"They'll be dancing in the streets of Raith tonight"

Football fans around the world love Scottish teams for their quirky names and strips. The famous quotation about Raith Rovers was made by BBC Scottish commentator Sam Leitch, after a big Raith Rovers victory in the 60's. But they won't be dancing in the streets of Raith, as it's not a town, the Football Club are based in Kirkcaldy. I met a guy from Kirkcaldy whose name was Graeme, but he pronounced it the Scots way "greem". He was impressed that I knew how to pronounce his hometown's name - something like "kerr-coddy" I'd say. He paid me the compliment that I was he first Sassenach he'd met who'd got it right.

So what's Kirckcaldy famous for, as well as Raith Rovers? Well these days I guess it's the connection with Gordon Brown; he's their MP. I'm starting to feel sorry for him, as I always was a sucker for the "poor dour Gordon" image. For years a steady hand steering the UK economy, while smiley Tony Blair becomes a world statesman; then Tony goes, Gordon takes over, we never find the weapons of mass destruction, the world economy dives and people are getting bored of Labour, so dour Broon gets treated by the media like a dead man walking.

Sometimes I rail against the media, as they seem to decide when a PM's time is up, regardless of whether or not the PM is doing a good job. I remember feeling sorry for John Major in a similar situation in 1997. I would rather the people decided for themselves, rather than be told what to do by the media.

I have listened to BBC Radio 4 a lot today. There's lots about Broon the Bully. Now forgive me for sounding old fashioned, but I wouldn't be surprised that any civil servant working at 10 Downing Street has a stressful job, whoever's in charge of the country. If you want a comfy cozy workplace where everyone's touchy feely sensitive, and it's OK to lay back and listen to the whoosh sound of deadlines as they whiz by, then maybe they should work somewhere else? (Obviously if there are later revelations that GB really is a terrible bully I'll retract this viewpoint.) Then there was a story about a conservative funder/supporter's non-dom tax status. Ho hum.

Later on there was discussion about budget cuts in the public sector, that all parties see as inevitable. And it appears that these parties ALREADY have spending plans/cuts that they would implement after the General Election. However none of them are saying what these plans are NOW, when we might consider what we think of these plans, and inform our decisions about who we want to vote for in the General Election. All we have to go on is speeches with some empty rhetoric about principles and priorities, efficiency savings and quangos, but no details of what any party will actually do. And the reason given, when questioned about what would happen post election, was that this detail would confuse the electorate at this stage.

As in many aspects of life, we have become infantilised.

So here we are, we have the media telling us whose time is up, three similar main parties who seem reluctant to say what they will actually do if in power, and an electorate that has become indifferent to the whole democratic process, apart from the Oldies.

So, come the general election, how will we make our choices? Given that the media and the parties have infantilised the electorate, could the saviour be the internet? Looking at the part the www played in the election of Obama, maybe there's some hope that we can get a new kind of debate, and more people voting from the 18-40 age bracket?

Big Swifty ignores person in wheelchair

I was sitting in the Bull on Tuesday (note: I was not Chief Sitting Bull) after work, to meet some friends before the single showing of the "No distance left to run" film at the Odeon. This was a local performance that had been secured by a Facebook group, the cinema previously having decided not to show it here despite Blur coming from Colchester.

In the Bull was a woman in a wheelchair who looked familiar, and I soon worked out that it was someone I had met recently in connection with my work and the Walk Colchester project. I would have liked to pop over and say hello, but I was only 95% certain it was her. With these odds I would usually take a chance and say "hi", but I had this fear that it wasn't her, and this stranger would say "so you think us people in wheelchairs all look the same do you?". I enjoy Ricky Gervais' comedy challenging our attitudes, and his wheelchair and disability themes in "The Office" and "Extras", I find very thought provoking. But the net result of my shyness and sensibilities was that I treated this person differently because they were in a wheelchair, though I don't suppose they were robbed of anything by me lacking the confidence to say hello. Ah the modern dilemma.

Anyway, I looked her up on Facebook, and said hi that way, and she confirmed it was indeed her in the pub, and apologised for blanking me!

