I turned up and we exchanged pleasantries. I'd had about half a can of Guinness when she said "Why on earth did you wait 18 months to give me that message?". I replied that I just felt it was such a strange thing to say and I didn't want to upset you. She then said "Your father always promised that he'd never leave me, but he did. I've been furious at him for the whole time. I don't understand why he said it to you?". I profusely apologised and said that I had no idea that it would mean anything at all. She was quite cross and said "That wasn't your decision to make, you should have told me straight away". I felt really awful.

About two years after that, I was again having a Guinness with my Mum as we did most nights. She suddenly said, completely out of the blue, "I owe you an apology". She hadn't done anything to upset me, so I was puzzled. She then said "I was really horrible to you when you gave me that message from Dad". I was quite embarrassed by the whole thing. I didn't really want to talk about it. She then said "I could not understand why Laurie would give the message to you, of all people. I was angry that you didn't pass it on to me straight away and I was angy that you didn't even appreciate that it meant something so important. But when I thought about it, I realised that your father had done it deliberately. He knew you'd give me the message at the right time, when I would really understand it and couldn't dismiss it. He knew that this would let me know he was alright and we'd be alright. If you'd told me when I was still in shock it would have meant nothing.". 

She was probably right. I am sure my sisters would have told her straight away. I've no idea what my brothers would have done. She needed to hear the message, but only when she'd gone through the stages of grief and was back on track. When she said that, the effect on me was quite profound. I realised that my Father had entrusted me with the last and possibly the most important thing he'd done. More than anything, he needed my mother to know that things would be alright and that he was sorry. But he needed her to know when she could fully understand.

Now if you are a sceptic or a cynic, you will find your own explanation. I probably would if I'd read this before the whole thing happened. Until now, only my close family and one or two friends have been told. The last week has made me realise that I should share this.  The experience didn't particularly validate my religious beliefs. I don't share this to try and change anyone's minds. I'm posting it because I truly believe that my Father, after he had passed away, had somehow managed to get a message to my mother that he was OK and things will be OK. And if he's OK, then there's no reason to believe we won't all be, is there? If the events of the last week have made you feel unsettled or caused grief, maybe there will be a ray of light.

One thing that interested me was that when my Mum passed away, there was no message, She was just gone. I've no idea how these things work. Maybe we only really get what we need when we need it. I don't really know. At the time, it all made no sense to me. I felt I'd completely cocked up what I was supposed to do. It was only when my mum put me right, that I had any understanding. 

I've no idea how common such things are. If someone chooses to not believe what I experienced, I'm totally fine with that. I would be sceptical. I genuinely don't feel comfortable talking about it. On the very rare occasion that I've mentioned it to someone who is not family, I've generally got a very sceptical response and a barrage of questions that I can't answer. The most common one being "Are you sure you just didn't dream the whole thing?". I know that I didn't dream it. I also know that if I'd imagined it or made it up, I wouldn't have made that message up. I was genuinely shocked that it was the one message my mother was looking for. Some years later, my mother told me that when she was writing to my father in the POW camp in Rumania, they had their own secret code to let each other know they were OK. She told me "when someone is special to you, its easy to tell them something, without it meaning anything to anyone else". She wasn't talking about his message, but it made me realise that there was some code in there. I wonder what the 'rules' are if we can get messages across? I got the distinct feeling that Dad couldn't get away quick enough. And in case you are wondering, yes I do have doubts about the whole thing and perhaps my own sanity, in some ways I wish he'd told another of my siblings. It is really quite disturbing when you think about it. 

The Saturday List #360 - Ten songs for loss

 On Monday, we will be saying our final goodbye to Her Majesty the Queen. It got me thinking about songs about losing someone or remembering someone who has gone. I thought a playlist would be appropriate. This is not a normal selection, it includes artists, songs and genre's that are not always associated with death and grieving, but I'd happily have any of these at my funeral. They are respectful and contemplative. Some, such as Fire and Rain, by James Taylor and Death Disco by Public Image are about the loss of a loved one. Some such as Too many rivers by Jimmy Cliff are not about death but seem to sum up the mode of remembrance well and some such as I remember you by The Ramones, I'm not overly sure but it always reminds me of a very dear friend I lost far too early. I hope it gives you some inspiration.

 Here is my selection. 

