Trident WOM (Waste of money)

On the 24th Feb there's going to be a demo against the war in Iraq and the replacement of Trident. I have to confess that the decision leaves me bemused. Once again, a Labour Govt has confounded its supporters expectations and has sought to push through a policy that saddles us with a huge wasteful debt.

Did you know we won't be buying Trident, its more like renting it from a dodgy hire shop. The missiles will still be owned by the US AND the guidance system is entirely in their hands, using as it does their satelites. So the arguement about an "independent nuclear deterent" is entirely spurious!

A Woody on the General Council recently urged all Woodcraft Folk members to support the demo. Butwhen I asked if GC were backing it, he said they hadn't discussed it. This is one of the things I find SO frustrating. As a movement we have lost the ability to think politically with a big P. IF we are going to support the demo, then we need to start building that support now. District contacts need to be rung, leaflets prepared, assembly points organised. In the 1980's the Folk grew on the back of CND and peace marches. I have long argued that visability among our "natural" constituency is part of the strategy required to raise our profile. If the Folk doesn't get its finger out then it will squander a golden opportunity.

I will take some of the teenagers along and try to get other groups in our District to take children along too.

Life on Mars

I am useless with xmas presents. Its not that I hate suprises...its just I hate suprises that I don't like! As a consequence I always write lists of the presents that will get the thumbs up from yours truly. That way I'm not disappointed and don't have to pretend I like gifts that are only good for returning to the shop. Is that ungrateful? Or just realistic?

Kaz hates my xmas lists and bought me a DVD not on the list...it was "Life on Mars" 1st series.

If you haven't seen it, then you've missed a real treat. Its based on a copper called Sam who gets run over and is in a coma, but at the same time he's been transported back to 1973. So you have a great drama scenario unfold. A 21st century "PC" detective, having to work with a Reganesque DCI Hunt whose character is right out of the Sweeney! This sets you up with great comedy and great interaction between the aparently brutal Hunt and the heroic Sam. Except sometimes Sam's "holier than thou", and "I know better" attitude gets up your nose and you see that Hunt has hidden depths. I love the play between the characterisation and the visual aspect of the series. For example there are various references to sheriffs and the wild west, while in one scent Hunt puts up a poster of "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" in his office. Sam asks Hunt which one is he. Hunt replies "All o' 'em". Classic

It also reminds me of growing up in the 70s and what a diverse decade it was. Oxford Bags at one end, drain pipes and safety pins at the other. Glam rock to punk rock. I was 8 when it started and 17 by the time it finished. Gola trainers, Ford Capri's, all the shops shut on Sunday...

Titanium cup

One of the presents I was bought for xmas was this titanium mug- from alpkit for £15, which for a TC is a pretty good price. Ty and Tina were over during the xmas break and we were talking about who got what etc- Ty was bemoaning the complexity of putting a free view box onto his tele (a present from Tina). I mentioned that I'd got this cup.

So Tina asked, could you open a can of soup, pour it in and put it on the fire. I assured her that you could use it in that way if you had a mind to. Tina was suitably impressed.

Until a few days latter she was telling someone about this amazing cup I'd got. Aparently, you could stick it in the fire and it would heat the soup, but be cold to the touch and could be removed from the fire with bare hands! I hastened to correct her ref the heat transferring properties of this metal. And despite my explaining that titanium was light and extremely hard wearing, she was inconsolable in her rejection of the usefulness of it to man/woman or beast.

The Turtle Head of Light

Its New Years' Eve and I'm sitting at home on the laptop in the front room with my MP3 player on, listening to Stone Roses "Waterfall"- brilliant track. Kaz is doing her family tree on the other PC in the dining room (god that sounds well posh doesn't it, for a family that eats food on their laps watching the TV!)

On the 29th Dec Paul and Georgia (a really great couple of people, Kaz and I got to know through Ty and Tina) invited us to celebrate Georgia's 40th birthday at their house in Ringmer- hence the picture above- which doesn't do justice to the village.

