Oct 222017
 

Duncan Harley reflects on Life, the Universe and Everything. A sideways look at the world and its foibles.

Nephrostomies work reasonably well but are, if truth be told, never particularly good. I mean, who in their right mind wants to wear a bag full of warm urine around their waist in summer. Not that anyone might know of course.
In the best possible taste, all is pretty well hidden apart from the drainage tube sticking out of one’s back.

In fact, the consultant, or at least one of them, cautioned that, although it all looks bleak – and I can tell you that this is true – no-one would really know that you are wearing one.

Really? I think not. Pissing, showering and anything to do with having sex are on the table as being difficult.

Having a shower involves a set routine.

First wash your hands. Then empty the urine bag. Ensure that a dry waist belt is available and then, and only then, take a shower. On emerging, dry off before changing belts. Make sure that you towel underneath the bag – otherwise you will need to suffer wet pants and worse. Above all, never sleep on your back and avoid turning in bed lest you put pressure on the bag. And, whenever it feels right, keep on with the hand-washing.

It’s a habit learned from the warnings on the wards – hospital acquired infections are rife. Hand-washing may defray death.

Simple really.

That’s an aside of course. Mainly, and apart from not being able to sleep on my back for the last 12 weeks, life is good.

The health-break has allowed a final edit to the new book. Taking it easy is fine if the head is allowed to engage after all.

The first post-surgical days were, to coin a phrase, a bit mad. An elder son had gifted a biography of a certain Bukowski as a birthday gift and I read it on the ward. Between bouts of surgically induced pain, the life and times of the man who variously wrote ‘Some people never go crazy, what truly horrible lives they must lead’ and ‘We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us’ made complete sense. All down to the morphine perhaps.

So, there we have it. There is nothing like a good nephrostomy really.

At least, in the big picture, I have had a chance to do a final edit to the new book. I had, until now, no idea how much work a book involved. As I sit recovering aside a pile of other people’s books I and my cat Lucy take heart that in a few weeks or so, I will become famous. Or infamous, depending on your stance, as the author of the A-Z of Curious Aberdeenshire.

After all everyone should write a book at least once in their lifetime and I count myself one of the lucky few who have finally made it into print. Lucy is not so sure.

Muchalls, David Toulmin and the doomed Marquis of Montrose all get a good mention alongside Inkson McConnachie, Victoria’s ‘brown Brown’ and of course Jock o’ Bennachie.

Here’s a wee extract:

“When John Reid wrote about his native North-east in his guise as David Toulmin,

he penned some memorable stories. His tale ‘Snowfire’ springs to mind. Hitler’s

armies are at the very gates of Moscow and the Russians are fighting for their

lives in the siege of Leningrad. It is 1942 and he records that the folk of Buchan

were getting the ‘tail-end’ of the Russian winter ‘so you dug the snow from the

turnip drills … and all you’d get for an afternoon’s work was enough to fill a horse

cart.’ During a fierce blizzard, the farm’s water supply freezes, leaving the drinking

troughs empty. When the beasts are finally let onto the frozen river to drink from a

hole in the ice, a German bomber appears overhead and the aircraft gunner sprays

the ice with bullets, sending the thirst-crazed animals to a watery doom.

Toulmin is nowadays internationally recognised as one of Aberdeenshire’s finest

exponents of the short story. Born on a farm at Rathen in Aberdeenshire, he

worked as a farm labourer and spent most of his life working long hours on

the land for very small rewards. In odd moments he jotted down short stories,

character studies and bothy tales. Eventually, he had a few articles printed in local

newspapers. The first of his ten books was published when he was 59. His literary

output consisted mostly of short stories and reminiscences, his one novel, Blown

Seed, painting a vivid and harsh picture of farm life as an indentured labourer.”

Wish me luck is all I can say.

Grumpy Jack

PS: the book is on pre-order at http://www.thehistorypress.co.uk/publication/the-a-z-of-curious-aberdeenshire/9780750983792/

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Oct 132017
 

The final curtain at ARI.

Duncan Harley reflects on Life, the Universe and Everything. A sideways look at the world and its foibles.

That’s me back from ARI. It’s a fine place if you are just visiting if truth be told. If you are an inmate, then maybe that’s quite a different story.

I went in with an open mind. After all the nice admission nurse only asked me stuff about the months of the year and my CHI Number. Seemingly if you are old and ill, they need to check that you are not mad.

What the feck is a CHI, I wondered while reciting the months backwards from D to J.

“Who is the Queen?” she said. I reflected on the various times I have almost met the monarch and still had no answer.

How should I know? After all she – that is if she is a she and not an ageing robot – only asked me what a spurtle was. Or was that her dead sister Margaret?

Fortunately, she refrained on this occasion from asking the dates of the beginning and end of the first war. I had that in my sights. Well it really depends on whether you think that the war ended on Armistice Day in 1918, or on Peace Day in 1919 or in 1946 after the surrender of Japan. Revisionist historians all around the globe have been arguing the point for decades and who am I to disagree.

Whatever, I doubt if Royals eat porridge anyway. And, if they did, they would probably deny it.

The folk in hospital-land were mainly really nice.

