National Road Relay Result at Sutton Park, Birmingham April 13th 2013

Photographic Quiz:

Photo no. 149:- ….. so what did her dad do and what did her daughter do and what did she do ……????

Blog, you will be pleased to know that I was NOT called upon to do my duty to Godiva, Peeping Tom, Dick or Harry. It was a good job. It saved a great deal of embarrassment … search as I might, I could not find my Club vest. I was in real state on Friday night, couldn’t sleep for worry in case I had to run bare chested. In fact I was so tired when I got up yesterday morning to begin the search all over again that I doubted whether I would have ever managed to get round … even the short relay leg. Then when the call didn’t come by the time we left home for the Sutton Park, Birmingham venue, I was concerned that it would be a very last minute call up. I tried to look cool when I joined my club mates at the club tent, but my agitation must have shown by the way the club captain went immediately to fetch the First Aiders as soon as he saw me. Bless. He said later that he thought that I was going to take up too much of the medical staff’s time as I was in such a state. Bless him. And down the club, I have to confess that we often do.

               So I was able to trundle around the relay course doing the verbals with friends old and very old. I do have to confess that half way through the afternoon I was really getting angry. Consider Blog, the extremes of being a member of any type of club or being a member of society in general, there are a given set of rules and regulation which make both function to a degree of efficiency. It does matter if you agree or disagree with the set up, you implicitly accept you have to conform or anarchy ensues. (but see below!!!). At the National Road Relay, there was a large sign near the start that declared that pacing the runners on bikes was not acceptable. Athletes were verbally reminded of this on the start line before the gun was fired for the first leg to set off. Fair enough you say Blog. By leg six of the twelve leg men’s relay, I was aware that a certain northern club runner was being ‘assisted’ by a gentleman on a bike. The biker was either behind, alongside talking, or in front of the said runner sheltering him from the rather stiff wind which had begun to blow. I gave the man on the bike a stare or two to suggest that what he was doing was questionable under the rules of relay engagement. He took no notice. Next leg, out on the long lonely five mile loop (eight kilometres to you Blog), he was still at it. I gave him a bit of advice but to no avail. I was getting irate because if you are a member of any type of club or a member of society in general, there are a given set of rules and regulations which make both function fairly efficiency. It does matter if you agree or disagree with the set up, you implicitly accept that you have to conform or you have anarchy. (but see below!!!). I complained to an official. He would let the referee know, I was assured. Oh yah?? I complained to a marshal when the pacing continued on the next leg and was told I would need photographic evidence. ‘I’ would need to provide photographic evidence. Me??? It was bleeding evident to all and sundry what was going on. And unfortunately I had left my trusty Kodak instamatic camera on the garage shelf twenty five years ago, and I had inadvertently forgot to pack in this morning’s rush to set out for the National Road Relay Race in Sutton Park, Birmingham. So I dobbed in the northern team’s antics to the race referee. He was very sympathetic. I do wonder what the outcome was. I shall let you know Blog.

    This morning was the final fixture of the Centurion Running Club’s winter series at Chelmsley Wood. My elder daughter ran in the five miles (see ditto above Blog) and was awarded with third place overall, her daughter repeating the award for the series of 2 kilometre fun runs. (one and a half mile to you Colin); Another example of an unheralded  local athletics’ club doing a grand job for the sport at grass roots level. If only these give us the quids commercial races did half as much good …