Its a small habitation outside Lewes in East Sussex. And although small has its own website:http://www.ringmer.info/ . The wierd thing was when we got to the Broyle, via the 22 and 28 buses (a mini adventure in its own right) there were no street lights! We stumbled on, a group of townees, muttering about how dark it was and where the f*** were we?

Finally we got to the house and were greeted by Georgia at the door. She had been cooking all day and had laid on a feast of curries, to be washed down with gin, wine or carva. The house was packed with adults, kids running up and down the stairs and a dog wanting to play catch... it reminded me of our house!!

I watched Paul getting the nearest to stressed I've ever seen him. Cooking can be a multi tasking exercise which (as Kaz keeps telling me) men can't get the hang of. ( Oh yeah? How come I can drink beer and sit at the same time then, eh?) Anyway, Paul is one of those people I've always envied. Quietly spoken, gentle, unflapable, intelligent,with a sense of humour as dry as the sahara. And although I don't fancy him myself... a good looking chap to boot. I suppose I should hate him in normal circumstances!

I got called into kitchen where Kaz showed me her drink. I thought I was seeing things. Her glass was glowing flouescent yellow. It was a plastic ice cube with a light in it!!? Well I got one in my drink- red, naturally! Anyway I joked that I couldn't crunch my ice cube, to which Paul replied if I was successful then if I woke in the morning with my arse in the air it would be "the turtlehead of light".

Latter we got to discussing science and whether it could solve the problems it had so far created. It reminded me of those debates that Victorians like HG Wells initiated. Is science the saviour or the Frankenstein's monster that will unleash unimaginable horror on the planet? I tend towards the latter view because science does not sit outside a human paradigm. Then we went onto talk about global warming. The consensus appeared to be that it was a major, the major, threat to humanity. Certainly I found Al Gore's film "An Inconvenient Truth" pretty convincing. But Richard, a reasearch scientist, was pretty skeptical about the whole thing. Latter, on the way home Ty and I told Margaret- Richard's partner, that he had also been denying the holocaust because he had read Irving's "history" on Hitler. Margaret took a few moments to realise we were taken the piss and being satirical.

It was a good night and in the morning Kaz told me that Tina and Margaret had complemented her upon her breasts. I was a bit bemused about that. Is that what women do? "Oh you hair looks really good like that. Is that a new top? Is it from Monsson? Nice breasts by the way."???

Sometimes life is just too strange!

Billy Bragg

I went to see the Bard of Barking last weekend with my friend Ruth, who used to run my Woodcraft Folk group with me years ago. She was a teacher.

I was relieved that Billy was back on form after the last time I saw him. This tour was sponsored by Unison, GMB, TGWU and Amicus. I think we missed a trick not getting PCS to sponsor the tour too. There were loads of stalls giving out anti racist/BNP literature and anti privatisation material. Given the strike ballot PCS is currently preparing for, it would have been good.

The gig was cracking value with Billy playing two sets, so there was no support band. The sets were:

1) To Have and to Have Not 2) The Price I Pay 3) Farm Boy 4) Like Soldiers Do (slow version)5) John Barleycorn / England, Half English 6) Must I Paint You a Picture 7) A brief snatch of Pinball Wizard - “Johnny Cash” version 8) Old Clash Fan Fight Song 9) Saturday Boy
10) Everywhere 11) Greetings to the New Brunette.