When the queen came to open the Chelsea Roof Garden, they served cake on a red tray complete with a bowl of Royal soup and something called Balmoral Chicken.

The folk on the ward ate it if they could apart from the man in bed four who was on a fast – before a procedure.

Like in Ramadan, we all – apart from the man in bed 2 – tried to eat unsuspiciously lest bed four became jealous.

In the end it came down to the keeping of the Royal menus. Bed 4 donated his meal to newly arrived bed 1 on condition that the Royal menu was kept for him as a souvenir.

More fool him. The kitchen staff, who normally issued copies of the food order, had that day decided to keep the food trays pristine.

Not for us the usual check-list of what we had – often in a morphine-induced dream state – ordered. For today there would be no auditing of food and no chance of complaining about a mis-order.

In my case, I ordered Glamorgan Cheese something or other from the Duchy of Cornwall plus a bowl of Royal Game Soup.

What arrived was Balmoral Hen complete with a stuffing of Game Haggis.

It was fine. And I can’t really complain. In fact, in all of my ARI days – the food was fab.

The company was generally good and there was a fine view of the new Wood multi-story car park from the window of the day room.

The dark side of the coin …

Well, there was the blood man.

Sad and a relic of a former self, he made me feel humbled as he stumbled around the ward.

Here is his tale. Read it if you dare and reflect quietly that it could be you or yours in a future year:

‘After the bloodbath of the night before, all seemed quiet in the ward. The blond bigmouth in the corner lay curled up beneath his hospital blanket and the sun streamed in through the blinds at the far end. An occasional phone went and the buzzers summoned the bustling staff.

Us of us patients who could, slept or read. And, just above the hum of the air-conditioning, an occasional snore could be heard.

The blood-man, for that is what we called him after the night before, had quietened down and was brought back into the ward. Bigmouth continued to complain to anyone who walked past. Seemingly he had been a victim of the night before and had had to have his bed changed due to spilt blood-soaked urine. Shamefully he told the night’s tale to the relatives next day despite ample warning from bed four that all that happens in the ward, stays in the ward. Such abominable patients can be a pain.

Naked and full of good intentions, the blood-man had – in the best possible taste – become unpopular. But what he had done must remain secret, for if revealed then heads might roll and his unpopularity might become infamy amongst his peers. And, we shouldn’t countenance that at any cost.

Suffice it to say that he had lost both his Press and Journal newspaper plus a full three pages from the Daily Telegraph. The loss of the P and J was easily solved. They say they sell 60 thousand of the bloody things each day in Aberdeen alone and the man in bed two happily donated a copy to compensate the blood-man’s loss.

As for the Telegraph, we were all at two’s and three’s. After all, the blood-man’s wife had seemingly taken the missing pages.

“I can’t find three of the pages of my Telegraph” he had said.

“My wife has probably taken them. It’s exactly the sort of thing she might do” he concluded.

We, apart from the blond bigmouth – who was by that time AWOL and possibly meeting a friend with vodka at the lift on level three – remained sceptical. But, of course you never really know what’s going through a man’s mind.

Maybe Mrs Blood-man had it in for the man. Or maybe she was simply looking out for him. Or maybe it was all in his imaginary world of pain, urine and shit.’

Grumpy Jack.

P.S. A huge thanks to the folk on 209. You do it well.

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Sep 012016
 

With thanks to Leanne Carter, Account Manager, Tricker PR.

Abseil 2a

Hall Morrice’s intrepid trio, Richard Stephenson, Jasmin Corbett and Emma Crossan will be abseiling to raise money for Grampian Hospitals Art Trust.

Three accountants hope that a daredevil stunt will add up to a significant donation for charity when they take the plunge and abseil 60ft down the side of Aberdeen Royal Infirmary next month.

The fearless threesome from Hall Morrice LLP – Richard Stephenson, Emma Crossan and Jasmin Corbett – will take on the challenge in aid of the Grampian Hospitals Art Trust, which is a client of their firm.

They will be among dozens of brave fund-raisers lining up to carry out the abseil from one of the oldest healthcare buildings in Aberdeen on September 18.

It is not the first time that Richard has undertaken such a stunt – just a year ago he completed an abseil from the tower of the Aberdeen Conference and Exhibition Centre in aid of another of Hall Morrice’s clients, Transition Extreme.

On that occasion the height of the tower was 40ft but the added 20ft on the ARI building does not faze 29-year-old Richard.

He says,

“The last abseil was great fun: it was the first time that I’d ever done one, and I’m looking forward to the added challenge of that extra 20ft.

“I’m also really pleased that this time I’ll have company. Emma and Jasmin are both really excited to be doing it, and it’s great that we can do it as a team.

“We are always looking at ways that we can add value to what we do for clients, but this is certainly one of the more unusual ways of approaching that.

“However, we think the Trust does fantastic work that impacts on people from all walks of life in the communities we operate in, so we are only too delighted to support what they do.”

Grampian Hospitals Art Trust has been working to create a positive, calming and welcoming environment at hospitals and clinics throughout the region for the past 30 years.

The charity now holds the largest art collection within the health care sector in Scotland – some 4.500 pieces in total – and these are located throughout the Grampian area in order to make medical buildings less daunting.