             About forty years ago, when everything was being computerised, I happened to meet, at a National Road Relay at Sutton Park, an old friend from the Pink Pather University. We spent some time chatting. I asked him what he was doing for a job and he said he couldn’t tell me but wink, wink, wink. Over the years we have often met at various athletic happenings. Soon after that first meeting he confided that the government’s drive to computerise the whole world was not going well. Not going well at all. Indeed, it was causing his section of the civil service huge problems. HUGE problems with a capital ‘H’, Blog. It appeared that there was a gap in a security procedure which they were unable to plug. Because of the security worries many quids were being spent on researching techniques to cope with the difficulty if it was eventually found that the problem proved to be unsolvable. Now of course he would not reveal the nature of this government department’s worry. No not now, nohow, never. But from time to time I have to confess that I have been a little bit naughty and played the system just for a bit of a laugh …. Well this week, it seems that the hole was never plugged!!!!!!!!!!!! Can you believe that Blog. A forty year old problem still exists. How do I know you ask Blog. Good question that. Well I had a communication from a certain government department to say that they had done an electronic search on me and could not be satisfied that I existed … or words to that effect!!!! Over the years, I have had similar problems, some simple, some not so simple. But it is a bit worrying if I can crack the system, what if ………………Enough said!!!!!!!!!!!!

       Would I supply my passport, driving licence and utility bills, all counter signed by an important person. So you can see Blog that it was heavy; HEAVY with a capital ‘H’. Now I was left with a dilemma …. How many people hold two valid passports???? This official government body wanted one passport. I’ll tell you Blog, I had to be a bit careful ….. I will let you know if it’s an open prison and what the visiting hours are!!!! And of course, the big worry is ‘will I be allowed to trudge, here, there, and everywhere … or will it be just THERE’???

                                 Colin

On the proverbial horns, Blog.

Dear Blog,

           Got to be quick as I have a problem … a very real dilemma. Tomorrow is the National Road Relay in Sutton Park Birmingham and my club, Coventry Godiva Harriers are having a little difficulty finding twelve willing athletes to run the six long and the six short legs   …… my dilemma??? Will the call come??? And so ...To trudge or not to trudge today, that is the question. Whether it is better in the mind to rest down in case I am needed or suffer the barb comments if I run and am tired? The club needing me, you question Blog. Yes, I told you they were desperate with a capital ‘D’. Won’t type more now as I need to save energy.

                                           Colin

P.S. Will ask one of my daughters to pop down to the post box with this letter to post it to you.

The Grand National winner 2013

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 147:- Which is the former show jumper Harvey Smith? Which is the horse and what is the horse called?

Dear Blog,

   I have no interest in horse racing, period. The Grand National last Saturday did attract my attention however. Why you ask? Blog, I am glad you asked that question. The trainer  was pictured with her husband and the horse .. which is what caught my attention. And the pub featured in some papers also drew my interest. Let me explain to you Blog…...

   Many years ago when I had just started running, my club at the time, Bingley Harriers, was asked to provide ‘marshals’ for a cross country event. I had just started running and knew nothing of the sport and assumed that cross country was what we did. We ran, they marshalled!!! But being wet, very wet, behind the ears I was happy to volunteer with a couple of other youths from the club … in fact there was only a couple of other youths in the club. We were a small club at that time in those days, the glory years were yet to come. We did not have many members, our strength in quality being the fact that we seemed to attract all the good runners from the local grammar schools around the small village of Bingley, Bradford Grammar, Salts, Keighley … So I turned up on this freezing afternoon at the allotted time on this farm on the top of Marley Hill which happened to look down on the cinder running track at Keighley; presumably it was a Sunday. I think I was the only one to use the track at the time, but more of that some other time Blog. The point is that I turned up to marshal at this cross country event and it turns out to be a HORSE cross country event. So what? Life is all about doing different things. I was stationed by nasty high sandstone wall with a fearsome drop on the opposite side to the one used by the horses on their approach the obstacle. My duties were unclear. Horse after horse refused and I didn’t blame them one little bit. In a change of circumstances, if they had been marshalling and I had been doing the cross country course, I would have refused at that wall, packed my kit and gone home.  Many of the riders took a couple of half-hearted attempts then gave up, presumably acknowledging that the wall jump was too risky to endanger their expensive horses and risk injury to the animal and or themselves. Then along comes this big brute of an animal and the horse was pretty large as well! First trial ... refuses. Second attempt .. refuses. Then the horse gets a real whipping from the rider, but the third attempt is still unsuccessful. More whipping and the horse decides it is better to die honourably doing his duty for God and the Harvey rather than die in agony from the beating the rider was giving it. Now I knew nothing about horses then and I know nothing about horses now. So the treatment meated out to the poor animal might have been normal practice and to the untrained young eye, the beating might have appeared far, far worse than it actually was. Enquires later revealed that the rider was Harvey Smith. The Harvey Smtih but this was years before his notoriety. Years before his personalised number plate. Years before his medals. I was given to understand he was well known locally but not nationally. That was all to come later. The following Saturday, Bingley Harriers had a normal winter pack run over the country and the lead runners took us over the moors up behind the school we used for headquarters past the farm where Harvey Smith had his base. It looked different in set up from the other farms around even then. We went past Dick Hudsons pub and out onto the moorland.