What about the film? I had expectations that it would be an arty film, but it had a linear narrative, covering their recent reunion tour, interspersed with interviews and a potted history from Damon's appearance in The Stanway School play, through the britpop years, the arguments, and the getting back together. Maybe too many close-ups of their faces, some good old slo-mo film effects, and all one big love-in for the band and their fans. Very enjoyable it was too.

Earlier that evening the press had caught on to the idea that Blur fans were going to meet at the Bull before their hero-worship at the cinema. The camera man got all of us in the Bull to pose as excited Blur fans, and the following morning our picture was in the paper. In the front row a woman in a wheelchair, and in the back row a baldy middle aged man wondering if he should say hi. All the drama and angst captured on page 12 of The Colchester Gazette.

"over the top" award winner!

I was awarded an "Over the Top" award from Colleen at http://www.nhstuff.blogspot.com/ and Jules at www.muffinmoon.blogspot.com So here are my responses to their questions. I have to respond in one word answers only and then forward it to three other bloggers. However, I know so few bloggers so I've put it on here, and award the "Over the Top" award to anyone who wants to run with it.
1. Where is your cell phone? bagpuss
2. Your hair? gone
3. Your mother? window-monitor
4. Your father? English
5. Your favourite food? custard
6. Your dream last night? x-cert?
7. Your favourite drink? tea
8. Your dream/goal? coping
9. What room are you in? vacant
10. Your hobby? generalist
11. Your fear? loss
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? family
13. Where were you last night? reading (a book, not the town in Berkshire)
14. Something you aren't? dancer
15. Muffins? custard tarts!
16. Wish list item? cure.
17. Where did you grow up? not there yet
18. Last thing you did? wood-chopping
19. What are you wearing? old check shirt
20. Your TV? argumental
21. Your pet(s)? no way
22. Your friends? thanks guys
23. Your life? fortunate
24. Your mood? questioning
25. Missing someone? Tom
26. Vehicle? bikes
27. Something you're not wearing? cowboy boots
28. Your favourite store? Stanford's (map shop in London)
29. Your favourite colour? blue
30. When was the last time you laughed? suppertime
31. Last time you cried? diabetes, diabetes, diabetes
32. Your best friend? Jules
33. One place that I go over and over? scottish highlands
34. One person that e.mails me regularly? facebookers
35. Favourite place to eat? Cafe Vague, Benodet, Brittany (how can you answer that in one word?)

first bike ride of the year - Big Swifty seen in peloton

The first bike ride of the year, as always an uplifting experience. The combination of grey/ icy/ rainy weather, and lots of other things to do, had delayed my first fun ride until 17 January - the bike commute to work doesn't really count. From the back of the garage I pulled out my Peccary, a mongrel bike I assembled years ago from scrap bikes, including the frame that I found lying next to the road. It's the nearest bike I have to a mountain bike; I once did a 500 mile ride through the Scottish Highlands on it, including the Corrieyairick Pass, and a route across country from Glen Feshie to Braemar. But this time it was a short ride with Severine to Friday Woods, along the new and old cycle paths in south Colchester. It was a warm sunny day, with a very light wind, and mainly dry enough paths. The landscape was fresh and green after the snow melt, and the lack of spring growth better revealed the contours of the land, including my favourite stretch where we ride along the top of the 2000-year old Berechurch Dyke.

It has been suggested that Big Swifty is not a real person, and merely a figment of the imagination of some old bloke with no friends, who spends too long on the internet. How wrong can you be? Here's a picture of me and my mates out cycling this morning in Friday Woods. And finally, just because I get very few comments on my blogs, it doesn't mean people don't read them. Real life friends say to my face and by e-mail, how they "enjoy" my postings, hearing what I get up to, and grateful they don't have to suffer my "humour" too often. Indeed, following yesterday's posting about our new toilet seat, I've had requests that can be counted on the fingers of, well one finger, about what it now looks like. So here it is. And if Frank starts sticking coloured squares on it, we won't even notice will we?

Book clearance, and a message from the past turns up

He's only a little boy, but he sure takes up a lot of space. And our house was full of stuff before he was born. If we don't do something about it, the floors will be covered by our possessions, as well as the full cupboards and shelves.