In addition to curating the works of art, the Trust also organises special projects in some of the region’s hospitals where patients can create their own art to take home with them. This process helps patients associate the experience of being in hospital with something positive.

Hall Morrice partner Shonagh Fraser, who specialises in charities and the third sector, adds,

“We are all extremely proud of our three team members for volunteering to do this. It’s very brave and definitely goes above and beyond the call of duty.

“I think this just goes to underline the ethos of the whole firm in that we want to provide an excellent service, but want to ensure that we can support our clients beyond the services that we offer.”

An online fund-raising page has been set up to help the trio raise sponsorship money at https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Hall-Morrice-ARi-Abseil-2016

Founded in 1976, Hall Morrice celebrates its 40th anniversary this year and is one of Scotland’s leading independent firms of chartered accountants with offices in Aberdeen and Fraserburgh. Based at 6 and 7 Queens Terrace in Aberdeen, Hall Morrice can be contacted on 01224 647394 or at accounts@hallmorrice.co.uk

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Jul 212016
 

With thanks to Phil Moar, Account Manager, Citrus:Mix.

BON ACCORD BIG BOUNCE EVENT AT THE ST NICHOLAS CENTRE, ABERDEEN.

Nearly £8,000 has been raised for charity after a new event had a city centre garden jumping for joy.

Big Bounce at Bon Accord welcomed kids and big kids to the greenspace last month (June 25-26) for the fundraising event which saw attendees able to enjoy eight inflatables installed within the space.

From bungee runs to bouncy castles, people turned out in their numbers to support Bon Accord & St Nicholas in its fundraising efforts for both CLAN Cancer Support and Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital Charity. 

The event also fell under the UK-wide One Great Day initiative.

As well as the inflatables, a range of pop-up food and drink retailers were also present, with music and entertainment throughout both days adding to the party atmosphere.

On Friday (June 24), the fundraising effort was also aided by five classes from Walker Road Primary School carrying out a sponsored Mini Bounce within the garden, with pupils each playing their part in helping their class jump continuously for 30 minutes. The big-hearted school’s efforts added more than £1,100 to the overall fundraising total.

Craig Stevenson, centre manager at Bon Accord & St Nicholas, said:

Susan Crighton, CLAN’s fundraising manager, said:

“The Big Bounce weekend was a fantastic new addition to the city centre event calendar and we’re thrilled to have been selected as one of the beneficiaries of the day.

“I’d also like to say a massive thank you to all those who took the time to visit over the course of the weekend and a special mention to the fantastic efforts of the Walker Road pupils who went above and beyond with their own fundraising session.

“Money raised for CLAN through the One Great Day initiative will go towards the charity’s provision of free wellbeing and support services for anyone affected by cancer across the north and north-east of Scotland; it really will make a massive difference.”

One Great Day is the brainchild of Bon Accord & St Nicholas owner BMO Real Estate and sees a range of local fundraising events held at over 60 shopping centres across the UK. All funds raised go towards Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital and other local charities.

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Mar 172016
 

Colin CampbellWith thanks to Beverly Tricker, Tricker PR.

Langstane, Scotland’s largest independent office products company, yesterday announced completion of the highest value contract in its seven decade history – a £1.6m deal to supply office and patient furniture to the new Queen Elizabeth University Hospital in Glasgow.

The firm provided and installed 20,000 individual pieces in total at three buildings within the hospital complex; the children’s hospital, the teaching and learning centre and the administration block.

Langstane has been supplying office furniture to the NHS in Scotland for nine years, but this competitively tendered contract is the largest single contract which the firm has delivered under their framework agreement.

“Langstane is known as a provider of quality office furniture,” says managing director Colin Campbell,

“so, the move to also provide patient care furniture such as chairs, over bed tables and patient lockers was a natural product extension for us. As a trusted NHS provider, we were able to use our established track record in delivering office furniture on time and within budget for them and to diversify our product range to satisfy this comprehensive contract requirement.

“We have worked on many major office furniture contracts such as the provision of all furniture for the Prime Four Business Park offices at Kingswells on the outskirts of Aberdeen, but this Glasgow-based contract is the largest one which we have ever undertaken and shows that with our divisions across Scotland, Langstane can provide ‘any time, anywhere and any quantity’.”

The furniture supplied to the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital included high back wing back arm chairs, over bed tables, patient lockers, coffee tables, desks, stacking chairs with writing tablets, wall mounted storage and sofas.

The Langstane team was involved from the planning stages of the project, consulting with the client and contractors and providing suggested layouts. This was followed by product sample days where staff and client focus groups could share their thoughts on the planned furniture pieces and the layouts.

The simultaneous construction of the three buildings which were to be furnished provided logistical challenges. Langstane devised a complex delivery schedule which included direct site delivery from manufacturers in one hour slots to allow the Langstane team and the sub contractors to unload and position each drop to allow the build process to take place on site.

“The provision of patient care furniture has diversified our Langstane product range,” adds Colin,

“but such diversification is not new to Langstane. Our business has been built on a process of continually asking our clients what else we can do for them from the post-wars days when my father and uncles began providing pencils and pens to their customers when they delivered their print orders.

