Tomorrow the people of Barnet go to the polls to elect a new council. Just a little history recap. Between 1994 and 2002, Barnet was governed by a Labour/Lib Dem coalition. In 2002, the Conservatives got in and held power until 2022. Labour have governed since 2022. Apart from 2010, council elections have not taken place at the same time as general elections. This is interesting to me, because what we see is that people have used the council elections to punish unpopular national governments. When the Lab/Lib Dem coalition got in in 1994, the Tories thought Barnet was blue through and through. However John Major's government was at a low point and Barnet fell. In 1997, Labour won and the Blair government were still in a honeymoon period in 1998. Labour got in. In 2002, Labour were unpopular and the Tories got in. Labour were even more unpolular in 2006 and 2010. In 2014, Labour were in chaos, as they were in 2018. Barnet being an area with a large Jewish community did poorly, during the Momentum era locally. By 2022, The Tories had shown themselves nationally to be useless, they were in Freefall and got hammered.
And on to 2026. Tomorrow. If we followed the normal convention, Labour are hugely unpopular. History dictates that the Tories should romp home. But, no one had forgiven them for their incompetence. Barnet has always been a key indicator council. However, this time, it is an outlier. Nationally the rise of Reform has been a massive factor. They will make huge gains. As have the Green party. However Barnet is a strongly Remain area. Furthermore, the local Jewish population is very unimpressed with the Greens and their stance on anti semitism and support for the Jewish community.
So my prediction is that despite everything, the Tories will be back in. I think that if the Lib Dems had run a serious campaign, they may have taken some wards, but as I think the Greens and Reform may find out, a lack of trust in the Jewish community makes it very hard to win in Barnet.
I jist re-read the blog I posted before the last elections. I was a candidate, so I felt constrained as to what I could say. One interesting statement though was this - "I vowed that in future, I'd give my support to the party I had the best chance of delivering what I wanted to see a government or council do. Someone asked me if this meant I could ever support the Conservative Party. I thought long and hard and I realised that yes, in some circumstances I might. If it was a choice between them and the BNP I would. I hope I never have to make such a choice, but many people in France, who would never support a figure like Macron in normal times did just that. It is a grown up and sensible decision."
I have come to the conclusion that Reform are as bad as the BNP, given Nigel Farages statement about opening up concentration camps in Green voting areas.
If you vote Reform you will not have an illegal migrant deportation facility in your area.
We will hold migrants awaiting deportation in constituencies that vote Green instead.
I read this and thought to myself, what will they do with the concentration camps, designed to "process illegal immigrants" when they've all been sent home? Rather handy that they are in areas that don't like Farage. I was reminded of this
First they came for the Communists And I did not speak out Because I was not a Communist Then they came for the Socialists And I did not speak out Because I was not a Socialist Then they came for the trade unionists And I did not speak out Because I was not a trade unionist Then they came for the Jews And I did not speak out Because I was not a Jew Then they came for me And there was no one left To speak out for me
Please think very carefully before you cast your vote
I can't pretend that 2026 has been an easy year so far. I am, by nature, a positive person and an optimist. I have always believed that reasoned argument, politeness and calmness were the secret of success. Over the last few months, this has been severely tested. I always beleive in playing the long game. Of course there are times when you need short term, tactical fixes, but overall, if you are doing something worthwhile, then I believe that you develop a plan and a strategy. Where needed you take advice. You get your ducks in line, so that most reasonable scenarios are catered for. It is a principle that has served me well in life and in business. Until now. How can anyone make any plans for anything at the moment? My business? Who knows what our energy costs will be in six months time? This feeds into everything. The costs of the musical instruments that we sell have, in some cases, increase by 50% in two years. This means that if things have been knocking around the shop for a while, we sell them and if we replace them, the replacement costs at trade what we sold the old item at retail. That is not how a business can run. There is no aspect of business that is easy at the moment. My task this week was to plan a rate rise for the studios. But to quote Donald Rumsvelt, there are too many unknown unknowns. It is a large amount of work. Our largest supplier is closing down. There are great bargains to be had, but we are too nervous about the trading environment to take full advantage of the situation. I am not cautious by nature, but I am not reckless either.
What concerns me most though, is not my situation. It is the fact that just about every business I know is feeling squeezed. No one feels secure investing. No one is taking risks. We see tech billionaires making zillions, but none of this money seems to feed back into the economy. In fact most of it is not even real money. When we hear that a Zillionaire is the richest man, it is usually on the back of stock options in a company that in many case does not have a tangible worth that can be measured. A company like BP or Shell has assets, and you can see where it's money comes from. There are people who work for the company in garages etc, who are ordinary working people. I had a look at the value of Twitter/X.com.
It is now worth $44 billion. Last year it was worth $10 Billion. It hasn't got 4.4 x the number of users it had. TBH I lost interest in it. They banned me, then emailed to say I wasn't banned, but I'm still banned! I've appealed three times, been told my account is restored, but it hasn't been.
There was a time when this would have infuriated me. Now I just can't be bothered with Mr Musk and his rather unpleasant platform. I have come to the conclusion that I don't miss it.
Most of the people who posted interesting content I know have left. There are still a few who I follow who post great stuff, but there is so much nonsense and bile on the site that it is not missed. Much of the content is AI generated slop and click bait. The same is true of Facebook, where I never seem to see what my friends post, but I get all manner of slop. It seems that there is an obsession with followers, but no obsession with quality of content. I sense that many are getting bored with the whole social media concept, of banality and AI slop.
