On one of their walks this week Tina captured this shot of Bevan looking to the heavens. I like it very much and it is now my desktop wallpaper.
Author Archive for Andrew
When at the end of June Tina started a job at a boarding facility for animals I didn’t realise that as well as paying customers she’d be looking after dogs in the care of the RSPCA. It was probably inevitable then that she would eventually fall for a rescue dog. We had discussed getting a dog in the past and arrived at the conclusion that with cats and both of us potentially working, it would be unfair to introduce a dog into our family.
However a 7 months old male Whippet-Cross, named Thorn by the RSPCA, captured Tina’s heart. This was a special dog she claimed, a gentle soul perfect for our family. He’d even been taken past cats to gauge his reaction, and passed the test. He was not interested, and a hiss from one angry feline saw him cower behind his handler’s legs. She begged me to let us adopt him.
I was still unconvinced. Tina’s job allows staff to take their animals to work with them for free day care which solved one of the problems, but I was worried about Hadley’s and Molly’s reaction to sharing their house with a dog. However seeing how much it meant to Tina I agree to meet Thorn one evening when I collected her from work. I was smitten. He put on a good show, if anything more pleased to see me than Tina. Clearly affectionate, he did have a calmness about him that I didn’t expect. I agreed to return the following day for an official viewing appointment. We went on a walk together, and as a novice I was petrified, and horrified when given a bag to collect any potential poop. Thankfully it was not needed, and Thorn behaved very well, showing no signs of the issues that sadly often beset a rescue dog.
By this stage my stance was faltering. I was falling for this dog too. I agreed to a 24 hour trial, taking a day off to bring Thorn home to see how he would settle. He did well, and a week ago today we signed his adoption papers and Bevan (as he is now known) became a part of the family. It may have been Tina who wanted this dog, but he seems to prefer me. He follows me around and misses me when I leave the room. Already there is trust and unconditional love. I have enjoyed the time we spend together, walks are not a chore as I feared, but relaxing and pleasurable. I am no longer in fear of the poop scooping bag but proficient in its use! Everywhere Bevan goes he received compliments from dog walkers and passers-by alike. I think we do have a special dog, and in honour of his first week with us here are some photos.
Stephen Foster aka Winger (left) discusses tactics with former Stoke City Manager Johan Boskamp, Denderleeuw, April 2008
On the 30th June I was working late, waiting to go to a Green Party meeting in Leeds city centre so I thought I’d pop on the Stoke City Fanzine Oatcake Message Board to pass a few minutes before I headed off. I expected wild transfer rumours, amusing tales, and the usual banter. What I did not expect to find was a thread about the death of Stoke author Stephen Foster. Having been reported missing, his body was found near his home in Norwich on 23rd June. The cause is believed to be drowning. At the time I found it hard to put into words what a shock this was and how incredibly sad this news is. I felt empty. My thoughts and condolences go out to all of Stephen’s family and friends as their pain will be far greater than mine. I did manage a few lines on the message board, but they were not sufficient.
So I’ve been wanting to produce a more worthy tribute to Stephen ever since learning of Stephen’s passing, but have struggled to get past a terrible sense of sadness, a feeling can’t really put words to, but just left me incapable of getting very far without giving up. But following the memorial service on Saturday 16th July at Mow Cop which Stephen would have undoubtedly called “sensational”, and was an uplifting, moving, and humorous celebration of his life, I felt it was time now to record my thoughts.
My first encounter with Stephen was not in person, but his book “She Stood There Laughing”. Reading it I felt several emotions. First off he spoke for me almost perfectly, describing that season in a way that I’d agree with 99% of his views. Secondly he repeatedly made me laugh out loud, startling fellow bus passengers in the process. Thirdly he made me envious. I harboured a dream of becoming a writer myself, and working on the old adage of “write about what you know” I’d considered doing something about my home town or Stoke City. However here was an author who had produced the sentiment of what I’d wanted to say, but had written it in such an eloquent and witty style that I could never have managed. The talented swine! I realised I’d best stick to the day job!
Having read the book and learnt that “Winger” on the Oatcake Message Board and Stephen were one of the same, I enjoyed following and contributing to threads that Winger and fellow “Pulis Hating Wankstains” (the name given to fans who dare criticise the manager Tony Pulis) frequented. Like his book his posts were articulate, sharp, reasoned, well observed, and very funny. I could usually rely him to back me up when I expressed a non-conformist opinion.