Second set: 12) Sexuality 13) NPWA 14) Jarama Valley 15) Way Over Yonder 16) Ingrid Bergman 17) Superstar / That’s Entertainment 18) If You Ever Leave 19) Milkman
20) World Turned Upside Down 21) St Swithin’s Day 22) I Keep Faith 23) Levi Stubbs’ Tears 24) Power in a Union

Encore: 25) Great Leap Forwards 26) A New England

Those of you BB fans will recognise some new songs there. Farm Boy for example. I didn't care for it myself and I ain't a lover of Billy's Woody G stuff either. I would have thought given the "Stop the BNP" message that he'd have played "All you fascists"...but no. I was suprised to hear him sing Jarama Valley- its a Spanish Civil war song. But I was not suprised by that, but rather by the fact its sung to the tune of Red River Valley! (in the WF songbook)

there's a valley in Spain called Jarama
its a place that we all know so well
it was there that we fought against the fascists
we saw a peacful valley turn to hell

from this valley they say we are going
but dont hasten to bid us adue
even though we lost the battle at jarama
we'll set this valley free before we're through

we were men of a laken battelion
we're proud of the fight that we made
we know that you people love the valley
we're remember a laken brigade

from this valley they say we are going
but dont hasten to bid us adue
even though we lost the battle at jarama
we'll set this valley free before we're through

you will never find peace with these fascists
you'll never find friends such as we
so remember the valleyof jarama
and the people that'll set that valley free

from this valley they say we are going
but dont hasten to bid us adue
even though we lost the battle at jarama
we'll set this valley free before we're through

all this world is like this valley called jarama
so green and so bright and so fair
no fascists can dwell in our valley
nor breathe in our new freedoms air

from this valley they say we are going
but dont hasten to bid us adue
even though we lost the battle at jarama
we'll set this valley free before we're through

I was quite taken with that and thought I should teach this to our Pioneers and kids at camp.

Sins of our fathers

Its been a bit of an emotional xmas this year. There's always an interesting dynamic in play at this time of year within Kaz's family that has brought to ruin many an expected great holiday. And we always say "never again" and we'll know better next year. But of course a year latter we are a little removed from the pain and angst and ready to make the same mistakes the following year. I guess its not entirely about amnesia, because whatever my feeling (which tend to be linear and pretty unforgiving) one has a responsibility to family. So you "do the right thing" even though you know its a train wreck waiting to happen.

This xmas was different from recent years. My mum and dad weren't here over xmas or Boxing day. They came on the day before xmas eve and returned home on xmas eve. It was fine, but I must confess I missed them being here. Still. They spent time with Chris my older brother which I was glad about, because I know he feels a bit left out at this time of year. The expected nightmare within Kaz's family failed to materialise and instead my eldest daughter's boyfriend finished with her. He was supposed to come to xmas dinner, but didn't turn up all day and evening. On Boxing day still no sign. He finally texted Jo and she rang him and he finished with her because he "wants his freedom".

FUCK! How many times do blokes use that line? Did Henry the 8th use it on Catherine of Aragon? What's worse is that I've used it myself in my younger days. I remember finishing with a girlfriend of four/five years standing about 18 or 19 years ago. I remember telling her to her face, but her not accepting it and my having to confirm it on the phone the following day. I remember the hollow voice, the desolate tone, the overwhelming guilty, the relief, the free fall of emotions and sickness and grief. Knowing someone who was so special to you will never be a part of your life again. Just a photo in a box in the cupboard.

I recall my ex girlfriend driving over to my house and leaving presents on the porch. I remember the knot in my stomuch and the totally disconnected feeling I had from my family. A couple of years latter a woman broke up with me around the same time of year. Its a shit time to break up with people.

And now my daughter is going through the same thing. I wish I could reach out and make it ok. Take the pain away. In some ways I'm glad its over, because what future did they have? He was one of those blokes, uncommunicative, racist, homophobic. A young man with absolutely no insight at all. I know Jo knew deep down there was no future in it, but 5 years is a big investment in a relationship. So she is alternating between anger and grief. I hate to see her this way. Not my little girl. I know its the dad in me talking. I would do anything to take the pain away.

Creative writing

I've signed up for a course with the Writers Bureau. Don't know what'll come out of it, but I thought it worth improving my writing skills. I had to write a couple of pieces for the first assignment and I attach one of them below.

In a couple of weeks time I will be attending the Woodcraft Folk's annual conference (or gathering, as its now called). The piece is supposed to capture its essence, although with the rain pounding on the windows outside, whilst I sit here writing, its hard to visualise those balmy June days!