I suspect that I'd have gone insane if it wasn't for my love of music. I have spent the week listening to my favourite albums, as I struggle to cope with the insanity that prevails. As we speak, I am listening to Prehistoric Sounds by Aussie Punks The Saints. The track on is "Save Me", an Aretha Franklin cover. No AI slop, just great musicians making great records. I am lucky, I am a musician. I can make my own music, with other musician. I go and see live music all the time. It keeps me sane. I'm assuming that if you are reading this, it is because you don't want AI regurgitated slop.
Of course AI image generators are a new fad. People like being able to get a picture depicting their least favourite politician in an embarrassing way, with a loud and often ill informed slogan. The first half dozen you see are funny, but the human brain soon tires of it. AI is a tool and once we all get bored with it, it will return to being a tool on social media. Until that happens, my advice is to shut out the slop with some proper noise. Put on the music, shut your eyes and enjoy it.
And why not get out and see some live music. Such as The False Dots at Nambucca on Friday 15th May, with the Silencerz. It will be a great night! Tickets available here.
What makes me get out of bed in the morning? Well the glib answer is a cup of tea and the need to walk our dogs, but I am sure you know that is not what I was really asking. It is the fact that every day is different. Some days are wonderful, some are awful, most are days where life just passes you by. Some days I wake up with things to do, events to go to, people to meet. Sometimes there is nothing in the diary. The first thing I do is look out of the window. Is the Sun shining? Is it raining? Unlike nearly all of my neighbours, I still have a front garden. It is the first thing I see when I leave the house. It gives me inspiration and sets me up in the right frame of mind for the day. For me that is more important than being able to jump straight in my car. Even when it is raining and miserable, the garden reminds me that plants need rain.
If it is raining, that will make some of my decisions for me. The clothes I wear, the way I get to work. I rarely drive, it is a lovely walk. If the sun is shining, I take the more scenic route. This time of year, I'll often stop in Mill Hill Park and photograph the blossoms and trees, if the light is right. On such days, it is not hard to find inspiration. If it is belting down with rain, and I drive, it is hard to feel inspired. As a songwriter, I seek inspiration in the strangest of places. I was walking to work last week and I walked down Flower Lane. I used to deliver papers to people in the street. There were all sorts of people on the round. I did the round for two years and got to know many of the people. Some were nice, some were not. There were three houses in particular that I have stories about. I told one of them in yesterdays blog. I wrote a brand new song about the second story earlier this week. It's called Naughty Naughty, but you'll have to wait to learn more of that.
The third story? Slightly duller. One of the houses was that of a senior journalist. He got every paper every morning. He was the only house on the road that got the Morning Star. One day he was in the garden as I arrived. I handed him the papers and we had a chat. I asked him how he got any work done if he had to read all of those papers. I also asked him why read them, if other papers had already printed the stories. He explained that often he'd realise from reading interviews etc, that other journalists had missed a key fact, not asked the key question, etc. He'd then be on the trail and many of his scoops started in this way. I quite liked the sound of being a journalist and asked him how you got involved. He suggested that many people start on local papers and if they are any good, they progress.
I discussed this with my Dad. He knew Dennis Signy, the editor of the Hendon Times, and I suggested he could ask him about a job for me. My Dad's response was "I didn't know you could read and write". English was not my strong point at school (being dyslexic). I really had nothing other than an inkling that I might make a good journalist, certainly nothing to back it up. But Dad did arrange for me to go for a beer with him and Dennis. Dennis gave some advice. I was still at school "Get involved in the school magazine, enter writing competitions, write letters to papers and keep them and then come back when you have a body of work". Fair advice, but advice I didn't take. I found writing boring and difficult. Inspiration counts for nothing if you let it wither. Doing this blog has convinced me that I would have done a great job, but I was too lazy and stupid as a teenager to do what I needed to do. Being inspired is not enough.
Dennis told me the truth. He wasn't patronising or condescending. He made it clear that journalism was both a job and a calling and the best journalists have two qualities that I've come to realise are in short supply in this world. They tell the truth and they take risks. When we watch journalists in places like Ukraine, they are at risk. Many journalists die in the execution of their work. Many more are locked up by repressive regimes. In thecurrent Trumpite era, truth seems to be a relative than an absolute commodity. As to courage? I genuinely never thought we'd see a situation where journalistic freedoms are under threat in liberal democracies. But they are. There is a concept that has emerged over the last few years, that disturbs me greatly. It is the concept of "my truth". The idea that we can have our own version of truth, often a truth that is not backed up by evidence. Often a truth where challenging dangerous ideas and concepts is wantonly dismissed. If there is evidence that undermines "my truth" it is simply ignored. There is a whole industry based on undermining provable facts, with lies, distortions and untruths. A new tool has emerged in this. It is AI. We now have a situation where almost no picture, video or any other evidence can be treated as real. It is almost as if the whole concept of truth and reality has become obsolete. Where does this take us?
Lets take something really boring and mundane. Lets imagine that there is a wonderful, historic trout river in Somerset. A journalist hears that a water company has been discharging raw sewage into it. They go down, interview local people, take pictures and videos of dead fish and the other detritus of sewage, then interview the local MP. They contact the water company for a quote, as all decent and fair journalists do. What if the water company, on hearing about a journalist sniffing around, get their PR department to debunk the story fake news, claim the pictures and videos are AI generated. What if they invite the MP in, present their version of the truth, make donations to running the MP's office. What happens to the story? Who do we believe? Why should we believe anything?