Somehow, and the exact details elude me for once, I got roped in to a weekend away in Brussels, and a trip to watch Johan Boskamp’s FCV Dender. I probably invited myself along more than likely. This was the first time I was to meet Stephen in person. By this point I’d read more of his works, including the awesome “It cracks like breaking skin”, and I half worried that he might demonstrate the sort of self-importance bordering on arrogance, a trait one often finds with people that have obtained some fame or notoriety. I feared sharp put downs or sarcasm which also often go with the territory of the artiste. Yet I should not have worried, because Stephen is from Stoke, and so possessed that down to earth nature forged with self-deprecating humour that so many people of the Potteries exude. Yes there was banter. Yes my lengthy detailed instructions on how to navigate the Brussels Metro system and find the hotel were read out loud for the group’s amusement, along with my propensity to use lots of exclamation marks, but there was no malice in this performance. Just good hearty ribbing, the sort mates give out all the time, the sort that indicates genuine affection. I will treasure the memories of that weekend forever, there were more laughs than I can possibly recall.
That weekend led to greater contact: meetings at games, emails, text messages, blog post replies, all containing the trademark eloquence and wit. When I spent 6 months in 2009 living in the USA with my American girlfriend to “see how things go”, I wasn’t allowed to work as a visitor in the USA so had plenty of time on my hands. This led to the honour of proof reading his book “And She Laughed No more”. Stephen was also kind enough to give his frank, detailed and valuable constructive criticism of two short stories of my own that I sent him. The first needed much improvement, but the second was much better, enthusiastically received and to get that sort of praise from a writer I respected meant a great deal to me. In the email exchange about the stories he asked who my literary heroes were. I couldn’t tell him at the time that he was one of them, but I can at least tell you all now.
In “And She Laughed No More” Stephen very kindly included a comment of mine, one of my replies to his blog. He also kindly wrote alongside it that I was a person who lived his life to a code, to a set of principles, something that impressed him and he admired. Well the feeling is mutual. Stephen was someone I admired a huge amount, was a hero, and an inspiration to me. Maybe because he was someone I could relate to - fellow Stoke exile, working class background turned “middle class gayer” who appreciated the arts, the beauty of the English language, and a decent bottle of wine as much as a trip to the Britannia Stadium and a cheese oatcake, and someone who confessed that writing didn’t come easy for him, constant rewrites and much turmoil before something approaching satisfaction with the result is achieved. I felt an affinity with Stephen because of all of these things. But more simply than that, because he was a decent, genuine, caring, generous, funny person who would go out of his way to help you. My regret is that I didn’t get to spend more time in person with you Stephen to tell you all of that, and that I won’t be able to share tales of the new addition to our family - a RSPCA rescue whippet-cross that I think you would have certainly approved of and enjoyed meeting.
It’s so sad that you’ve gone Stephen, but there’s so much to celebrate about your life. From Saturday’s service it was obvious that you have touched so many people’s lives in a positive way. You will be greatly missed.
Rest in peace lad.
It is hard to believe but it was one year ago today that I last set foot on American soil. One of the last things I saw of Jacksonville was the graphic on the airport window shown here and so it seemed a suitable header for this post. I had been over in the USA again to break up the seven months of separation that Tina and I faced before she arrived in the UK, to take over evidence for her visa application, and to help its completion. This final visit was bitter-sweet. It was wonderful to see Tina, the boys, cats and her family again, and good to know that while still a few months away, the next time we saw each other would be over here ready to start a life together. Yet it was sad to say goodbye to an area that had provided great friendships, and had been a happy home for six months in 2009. There was the uncertainty of when I might see Jacksonville Beach again.
The “Shack”, as we called the apartment on 10th Avenue North in Jacksonville Beach, looked a forlorn shadow of its former self, many of Tina’s possessions now packed away ready to travel back with me. During this final visit I took a lot of video footage of that place and made it into a short film, a record of what was our first home together. It was a poignant moment when I set off for the airport from it for the last time. There are times when I miss it, times when I have a flashback, and I hear the breeze through the window blinds, the swish of palms trees swaying outside, and the comforting creak of the front door as it closed behind you. Having the ocean so close was something we never tired of or took for granted, and I certainly benefited from the warm climate and near guaranteed several hours of sunshine throughout the year. In the last few months I have taken up cycling to work. While the weather and environs bear no resemblance to Jacksonville Beach whatsoever, and I don’t envisage ever travelling to work in shorts, t-shirt, and flip flops, I pull up at the bike locker at my workplace and it reminds me so often of locking my bike in the rack behind the Shack having just done a grocery run. I’m transported back there.
Another important thing that six months in the Shack gave me was friendship. Living in that apartment block and having the communal garden at the front introduced me to many great people who shared the residence and became part of my life there. 