THE GATHERING

Every year the Woodcraft Folk, a youth charity, organise a national event bringing together members from across the country. This “Annual Gathering”, a democracy under canvas, has a unique ambience and vibe.

Tents sprout like fungus across tendered lawns, a veritable panoply of colours and shapes. The excited chatter of delegates mixes with joyfully shouted greetings to friends and colleagues long missed. The voices are punctuated by the bass chink of sledgehammers on steel pegs, and snowy white marquees rise from the ground like overdressed brides. Elsewhere the sound of mallets on pegs adds a gentle and rhythmic drumming to the music of a community being born under a glorious blue sky.

The phut of burners and the scrape of kettles full of water denote people who have pitched their tents and stowed their gear. In some places whistles blow or boiled water furiously bubbles. These sounds are joined by the slurping of tea or coffee, and invariably accompanied by heart felt sighs as muscles are released from tension.

Woodies (as members often refer to themselves) sit in groups eating, drinking and sharing a well earned repast. Rangy teenagers stalk through the tents looking hungrily on, or flop under the shade of a tree in dappled light, “chilling out” cocooned in a world of digital music. Older members disdain the rich green sward, preferring to sit on tubular steel folding chairs made with gaudy nylon covers and passing between them ham and cheese sandwiches from tuppleware containers.

In a surprising short period of time the Woodies are gathered, fed and watered. Inexorably they start to head towards the conference hall. The streams of humanity ebb and flow around the tents, tributaries joining a larger flow, and the buzz grows louder and the atmosphere turns from a sleepy village fair to the electric hubbub of a collective will dedicated to the maxim “Education for social change.”

I stand for a moment in dazed amazement at the contradiction between the lazy Englishness of it all and the forthright commitment to Blake’s New Jerusalem as “we go singing into the fashioning of a new world.”

Have you seen Mrs B?

This is a photo of me and my long suffering partner (ok, ok wife) ...Kaz. The picture was taken at her 40th birthday. She looks rather lovely whilst I look a bit pissed! No change there then!

She was out tonight with her amigoes Julie and Lolly. I think they've just realised they are grown ups now. Not so long ago it would have been round one of their houses, drink a bottle vodka and go dancing till the clubs shut. Tonight it was out for a meal and back home by 11pm! Sad or what??? Mind you I went out with some friends from work in Clapham last night and caught the 9.40pm train back to Brighton...and I was sober. This is what hitting 40 odd means... Being sensible!

This morning Kaz and I walked Honey up on Newmarket Hill and cut down Castle Hill. Its amazing how quiet it is there, and you could be forgiven for not realising Woodingdean is just over the hill. Got a new Berghaus gortex jacket yesterday and it was fantastic to watch the rain run off it this morning! See! I said I'm getting old!

Sleep of the unrighteous

On Saturday Kaz didn't move from her sofa (yes we have his and hers sofas!!) and orgininally I thought it was self induced by too much pop. It turned out that she had come down with the virus that's been doing the rounds... I know this because I went down with it on Sunday. It was very unpleasant. I felt fine in the morning walking Honey and watching Liam play football, but by 3pm I felt crap.

I had to walk Honey on Saturday alone...usually Kaz and I walk the dog together over the weekend and its a bit of time on our own to talk about the week just gone and family stuff. Anyhow, I was walking Honey in Sheepcote Valley, down by the fenced area on the valley bottom, when I spied a male Kestrel sitting on the fence. I approached slowly and got within 10 feet of him. I could clearly make out his plumage and his beed like eyes. We stared at each other for about 5 minutes, and eventually I walked on. The Kestrel didn't stir at all. It was a remarkable sight and made my day.