    Now that was the pub featured in the publicity blurb surrounding the Smiths, it was the one nearest their farm. It is called Dick Hudsons. And the significance for me was that there was an annual whit race walk from Bradford to there and then back to Bradford. Godiva were very successful at the event pre-war and immediately after WW11. I’ll dig out a photo or two for you Blog, if I can remember. Or you remind me if I forget. Coincidentally, the time before last when I was up in Keighley, the family went for a meal there. It was still a bit too much on the yuppish side for my taste. But then, each to his own! Next time I visit Gods Own County, I shall go for a long trudge up onto the moors around there for old time’s sake. The style in the wall behind the pub, goes out on to the open moorland, and if you follow the path for a mile or two, you come out at the top of Ilkley Moor buy gum. If you veer the run to the right, you can do a loop past the Cow and Calf rocks, swing down left towards the town of Ilkley then climb back up past the kids paddling pool, along the very rough stony bridle way to Keighley gate, where you have to option of running down the tarmac road to Keighley, or taking a left up to the Transmitter Masts before dropping back down to Dick Hudsons. The kiddies paddling pool you past as you start up the moorland climb was always the focal point of a family hike from our home in Ingrow. One very, very cold summer’s day, my parents allowed me and my sister to paddle in the freezing cold water. No one else had ventured out on that cold June day. My sister lasted a couple of strides but I was a man with a capital ‘M’. I was the only child in the water. THEN. I was the only child to slice the bottom of his right foot open on a piece of unseen glass in the water. I do claim credit for giving all these film makers and film directors the idea of the flowing blood in horror films, the scene of the blood in water used to heighten the tension before the shark ATTACKS. My cut was a very bad one. Very bad. We had to spend quids to catch a bus back home. And that was unheard of. And Blog, you will not believe me when I tell you that I still have the scar sixty years later, and more unbelievable, is the fact that the damn thing still plays me up. Must remember to get it seen to when I have time.

                                       Colin

the Regency 10km Run Results April 7th 2013

Dear Blog,

        Yesterday’s Coventry Way 40 mile event was blessed with excellent weather for walking / running. It started at 6am to allow time for walkers to complete the entire circuit on the way-marked footpaths in the country side around the city of Coventry. The Tiny Tims Children’s Centre relay team sprang into action from the start / finish pub, the Queen’s Head, about three hours later. Some of the legs were disjointed and not continuous so the end timing done by the officials did not let us appear in the final results as a bona fide relay team. We did not mind this as we knew what the conditions of entry were before the start of the event and were most grateful to the organisers to allow our participation. I had the pleasure of trudging from the Common in Kenilworth to the village of Bubbenhall via the oldie worlde village of Stoneleigh, skirting around the National Agricultural Centre en route. Having trudged by myself for a couple of years it came as a great shock to the system to be accompanied on the leg by another runner, who showed no mercy to my state of fitness, claiming after the event had finished, that I had to be waited for on more than one occasion as I was struggling to keep up. All lies Blog, all lies. That is the last time I offer to take my wife for a run in the country! There were many kissing gates on this section of the route and I was rather bold and suggested to my wife that I should receive a passionate embrace at each of the kissing gates. She said nothing and I thought I caught a sly coy glance from her. I could have been mistaken. It could have been wind as she did rather have a rather large breakfast. I made my advance at the first gate, lips apuckered, but she was through and off up the next field before I could scrape the cow pat off my trainers. Playing hard to get I thought. she leapt over the next kissing gate not bothering to open the thing. Then she started a session of fast-slow running. Fast when a gate came into sight, slow while I tried to catch up as she waited on the other side of the gate, ready to take off at a goodly pace to the next stile. And so I went unkissed.