Looking round, it's easy to focus on the wooden and plastic playthings under our feet, but blending in the background and overlooked are the things from BC (before child). Why should we cuss about the toys Frank currently plays with (especially when we tread on them in the night), when we have heaps of dead stock filling our house? So we're in a clear-out frenzy, reviewing our belongings, and asking ourselves if we need to keep them. And one bulky set is our books, collected over the last thirty-five years. Are we ever going to get round to reading our shelves of unread books? Do we still need the non-fiction now we have the internet? Much as we love some of the titles, are we ever going to re-read many of our old favourites? Have we opened these books in the last five or ten years? Are they now out of date? How many years do we have left to read or re-read all our books, and what will we choose to do with our remaining time? And finally, if we regret letting a book go, we can always pick up another copy.

All very fine in principle, but what about the practice? It's a painful process, and about a hundred titles have gone so far, giving us two metres of shelf space to move various objects off the floor. Today I took a batch of books to the office, offering colleagues the opportunity to pick them over, before I lug the bulk of them up the hill to the Oxfam Bookshop. So goodbye Bronte's Jane Eyre, auf wiedersehen Hesse's Steppenwolf, and au revoir Andre Gide's The Immoralist.

The latter was picked up by a workmate, who found a handwritten letter inside. I immediately recognised my grandmother's handwriting, and I had used it as a bookmark when I read it. The letter was undated, but it referred to the forthcoming event that was the birth of their great grandchild. Yes, these book pages and letter hadn't been opened since 1982. I can't remember the book at all, but I have very fond memories of my Nan (who died ten years ago), and a 27-year old daughter who's very much alive.

Bleeding-heart liberal-men round on Big Swifty

This man must be censured, for laughing with women. A hanging judge and jury of bleeding heart liberal men have decided that Big Swifty's facebook status posting today is inappropriate and offensive to women.

In response to the sisterhood's suggestion that women respond to a simple Facebook post, "What color is your bra?", millions of women have let their followers know, apparently to help raise awareness for breast cancer. The message was simple: "Just write the color of your bra in your status. Just the color, nothing else. Then copy & send this to the girls on your friend list, absolutely no men .... It will be fun to see if this will spread the wings of cancer awareness." Spread it did. It's still unclear who started the Facebook bra meme, but it's really clear what color bra women wore on Thursday. The Susan G. Komen Foundation likes the idea. At the start of Friday, the group had exactly 135 fans on its Facebook page. By 5:30 p.m., it had 135,000.

Big Swifty pleads guilty to posting the following message to his facebook page, copied from another friend:

"URGENT FACEBOOK VIRUS ALERT. An email recently went out to women asking them to post the colour of their bra. THIS IS A VIRUS. To fix it, you must remove your bra, then go to settings>Enable Webcam>Record Movie. Please re post this to your status."

Immediately I posted this note (tongue in cheek), to add fuel to the fire: "I would like to apologise for that last posting. I thought I was carrying out a useful public duty, and have now had it explained to me that it's some kind of joke."

A gang of politically-correct virtual-police friends of mine ambushed me, suggesting I was a dirty old man, and that I should be ashamed of myself. Some wimmin friends thought my posting a good laugh. My defence was that my message was submitted with post-feminist irony, but this concept was lost on the humourless male guardians of women's feelings.

"You have just made me really laugh when I feel rubbish." "Andrew - this is what facebook is all about - having a laugh." "Oh, Andrew! Your post is a hoot!" "Can't find the webcam settings, but my husband is enjoying the spectacle!! " said some of my women friends. I like a laugh with the girls.

Big Swifty comes out at work

Big Swifty hasn't posted much about work. I don't think it's appropriate to use blogs to criticise one's colleagues or employers. Firstly, there's a proper process to air any grievances about work. Secondly, I don't have any grievances; I like my employers, as an organisation and as individuals, and I enjoy the company of my colleagues. Sorry, if you were hoping for some salacious gossip or nasty comments, but I like these people.

Having read various american facebook friends' tales of thanksgiving, and pumpkin pie, and yearning because we in the UK don't celebrate this festival, I was so pleased today to be offered home-made pumpkin pie by Laura, long based in Essex, but a native of Pasadena, Californ-eye-ay. Anxious to record the miniutiae and ephemera of life, I whipped out my camera, and created a minor commotion in our open plan office.