And that leads us to the dark downside of all this. Rejection. The scenario I described above is made up. It is fake news. It is a scenario I invented in my head. It is plausable. It may even have happened, but it is fiction in as much as until I decided to construct such a story, it didn't exist (even if it really has happened). However, the scenario I described is happening every day, with the major details changed. Multinational companies employ PR departments to debunk genuine stories. MP's get donations from lobbyists to ensure that the version of the truth the companies want to be told gets told. Journalists, who have done their homework, been honest and decent and told the truth have been hounded. In the UK the story of Carole Cadwalla is a cautionary tale for all of the dangers of being a journalist. In the US, we have a President attacking whole news organisations constantly. Of all of the aspects of the Cadwalla case, the most disturbing is the complete lack of support for her from the paper she was working for.
Rejection and failure by an employer to support staff, is in my opinion, the worst form of cowardice. When the organisation that is failing is one that is supposed to be a bastion of truth, one relied on by hundreds of thousands of people for honest and fair news, it is sickening. This blog only started after a blog I wrote for the Barnet Times was dropped after the paper was put under pressure by the Tories running Barnet Council (Read about it here). The difficult thing for me, was that all I had done was told the truth and broken a story that other outlets, such as the Jewish Chronicle then picked up on. Not one iota of the of what I said was disputed or challenged. A former Chairman of the Chipping Barnet Tories even left a comment supporting me. The only regret I had was that I loved being associated with the Barnet Times. It was a lifelong ambition to write for them. I wasn't sacked because I was no good. My blog was actually the most read thing on their site, when they sacked me. I was sacked for telling the truth. A difficult truth and one that their largest advertiser (Barnet Council) didn't like. But when it comes down to it, do I regret posting a story that exposed the truth that Barnet Council had posted a video featuring anti semitic comments by a neo Nazi? No. To me, rejection was a price worth paying for telling the truth. It always will be.
This morning at mass I was in a sombre mood. In the bulletin, was the news that the father of a friend has passed away. He was a contemporary of my Dad, perhaps one of last few. His son was at St Vincents, FCHS and also an alter server with me. His parents were stalwarts of the local community. It got me thinking about my Father. I can remember discussing the Watergate scandal with him. I was fascinated by the courage and persistence of the journalists who exposed Nixon. Dad cautioned me "Being a Roman Catholic should have taught you one lesson, if you tell the truth to a baying mob, you might just get crucified". I was shocked. I said to Dad "Are you saying that we should buckle in the face of screaming mobs?". That seemed a very un-Dad thing to say. His response stuck with me. He said "No, not all, if you put yourself in that position, you have to tell the truth, but you need to go into such situations with your eyes wide open and realise what is likely to happen". He added "There is a saying, don't put your head above the parapet if you don't want to get shot. What they don't tell you though, is that if no one puts their head above the parapet, you all get bayonetted". Another lesson of the Easter season, one that is difficult to come to terms with, is that every one of the people who accompanied Jesus on his travels deserted him, when the baying mob came for him. Truth has a heavy price, but if no one has the courage to tell the truth, we are all well and truly doomed.
I'm surprised I've not covered this topic before. As regular readers will know, The False Dots released a new single recently titled "Big Hairy Spider". A mate asked me this week if I was phobic of spiders, and whether this was an inspiration. In actual fact, I am not. My sister Caroline is. Often when we were kids, I'd be woken by her screams, as she saw a spider in the bedroom. Dad would be summoned to despatch it. I don't think my Dad was scared of anything, but when we were kids, he'd entertain us with tales of snakes, spiders and all manner of other terrible things, which fed our phobias. I recall one time, I told him I was scared of the monsters on Dr Who. He replied "I can show you the scariest monster of all". He picked me up and told me to shut my eyes and not open them until he said so. He carried me up stairs and said "You can look now". I opened my eyes, to find myself looking in the mirror. He then said "People have done far worse things than animals, animals just kill to survive".
As for my sister, I used to have great fun collecting big spiders to put under her bed. My brother used to collect earwigs and put them on my pillow, telling me that they'd climb in your ear and eat your brain. I'm not scared of them either. When I figured out what he was doing, I'd just check the bed every night and put them in his bed. To the best of my knowledge, his brain is still intact. So what are my fears and phobias?
1. Snakes. I can't stand them. If I see one I feel sick. I do blame my Dad and his tales of brown snakes in the outback of Australia for this. Living in London, I only come across them in zoos usually, so it is a bit of an odd fear.
2. Ragworms. When I was a kid, I used to like fishing. We went to Brighton pier. Dad bought a bag of Ragworms as bait. What I didn't know is that they have massive jaws and bite. They are also very ugly critters and do not take kindly to being stuck on fishing hooks. Dad was most disappointed with me, as I wouldn't go near them. I think that was the last time we went fishing.
3. The 221 bus through Finchley. For nearly five years, I took the 221 bus from Mill Hill to Finchley to school. I hated my time there. I didn't realise how much until I went to Orange Hill. It was far more relaxed and there were girls. I felt Finchley Catholic was like being in prison. I loved my mates and a few of the teachers, but it was really oppressive. For years, if I got the 221 I got a deep feeling of unease as we approached the Avondale Avenue stop, where we'd disembark. I have got over this, My son went there and I had to face up to it. The school has changed. Oddly, I had less problems going to the school than I did going on the bus.