           So, as the miles ticked by, I resigned myself, passion doused, to the thoughts of what might have been. Scuttling along in front of me, I let her think that she was making the pace. On several instances during our seven mile stint, I did a few moans and groans to lull her into thinking that she had the upper hand and I was suffering from the trudge. I threw in a few coughs and gasps to make the charade even more convincing. And my piece de resistance was to slump onto the ground feigning agony and exhaustion at the changeover check point. The act must have been an Oscar winning performance because the paramedics had me on a trolley and had my leg bandaged up and had put my arm in a sling before I could say that they had chosen the wrong arm and leg!!! We did have a good laugh about it as they unwrapped me. They said that they were grateful as it was good practice and that they had nothing to do all morning and were beginning to wish they had gone to the Regency 10 km Run instead (a charity type fun run in Leamington held on the same morning). I didn’t feel it was my place to tell them that I wished they had gone there as well. Their enthusiasm for the bandaging was a bit over the top I thought.

     For the rest of the day, it was a case ferrying runners to and from different check points. Then. We all trooped along the last two miles together. The route for that particular section consisted of narrow bridleways, mud, rutted footpaths, kissing gates and stiles. My grandson was in his specially built pushchair. Designed and built by my son in law with four wheel steering and suspension, the seating can be adapted to suit any age and most disabilities. The wheels allow the buggy to easily travel across country; mud, ruts, woodland, moorland, fields and pathways all come within its compass. A hand brake is incorporated into the design as an added safety feature. Technically it is impressive indeed. It is so versatile that it would satisfy any parental requirement.

   And so we finished at the Queens Head. What a day.

   Oh yes Blog, I almost forgot. It was my wife’s birthday. As you know, I always like to do something a little different for her and spend many hours thinking of suitable presents that she can love and cherish in many years to come.

   As you know Blog, I am a bit of a poet, so the card I designed for her this year incorporated a few poetic stanzas. So she could have fond memories of this year’s birthday celebrations, besides enjoying the endless trudge around the Coventry Way Trail, I thought I would give her a little puzzle in her birthday card so she had to solve the cryptic clues to locate her no expense spared presents, hidden tantalizingly around our property ...

The verse inside her card which I gave her when she brought me my cup of tea in bed  ....

No present yet ... it’s tough on you,

To find the pressie, just solve the clue.

The first you have to have a laugh,

Simple really – it’s in the bath.

The second is a simple clue,

To find the present, look in the Loo.

Number three is easy to see,

To find the third, look in the tree.

Just look down for number four,

You’ll find it standing on the floor.

Number five, the last I bought from Blog,

By the fire, it holds a log.

        So off she went on her little search, after she had cooked my breakfast. I said she could look for her five presents and then wash the breakfast dishes.

       The silly billy thought that the reference to bath in her first clue was a pointer to the bird bath down by the orchard. She got her slippers quite wet searching amongst the long grass. [I must remind her to cut that tomorrow, it is looking untidy]. She then tried searching the bathroom upstairs to no avail. It was a bit annoying her making all that noise as I was trying to catch a nap before I got up; her banging and thudding about didn’t help me to rest. Finally I was starting to get annoyed so I hinted that she should look in our double garage, in the new bath I have stored in there. She seemed a little disappointed with the bottle of bath cleaner I had so carefully wrapped in birthday paper for her. I suspect that I had boob boobed and not bought her favourite brand.

      Now the loo hint really put her off the scent. Again I had to point her in the direction of one of my pieces of art in the kitchen garden. An old Loo planted out with flowers. I don’t think that she thought I would been as clever as to have thought of a bottle of plant food for her second gift. Oh it was so exciting watching the expressions on her face. I must say, she tried to fool me by looking a little ungrateful at times. What a little tease she is.