Can someone explain to pub staff that they work in the HOSPITALITY industry

 Regular readers, with sharp eyes, will know that I regularly meet up with an old mate of mine who lives in Croydon on a monthly basis for a beer and a curry. We usually meet somewhere in central London at a pub that serves decent real ale, the adjourn to an old school style Indian restaurant. This Tuesday, we went a little bit off piste (pardon the bad pun) and he ventured up to Kentish Town. We generally consult the Good Beer guide for venues and often will have a pint in two or three. For our visit to Kentish Town, we chose the Southampton Arms. Although a decent walk from the station, it has an excellent selection of ales including milds and porters. 

If you are looking for a snazzy pub, with gaudy fittings, loud music, fizzy lagers and gastro style food at expensive prices, you will be bitterly disappointed. If you want a decent pint of proper beer, in a proper old school pub, then check it out. We arrived at 5pm. There was just ourselves and a pair of old boys, who had spent the day working their way through the ales. 

Like all good pubs, the staff let you try the ales if you aren't sure and are friendly with a good knowledge of beer. I commented that the lack of music and TV screens, the old school filament bulbs and the chalkboards meant that we could have been in any year since we first started drinking beers together in 1984. I've not been to the Southampton before, it's up the hill, half way to Tufnell Park, but a few friends had mentioned it, suggesting we try it. As I supped my first pint, a rather decent Porter, I felt a bit sad that such a great pub had only the pair of us and a couple of old boys at the bar. Has time really moved on to the point where we are just dinosaurs?

As I was finishing my beer, the afew people arrived. By the time we were ready for our second pint there were half a dozen people, in the queue in front of me. By the time we departed, for a pretty fine curry at the Bengal Lancer at around 7pm, every table was full and the tables in the beer garden also had patrons. 

I realised that my early worries were completely unfounded. We were surrounded by patrons, young and old, all sampling the fine ales and enjoying an enviroment where it was friendly, calm and relaxed. There is a sign on the wall exclaiming that they are a dedicated ale and cider house and all of the beers and ciders are from independent brewers. I drink in a fair few pubs, who work for chains with massive marketing resources, yet a simple formula of a quiet, friendly pub, which simply sells great beer and cider and tasty bar sancks, such as pork pies and sausage rolls is a real winner. Employing people who enjoy their job and dont spend half their time staring at their mobile phones, looking like they are doing you a favour taking your cash, was a refreshing change. 

The sad truth is that London's pubs are full of people working for them that simply don't understand that they work in the HOSPITALITY industry. They are constantly looking for ways to increase profits, without recognising that the best way to make a pub successful is to make people feel comfortable and relaxed, so they can enjoy a few beers in peace. If the beers are top quality, then even better. I was discussing this with a friend last night, who said "Real ales aren't everyones cup of tea". I get that and I know there are people who want to drink Fosters and watch Sky Sports in the pub. Sometimes I do, if I'm out and Manchester City are playing. But when I have an evening with friends, I want to be able to hear what they are saying, I want to be able to have a choice of beers and I want to relax. I don't want to be kept waiting for a pint, as staff check phones. I don't want to ask the staff what the ale is like and be told "I don't have a clue". I don't want overly bright lights and loud music, unless I'm in a music pub such as the Dublin Castle, in which case I love it because it is good music. I don't care if a pub has flashy fittings and neon signs, so long as the atmosphere is relaxed. The Southampton Arms has chic shabbyness and it made me feel most at home. 

Area's like Burnt Oak have lost all of their pubs. Is this really because pubs are out of fashion, or is it because they are run by accountants who would have to be dragged into a pub, unless they were collecting the profits? Having seen the Southampton Arms doing a rather brisk trade on a wet Tuesday evening in September, I suspect I know the answer. Last night, I was at the Mill Hill Services club. I'm a committee member, we were interviewing six new members. The club has four snooker tables, a darts board, and a good range of beers and spirits at great prices. It was busy every snooker table all night. We always ask people why they want to join. The reason? They've been brought along as guests, they enjoy a friendly atmosphere, where they can have a decent pint and not get ripped off. It's not hard, is it?