4. Borehamwood. For many years I was terrified of going to Borehamwood. There was a very simple reason for this. When I was about five, my sister Valerie took me to Burnt Oak market. As we got the bus back, a 292 came along, with the destination of Borehamwood. She said we shouldn't get the bus. I asked why. She said that it was going to Borehamwood, rather than Mill Hill. I asked her what Borehamwood was like. She said "They don't like people from Mill Hill, if you go there, they will all come out and throw tomatoes at you". I believed her and had a fear of the place for a very long time. I can say I've overcome this one, and never had a tomato thrown at me when I visited.
5. Mushrooms. I used to get a comic called "TV Action" when I was a kid. There was a competition to design a monster for a Dr Who story in the comic. The winner designed a monster called an Ugrakk. It looked a bit like a squid crossed with an elephant. They were a fungus and could control other mushrooms. I'd been fond of mushrooms until then. It put me right off mushrooms for many years.
6. A woman who lived on my paper round in Flower Lane. When I was 14 I started doing a paper round for Vernons newsagents on Station Road. There was one house I delivered papers to and the people were lovely, but they had a daughter, who was about 20 years old and was horrible. She'd look out of the window and as I delivered the papers, she'd open the door and shout at me. The papers were always late, creased, wet, something. It got to the stage where I'd develop a strategy to get them through the door without her catching me. At Xmas, we'd always go around an knock on doors for an Xmas box. I decided I would not bother with her house. It seemed futile. As I walked past, the Dad saw me. He'd seen me knocking on the other doors, as he was washing cars. When he realised I was not knocking on his house he called me over. He asked why. I explained that I thought they were unhappy because his daughter was always telling me off. He looked embarrassed and said "No, you do fine, she's just a bit unhappy". He gave me a fiver, which was a huge amount. I used to see her in the cafe's in Mill Hill until about ten years ago. She'd always scowl at me. I have no idea why she disliked me. Mind you she was horrible to my mate who took the round over as well.
7. Trees. Of all the irrational fears, this is perhaps the most irrational. When I was about 18, a mate suggested that a group of us take magic mushrooms. Apparently these would open my eyes to the beauty of the world. It was a warm, sunny November day. Everything looked lovely. We went up to Moat Mount, to clown around. Everything was magical, until the sun went down. Then I noticed that the trees seemed malicious. I could hear them saying to me, telepathically "You are the enemy. We will be around long after the last human has gone". I have had a mild aversion to being in the company of trees at night ever since. It is always at the back of my mind that they hate us! I must say that it rather put me off such substances. I told a mate who is a hippy and loves such things. He said "Yeah trees have split personalities, they are happy in the sunshine, but really nasty at night". Make of it what you will.
8. Graveyards at night. I went to St Judes on the Hill last night. I had to walk past Golders Green Crematorium and Hoop Lane Cemetary. I've never seen a ghost at a cemetary, but I always feel a sense of forboding. I guess that we only ever really visit cemetaries when we are sad, so it isn't completely irrational.
9. Swimming. When I was four years old, I fell in the deep end at Butlins and nearly drowned. After that I was terrified of water. I got clobbered by teachers several times for refusing to participate in swimming lessons. I would have panic attacks. I'd bunk off school if I knew one was scheduled. I believed it was something I could not do. Then when I was 16, there was a girl I rather liked who was a keen swimmer. I decided that I had to learn. I went to Copthall Pool and taught myself. I am not a great swimmer, but I was functional. The whole thing scarred me so deeply, that I ensured my kids could swim a length by the time they were three. I wanted them to be able to get to the side and not panic if they fell in. My Eldest Daughter was a National Swimming Champion, so I guess something good came out of it.
10. My ex girlfriends flat mate. Many years ago, I went out with a georgeous girl who had a flat in Hendon. Her flatmate was a large girl, who was very sexually active and let say her morals were not those of a nun. One day, when I wasn't working and my girlfriend was, she came into the bedroom with a cup of tea. She was dressed seductively and made it clear that she was interested in some action. Now I always try and be polite, but there were many reasons why I was not interest. I liked my girlfriend, I knew her boyfriend and I didn't find her attractive being near the top of my list. She was quite persistant, but I managed to extracate myself from the situation quite diplomatically. However, at every opportunity, she made it clear that the offer was there whenever I wanted to take it up. I found it rather intimidating and I did everything I could to avoid being alone with her. What really perturbed me was I think she realised and took great relish in catching me in various situations and invading my personal space whenever possible. If anyone ever tells you a heterosexual man will always succumb if offered they are offered some slap and tickle with no consequences, I can assure you it isn't true. She ended up dating two ex members of my band at the same time and the situation ended pretty badly for all concerned. At the time, I actually thought that my girlfriend had set the situation up to see if I was the unfaithful type. Subsequent events made me realise this wasn't the case.
I have managed to connquer all of them, apart from the first two and I suspect the last, although I've niot had any contact with her for decades! I don't really have any desire to overcome my fear of snakes or Ragworms. I must add that I had mushrooms for breakfast and they were delicious.