   She spotted the bag of peanuts for the birds almost straight away suspended as it was from a branch. As I was getting a bit thirsty, I let her have a break from her search so she could make me a mug of coffee. I thought the break would add to the excitement for her final effort.

   She nearly tripped over her fourth present. I thought I was rather clever leaving the tin of floor polish on the floor. I thought it had a certain practical symmetry, the floor polish being stood on the floor; I didn’t make it too hard to find.

     I had to explain the fifth present too her. I thought a wooden box for the wood for the fire was a pretty smart present to buy, but she seemed a little down when she knew it was her last present. The anti climax of the search I suppose. She was very emotional after that fifth gift. She broke down in tears. She said she had so looked forward to receiving a special birthday present and the presents that she had received from me were not quite what she had expected. I was so pleased that my springing so many surprises had been so successful and unexpected. I had not seen her so overcome with such tearful pleasure since I bought her a set of step ladders the Christmas before last. Blog, I kid you not, they cost me many quids. But then, she is worth it I feel. You can tell she was so grateful for the steps, because she continues to mention them to all her friends every time they bring up the subject of their presents bought for them by their husbands and / or their partners. It is her way of deflating their attempts to make my wife jealous of their tails of expensive jewellery and exotic holidays. She is very clever in that way. When she goes on about the ladders her friends realise what a wonderful considerate and thoughtful husband she has. I can hardly wait to see their faces when she tells them that I have treated her to FIVE presents for this year’s birthday.

                            Colin

Coventry Way 40 mile result April 7th 2013

Blog,

         ....... today was the Coventry Way 40 mile event .... KNACKERED ... will write tomorrow.

                          Colin

The Coventry Way Sunday April 7th 2013

Dear Blog,

        I told you a couple of letters ago that this Sunday coming is the ‘Coventry Way’ event in Meriden in Warwickshire England, which is a 40 mile circular walk around the outskirts of the city of Coventry using footpaths; it is a walk or a run or a relay. All not too formal with ‘feed stations at regular intervals around the route to sustain the participants. Now it is renamed after Cyril Bean whose idea it was to establish the route. The field of participants is limited to a couple of hundred because the whole day is organised and administered by a faithful band of volunteers, members of ‘The Coventry Way Association’.

      ‘Tiny Tims Children’s Centre’, a charity which offers help to disabled children has a team of relay “runners”, using the event to raise a few quids for the charity; nothing very formal in the way of fund raising, but any quids raised will go to the Centre. And any quids is better than no quids. How are you fixed for a few quids Blog?? The walk starts from the Queens Head pub in Meriden and finishes there several hours later depending on the time each person, team takes to circumnavigate the footpaths around the city. In the Tiny Tims’ team we have a couple of the workers at the centre, also my son-in-law and daughter will be doing a section of the walk which is on a hard surface so that my grandson in his wheelchair can participate; my other daughter and another runner will be doing two or three fragmented sections covering upwards of 20 miles while me and my wife (sorry I know you are posh Blog, my wife and I) will be driving here, there and everywhere linking the relay together besides doing a couple of trudges ourselves. So get on your knees Blog and get the weather fixed up for us please. No messing – sun and a gentle warm breeze will do very nicely thank you very much. And of course, do come along and do a few miles if you wish Blog, you can easily be slotted in. No chance of getting lost. The relay starts about 9am by which time the walkers will be about a quarter of their way around the course, they having started at 6am.. The route is way marked with official symbols, the result of a Lottery Grant a few years back; there is also a route booklet and the paths are well trodden. We intend finishing the last half mile on the final stretch of road together, so, see you there, if not before, Blog.