Recalling the wonderful days of CND benefit gigs

 There is only one nation on earth that has voluntarily given up nuclear arms. That nation is Ukraine.  I was looking at some old photo's of my band recently and I fondly recalled the CND benefit gigs that we did. I can recall having long arguments with my Dad about CND. He felt I was a naive idiot for believing that dictatorships would respect any nation that voluntarily disarmed and adopted a neutral position. I pointed to the examples Switzerland and Sweden, who seemed to do alright. I had a dream last night that I was having a beer with him and he said "Do you still think supporting CND was a good idea?". 

The expereinces of Ukraine would lead one to conclude that giving up nuclear weapons may not be the most sensible move. It also poses the question "what would have happened if Ukraine kept the nukes?". Would it have deterred Putin? Would any Ukrainian leader be crazy enough to launch a first strike in the event of  a Russian invasion? It would have certainly given him pause for thought. 

Some of the very first gigs I organised were CND benefit gigs. I also played quite a few locally. I asked myself if, in hindsight, I'd still have done that. Looking at the old pictures, I felt rather nostalgic, but I one has to ask if it was a sensible cause. On one level, I think CND's aims for a world without nuclear weapons is a completely morally justifiable position and it should be the goal of every politician. But CND believe that the UK should unilaterally give up its nuclear deterrent. This is a far more complicated question. It is also not as simple to answer as it was in the days when my Dad was around and we had those conversations. To me, the Presidency of Donald Trump laid bare just how fragile the worlds military alliances really are. 

The UK does not really have an 'independent nuclear deterrent. We rent a system from the USA and we could only use it with their blessing. Trump may well end up back in the White House in a couple of years (or someone even worse). The plug could be pulled on the UK's Trident system at any time. I'm really not sure that, in the ever evolving world, it offers value for money. If the UK had a genuinely independent system, maybe I'd feel different, but I genuinely believe that Trident is not a good use of the UK's money and resources. Whilst Nato exists, I doubt anyone would seriously plan a nuclear attack on us, although a breakdown in diplomacy and an uncontrolled escalation of tensions leading to a nuclear war once again seems possible. I suspect that to Putin, the UK's deterrent makes us a more important target than Spain or Italy. 

We need organisations like CND to ask the questions that they ask in a democratic society. You cannot face down people like Putin with good intentions, but a world where we move on from such leaders should always be a goal and it will never be achieved whilst there is a huge arms industry lobbying governments and supporting war mongers. There is a narrative in some quarters that the situation in Ukraine is somehow the fault of Nato. Anyone who actually knows Russia and the former Soviet Republics will know that this is absolute rubbish. The Putin regime is a very dangerous entity, but like many dictators, Putin has totally overplayed his hand and made some classic miscalculations. The failure of his plans has created a very dangerous situation, as his very survival is now at stake. I never really believed that a Russian or a USSR leader would deliberately start a nuclear war, although they nearly started one in 1983 when they misread the runes of a Nato exercise. That resulted in a whole swathe of new checks and balances to ensure that such a scenario didn't happen. Putin has shown a complete disregard for his own people and a contempt for his armed forces. Would he be crazy enough to use tactical nuclear missiles? I still, on balance, don't think so but I am far less sure than I ever was previously. The one thing I am 100% sure about is that if he does, the UK possessing Trident will in no way colour his decision and the concept that we would respond unilaterally without US approval is crazy. 

In one conversation I had with my Dad, I remember saying that the UK had been the global superpower in the 19th century, the US in the 20th century. I asked who he thought would be the next superpower. His answer shocked me. He replied Australia. When I asked why, he said "If theres a nuclear war, they are well out of the way". I was neve rquite sure if he was joking or not.

By the way, is anyone in touch with the former Hendon CND organiser Tony Byrne. He has a video of the False Dots from 1984 that I'd love to get a copy of.

Recalling the death of the Queen Victoria

I was thinking about the passing of the Queen and I recalled a conversation I had a very long time ago, when I was a small child. My sister befriended a very old lady who lived up the road from us in Millway. Her son Robert had been a submarine commander in World War one. My sister would sit and chat to her for hours, enjoying lectures on etiquette and how to be a young lady. I would sometimes accompany her, under strict instructions to say nothing and behave myself.  

She would serve us tea in china cups and explain the history of the stuffed cats and ebony elephants that decorated her front room. She had been a resident of Millway since her house was built, which I believe was in the 1920's. She would recall the days of the Queen Victoria, when Great Britain was the primary power on the world stage and the sun never set on the empire. By todays standards and values, her political views would be seen to be quite unpleasant, but in the context of her age and upbringing, in the 1960's he was simply viewed as a 'bit eccentric'. She was someone who believed that things should be done properly. I have no idea how old she was, but I think her son was in his late 60's.