Anyway, I'll dedicate this to my sister Caro and her dislike of Spiders. This is The False Dots latest single, Big Hairy Spider.
You may have noticed that I've not been as active as usual on the blog. Real life has been getting in the way! We went to Bristol to see my elder brother Frank and celebrate his 80th Birthday, a real milestone. It is quite interesting to note Frank (and his twin brother Laurie) are the first year of the Baby Boomers. I was born in the second last year, sixteen years later. My Dad was still in the RAF when they were born. London was littered with bombsites, there was rationing. Families did not have tellies, dishwashers, central heating, telephones or microwaves. Home entertainment was either newspapers, books, musical instruments or the radio. Schools were very different places. My brothers arrived at St Vincents School as 4 year olds. My mum had walked up with them from their council house on Wise Lane. They were dropped off and were immediately naughty. Their teacher, Miss O'Donovan got the cane out and they ran and hid behind the piano. Eventually, the caretaker was summoned to extract them. They managed to swerve out and escaped, arriving home before 11am. They informed Mum that they didn't like school and weren't going back. Sadly, for them, they had to and they had to face the ire of Miss O'Donovan. Much has changed, four year olds are not caned and such an escape would prompt a major incident.
As they grew older, they developed a love of music. When they asked my Dad to buy them guitars, he told them to build them, which they did. Both are natural musicians, far more gifted than me. When I was small, the biggest joy in life was listening to them jamming the skiffle songs of Lonnie Donegan and others. Frank got married when I was five and moved to Chelmsford to start a family, two years later his son Martin appeared. I was most exited. The age gap between Martin and I was seven years, less than half the gap to Frank. Frank loved football and got me interested in the game. In 1968, he tried to persuade me to support Manchester United. I plumped for City, my Mums team. This started a lifetime of good humoured banter. Laurie was not into sports. He considered them a waste of energy. He was always very into music though.. In 1968, Laurie played me the album Sailor by The Steve Miller Band and confidently informed me it was the best record ever made. A view I firmly believed until I discovered Punk Rock. As I have matured, I still believe it is in the top five. Laurie left home at 13 to study to be a Priest with the Mill Hill Missionary Order. In our family, he was considered a living saint, Mum and Dad's free ticket through the pearly gates. His education was away from home in places like Freshfields in Lancashire and Rosendaal in the Netherlands. Although Laurie lost his faith and vocation before he was ordained, he has always told me his education was amazing. Studying abroad gave him excellent language skills. I suspected that he chose that route to get away from Challoner School and the attentions of headmaster Daniel Coughlan, a notoriously vicious character.
Frank left shortly after to go to Finchley Grammar School. Frank got good O Levels and A Levels and went to University to study electronics. He has had a long career as a Rocket Scientist. In the mid 1970's, he had a spell running the family business, car crash repairers Mac Metals in Bunns Lane. He did a good job, but it wasn't really his thing. He did however learn vital management skills and when he returned to electronics, he managed large teams, working on such projects as The Space Shuttle and Giotto. Laurie set up a welding business, that continues to this day, called Bunns Lane Welding. Laurie is a highly skilled welder and is one of the few people in London to be able to fix alloy wheels.
I find it hard to believe both are 80 years old. I can remember, as a four year old, the excitement of their 21st Birthday Party. Both of them have played a massive role in my life. Both encouraged me musically and have supported me in developing the studios, on the industrial estate the family own. Both are very different but highly intelligent and have, over the years, given me much sound advice. As a sibling sixteen years younger, they are both good role models. If you met them, you would not recognise them as twins, but if you heard them jam a track, you'd see the link.
I find it fascinating to see the different mindsets of the top and tail of the Boomer generation. They were born into a country in the height of austerity, I was born into a country rushing into the swinging sixties. Frank told me that he lost his faith when the Church started saying mass in English rather than Latin, when he actually understood what was being said, he decided it was a load of mumbo jumbo. Apart from when I was very small, English was always the language for me. I've never quite figured if I was more effectively brainwashed than my brothers, or I saw things as they were and figured it differently. Who knows?
I notice that many of our attitudes about issues are markedly different. I suspect that the punk rock generation are far more cynical about many things and we have a very different relationship with authority and the status quo. As for my brothers, I see a big difference in the way they see the world. I put some of this down to the fact Laurie lives in London and Frank lives in Bristol. Another factor is that Laurie has run a small business, whereas Frank worked on massive projects for huge companies. What they both have in common is their loyalty and love for their nuclear families. Having children is a massive challenge and they've both done an amazing job with their children.
What I find difficult to get my head around is that their next keynote birthday should they make it will be their 90th! A date beyond what my Mum, Dad or any of their siblings reached. We are lucky, their are six of us and we are all still here. I see Laurie almost every day at work, Frank once or twice a year. Many things have changed, but whilst they are still around, I feel the world is a better place.
Yesterday, I was pulled up by a friend who is local member of the Jewish community in Mill Hill. He was extremely cross with me. Yesterday, I did a slot at around 12.10 on Eddie Nestor's mid morning show on BBC Radio London. The feature is called Trends at 12. Just before my slot, the news broke about the awful attacks in Golders Green. I was actually at my brothers house in Bristol, celebrating is 80th Birthday. What happens is that you get a call a few minutes before your slot. I had pre-prepared topics to discuss and I wasn't aware of the story or the details. Eddie didn't ask me about it and the slot was cut short due to the importance of the story. However my friend was very cross at me. He said "You are a local community leader, you have the most read blog in Barnet, you stood for council in areas with large Jewish areas on several occasions and you were on a London Radio show and the silence was deafening on the attack. You have a view one everything else, but you couldn't say one word on an unprovoked attack on two innocent Jewish Barnet residents". I was quite taken aback at the anger in his voice. I completely understood what he was saying. The subtext of what he was saying is that I really wasn't too bothered about the whole thing.