The Old Blue Coat Girls' School, Coventry

        

        Talking of Lottery funding reminds me of the occasion when I had just started my research into ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and Other Clubs in the City”. The local newspaper carried an article about 5the city of Coventry being well under represented in the Lottery Funds application for grants with an historical interest; there being very few history bursaries given to this area of the country in the past. To stimulate interest, there would be a meeting of interested parties at the old Blue Coat School, an apt meeting venue as that had been the subject of expensive refurbishment and the completed job was most tasteful, a credit to the team responsible. As I said, the announcement of the funding meeting was at the time when I was into research and it was costing me a few quids for paper, photocopying, reproducing facsimiles of documents and photos, the usual sort of stuff. Not a big drain but with a few quids here and a few quids there and a few quids everywhere, my research could be done more efficiently and quicker. So I applied, got accepted and went along to the seminar hoping that a hundred quid or similar would tied me over .... and this is where things got a bit sticky, with a capital ‘S’. Each person or group at the start of the meeting was asked to stand up to give an outline of their project, how they saw it developed and what sort of grant would be needed. So, no problem there. However.....Talking of Lottery funding reminds me of the occasion when I had just started my research into ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and Other Clubs in the City”. The local newspaper carried an article about 5the city of Coventry being well under represented in the Lottery Funds application for grants with an historical interest; there being very few history bursaries given to this area of the country in the past. To stimulate interest, there would be a meeting of interested parties at the old Blue Coat School, an apt meeting venue as that had been the subject of expensive refurbishment and the completed job was most tasteful, a credit to the team responsible. As I said, the announcement of the funding meeting was at the time when I was into research and it was costing me a few quids for paper, photocopying, reproducing facsimiles of documents and photos, the usual sort of stuff. Not a big drain but with a few quids here and a few quids there and a few quids everywhere, my research could be done more efficiently and quicker. So I applied, got accepted and went along to the seminar hoping that a hundred quid or similar would tied me over .... and this is where things got a bit sticky, with a capital ‘S’. Each person or group at the start of the meeting was asked to stand up to give an outline of their project, how they saw it developed and what sort of grant would be needed. So, no problem there. However.....

      They started. Some ancient building needed gutting and so on and so forth and the need was for about half a million quids. The local Victorian garden needed renovating, needed gutting and so on and so forth and there was a desire for a couple of hundred thousand quids. This old forge needed saving with all its equipment and several hundred thousand quids would be the cost for the successful completion and so on and so forth. And so it went on .... ‘Colin, you have come to the wrong shop here my son’, I heard my brain shouting. It would soon be my turn to give forth!!! So no problem there except I seemed to be several  noughts short of a grant. Still, in for a penny (that’s about half a new pence to you Blog) in for a pound. I stood and outlined my desire to investigate the social, political, educational, industrial and historical influences on the development of a local running club because its survival and growth was a microcosm of the survival, development and growth of the city of Coventry, a reflection in miniature of how the city grew in the last 130 years and I felt that a hundred and fifty pounds would benefit my research greatly. Stifled sniggers from the multi million pound applicants did I hear? I have to confess that mine was the only application which did not run into a six figure sum!!! I was met with a polite thank you and the measured talks continued around the room. When the project outlines were completed, we broke for coffee whereupon, I was immediately approached by the important people running the seminar. Most interesting, give us details. Never heard of anything like this before, give us details. Just the sort of original research we are looking for, give us details. I was flabbergasted with a capital ‘FLABBER’ Blog. Forms were given out and an important meeting was arranged with Important Lottery Funding People from London. Forms were filled in and a meeting with Important Lottery Funding People from London was held. No you need to apply for a hundred quids, you need to apply for much more than that, after all, you will need top of the range cameras, video machinery, slide projectors for talks and so on and so forth. So the grant application went from a measly hundred quids to a different banding application of a few thousand quids. New forms were given out and an important meeting was arranged with Important Lottery Funding People from London. These new forms were filled in and a meeting with important Lottery Funding People from London was held. No you need to apply for a thousand quids, you need to apply for much more than a thousand quids, you need to employ researches to help research, a professional presentation company to help present etc. and so on and so forth. So even newer forms were given out and an important meeting was arranged with Important Lottery Funding People from London. The even newer forms were filled in and a meeting with Important Lottery Funding People from London was held. No you need to apply for thousands but you need to apply to the next banding so you can apply for tens of thousands of quids.