Our four divisions of office supplies, office furniture, printing and promotional products can deliver a comprehensive range of everything an office needs and now we can deliver the same complete package to the patient care sector from new hospital complexes like the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital to individual GPs surgeries and care homes.”

Langstane is Scotland’s largest independent office products company and is one of the largest in the UK. Langstane, established in 1947 in Aberdeen remains a family business and has further branches in Dundee, Livingstone and Inverurie. Langstane employs over 137 staff and has a turnover of £17.5m. More about the company can be found at www.langstane.co.uk.

Oct 222015
 

With thanks to Esther Green, Tricker PR.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Spelling it out – using art to say thank you to Aberdeen Asset Management’s Charitable Foundation for its support in the Teapot Trust.

Aberdeen Asset Management’s Charitable Foundation has ‘poured’ a cash donation into a pioneering art therapy service that helps to reduce feelings of stress and anxiety for children attending hospital in Aberdeen.

The Teapot Trust provides professional art therapy to children with chronic illnesses in medical settings, including clinics, hospital wards and hospices across Scotland.

Young children don’t always have the words to describe how they feel but making art often leads to them being able to share worries non-verbally, helping children gain confidence and feel more in control and able to cope with their condition.

The Trust’s art therapists work with children who have chronic illnesses, and their families, at the Royal Aberdeen Children’s Hospital in Aberdeen, and the Aberdeen Asset Management Charitable Foundation will fund the Open Group work there for a year with a grant of £7236.

The Open Group is an innovative service tailored for hospital outpatient departments.

Any child attending clinic can visit the art table to paint, draw, make a collage or model clay and engage with an art therapist if they wish. The group helps to reduce anxiety before medical procedures, as well as providing a safe space for children to express feelings about their illness that may be difficult to talk about.

After they lost their eight year old daughter Verity to cancer, East Lothian parents Laura and John Young set up the Teapot Trust in her memory. Verity had a life based around tests, medications, hospital visits and illness but art gave her a way to expressing herself, and this activity became essential for the family’s coping strategy.

The charity operates across Scotland employing nine art therapists on a part-time basis. As well as open group art therapy, the Teapot Trust provides  small group/ward based art therapy for children who are hospitalised, and one-to-one art therapy for those who need additional support to help them cope.

The Trust does not receive any NHS funding so it is reliant on the generosity of individual donors and grants like the one from Aberdeen Asset Management’s Charitable Foundation  – it takes over £230,000 each year to continue its work with children and young people.

Founder Laura Young commented:

“The Teapot Trust is delighted to be awarded a grant of £7236 from Aberdeen Asset Management Charitable Foundation for the Open Group. These children face a lifetime of having to cope with their condition. They and their families are often highly anxious about hospital appointments, and art therapy is proven to reduce anxiety, encourage self-expression, promote healthy coping mechanisms and can be used by the medical teams as a communication tool.

“This year we expect to help almost 400 children attending out-patient clinics in Aberdeen.”

Parents deeply value  and appreciate the role the service plays in supporting families at what can be a challenging and difficult time.

One parent whose child attended open group art therapy commented:

“My daughter was very upset when she arrived at the hospital but as soon as she saw the painting she calmed down and immediately joined in. The art therapists were extremely kind and encouraging and what had been a horrible experience was turned into fun. This also made the medical procedures later much more straightforward.”

Health experts have also spoken of the importance of art therapy helping children with illness and Professor Sir Kenneth Calman, ex-Chief Medical Officer said: “Arts and creativity is remarkably helpful and positive in hospital. The work of The Teapot Trust is quite inspirational.”

Dominic Kite  of the Aberdeen Asset Management Charitable Fund said:

“We are very pleased to be able to support the Teapot Trust which provides such a valuable and important  service to children and their families.

“Being ill and going to hospital places a huge emotional strain on families, and through art therapy, the Teapot Trust is able  to provide friendship, security, discussion, respite and relief.”

The Aberdeen Asset Charitable Foundation was established in 2012 to formalise and develop the Group’s charitable giving globally. The Foundation seeks partnerships with smaller charities around the world, where funds can be seen to have a meaningful and measurable impact and  the firm encourages its employees to use their time and skills to support its charitable projects. For more information visit http://www.aberdeen-asset.co.uk/aam.nsf/foundation/home

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Mar 072013
 

Voice’s Andrew Watson writes about some of his very unusual and disturbing past experiences which warranted  intervention from mental health services.

I thought I got www.MxTabs.net hauled off the web, in June 2006, because I made an entry about what had – just – happened to me.  I really want to elaborate, partly because I never really talk about it/get the opportunity:

By all accounts, it was, in comparison to a second episode, a minor psychotic episode.

I was on Beta Blockers, and my mum, to aid my sleep, got herbal remedy sleeping pills, which apparently don’t mix.

I’ve been obsessed with aliens ever since I watched a disturbing documentary on the Discovery Channel, when I was a kid. The one image etched upon my brain, seemingly, was that of a stained glass window (Scientology?!) of a man holding an alien (Grey) baby.