My reply? I told him that I was unaware of the news before I went on the air, I didn't know any of the details as it was a breaking story and Eddie cut me short as I was about to say something. I added that I would post a blog this morning on the subject to make my views 100% clear. I don't think he accepted my explanation and stated that he would be interested to see what I had to say. So here it is.
Any attack on anyone walking down the street in the UK is deplorable. There can never, ever be any justification for attacking a stranger. When the motivation is because they belong to an identifyable ethnic minorty, such as a member of the Jewish community is clearly a deplorable racist attack and no one can ever justify it in any circumstances. There can be no whataboutery in this matter. The police must take whatever actions they can to prevent such attacks, as is possible in a liberal democracy such as the UK.
I don't know the details of this case. I don't know if there were any red flags or whether it was just a dangerous individual with mental health issues. It seems to me that in many previous cases, there was intelligence that could have prevented the attack. If this is the case in this instance, then the Met must learn the lessons. It has been suggested that elements within the Iranian regime are fermenting such incidents. If this is the case, then clearly we should take the actions that we take when our citizens are at threat from hostile foreign governments. If this means expelling diplomats or deporting non UK nationals, then this should be done. Clearly the Police also need to act on intellgence, if it is clear that UK nationals are involved in planning organised terror attacks against the Jewish comminity.
That is only half of the problem. The other half is well demonstrated that a friend who I've known for years felt so let down by me. When a community is under attack, the members of that community should receive support from across the whole community. The local Jewish community is a massive part of my life and always has been. Just a few examples. I went to Orange Hill Senior High School and maybe half of my friends their were Jewish, one of my first girlfriends was Jewish, the drummer in our band was Jewish, one of our vocalists was Jewish, we played some of our first gigs at the Jewish Youth Club in Kenton, where he was a member. A member of the Mill Hill Music Festival Organising Committee is Jewish, we've organised events at the local Shul. Many of the customers of my business are Jewish, we have Jewish members of staff. In short, the Jewish community is and always has played a massive, positive role in my life.
Until very recently I never gave things a second thought. I could write similar things about many local communities, Irish, West Indian, Asian, etc. I've never given a thought to such matters until very recently. But it is the Jewish community who are under the cosh at the moment and as someone who has been identified as a community leader, I have to speak out. I have to state, unequivocably, that I stand with the local Jewish Community at this time and I am not blind to the issues they face.
There can be no doubt that global issues are being used by some to pour petrol on the fire of anti semitic hate. It would be dishonest to pretend otherwise. But NOTHING can justify anyone performing acts of random violence against members of any community in our society. ANYONE who is planning acts that terrorise and scare members of any community should attract the full force of the UK legal system.
Whatever you may think about events anywhere in the world, if you think that attacking random people, who you don't know is the solution, then you are the problem. It is as simple as that. I hope that this sets the record straight with regards to my friend.
Many years ago I was chatting with an esteemed philosopher, a man far more intelligent than myself or anyone else I've ever met. He asked me a pretty fundamental question "Do you believe you actually exist?". It wasn't a questiul ul on that I had considered at all. Ever. My glib answer was "Well of course I exist, because I wouldn't be stitting here with you having this conversation". He persisted "But how do you know any of this is real?". Maybe it is all justa figment of your imagination. Maybe, you are somewhere else completely, with no eyes, no ears and just a vibrant imagination and you've constructed a massive fantasy". I responded "I am sure if that was true, it would be far less mundane and I'd be leading the life of James Bond, rather than painting window frames in the rain in Golders Green (my job at the time). Although the good professor was fascinated by the nature of existence, I wasn't at all and I am not sure I am now. However truly intelligent people have spent their whole life agonising over the meaning of life and existence, why we are all here and what is the purpose of this journey. My problem with this is that the time I spend worrying whether all of this is the figment of my imagination and I am really in a coma in hospital ward imagining it all, or just a few lines of code in Gods massive AI generator, is time I could far more productively spend playing my guitar and writing new tunes for the bands next album.
The good professor was most disappointed with my lack of curiosity about the nature of existence. He knows my eldest brother who could hypothesise for hours on such matters and enjoys such discussions. This weekend I was at the wedding of a friends daughter. It was a wonderful event. Lots of people gathered together having a marvellous time. As is my want, I ate and drank far too much and today I was rather tired as we travelled back on the train today. I love trains as you get time to think. I started to think about the good professor and his fascination with the nature of existence. That conversation was nearly fifty years ago. I started to wonder if I'd have answered the question in a different way if we had the conversation now (not a possibility as the professor has passed away). I think I'd still be a massive disappointment. If anything, I am even less interested now than I was then in such questions. My defective dyslexic brain can only deal with tangible concepts. I am fascinated with minutae of recordings by punk rock bands fiftey years ago. I can spend hours discussing the sociological impact of music on society and how rock and roll has redefined the world. I am fascinated by the way the collision of Punk and Reggae in 1977 tore up all of the old rules of music and popular culture and gave rise to a completely different type of music, clothing, writing and art. Subjects I am sure the good professor would find banal beyond belief, but that is what excites me. But I did start wondering about whether, should the professor be correct and all of this is a figment of my imagination, why so much of what I've invented in my head is so utterly crap. Why invent all of the people who annoy me? Why don't England ever win the World Cup? Why don't my dead mates magically come back to life? Why has the dog become incontinent? The only reasonable explanation is that I am a figment of someone else's imagination and they don't like me. Some friends have become very animated about the concept that we all live in the Matrix, a huge computer simulation and they constantly seek glitches. My problem with this is I worked in commercial IT for 37 years and if we were living in a computer simulation, then surely all of the code I had to fix in those years would have been properly written if are all just in an AI simulation on the Matrix.