On Sunday I watched the film "War of the Buttons" a beautiful film about two gangs of kids living in rural Ireland on opposite sides of a river and their simulated battles where trophies are the buttons cut off their enemy's shirts. Its a film obviously made for kids but has some well handled themes about nature as a teacher, nature as a reconciler and the exploitation of nature for money. If you ever get a chance to see it, you simply must.

I can't say it was a great weekend with Kaz and I being ill in turn. I went to bed at 7pm on Sunday night a slept fitfully...or was it the sleep of the unrighteous? The sleep of a guilty person who had mentally accused his partner of self inflicted wounds of a alcoholic kind?

Party time

Last night was Lucy's 30th birthday party at her house. I find it hard to believe I've known her since she was 12! She has grown into a really beautiful woman. Most of the Woodies were there and her family and friends from work. In the garden John (Lucy's husband) had errected a yurt and there was a pot bellied stove on the go inside. So even though it was a cold Feb evening the yurt was very warm within. John had put up fairy lights around the trellis wall and rugs were strewn across the floor. The overall effect was enchanting.

Poor Lucy had caught some sort of stomuch bug and wasn't on top form. She ended up going to bed early. I guess she won't forget her 30th in a hurry, but its not going to be a classic memory I suspect. Still her friends and family were there, so hopefully that counts for something.

Kaz arrived late as she had her Christmas works party to go to. Yes, I know its either rather early/late to be having an xmas party! Anyway Kaz was pretty well oiled by the time she got to the party. And coz she's Kaz it wasn't long before she was dancing in the conservatory! The woman would have partied while Rome burned!!

Loads of people came up to me and said they saw me on BBC South on Wednesday night with the Pioneers. I had taken them to the vigil to remember the 100 British soldiers who have died in Iraq. It was a sombre affair with the names of all the British soldiers being read out and the names of 100 Iraqis also read out. I was nervous about taking the Pioneers down there- we have a couple of livewires in the group and I feared they would lark about. The fear was groundless and the kids were very well behaved. Many of the participants wondered who all these kids were, then someone asked me and I said "A local Woodcraft Folk group" and the explanation was whispered about and sage heads nodded in understanding and smiled indulgently.

There is a big national peace demo on 18th March and lots of the Pioneers want to go. If its big there's no way I can keep an eye on all of them unless accompanied by adults.

Anyway! Back to the party. We got home about 1pm from Lucy's and shushed our youngest two off to their beds- they had crashed out on the setees. Kaz, it became clear, was even more trollied than either of us realised and ended the evening talking to god down the great white telephone, afterwhich she collapsed onto the bed in a death like sleep, and so ended another perfect evening out!!!

This morning, does she feel sorry for herself?

What d'you think!!!

Why Walking Eagle?

I guess we all wonder how we developed our politics. What was it that pushed us toward a particular ideology? For me it was reading "Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee" by Dee Brown. I was 14/15 at the time and facinated by the American Civil War. A friend of my dad's lent me Bruce Catton's triology on the Army of the Potomac. To me, as a young teenage boy, it was unintelligible. However, with these books was "Bury..." A book still on my bookshelf about the treatment of the Native Americans (Indians) . Its style was so immediate that it drew me in, like a moth to a flame. I couldn't put it down. I was shocked, horrified, disgusted, angry and indignant in turn. My feelings of empathy and sorrow were summed up in a quote by Red Cloud of the Lakota. He said "The white man made us many promises, more than I can remember, but kept one. They promised to take our land and they took it." The book detailed the sorry tale of broken treaties and lies by the whites and the wonton distruction of the buffalo to finish the western tribes independence.

I was brought up on the tripe of Hollywood westerns and the racism they peddled; good white settlers and savage, evil Indians. The book changed my view forever. And it got me thinking. How could whites sit at home and swallow this crap? And, come to think of it, what other crap was I being fed that I didn't know about? So this wonderful book kick started my enquiring mind. More than my class, more than my teachers, more than my parents.