Put it this way, I saw/heard things that didn’t seem possible, through the blinds in my bedroom, looking out onto the back garden. I never saw anything (Grey) eye to eye, and I was relatively brave, but I dared not fucking contemplate going in that back garden.

It started with, basically, my room being untidy.  I wonder if, and I fully embrace both literal/lateral-cum-of-the-brain/of-the-mind, this was the catalyst.  Distress, or whatever.   I’m normally very tidy, and when I went for counselling as an outpatient at Aberdeen’s psychiatric hospital not long after (surprise, surprise.  I felt sorry for my parents, though), I narrowly avoided being diagnosed with OCD!

The bed was strewn with magazines, ‘Record Collector’ and ‘Leopard’ (which I love) and other titles that mean nothing to me, these days!  Anyway, I thought I’d, somehow, get this mess sorted in the morning; and just sleep on the floor.  So I got my sleeping bag out my wardrobe.

Basically, my white coat morphed into a Grey.  It seemed unreal and like a mirage, but unsettled me big time.  One thing led to another, and I found myself glued to my swivel chair.  Not through paralysis, which I would experience years later, but just fear.  I could’ve fought it, conceivably, but didn’t.

I had bamboo wick blinds, or whatever your call them.  The gaps probably cover up just under 75% of all you see outside.  Suddenly the tree I was staring at, a bare one with many twigs, seemed to spring to life.  I later developed a distinct hatred of that tree, and would always tell my parents I wanted to clip it – from the top!

Many nights converge into one at this point.

This is because an antennae-esque thing appeared to fly from outwith my peripheral vision and into plain sight.  It nestled on top of the dainty twig on top, probably the main ‘vein’ of the tree’s root, if you like.

I suppose it was a bush more than anything else, but it was quite tall.

It seemed like a ‘drone’, and I cannot shake, albeit a vague feeling that that’s exactly what it was.  It went on to project Game Boy-esque graphics, largely derivative of ‘Donkey Kong’ (Mario before ‘Super Mario Brothers’).

I traded telekinetic thoughts.  I say ‘thoughts’ because it wasn’t a typical schizophrenic experience with voices – just thought patterns that seemed ‘external’.  There’s no other way I can put it.

Many nights converge into one at this point.  I can’t remember if the stampeding feet – no voices – were heard before or after that night.  There was a low-slung mist right through the house when I eventually plucked up the courage to go upstairs, to my parents’ bedroom.

I can’t go into too much detail about my second major episode because it was far more convoluted than the above.  I ended up, because the first period left no lasting effect (‘affectation’?!), being heavily medicated for my problems.   I had a massive ‘Word’ file, upwards of about 69,000 words detailing all this, but conveniently lost it.  No conspiracy, mind.  I categorically do NOT say that ‘sarcastically’, rather more in a forlorn manner.

The thought patterns, prompted by footsteps and ticking clocks, etc have persisted, as I say, but have been suppressed in the long run.  It’s now jibberish and random, rather than posing any sort of intimidation or threat.

It took THREE changes of medication, during which I attempted suicide TWICE, before things were resolved.  Thinking about it, I’m furious I took an overdose then subsequently tried to hang myself.  Not because I think it’s selfish.  You think you’re doing people (my family, primarily) a massive favour; but you aren’t, in reality.

I’m annoyed at the incompetence and irresponsibility of professional people, many – but not all, I hasten to add – earning salaries upwards of £50,000.

I’m up in the early hours writing this – and I’m a tad scared

The overall word I would use to describe how I felt throughout that time would be DREAD.  It’s a horrible fucking feeling that not many people know the definition of; and I can’t say I’m proud to know its meaning, either.

The thing is, and I apologise profusely if I sound like a horror writer (Whitley Strieber and his ‘Communion’, anyone?) but I’m up in the early hours writing this – and I’m a tad scared.  More so half an hour ago, though.  I say this because my sister now sleeps in the bedroom downstairs, which used to be mine.

Though I just jumped when, most likely/literally/’brainy’ I heard a noise, earlier on, I was thinking about ‘me’, not my sister.  If anything were to happen, at the very least I’d probably end up in Cornhill, again.  I’ve been there three times, once as outpatient twice as inpatient.  I’ve got no fucking intention of going back, any time soon.  My faculties are in order; I just get restless and find it hard to sleep, sometimes.

*MxTabs was actually shut down for copyright issues; though I do sometimes wonder, to be honest.*

Dec 032012
 

Old Susannah casts her beady eye around the ‘Deen – and this week, far beyond! By Suzanne Kelly

Tally Ho! Apologies for the late-running of this service but Old Susannah has been in New York and Glasgow over the past 10 days or so.

The biggest news of the week is the annual Glenfiddich Spirit of Scotland Top Scot award going to Michael Forbes, Menie resident and nemesis of Donald Trump. Many congratulations on an award well deserved.

It was disheartening to see New York in such a state; there is a huge, under-used park at the very centre of Manhattan.

Because this central park hasn’t been successfully transformed into a vibrant, dynamic, iconic web, New York is closed for business. Retail trade is down, with many small family-owned, non-chain store businesses operating throughout the greater Manhattan area instead of multinationals and pound shops.