       Now Blog, I like a joke as much as the next precariat (ref * below Blog). But this was taking the Michael too far. I want to do the research as my hobby, my interest in my early retirement. I don’t want to set up a bleeding research foundation, based in the Herbert Art Gallery and Local Studies Department. I don’t want to employ and fund a couple of the Museum staff. So Blog, I made my excuses and left. It is hard to believe that I am telling you the truth Blog, but would I lie to you? Next time you buy your lottery ticket Blog, just think, you could have been employing me from the FUND!!!!

           Do you know Blog, not only have I never watched a soap, been to a mcDonald’s etc etc as I have told you before, but I have never bought a National Lottery ticket either. I simply do not like the odds on offer. That’s what happens when you do a few sums at the Pink Panther University.

           Off now for a trudge in the freezing cold. I was going to trudge this morning but we had another furry of snow .... April 5^th and it is snowing. Trudge on McBeth, trudge on to Verona.

                             Colin

P.S. (ref *) Don’t you think that in Mr. Cameroons’ brave new world, he has shown a remarkable degree of fortitude to announce that we now have seven social strata when even Aldous only managed five even though they were subdivided. So it’s goodbye from me as an alpha plus and its goodbye to you as a savage, Blog. And its hello from me as an elite and its hello from you as a precariat Blog, you proletarian pleb you!!!



The BEST April Fool Joke - EVER.

April 1^st ----- April Fools Day.

Dear Blog,

       So it is April the first and along come all the tiresome April Fool jokes. Most are childish but it would be churlish of me to not acknowledge that it is good fun for the children. There have been notable exceptions to my sweeping statement suggesting that most practical jokes are rather mundane; the original Richard Dimnplebee Spaggettii spoof on the BBC and today’s announcement made by the North Yorkshire Preservation Railway Society about placing bar codes on the sides of their engines to aid train spotters to which Pete Waterman played along admirably, was amusing. But surely the BEST EVER was today’s other prank. Absolutely BRILLIANT with a very large capital ‘B’.

       To be entirely convincing, an April Fool’s prank has to sound reasonable and if a high profile personality or organisation can be persuaded to play along, many many people will be fooled. And of course, that is why this year’s April Fool has been THE best yet. Indeed I doubt whether it will ever be surpassed. The buildup has lasted for weeks and that is why no one caught on. A very clever tactic that. Well thought through. The BBC played along and surprisingly every national and local newspaper was in on the wheeze, broadsheets and tabloids acting as one. And what really made the event so successful was the fact that that nice Mr. Cameroon and also his chum Ian lead the deception.

          Today, April Fool’s Day carried the announcement that a new Benefit System would be introduced. What a wheeze. And not only that but there would be wide spread changes to the National Health Service with massive budget cuts. Clever using a double whammy, like that! Then I thought that that nice Mr Cameroon had blown it when he said there would be a bedroom tax. I thought that was a bit on the silly side, OTT. Especially when he said it was only for those in social housing. I thought taking the micky out of the most vunerable in society was not quite what you would expect from a reasonable politician; not what April Fooling is all about. Some people were genuinely upset. They had obviously not realised it was April the first, All Fool’s Day. I do think that was taking the practical joke too far. The bedroom tax thing was such a ridiculous notion anyway.  For the politician to say they would cap benefits and bring in a universal tax credit is a bit heavy. They should have kept the wheeze a bit more lighthearted. That is why I was so surprised that Mr. Moribund and Cleggie went along with Mr. Cameroon and Mr. Duncan’s ruse. Still, I have to admit it was all good fun in the end and it will cement Mr. Cameroon’s place in political history as the only Prime Minister who had the courage to fool the whole nation even it was for only a single morning. So it’s well done to David and Ian for giving us all a good giggle on this April Fool’s day.

                             Colin