I can't recall what the event was that started the conversation, but the one thing she said to me that I've always recalled was her description of the mourning for Queen Victoria in 1901. She explained that when she died, the nation went into shock. The majority of the population of London would have heard by word of mouth or by newspaper headlines. There was no radio or TV to broadcast the news. There were no PA systems, so town criers, chaps with loud voices would issue proclaimations. Local Councils and authorities posted posters detailing events and the newspapers would have sobre, stoic headlines.

The Churches filled as memorial services were held.  Like Elizabeth, Victoria had been an ever present feature in the life of the nation for the lifetime of most people. Britain had changed beyond recognition in her life. The railways had made the nation accessible, trade boomed and ordinary people could move beyond the hamlets they lived in. Seaside towns boomed as the seaside became a place to spend holidays or days out. The railways had three classes, with the working class using third class carriages, with hard bench seats. Electrical telegraphy had developed and there was an extensive network, which allowed news to travel quickly. The Royal Mail had also developed and the population wrote letters to keep in touch. Perhaps the most famous of all stamps was the Penny Black, which had the face of Queen Victoria on the front. Post boxes bore the legend VR, coins also had the Queens face, so everyone had some idea what she looked like. 

Homes, schools, churches, pubs and clubs all had pictures of the Queen on the wall. Most of these would have been grainy and faded, as the Queen had been around such a long time. In most, the Queen cut a sombre image, having been in mourning since her husband died in 1861. Much of the population had only known the Queen in mourning. Her consort, Prince Albert had been a jolly soul. He proposed the building of the Albert Hall, as a focus for great cultural events. By the time it was completed, he'd been buried a decade. The era was successful for Great Britain economically. When the Queen passed, nice, shiny pictures of the new King replaced them. It seemed to many that this signified the new era. 

Like King Charles III, Victoria's successor had a very long wait to take the throne. King Edward VII. After the sombre years of Victoria's widowhood, the new King was an altogether more entertaining character. Perhaps his biggest achievement was the Entente Cordial with France, ruling out war between the nations and securing the alliance that ultimately defeated Adolf Hitler. 

My elderly neighbour felt that the Edwardian era was the finest in British history. We had a Monarch who was liked, the country was successful and growing and it seemed that war was a thing of the past. Although the country was sad to see the death of Victoria, there was a general feeling that the new King would lead the nation to greater things.

It is interesting to consider contrast, of how the period of Elizabeths reign saw a massive decline in the UK's power and prestige internationally, although ordinary people's lives are far more comfortable and as a nation we are prosperous. Whereas many viewed Edward as a breath of fresh air and were hopeful of the prospects of his new reign, I suspect many don't even consider Charles becoming King as in any way relevant to the UK's prospects as a nation. All we realistically hope is that he'll be a jolly chap who doesn't embarrass us. It would be wonderful if Charles III could fix our broken relationship with Europe. 

When I had the conversation about here death and the way it changed the nation, I was unaware of the assasination attempts against Victoria. I was unaware of the antipathy of many in Ireland to her as a result of the famine. It seems bizarre that Queen Victoria was the grandmother of Kaiser Wilhelm, the last German emperor, who lead Germany into war with the UK. When Victoria became Queen, she was single. It would seem bizarre to note that as a single woman, even though she was probably the most powerful person in the world, she had to live with her mother until she was married. I for one am glad that times have moved on. 

One interesting thing I recall from the conversation was the old lady's comment. She said "I suppose that when Her Majesty the Queen passes away, we will all watch it on Television and we will not see the crowds that we saw for Victoria". It just shows how you can be completely right and completely wrong at the same time.  

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 - Today is the last day to object to the planning appeal -Please email the planning inspectorate

Please email- your help is needed. The applicant has lodge an appeal with the planning inspectorate

Please Email north1@planninginspectorate.gov.uk quoting  APP/N5090/W/22/3298962 Ref: 20/4241/FUL - stating that you object to the facility and you believe all of the objections and the reasons for the council declining the application are valid.

This application has been PENDING since September 2020. As a reminder, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗚𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗕𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗦𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗠𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

The plan was rejected by Barnet Council's planning committee, however an appeal has been lodged.