I miss them all but the two main characters of the piece were Joey and Michael, and I confess that I haven’t kept in touch as much as I’d have liked or should have done. That’s something I need to work on, and can only apologise for. Joey’s occasional emails are no substitute for the amusing notes under the door and the banter that followed, while Michael’s thoughtfulness and generosity were matched by his fine company up the Ritz bar as we supped $2 beers. I hope one day they might visit here so I can return the hospitality.
But overall I’m not sure I could have taken to life in the USA. Their concept of society is far more individualistic than here, and other than the weather and close proximity to the beach, Tina and I felt we would have a better quality of life in the UK. It was for that reason that on 15th July 2010 Tina and two of her boys arrived at Manchester Airport complete with nine suitcases and the important Fiancee Visa. Hadley and Molly cats had arrived in the UK a couple of weeks before, enduring a transatlantic trip and a near four hour drive from Heathrow. Initially frazzled by this ordeal, by the time Tina and the boys arrived the cats were settling in and seemed happy with their new home. The boys were soon settling in too and making friends in the back streets. We made some day trips to the Lake District, Wales and the east coast, and eventually got them into local schools.
The main event of 2010 though was of course at 4pm on Wednesday 8th September when Tina and I married at Temple Newsam House in Leeds, and had an exceptional reception at the Queens Hotel. I have to say that going drinking the night before with the Best Man, Maid of Honour, and Tina’s nephew Joey was not ideal preparation for the big day. I felt decidedly unwell until around 2pm, and was still writing my speech at midday. 
Putting on the suit was an epic struggle, and the journey to Temple Newsam was a tad fraught, arriving about 15 minutes before kick off, and only a few minutes before the bride! Still it left little time for nerves, the service went perfectly, and we had such a glorious location for our photographs. We were joined too by wonderful guests; family and friends, including Tina’s Mum, Dad, Step-Dad, eldest son, nephew and best friend Paula. All who attended contributed to an amazing day, one I shall never forget. But there was no rest for the newly married couple as the following day we hired a mini-bus to take the American contingent to my parents’ house to see the area I was raised (cut short by a huge tail backs on the M6), then the next day we took a tour of the Yorkshire Dales and Lake District. We squeezed in a trip on the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway and an afternoon in Howarth before the last of the American party left these shores, and I returned to work the next day completely knackered and in need of another holiday! (Alas my next decent holiday actually came almost six months later).
It’s been a year of other firsts. First family Christmas all together in Leeds. The first time the boys have seen snow. The first Valentine’s Day Tina and have actually spent together. Thankfully another stressful application form and visit to the UK Border Agency in Sheffield ended well, Tina and the boys being granted an “extended leave to remain” residency permit, allowing them another two years in the UK, and permission for Tina to work.
Away from the personal life things have got busy in my political life. Discussions started in October about forming a city wide Leeds Green Party. As someone who had the trust of both Farnley & Wortley and Headingley Green parties I was asked to be Acting Chairperson while these meetings took place. After some deliberation over the new party’s constitution, we eventually held the Inaugural Meeting of the Leeds Green Party on 24th February 2011. I had the honour of being elected to the position Coordinator & Chairperson, a member of the Executive Committee. It’s currently all hands to the pump as local elections approach, aiming to retain one the Green councillors, and add some more if possible. Once the elections are over I am looking forward to helping the Leeds Green Party progress, get involved with campaigning, and recruiting new members to the cause. 
A couple of days before the Inaugural Meeting I attended a photo opportunity arranged by Cllr Ann Blackburn with Green Party Leader Caroline Lucas, as she passed through Leeds on her way to an event in Huddersfield. I was the “photographer”, but had the unexpected privilege of travelling to Huddersfield with Caroline, which included an opportunity to speak to her alone for quite a while before the train arrived. From watching TV appearances I suspected that Caroline would be approachable and without “airs and graces”, but you never know whether a party leader is gong to have a bit of an ego or attitude. I am happy to say Caroline was as friendly and genuinely interested in people as she comes across in the media, and it was a memorable and enjoyable few minutes with her discussing the situation in Leeds and the formation of the new party. I wouldn’t expect Messrs Cameron or Miliband to travel without an entourage, or to engage so comfortably with a complete stranger. The speech she delivered in Huddersfield was also a passionate and articulate piece of reasoning, and seemed to be supported by the majority of the attendees. All in all a day I won’t forget in a hurry, particularly as it was so unexpected. Now it’s back to the bread and butter, the graft of leafleting in Farnley & Wortley ward.
Family, work, and Green Party commitments make time very precious these days. Writing a blog has been pushed down the order of priorities. I don’t expect that I will be able to post with the regularity of past, or as much as I’d like, but I intend to get back into blogging. It is something I enjoy, and I hope others do too. Watch this space for any future noteworthy events and commentaries on life.