This park also has major connectivity problems. Some if it is actually below street level! Yes, really. Other parts have a wall separating the park from the street, and people have to travel a few blocks to get to the next entrance.

To make things even worse, some of the park is even higher than street level. I hear a delegation from New York will travel to Aberdeen soon to look at the web plans, and see if the Granite Web can’t be built over Manhattan.

Until such time, New Yorkers will have to suffer the consequences – little tourism, hardly any business, and not much going on culturally.

If they were to just set up their own version of ACSEF, I’m sure the local taxpayers would be happy to fund an unelected quango that knew better on all issues than elected officials, and do whatever it said without question.

Then it was on to Glasgow.

For some reason, the streets there don’t have much going for them. Well, not in the way of litter, potholes and broken pavements anyway. The public transportation is affordable, clean and frequent – even after 6pm!

One really tough-looking guy on the underground strode purposely near where I was standing – to put a used ticket into a used ticket bin. Must have been something wrong with him.

Returning to BrewDog on Monday evening, I bought the last two bottles of Ghost Deer. This truly delicious beer is the world’s strongest fermented beer (and it has fetching artwork).

I also managed to buy one of the last limited edition Ghost Deer t-shirts, so I am well chuffed at having something to wear when I next see Aileen Malone.

Ghost Deer is marketed as ‘an audacious blend of eccentricity, artistry and rebellion.’ It reminds me of someone, I just can’t figure out who.

 Want a few weeks off work? Stop washing your hands when you use restrooms and stop disinfecting surfaces

The deer theme continued at Aberdeen Art Centre as I attended an opening of work by Nicky Cairney and her mother, Angela Cairney. The show was well attended and the work is very varied, with themes of nature, man’s interference with nature, and environment the overriding themes.

Please do go and see it, especially the silhouette work concerning Tullos Hill and golf. When lit in different ways, these dioramas throw powerful shadows with more than a little hint of political commentary.

Before moving on to some seasonal definitions, something seems to be wrong with the council. When the first icy days hit us, salt and sand were being used on the roads AND pavements. I really don’t know what they’re playing at – you didn’t get this kind of thing happening when Kate Dean was convener. Let’s see if they keep it up.

Cold weather also can mean an increase in viruses. A few unpleasant illnesses are doing the rounds, so try and stay well. Here are some definitions which may help.

MRSA Virus (noun) a strain of the staphylococcus bacterium which can cause serious infections in people, and which is becoming increasingly immune to antibiotics.

Want a few weeks off work? Stop washing your hands when you use restrooms and stop disinfecting surfaces. Also forget all that nonsense about using a tissue once, throwing it away, and then washing your hands. That’s for wimps.

It’s an awfully good thing that Aberdeen Royal Infirmary and Grampian NHS ensure all the wards in our area are spotless. I was told you could eat off the floor in Ward 49, for instance. Bring a knife and fork.

It’s important to remember that if you get an infection that needs antibiotics, the doctor doesn’t really want you to finish the whole course of medicine. Just take a few pills, stop after a day or two, then be totally surprised when you don’t get better. You’re doing a good deed for biodiversity by making bugs stronger and stronger. Result!

However, there is a more serious hospital virus going around. At present, there is only one known case.  This case is, however, in our area – so do be vigilant…

MRCS Virus (noun) new strain of hospital virus causing computers to imply doctors have more qualifications than they do. Pity poor Doctor (???) Muhammad Ishaque.

It’s clear that ARI takes checking references seriously

This trainee doctor worked in Aberdeen Royal Infirmary, where he picked up this curious disease. Unfortunately, the highly-trained professionals at ARI failed to spot this virus before he was hired. Perhaps a better check-up of incoming doctors is called for.

To most people in the medical profession MRCS means Member of the Royal College of Surgeons.  The implication if you got an email from said trainee was that they were a qualified, recognised surgeon. This trainee didn’t exactly have all of the medical qualifications his computer said he had. Instead, he claimed he contracted the MRCS virus on his computer at the hospital.

This rare virus causes a trainee doctor’s outgoing emails to magically contain the letters MRCS after the trainee’s name. Scientists are baffled at the emergence of this new virus, and are closely studying Ishaque, the only known sufferer in the world.

So by all means clean your hands – but clean your hard drives as well.

I guess it’s no big deal – as the ARI seems to insist – that this person examined people. They say he was always working alongside a fully trained doctor. It’s not as if people expect a person examining them would have been fully vetted before allowed anywhere near the public.

I’m thinking of going along for a job as well – guess if I work with a qualified doctor, no one would mind being examined, advised or probed, would they? It’s clear that ARI takes checking references seriously. Otherwise, we might wind up with people being treated badly in hospital, and that simply couldn’t happen here.

Funnily enough, there is a long-running rumour that a form of this virus may be at work in Aberdeen City Council computers, a rumour that says not all officers have all the qualifications they claim to hold. Obviously the city’s HR team check and double-check all references.

Gift Cards (modern English noun) A procurement card with a given amount of credit, which allows the holder to buy goods and services.