The Mill Hill Preservation Society notes that the applicant has chosen to measure itself against Natural England’s Biodiversity Metric 2.0 that was in fact superseded by a more rigorous metric 3.0 in July 2021.

MHPS has written to the Council highlighting this misleading submission and reiterating our previous objections (see our post of 30/9/20). MHPS continues to believe that there is no justification for this as a suitable location for a battery storage system that would be better located alongside an actual renewable energy installation, preferably on a brownfield site. The applicant admitted at the meeting that the main reason for their application was because an installation on a nature reserve is far cheaper and more convenient for them.

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Note: This message was posted on the Mill Hill Preservation Society Facebook page

The Barnet Eye has been following this story since the news broke. Our most read blog of 2020 was one featuring an impassioned speech by local wildlife expert Samuel Levy. We are pleased that we played a major part in creating awareness and getting objections from local residents. If you havent' seen Samuel's video, please watch it now. This explains why this development should be rejected.

The Saturday List #359 - Ten things that changed this week

 They say that a week is a lifetime in Politics. A week ago, we had a Queen and Boris Johnson was Prime Minister and Thomas Tuchel was the boss of Chelsea. That seems like a lifetime ago. Whatever Liz Truss thought she'd be doing today, I doubt she thought she'd be chatting to King Charles III today. Her appointment as Prime Minister was perhaps the least surprising event. I've never known a week like it. I honestly thought that the big news this week was Chelsea's sacking of Tuchel, that's what I thought the Mill Hill Boys would be discussing at our Friday night curry at the Mill Hill Tandoori.

I thought that this warrented a list for posterity. Here are the ten things that changed,

1. Boris Johnson resigned as PM.

2. Liz Truss was formally recognised as Prime Minister by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II.

3. The four great seats of office were announced and for the first time ever, there was not a white man amongst them.

4. Chelsea sack Thomas Tuchel, Champions League winner. 

5. Graham Potter resigned as Manager of Brighton FC.

6. He Majesty Queen Elizabeth passed away.

7. King Charles III becomes king.

8. Prince William becomes the Prince of Wales.

9. The Football Association cancels all Football in England and Wales for the weekend.

10. The Francis Crick institute announces that they've discovered how air pollution causes cancer.

I suspect that you were reading through the list and nodding, perhaps thinking "this guy is too interested in football", thinking "I know all of this", etc. And then you got to point ten. In some ways, this will be the most important news for many of us. This is a crucial breakthrough and hopefully one that will save a lot of lives and alleviate a lot of suffering. So in this tumultious week, when many things were thrown into chaos, there is some very good news. As someone living with cancer, I follow the subject and am always delighted with good news. I daresay that in 50 years time, the events of this week will still be discussed, however this will not be mentioned. Hopefully though the practical effects of it will be the real legacy of the week. 

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in the Borough of Barnet

 I thought it fitting to put together a blog to mark the passing of Her Majesty featuring some of her local visits. 

Lets start with the only time I've been in her presence. As an ex RAF officer, my Dad was invited to this and somehow managed to wangle me a ticket. I muts confess that as a nine year old, I was more interested in the planes!

Queen Elizabeth II opening the Royal Air Force Museum, Hendon, on November 15th 1972. pic.twitter.com/09g82HxMRJ

— NW London TimeMachine (@time_nw) September 8, 2022

This is my favourite picture of Her Majesty. Although not in Barnet, Wembley is only a mile or two down the road! It all seemed possible then.

The BSFL is deeply saddened to hear of the passing of Her Majesty The Queen, Elizabeth II.

Our thoughts and condolences are with The Royal Family and everyone around the world mourning the loss of Her Majesty. pic.twitter.com/ZWJOS4yWNQ

— Barnet Sunday Football League (@BarnetLeague) September 8, 2022

Myself and Her Majesty are/were both big fans of the amazing work of the North London Hospice

Wishing Her Majesty The Queen a very happy 96th birthday today. As Britain's first multi faith hospice, we were honoured to receive a visit from Queen Elizabeth shortly after the opening of our Finchley site almost 30 years ago.#QueenElizabeth #PlatinumJubilee #NorthLondon pic.twitter.com/ZeXaEWP5oe

— North London Hospice (@NLondonHospice) April 21, 2022

Her Majesty also opened the Peel Centre in Hendon

Her Majesty the Queen opens the Peel Centre, Hendon Police College in 1974 pic.twitter.com/741r3dlBm1

— Inside Mill Hill (@InsideMillHill) September 9, 2022

A youthful Queen here meets the Mill Hill Swimming team. What a great picture!