Life has got a lot more involved and busier since my last blog. Time seems to be precious and the blogging has been duly relegated towards the bottom of the priorities. I intend to do a “catch up” piece soon, but one recent event was so momentous I felt it time to get back on the keys and capture the experience.
Yesterday I travelled to London and joined thousands of others (estimates range between 250,000 and 500,000, but I favour something towards the top end) on the March for the Alternative. This was a demonstration and rally against the Conservative-Liberal Democrat coalition government’s cuts to public services, and their refusal to consider other fairer alternatives to reducing the budget deficit. My day started at 5am as I hauled my unwilling body out of bed, and I managed to get a bus into Leeds to make the coach rendez-vous point in time. Settled on the back seat with Dave, Daljit and Stewie, we set off to the capital at 6:45am.
The decision to park the coaches at Wembley and have people travel in by the Underground had been controversial at UNISON branch meetings. However it went smoothly and turned out to be a good idea, particularly as London Transport told us to pay at the destination station, and did not enforce it there either! (Plus it gave us chance to see the new Wembley Stadium). So we were at Waterloo station around 11:30am, and soon crossing the Waterloo Bridge with many other protesters. That was where we had first glimpse of the magnitude of the event. Victoria Embankment was rammed solid with people for as far as the eye could see. A truly stunning sight.
Taking photos from Waterloo Bridge led to my first separation of the day. The lads went off in front, but some how I ended up overtaking them as we tried to make our way along the Strand way to the access to the Embankment. The first feeder street was blocked off by stewards, and the next was packed solid but I eventually made my way down it. The swapping of text messages allowed the other three lads to catch up at the bottom of Arundel Street, where the confused crowd was slowly heading towards the main body of the demonstration. The reunion was short lived however, as just as we got on the Embankment I spotted a Yorkshire CND banner, snapped a photo of it, briefly spoke to one of the bearers who I knew, and turned to find my companions gone. There was no way of spotting them in such a sea of people, and the next time I would see them was on the backseat of the coach, late and delaying our departure!
It is impossible to do justice to the scenes I witnessed. I’ve never been in such a huge mass of people before. The mood was upbeat, almost celebratory, a loud blend of chants, whistles, drums, and various performing bands. One moment it would be the brass of the RMT Union, the next the wail of bagpipes. The crowd was colourful too, Trade Unions wearing their colours, individuals in fancy dress, banners and placards of all hues. I was there in my capacity of UNISON Steward but I was also supporting the Green Party and CND, fleece replete with badges, UNISON flag in one hand, Coalition of Resistance placard in the other. 
The hunt for a Green Party placard proved fruitless, leaving me kicking myself for not being organised enough to make and bring my own. However there were a large number of Green Party banners and placards present, including the beautiful Westminster Green Party creation.
The march to Hyde Park took much longer than expected and I think the organisers planned. I did spend much of my time photographing and filming events, but even so progress was slow anyway. There was a jam in Whitehall approaching Nelson’s Column, but I was surprised how few had gathered outside Downing Street when I reached it. However if the Prime Minister was home he would have known we were there, treated to sustained and loud booing. The lads texted me to say that they had reached Hyde Park and the rally was drawing to a close so they were heading for a pint. I was determined to reach the park at least, so battled on, by this time hungry and feet aching. En route I passed Fortnum & Mason, and the Ritz Hotel, which later were making the headlines due to an occupation, and an Anarchist attack. The latter was looking worse for wear, paint splashes up the frontage, while two confused guests peered down from their window at the baying crowd below.
I made Hyde Park about 3:45pm, missing the major speakers by some while. Probably just as well as I doubt I’d have been impressed by what Labour Party Leader Ed Miliband had to say. It seemed rank hypocrisy for him to be speaking at a rally about the alternatives to cuts when his party was advocating cutting too, merely changing the speed and severity of these measures. There had been a campaign #WhyisntCarolinespeaking on Twitter, and many Green Party members had contacted the TUC to ask why Green Party Leader Caroline Lucas was not on the platform. The Green Party’s manifesto and policies contain the alternatives that the March was calling for, where Labour’s do not. These requests had been turned down, no surprise that the Trade Union movement wanted to give Miliband chance to garner support. The simple fact is that Caroline Lucas would have wiped the floor with him, and could legitimately claim that she was offering an alternative, the sort that the three main parties could never do while a neo-liberal economic political consensus exists.
After walking past the stage, and over to Speaker’s Corner, I sat on the grass for a much needed sarnie and drink. A check of the map showed that Bond Street Underground station wasn’t too far away, and easiest for the Jubilee line back to Wembley Park. 