At this stage I was forced to come out about my blogging, admitting my shame, and hoping for understanding. So, colleagues, welcome to Big Swifty's pages. Feel free to comment, but remember, I know where you sit.

Information is not wisdom

There was a time when I was proud to say I had a book on everything. Yes, I have some special interests, but I have got by in life by being a generalist. This has helped me in my job, being able to work with lots of people, and seeing the links between what I do, what other agencies provide, and what is needed.

And in my time away from work I was always fairly handy in a quiz team, though some would say there is more to life than playing your joker on the "name the artist" round.

But along came the internet, and my stacks of books on obscure subjects became steadily more redundant. At first I held on to my repository of information, thinking that the www would never be a substitute for printed and bound pages. Slowly, I'm letting things go, freeing up some space, and clearing some tomes that have become rather dated. There's little I can just hand over to the chazza; I have to put the provisionally rejected books in a pile for a last once-over, and skip read, to squeeze that last bit of juice from the fruit.

Today I said goodbye to a book that I inherited a few years ago from my Aunt Beth, "How the city works" by Oscar Hobson, from 1938, but this was a sixth edition from 1959! It describes the workings of the City of London, especially looking at banking, trade and finance. The glossary of terms has no mention of hedge funds or sub-prime markets.

And now I have the internet to inform and entertain me. And what pearls of wisdom do I receive? E-mails teasing me, with pictures of camper vans on the back of bicycles. Information is not wisdom.

Facing forwards, and proud

Some people have asked me "why do you have a blog?". Should it be by and about the real me, or should I adopt a (probably more interesting) persona? What is my ethos? Am I covering all aspects of life, or should I focus on a few themes and hope to attract followers of those topics? And does any of this matter, as it's only a bit of fun.

It would be easy enough to slip into a grumpy old man, "isn't modern life rubbish" mode, roll out loads of nostalgia for a past that never really existed, and spice it with some self-effacing humour before someone else puts the boot in first.

But no, I want to be positive and upbeat, celebrate the present and look to the future. And hopefully be entertaining sometimes. So Big Swifty is facing forwards, and holding his head up proud.

Looking through some other blogspots I tried the "next blog" tab a few times to see what other people are doing. Loads of crafts people out there, and fans of computer games. Then suddenly, up popped a warning from blogger saying that the next random site I had found contained "adult content". Well I'm a modern guy, I'm not fazed by a bit of swearing, and pictures of goths in studded clothing, so I went ahead.

I was confronted with a blog that consisted only of pictures of naked young men, clearly in a state of arousal. I thought about reporting it to blogger, not on the grounds of obscenity, but because it made me feel inadequate. Besides they had stolen my theme of facing forwards, and proud.

Anyway, each to their own. The purpose of this Big Swifty blog is to illustrate a flavour of Budd living, written mainly for ourselves, but if anyone else enjoys the ride, so much the better. That's us at the top of this posting. And I'll be keeping it U certificate in case anyone's concerned about the content.

Stacey Minshull is not my best friend

In a brief break from work yesterday, I chatted with Stacey, who works in the same building as me. Up to a few months ago she was just a friendly face I saw around the office occasionaly. Then I discovered Facebook, and we became "friends", using my own criteria, a) that I must have met the person in real life, and b) I must actually like them. (These are my criteria. I don't know what selection process Stacey has, but if she'll accept me....)

And now we've got to know each other a little, reading snippets about each other's lives, families, cooking, holidays and music. And about our passions - cake and Joni Mitchell.

There's no substitute for a real life, face to face meeting with your best friends, or a phone call, but Facebook is a fabulous way to keep in touch with our second and third division friends.

And I'm glad to have found more friends as a result of Facebook. People like Stacey, who were merely acquaintances, have moved from the wilderness of non-league outsiders, to the higher level of second and third tier friends. Does this imply a ranking of friends? Am I her Darlington, and is she my Accrington Stanley? It doesn't really matter, we've both slightly improved our lives as a result of our facebook friendship, and that's cool. And there's always the possibility of promotion for the lower teams. And cakes.