Poor former administration of Aberdeen City Council. Despite having teams of accountants, financial experts, staff of all descriptions and black-and-white procurement procedures, they just couldn’t find a way for some essential purchases to be made. Easy to understand, I’m sure.

Instead of being hassled with procurement rules, they bought and dished out tens of thousands of pounds worth of Tesco gift cards. Result! ACC staff obviously bought just what they needed for their jobs, kept receipts, and filed accurate business expense claims.

Maybe instead of going to work as a doctor for ARI, I should just get a job at ACC and some Tesco gift cards

Old Susannah remembers the story of an enterprising social worker who did their best to stimulate the economy by purchasing much-needed goods. Mind you, technically some of these purchases should have successfully made it into the hands of the people the social worker was caring for, rather than being used by said social worker for personal use.

That’s just splitting hairs, though. Some thoughtful social workers have, so I am led to believe, given a wee bit of help to their clients when it is time to vote as well. What a comprehensive service!

Back to the use of Tesco gift cards. According to STV:

“The fact that money seems to have been spent towards the end of the financial year, that some things were bought that were inappropriate expenditure and the fact that a certain area was stockpiling cards in (sic) unacceptable.”

Another little fact of city council budgeting is that departments might lose funds in the following year if they did anything rash – like not spending all of the money they were allocated in the current year. This is how we encourage departments to do all they can to save money. I’m just not exactly sure how that is working out.

Hmmm. I wonder who gets to keep the Tesco Club card points, worth a fair bit of money, air miles and free pizza? I think we should be told. That’s an awful lot of points someone’s got. Who, I wonder, has them?

Clearly the financial records will show that such points are retained and used by the council, as the purchaser of the gift cards. Maybe instead of going to work as a doctor for ARI, I should just get a job at ACC and some Tesco gift cards.

That’s almost it for this week – but to cheer everyone up, Aberdeenshire Council is ‘manning up’ and getting tough on crime. Yes, at this festive time of year, there can be an upsurge in street crime.

But hooray! The shire is going to save us all from the scourge of – too much bunting, banners and festive lights. According to the council, there will be a crackdown on this kind of unwanted, hazardous, illegal activity.

Meanwhile over at the Menie Estate…

Next week:  more festive definitions.

Confidential note to the person with the Saltire posting fetish: great – good for you – keep putting the Saltire up but can you please stop nailing your signs into living trees? You’re not doing the trees any favours.

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Jul 212011
 

Old Susannah looks back at the week that was and wonders who’s up to what and why.  By Suzanne Kelly.

The Belmont Cinema’s screening the documentary ‘Just Do It’on Friday 12 August, and has asked me to come along for a discussion. It’s a film about people taking direct action against an unlistening, unmovable government and wealthy, powerful private entities, so it won’t be of much interest to the people of Aberdeen.

I guess they want someone to come along and stick up for the City and its rich business interests, and the Belmont thought of me. If you can make it, it will be at 6.30. Further details to follow.

The dodgy doings in Aberdeen are slightly outshone this week by the continuing twists and turns in the News Corp / News of the World saga.  One initial whistle-blower Sean Hoare was mysteriously found dead (‘nothing suspicious’ the police advised almost immediately. A Post Mortem will no doubt confirm this assessment).  

People are walking around Parliament with shaving-cream pies unchallenged by our crack security forces, Rupert knows nothing about anything, and Rebekah Brooks deserves an Oscar.

While I commend Private Eye Magazine for its coverage (only going back to 1969 or so) of Murdoch and his bid for world dominance at any cost, I cannot tell you how disappointed I am that it has chosen to criticise our fair city in the same issue. 

The Eye implies that something was wrong with the City Garden Monitoring Group’s  ‘redacting’ (that’s blacking bits out to you and me) its minutes and reports.  Undoubtedly,  this was only done after careful thought and for reasons of national security.  I therefore hope no one is planning to buy Private Eye No. 1293 (on newsstands now, £1.50, subscription deals available).

I certainly hope no one will be reading its ‘Nooks and Corners’ feature (page 17) where our city’s elected officials are criticised.  There is also a piece in this issue entitled ‘Orwellian Nightmare’ – but as it happens, this is not about Aberdeen after all.

Not only are the redacted minutes mentioned in The Eye, but also Mike Shepherd’s open letter to the City regarding Union Terrace Gardens is covered.  Mike  if you’re out there:– just because the City doesn’t know what’s going to go in the Gardens, or how much it will cost, or what the environmental impact will be, or where the money will come from, or what the external design people are going to do does not necessarily mean the City doesn’t know what it’s doing.

Let’s hope Private Eye stops peering into our City – how else are they getting their information?

fantastic news that we’ve decided to hire some external consultants to figure out our City’s small financial problems  

It’s not as if anyone here would be so bold as to contact the Eye (strobes@private-eye.co.uk) and give information – particularly now that the Council has sent letters warning staff not to tell anyone anything about anything ever in any form.  I would hate to think of any secrets getting out.  Not that there are any secrets of course.

This week I wanted to take another look at how much our City is spending on essentials (like portraits, parties, clothing allowances, consultants, expenses and so on).  My curiosity sprang from the fantastic news that we’ve decided to hire some external consultants to figure out our City’s small financial problems.