Bemused shoppers in Oxford Street took photos of the stragglers heading away from the rally, still chanting and waving their banners. Thankfully the queue at Bond Street tube station wasn’t too long, and I was away down the escalators. I bumped into one of my colleagues, Barry, on the platform, and remarkably there was two Councillors from Leeds in the carriage, one from my own ward. I’d really had enough of standing up by this point, but the train was full and there was little hope of a seat until Wembley. One last walk along Wembley Way, and we were back at the coaches. A flurry of text messages hurried Dave, Daljit, and Stewie on their way, holed up in Carnaby Street for a beer or two, with them finally arriving huffing and puffing following a last gasp dash. The coach left at 5:45pm, late but not drastically, and sailed effortlessly out of the car park and away from Wembley toward the motorway. A short break later we were back in Leeds at 9:40pm, and I got home around 10:20pm, some 17 hours after getting up. Exhausted, aching all over, but exhilarated. When’s the next march?!
Some more photos here.
It’s a while since my last blog post. This is because since returning from the USA I have been busy with a combination of working around the house making improvements, and getting involved with local politics. Weeks of leafleting where happiness was a loose letterbox and a few nights of canvassing finally culminated in the events of 6th and 7th May.
I had three main roles in the elections:
1. To help the attempt to get Cllr Andy Parnham re-elected in the Leeds City Council Farnley & Wortley ward.
2. As Cllr David Blackburn’s Election Agent, I was helping the bid to get him his best result in the Leeds West parliamentary constituency in the General Election. His previous best was 7.5% and the first target was 5% which would mean his £500 deposit would be returned.
3. One of the key helpers in my best mate Dave Procter’s bid to get as many votes as possible in the Leeds Central parliamentary constituency. He was standing on a Independent Green Left ticket. Independents always struggle, the system is skewed against them and retaining his deposit was the main target but getting past 200 votes would have been a huge achievement.
Aims 1 & 2 were interrelated as the Farnley & Wortley ward is one of the 4 that make up Leeds West constituency. Many of the leaflets we delivered had a message from both Andy and David.
Election day, Thurs 6th May:
I was up at 6:15am and down at the car hire centre to collect a car at 7am. I drove home, went out to vote myself, had leisurely breakfast pouring over the Guardian’s election coverage, and went to get a haircut in case I was going to be seen on the national media! 
I picked David Blackburn up at 10am and we went round to the campaign HQ, aka a Green Party member’s terraced house. 
First duty was to collect an elderly couple and give them a lift to their polling station so they could vote. The rest of the day was spent driving around 32 of the 38 polling stations to see how many people had turned up to vote in hourly increments. We kept bumping into the Labour candidate (and eventual winner) Rachel Reeves who was accompanied by outgoing MP John Battle. We seemed to be the only parties doing this. The dash around the polling stations was punctuated by a short break to wolf down a chip butty and to slurp a cup of tea. Then it was back on the road.
Later in the evening we took to the streets again, David bellowing “Vote Blackburn and Parnham your Green Party candidates. Vote Green Party today” on a loudhailer out of the window. It was cold in the car as a result! My next sustenance came about 8pm when a cheese and tomato sandwich didn’t touch the sides. I also bought a packet of Hobnobs to keep me going, and in the interests of health, a banana and apple. At 10pm when the polling stations closed we went off to David’s local pub, he had a couple of pints for Dutch courage and I stuck to orange and passion fruit juice as I was driving. We also had a couple of games of pool with his chums. At 11pm we set off to the John Charles Centre where they were holding the count. We were on the indoor bowling “green”, and the other counts were on the indoor athletics track.
The first duty was to verify the local election ballot boxes. The voting slips were counted to make sure the numbers matched the figures collected by the Presiding Officer in the polling stations. The votes were then resealed in the ballot boxes ready to be counted at 10am on Friday morning. As the votes were validated the parties’ “tellers” (volunteers permitted inside with an official pass) are allowed to witness the process and at the same time attempt to note down the mark from the individual slips. This is to give some early indication of the way things might be going for your candidate. It didn’t look good for Andy Parnham.
Then came the main event. The General Election ballot boxes were brought to the tables. First the numbers are verified, with voting slips being batched into 50s. Then these are separated out into different piles based on candidate. Finally these piles are sorted between the counting staff and counted. No wonder this process took until about 4:30am. Like before our tellers, myself included, tried to get an idea of how David Blackburn had done. 