And then I got around to the basic question "Why are we all here?". If we are not and we are all just the musings of a giant brain in jar of junk, it is actually quite reassuring. If that is true, there is nothing to worry about, is there? But then again, next time my daughters train is delayed and she is late home, or Donald Trump starts another war and I start fretting, I will realise that sadly if it is all a big simulation, it is not one we are supposed to enjoy. If we really all are just bits and bytes in a big computer, if it doesn't want us to know, it will simply delete our RAM when we start to figure it all out. Maybe that's why the dinosaurs disappeared!
My philosophy is rather simple and rather dull. Enjoy the good times and in the bad times keep the faith that it is just a passing phase. Whether it is all real or not is actually pretty irrelevant.
I’m cream cracked! My week? Sunday we had a barbecue with friends & family to mark the closing of Boucherie Gerard, my favourite ever butcher. I will write a separate blog at some point about Gerard, but it was an excuse to enjoy the garden in the Sun. Then we watched Man City beat Arsenal. Too much alcohol was imbibed. Monday? I met with an old boss and a mate from the world of IT, for a beer and then a curry at The Great Nepalese in Eversholt St. Ashwin, my old boss has had a few health issues, so it was great to catch up. Afterwards, I had a band rehearsal. I’d also started to come down with a lurgy. Tuesday, I had meetings at Mill Hill Setvices Club, including a new members meeting, where we welcomed six new members. More beers were had. Wednesday, met up with another group of ex IT workmates and an ex boss.We went to Jamon Jamin Tapas bar off Charing Cross Road. An ex colleague Karen generously bought dinner as she’s just been made redundant. She was delighted and will retire with a big pay off! Needless to say more alcohol was drunk. Last night, the False Dots performed at a St George’s night function at The Mill Hill Services Club, raising money for the Royal British Legion. It was a great night and much beer was drunk. This morning we got a train to Chester, it’s a mates daughters wedding up here tomorrow. We are having drinks & dinner tonight. I normally have three days off the booze a week. To quote Frank Sinatra ‘Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention’
I guess everyone goes into politics dreaming of leaving a golden legacy of success. But you can only achieve success with power. This was brought home to me last night. I was having a beer with my ex boss. He shocked us all by announcing that he had been considering standing as a candidate for Reform in Colchester. He has always been a Conservative, but I never had him down as a reformer. He explained that he was very tempted as he believed that they have an excellent chance of winning Colchester Council and he fancied the opportuinity to run it and sort the problems in the Council out. It was nothing to do with their politics, it was access to power. What disturbed me most though, is that I know he is excellent at whatever he does, a superb boss, and I'd have put money on him doing a brilliant job running the finances. The conversation turned to Barnet. Another friend at the booze up is a Barnet resident and a Labour supporter. He was waxing lyrical about the achievements of Barnet Labour. I had to disagree, but he was claiming Barnet Council had been turned around and more potholes than ever had been fixed.
The sad truth is that Labour have not fixed the council and as far as I am concerned, their reign has been northing short of a disaster. On the night they won, Leader Barry Rawlings invited me to help formulate a culture strategy. Within a month I'd drafted one and circulated it to councillors and officers. I don't think any read it. Their vision was different. They believed the route to success was to employ expensive consutants, rather than follow my model of building a council of local arts organisations and building a collaborative network. My solution was almost zero cost and would have exploited all of the energy and efforts of people already doing good work. The abject failure of their efforts is best demonstrated by the failure to stage the Borough's biggest festival, The East Barnet Festival in an election year. My focus is always on arts, but across the Borough there is discontent. A terrible scheme in Edgware, albiet a legacy of the Tory regime, but one mired in failure. Labour promised to address the mess that is the Railway Hotel in Edgware. There was talk of a compulsory purchase order. Nothing has been done. Council taxes have gone up, services have not improved. I've not seen a leaflet from Labour in Mill Hill to see what they think they've done well. They do however have a website. Here is there manifesto
Labour launches ‘Ambitious for Barnet’ Manifesto
Barnet Labour have launched their manifesto for the local elections: ‘Ambitious for Barnet’ which sets out our programme to continue to improve services, our roads, pavements and green spaces, back the environment and support those struggling with the cost of living.
Council Leader, Labour’s Councillor Barry Rawlings said:
“The Conservatives ran Barnet on the snooze button for 20 years, with no real vision for the borough, and left a legacy of cuts, depleted reserves and run-down services.
“Labour has been ambitious for Barnet, delivering a far-reaching programme.