The Queen shakes hands with D.G.Owen, captain of the Mill Hill Swimming Team, July 1957. pic.twitter.com/fRQBJeh8iF

— Flashbak.com (@aflashbak) July 1, 2015

When she was still a Princess, she visited the Drapers homes in Mill Hill

As our Patron Her Majesty The Queen celebrates her 95th birthday, we look back to when she toured our Mill Hill estate, London in April 1948.

From everyone at retailTRUST we wish you a very Happy Birthday Your Majesty. #QueensBirthday pic.twitter.com/TIqTmO8aas

— Retail Trust (@retail_trust) April 21, 2021

She also graced Edgware with a visit on her 90th Birthday

Happy birthday, Ma'am! Remembering the Queen's visit to Edgware as she celebrates her 90th https://t.co/QBpAggVPhD pic.twitter.com/1Xb3113zfx

— Hillingdon (@HillingdonRR) April 25, 2016

And how about this great picture of Her Majesty at the Golders Green Empire

#royal #flashback Nov 28, 1962 - The Queen Elizabeth II in the foyer of the Golders Green Empire, where she is attending a scout's Gang Show, London pic.twitter.com/XsYb3wmRzE

— Mace (@RoyaleVision) November 28, 2017

And here is a video of her opening the RAF Museum

RIP Queen Elizabeth II

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The truth about the energy price rip off

 The British public is being royally ripped off by energy companies at the moment and it seems that no one wants to say a dickie bird about it. The new PM Liz Truss has announced a series of measures, but there are many questions that should be being asked that are not. Here are a few points.

1. Price of gas. We are told that the price of gas is driving the huge price rises. We are also told that the UK gets around 7% of it's gas from Russia. Let's work this through. The UK does not have a constant demand for energy throughout the year. In the Winter, we need far more light and heat. The UK ships in extra gas when demand outstrips regular supply. It is highly unlikely that we've burned any Russian gas this summer at all. The 7% will be an average estimate, if it's a mild winter it's less, if it's harsh its more (of course with spot markets, much of this will be us source getting the gas from the cheapest available source). I am not an expert in energy procurement, but I would expect the large companies to have long term deals to source gas. Ryanair has said that they can keep flight costs low as they have successfully hedged their energy costs and bought in advance. Given that energy is a fundamental, surely the UK's gas suppliers should do this for all but the most unexpected of excess demands? If they've already bought the energy on long term deals, they are fleecing us. If they have not, they have exposed the UK to risk and they should be nationalised.

2. Price of electricity. 

Ever wondered how the UK produces it's electricity? Well you can find out in almost real time!

We are generataing 52% of our electricty from gas right now (08/09/2022). Around 23% is renewable sources. Nuclear is around 17%. So you can see how gas may influence the price of electricty, but much of this is predictable. Homes and businesses require stability above all other things. Again, we have to ask how much of this energy is produced from sources on long term contracts at fixed prices. If the answer is not "just about all of it" something has gone wrong. Of course, some might say "well when the market lowers prices, you don't complain", but the current situation has shown that if we are at the mercy of markets, we have no security at all.

3. Who is making the money?

This is an easy one. Just look at the share price of BP. A year ago, it was around 300p. Now it is around 50% more. This means that BP is worth half as much again as it was a year ago. If you'd invested two million quid in BP shares a year ago, you'd be sitting on a profit of a million pounds! If you are living in a mansion and your energy bills have doubled, but you are a BP shareholder, you are still quids in. Shell has also seen similar gains, up from around 1400 a year ago to 2270 today. It may or may not suprise you to learn that Liz Truss used to work for Shell. She clearly is well versed in all of the arguments why windfall taxes are a bad idea. The better off you are, the more likely you are to have energy stocks in your portfolio, directly as a shareholder or indirectly through a pension plan. Those at the bottom of the pile, those who are hardest hit by the crisis have no shares or pension pots to insulate them. 

Sadly we don't live in a nation where the finances of ordinary people are considered when the government makes decisions.

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