When I wasn’t doing that I was wandering around getting intoxicated by the atmosphere. It was a mad frenetic affair with people rushing about, on mobiles, laptops, all with party rosettes. I also met up with Dave Procter to see how his vote was going. Not brilliant but we were laughing about it, doubting he’d make three figures. In the other large room was the stage and media camp. All the major players, BBC, ITV, Sky were there with cameras ready to capture any upsets. I spoke to the BBC’s Michael Crick several times about what was happening in Brighton where Green Party leader Caroline Lucas had a good chance of becoming the first Green MP. For a well known reporter Crick was very pleasant, no airs or graces, and talked to me in a friendly way and showed genuine interest when I might have expected an aloof distance. I think he was as excited by events as I was. I also saw Ed Balls the unpopular Labour Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families who many thought might lose his safe seat to the Conservatives. I was stood about 5 feet from him when he was suddenly swooped on by the media, questioning and cameras flashing. I was in the way of some of the shots but had nowhere to duck out of it! I was also acknowledged by Fabian Hamilton (Labour MP) who remembered me from when I looked after his pc when he was a councillor. There was Hilary Benn, another government minister, and I also spoke to Andrew Carter the Conservative Leader of Leeds City Council. I was exhausted but loving every minute. Rumours broke that Caroline had indeed taken Brighton Pavilion, but these were unconfirmed. Rumours then broke that Ed Balls had lost to the Conservatives. There was an electric atmosphere. Feeling a bit faint I forced down an over priced and unimpressive cheese sandwich from the canteen, washed down by a much needed coffee.
Eventually about 4:45am the first result was in. It was ours, Leeds West. David Blackburn took to the stage with the rest of the candidates and the Lord Mayor Judith Elliot read out the result. As expected Labour’s Rachel Reeves won easily. David polled 1832 votes (4.7%) which was not enough to get back his £500 deposit. So that was a disappointment. David and the entourage went home but I hung around to see the rest of the results. Ed Balls hung on by 1101 votes, a slashing of his majority, and he gave a bombastic speech which the Conservative supporters tried to shout down with cries of “Off! Off! Off!” I had a ringside view right behind the cameras on the front row. It was soon Dave Procter’s turn. Hilary Benn was returned easily as expected but Dave got a very creditable 409 votes and gave a short but passionate speech. I stayed until the bitter end to hear all of the results and left the centre about 5:45am. It was on the way home in the car that I heard live on the radio that Caroline had won and become the UK’s first Green MP. I was screaming “yes” and punching the air in the car, lord knows what the car in front must have thought.
I had to have the hire car back at 7am, but luckily I caught a bus soon after and was home for 7:25am. A bit of breakfast and one last look at the results service on the BBC and I went to bed, 25 hours after I’d got up! I managed about 3 hours sleep before I woke up again. I’d booked the morning off but was expected in work in the afternoon. I rang up and asked for it off on flexi which was thankfully granted. I’d have been neither use nor ornament if I’d gone in.
The Aftermath:
Despite an impressive 2563 votes, Andy Parnham did lose his seat, coming second to Labour and squeezed by a much larger turn out due to the local elections being on the same day as the General Election. Ironically the local Labour group increased their seats to 48 meaning the previous Cons / Lib Dems / Morley Borough Independents coalition no longer has a majority, which could lead to a potential Labour-Green administration in Leeds. Nationally the Green Party were squeezed by a high turn out and voters choosing the three main parties. Our key target seats of Norwich South and Lewisham Deptford saw an increase in the vote but were not taken. Caroline’s result was the high point of the day.
Despite the mainly disappointing results nationally and locally I loved every frenetic, tiring minute of election day. I’m probably in the minority when I say I’d love to it all again sooner rather than later!
Today is the big vote on US Health Care, a moment that has been described as “historic” by President Barack Obama. The Democrats are now confident they have the necessary support to introduce health reforms. Congressman John Larson, chairman of the House Democratic caucus, claimed the party had the 216 votes needed to pass the bill. The debate has raged for more than a year and it has frequently looked as if the bill might collapse. It has taken extensive lobbying by the Democratic leadership and an impassioned plea to Democratic members of Congress by Obama, to allay the fears of some in the party who were reluctant to support the bill, either because of the costs involved, estimated at $940bn (£626bn), or because they objected to possible public funding of abortions.
Health reform had been the centrepiece of Obama’s domestic policy on the campaign trail. The debate has been hugely divisive and embittered right across America, as I witnessed myself after writing a letter about the subject to the Florida Times-Union newspaper in September. All 178 Republicans have promised to vote against the reform in the House, where the Democrats have an overwhelming majority. Passage by the House should ensure the bill will become law. It must return to the Senate this week but the Democrats only require a majority of 51, and have 59 votes in the 100-member chamber.