“That’s why we’ve filled over 16,500 potholes – 61 per cent more than the Conservatives managed when they were in power, upgraded and expanded a CCTV system that was broken more than half the time when the Conservatives were in charge, planted nearly 5,000 trees, improved or re-built 20 playgrounds and secured 1,000 new council homes.
“We have delivered this and much more, while keeping council tax lower than all our neighbours.
“We will continue to be ambitious in a second term, campaigning for our high streets, continuing to clamp down on crime and anti-social behaviour and building new affordable homes.”
As part of the Barnet Labour’s Manifesto, we are making six key pledges.
1) Keep Barnet Moving: We will aim to cut roadworks times by 20 percent by charging extra penalties to dawdling utility companies for working too slowly.
2) Keep Barnet Green: We will protect our green spaces, plant 4,000 more trees and create a ‘Regional Park’, making even more green space accessible.
3) Keep Barnet Safe and Clean: We will continue to crack down on crime, anti-social behaviour, fly-tipping and litter to keep Barnet safe and clean by using our upgraded CCTV system with tougher enforcement and higher fines, whilst protecting the free community skips service.
4) A More Affordable Barnet: We will secure a further 1,000 social rent homes, having already secured the delivery of 1,000 new council homes in our first term.
5) A Healthier Barnet: We will campaign for greater powers to stop the increase of gambling arcades and fast-food shops.
6) Keep Delivering Value for Money: We will always prioritise finding efficiencies and savings to keep costs down, ensuring council tax increases are minimised.
Councillor Rawlings added:
“These are difficult financial times and, unlike the Conservatives, who cut half of Barnet’s funding, we have worked with the Government to secure £37million more for local services.
“We have a roadmap to financial sustainability that invests in prevention to reduce demand for high-cost services.
“The Conservatives first priority is to propose raising council tax by 50 per cent over the next five years before doing the hard work to keep costs down.
“That’s the choice at this election.
“With a lot already done by a Labour council, and a lot more to be ambitious about, there’s a lot at risk under any other Party but Labour.”
They have a record to judge them on. The biggest achievement Barry can boast about is getting a £38 million bale out from government to shore uop finances. That is not sustainable. They have a record to be judged on. I suspect residents will not judge them kindly. Barry is a nice bloke, but Barnet needs someone who has the wherewithal to sort the finances out and I don't mean by getting baleouts. I mean by structural reforms and genuine efficiencies, which involves understanding where cash is being wasted. My view is that the management structure at Barnet Council is massively top heavy and they have set up all sorts of companies such as Barnet Homes, which have unnecessary boards and costs. That is where I'd start.
The most powerful tool in anyone's arsenal is stupidity. It will win you battles, arguments and even wars. It is only a problem when it your own stupidity. There are two types of stupid people. People who are stupid and realise it. They generally don't cause problems and know their own limitations. It becomes a problem when they convince themselves they are a genius. Stupidity is only really dangerous when the stupid think that they are cleverer than anyone else. It amazes me how often stupid people manage to manourvre themselves into positions of power and responsibility. The reason is because they offer simple solutions to difficult problems. The problem with simple solutions to difficult problems, is that they don't work. The problem is that every time you address an issue, the vacuum that is left is filled and it isn't always filled in the way you want. Being calm and analysing situations and trying to anticipate the effects of actions will often reveal why simple solutions are defective. However, when you deal with extremely complex problems, you cannot predict every outcome of every action. You can make a stab at a guess and work out mitigations, but when you play with guns and you don't know what your doing, you are as likely to shoot yourself in the foot as you are to shoot your enemy in the head.
But if you are up against a stupid opponent, their stupidity is your strongest weapon. Even if it seems like the odds are not in your favour, a stupid person does not make good decisions. If they don't listen to wise council, then they are going to make mistakes. Arrogance and over confidence is the downfall of many. You need a cool, calm head. I guess the problem many of us have, is that we don't know how stupid we really are. I was lucky. I went to St Vincents and had a bevvy of nuns to inform me of my limitations on a daily basis. I learned that despite my own limitations, I could succeed if I surrounded myself with good people who I could trust and had good judgement. Usually such people do not seek the spotlight. Like many fools, I actually quite like it. That is why I play in a band!
People sometimes see my willingness to delegate and discuss as a weakness. It isn't, it's a superpower. As a musician I write songs. I like to think I have good ideas, but they are invariable taken up three notches by the rest of the band, when they contribute. It was a principle I first learned in music. What I also learned is that not everyone is trustworthy. When people breach trust, you only find out when the damage is done. Often people who are duplicitous believe they are clever. However, you have to operate on the level of a genius to get away with snake like behaviour over any length of time. Most such people are not that clever. They get caught out and find themselves to be deviod of friends. It is all fine and dandy to curry favour by being sneaky, but only a fool misses the fact that people despise people with no honour.
It can be dispiriting seeing such behaviour, but arrogant fools are their own worst enemy and when they surround themselves with sneaks and cheats, they are doomed to exist in a level of hell that is grim and unimaginably dull. When you come up against such characters, don't despair. They make mistakes. It is not always pleasant in the middle of it, but their foolishness is always their own downfall. They do get their victories, but their lack of self awareness means they misinterpret the lessons or generally don't even see there are lessons to be learned. Ultimately it never ends well. So if you come up against a fool in life, or despair of those on the world stage, don't despair. Just bide your time and make sensible wise choices as best you can.