When I joined the Woodcraft Folk in 1988 it still contained elements of "Red Indianism" that appealed to my romantic soul. Saying "How", totems etc. One tradition, not specific to the Woodcraft Folk, but used by them was "Folk names". They were used in the earlier days of the movement. The founder of the Folk, Leslie Paul, was known as "Little Otter".

Anyway I had named many comrades, young and old, around the Council Fire at camp. But I got my name by chance from an enrolled member of the Northern Cheyenne tribe in Montana. I had searched for years, looking for an exchange partner for the Folk among the tribes of Native Americans. Finally I was successful and visited the Boys and Girls Club of the Northern Cheyenne Nation in Lame Deer. I was picked up from the airport by Rick Robinson- the club's director. After 20 hours of flying I sat, shoulders hunched, head down staring at my feet in the Billings airport foyer. Someone tentatively said my name. I looked up to see a bloke with blue/grey eyes, shirt, jeans, cowboy boots and a moustache. "Rick?" I replied aghast. Yep, it was he. No brown eyes, no black hair, no buckskin! What the fuck had I been thinking anyhow?

Rick was a great host and put me up in his home. One evening we were "visiting" as tribal members liked to call chatting, and he mentioned a lad with the surname of Elkshoulder. The romantic in me emerged once more. "I love Native American names." I told Rick. "They're so poetic. I wish I had a Native American name" I said before I could stop myself sounding like a total prat. Well, there's an old saying. "Be careful what you wish for." Rick looked at me, pulled on his nose, rubbed his chin and drawled. "If you were a Native American, we'd call you 'walking Eagle'." I was gob smacked. "Walking Eagle!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Walking Eagle. Walking Eagle." I savoured the words like the taste of an expensive meal or good bottle of wine. "What does it mean?" I asked quickly.

Rick looked me in the eye for a second and held my gaze. The moment drew out, and he said with a slow deliberation, I shall never forget. "Too full of shit to fly!" We both laughed. Although I suspect he laughed harder than me!

And that is how I got my Folk name, and everyone...Cassie included agree, it suits me!

Out of Africa

Kaz and Jo went off to Kenya on Friday for two weeks. Its been Kaz' dream to do a safari as see the "big five". As Jo is 19 its a good opportunity for them to spend "quality time" together (I fucking hate that phrase! You feel it should always be inverted commas and was invented by some middle class wanker who liked the sound of his only voice... not like you at all then, I can hear you muttering.)

Anyway as a consequence I have my other two kids to myself and have spent the weekend decorating, washing, drying, cooking, cleaning up etc. Must be karma!

Its gonna sound soppy but I really miss Kaz already. I feel really unsettled and kind off out of focus. Know what I mean? Jesus she only left yesterday! I've got abother 13 days to go, with a full on workload to handle, including helping organise a Parliamentary lobby.

Tomorrow, more of the same. I tell ya, hats off to women and men who are lone parents!

...and he's back!

Jesus this blog stuff can be frustrating! I tried to write another entry a couple of days ago to find the site claimed my java and cookies weren't enabled. Followed the instructions but found it still didn't work. BASTARD MACHINE! Felt quite Luddish there for a moment.

Back to work tomorrow. The break has flown by and I am now faced with two weeks without Kaz at home. Hopefully she'll have a good time on holiday. I went to my best friend's Ty's house on New Years Eve. He cooked a green curry, the recipe from NASA, as far as I could tell. Nice but 'king hot! Watched the fire works on the tele at midnight- around the London Eye. Apparently they cost £1 million. Now I know I'm gonna sound like a miserable lefty git, but £1 million??? That's a lot of poppy to go up in smoke. I mean "Hello? Homeless people?" Bloody priorities are all over the place.

Walked in Sheepcote Valley this morning with the dog. The place was teaming with bird life- Thrushes, Blackbirds, Wagtails, Gold Finches, Crows and seagulls. Its really lovely to walk there in the morning.

Nearly midnight and should get some shut eye. Woodcraft Folk District meeting next Friday to discuss whether we attend the International Camp in 2006.

Really not ready to return to work!