The bill aims to expand health care to a further 32 million Americans, giving the country 95% health coverage. It would require most Americans to carry insurance, with subsidies for those who can’t afford it, expand the government-run Medicaid programme for the poor, and create new marketplaces where small businesses and self-employed people can pool together to buy cheaper health care. However an amendment to allow a public or single-payer option was not included despite being passed in an earlier debate.
Most newscasters and commentators have focused on the opposition to the bill in terms of the views of the Republican Party or anti-establishment Tea Party movement that share fears of the hand of “Big Government” making unwelcome intrusions into the private lives of individuals and leaving a massive debt which must be paid off by future generations by tax increases. A conversation with a cashier at a local supermarket in Jacksonville Beach two days ago echoed this view. While chatting at the check-out she revealed she was unhappy with the health vote that was about to take place because it would make the US system more like the UK or Canada, and she told me ” I don’t want my grandmother being refused treatment because it cost too much”. I expressed my view that having experienced both American health care and the NHS, the British system was better. She disagreed. However I would have been more accurate to say that the Obama reforms would not create a system which matched the NHS.
Indeed there is a whole side of the argument that seems to have been ignored or at least been given little coverage. There are critics of the reforms that believe the proposed bill does not go far enough. Organisations like the Physicians for a National Health Program, Health Care Now!, and the Green Party of America , all favour a single payer or public option that would be more in line with the British NHS. While making health care available to many more Americans, Obama’s reforms have been drafted with considerable help from the insurance industry, will not make health care universal, and will not introduce a “not-for-profit” system. Nor will the reforms remove the obligation to employers to provide health care, an additional cost that could affect competitiveness with firms from countries that have universal health systems.
The status quo is unacceptable. Millions of uninsured and under insured Americans is a disgraceful state of affairs. Obama’s reforms attempt to address that situation and is maybe the best that can be expected given the nature of America’s political system and the millions spent by lobbyists on adverts attempting to preserve the current health system. However as “historic” as the vote may prove to be, it feels like a missed opportunity, and does not deliver what is really needed to improve the health care of ordinary working class Americans. I cannot help but feel disappointed. Change we can believe in? Not yet.
[Based on a report by The Observer]
A year ago this month Molly Cat came into our lives. A lady who saves cats from the “kill list”, i.e. those that cannot be found homes by animal charities and are put to sleep, had rescued Molly and her siblings and was displaying them outside a pet supply store to try to find them new keepers. When Molly reached out and put on an act, Tina’s heart melt. She phoned me and asked if we could get another cat. I was not convinced. I feared that Hadley Cat might object to sharing her home and there was all the extra expense. But I caved in because ultimately I knew I was fighting a losing battle. There was no way Tina could walk away from that cute three months old bundle of fluff.
Now I can’t imagine not having Molly around. After seeing the photos a year ago I was anxious to meet the new addition to the family. My six months in the USA from last May onwards gave me plenty of time to be with Molly. I had no choice really, she adores me and follows me around demanding attention. I missed both cats badly when I returned to the UK. Molly has identity issues - she chirps like a bird and acts more like a dog. She will play fetch, likes constant fuss, wants her tummy tickled, and loves sweet foods. Less refined than her “sister” Hadley, Molly was happy to sleep in the litter box, a plant pot of soil (having killed the plant), and she shreds any paper that is left lying around in view of her mischievous eyes. If she is not sleeping on a cushion next to me, or playing with her toys, then Molly is usually found in the window sill watching the world go by. So here’s a recent photo of our daft as a brush Molly in honour of her first year with us.
After several days of temperatures struggling to reach fahrenheit figures in the 60s, and windchill making them feel lower, the sun has got his hat on today, has come out to play, and it has reached a very pleasant 74′ F (23′ C). Yesterday I was in a fleece and jeans. Yes a fleece in Florida, I ask you. The forecast for the weekend and next week is for similar temperatures in the 70s. I might even make the beach at this rate. This is the first day I have opened the windows of the apartment. I am told Florida suffered the worst winter this year since records began. Ah but no snow like the good people of Leeds had to endure. Well my late lunch has been consumed and so I will venture out into the glorious weather for a relaxing read under the old currant bun as my Grandad used to call it.
Many think that life at the beach would be idyllic. For one section of the community in Jacksonville Beach living by the seaside is less about sunbathing and surfing, but more literal - the sands and environs are the closest they have to a home, it is their life. There can be few examples of the wide gulf in wealth within US society as strong as the differing experiences of people who populate “The Beaches” area of Jacksonville.
While a couple of miles down the A1A multi-million dollar homes nestle around the Ponte Vedra Golf Course (a few miles further and you encounter the exclusive and world famous Sawgrass Golf Club), at the other end of the social ladder homeless people sleep on the sands through necessity not choice. There is a mission house on Shetter Avenue which provides daily meals, showers, clothing and some medical assistance, but many homeless people find themselves without a bed for the night and gather on the beach instead.
During my six months in Jacksonville Beach my early morning bike rides would often coincide with small groups of homeless people awaking near the dunes and getting ready to make the journey to the Mission House for a meal. One man (pictured above) was a permanent fixture on the beach, his belongings in tattered plastic bags and a small suitcase that had seen better days. Whenever I saw him he was either asleep or more often indulging in a bizarre ritual of a dance-like shuffle making a small square shape motion in the sand while nodding to some kind of music. Whether it was from a mp3 player or just a tune in his head was difficult to tell. A walk along the beach yesterday once again included passing this dancer moving to to the beat of his own private world.
Another encounter was more involved. One evening back in July at the Ritz bar I had my camera ready for the space shuttle launch at Kennedy some 150 miles south, having been told the tail of flame could be seen from the beach on a clear day. As I made my way over to the boardwalk with a few other shuttle spotters, I met Rodney and Tammy, a homeless couple trying to earn small change by telling jokes. Spotting the camera Rodney told me to take their photo as it was their second anniversary, and I duly obliged. Three weeks later I bumped into Rodney again one morning as I locked my bike up outside Walgreens. “You do right to lock it up my friend, I had mine stolen a few days ago”, he informed me. We spoke for around five minutes during which time it became obvious he was local celebrity, nearly all those entering the store said hello to him. Rodney offered to take the shirt off his back to clean my bike wheels to earn $2. He got the money without the toil. I told him that I’d taken the photo of Tammy and himself a few weeks before and that I would print him a copy. Rodney was delighted and told me the two regular spots on the beach where they spent the night so I might find them to hand it over. On my rides I always carried the photo in my bag in case I saw Rodney again. In the end probably a couple of months passed before I did, spotting Tammy and Rodney walking along the very road Tina was driving us down to collect her children from their father’s. We pulled over, my initial shout startled and seemed to worry them. As I approached it was clear Rodney did not recognise me, his face wracked with concern, but a swift explanation and offering of the photo brought about huge smile, and a vigorous handshake. As we drove away Tammy and Rodney remained motionless, both holding the photo and peering at it in amazement. In the scheme of things a small gesture and certainly no answer to their problems, but I hoped it made their day and made them realise someone cared something about their situation.
While trying to research homelessness in Jacksonville Beach I came across this video report from First Coast News made in November 2009 just before I left the US. It contained some familiar faces. Police Clean Out Homeless Camp In Jacksonville Beach I have yet to see Rodney or Tammy during my latest visit to Jacksonville Beach so I don’t know if they are still in the area or have been moved on to another county, or worse, sent to jail.
The City Rescue Mission in central Jacksonville says that homelessness has increased 33% in Jacksonville and could increase another 10% to 20% in the near future. Below is a factsheet that City Rescue Mission has produced:
Federal officials say homelessness over all is expected to rise 10 percent to 20 percent in 2009.
Each year, more than 3 million people experience homelessness, including 1.3 million children. One-third of the homeless population is made up of families.
And according to national studies, even more Americans are at risk of homelessness. Millions of low-income American households pay more than 50 percent of their income on rent when estimates say the figure should be no more than 30 percent.
A missed paycheck, a health emergency, or an unpaid bill creates a crisis, pushing them out of their homes and in to homelessness.
While the number of homeless individuals in shelters was about the same as last year, the number of people in families increased by 9% to 516,700, suggesting that family homelessness was on the rise.
Approximately 40% of homeless men are veterans, although veterans comprise only 34% of the general adult male population. The National Coalition for Homeless Veterans estimates that on any given night, 200,000 veterans are homeless, and 400,000 veterans will experience homelessness during the course of a year.
There were early signs that the economic crisis may have affected trends in homelessness nationally. Notably, a greater share of people accessing the homeless system in 2008 came from stays with friends and family and from places where they had lived a year or more, suggesting that people who had been stably housed were becoming homeless after exhausting their housing options.
The number of homeless families with children has increased significantly over the past decade. Families with children are among the fastest growing segments of the homeless population. In its 2007 survey, the U.S. Conference of Mayors found that families with children comprised 23% of the homeless population. These proportions are likely to be higher in rural areas. Research indicates that families, single mothers, and children make up the largest group of people who are homeless in rural areas.
Sources: http://www.nationalhomeless.org/factsheets/who.html, http://www.nlchp.org/hapia.cfm and http://www.ich.gov/