The vote to hire these consultants may have been taken without any meaningful consultation, and these consultants will cost some £500,000 or more (that’s about £2 quid from each of us).  But I somehow feel we’re breaking new ground here by using outside consultants (although I seem to remember when Kate Dean was in charge, and she had absolutely no idea how many millions were spent on consultants).

It will be great having experts on hand – obviously we don’t have any in the City given the small salaries we pay our top people.  I’m sure the unions  will come around to the City’s way of thinking about consultants and cuts, even if a few jobs may wind up axed.   As a reminder, the City collected hundreds of suggestions from its own staff as to  how to save money some time ago.

The City will be sharing these suggestions with the consultants (you can refer to them as ‘con men’ for short), and I’ll bet that staff whose ideas are taken up will be financially compensated as well as credited for their ideas.  It’s not as if consultants would do anything lazy like take the good ideas on board and pass them off as their own ideas – that’s never going to happen.

I guess this will be a really tough assignment for the consultants – let’s wish them luck and not be surprised if they go a wee bit over budget. Expect some vibrant and dynamic bills to pay for these as-yet unnamed consultants who (I bet) will tell us to outsource services.  “What do you mean by  ‘outsourcing’?” I hear you say.

Outsource:

(verb, mod English – to move services from public sector control to the private sector).

So Aberdeen’s voted to bring in private consultants who will evaluate if services should be made private.  It will all be fine.  There is just one funny coincidence when cities outsource services at consultant’s recommendations – the consultants usually pick up more business for helping to  implement the outsourcing.  It is almost as if the consultants have some kind of incentive to recommend outsourcing.

In the health sector for instance, lots of dosh can be saved

Unkind people think consultants are self-interested greedy unaccountable entities, but nothing could be farther from the truth.  Remember, the City is  there to make money, not to waste tax money on good services and keeping our environment healthy.

We know from experience in the UK that outsourcing services such as healthcare is always a money-saving way to get better services in the end.  Local governments stop directly running services with its own staff, and then private service providers and subcontractors take over the service in question using the cheapest labour available.

Even though private companies exist to make a profit and the taxpayer still has to pay for the services (which almost always cost more when the private sector runs things), then at least the services are off the local authority’s books.  Which is a good thing.

In the health sector for instance, lots of dosh can be saved.  So what if our hospitals have crumbled, corners have been cut to make money at every turn, infections run rampant, and good nurses are leaving the profession in droves.  The private consultants still make money.   It’s not as if there have been any scandals, tales of incompetence or abuse of vulnerable people when the private sector takes over.

Usually a local authority puts one or two of its best people on the board of service providers and health boards to ensure perfection is achieved.  Grampian Health has Kate Dean for instance.  Southern Cross is a shining example of what we can expect in the ‘Deen should we keep outsourcing.

Civic Car

(noun peculiar to Aberdeen – a ride for dignitaries which has been well and truly ‘pimped,’ just in case royalty should come to town for a day or two ever).

I am getting far too excited by the prospect of the unveiling of the Lord Provost’s portrait.  I started to wonder how the Lord and his Lady (and the security guard) get around town.  I had hoped it was in a pumpkin-shaped horse-drawn coach.

At one point the horrific suggestion was made that the Civic Car should be a second-hand affair! 

Do they get around of their own accord?  Perhaps by a Honda Accord?  No, not an Accord, but a Civic.  No, not a Honda Civic – but The Civic Car.   (By the way our LP was spotted in Kingswells yesterday morning in some sort of football mum’s 4×4 near a grass verge with 3 other men – but a man like him needs more bling than that).

The existence of the Civic Car explains another excellent use of our Common Good Fund, and I for one could not be happier.

How much does a Civic Car take per year from our collective  Common Good fund?

Well, in 2009/10, here are the published figures for the upkeep of said Civic:-

Upkeep of Civic Car: budget £ 51,332; at 31 March 2010 £44,749 ‘estimated out turn’ £53,122
(Figures from Aberdeen City Council)

Clearly the salary isn’t enough to attract anyone to the Lord Provost role; it’s only £28k per year.  However, cruising in the Civic car for the Lord Provost alone cost… £23k.  In these days of economising, I’m glad to see standards haven’t fallen.  At one point the horrific suggestion was made that the Civic Car should be a second-hand affair!

Thankfully, there was no way they could find a second-hand car grand enough for the job, as you would rightly expect. Here’s why this symbol of Aberdeen’s status is more important than your local school, hospital, or service:-

“The level of baseline specification for the Civic Car has to give full consideration to the Lord Provost’s role as Lord-Lieutenant. The Lord Provost is Her Majesty’s representative when in Aberdeen. The official ‘Guide to the Role of Lord-Lieutenants’ says that “it is his first and foremost duty to uphold the dignity of the Crown”. The Civic Car is used during Royal Visits and has been used in the past to transport members of the Royal Family as part of these visits to Aberdeen.

“Other duties of the Lord-Lieutenant are to meet visiting Heads of State within Aberdeen, to represent The Queen or a member of the Royal Family at a funeral or memorial service when requested, to make nominations for invitations to Royal Garden Parties, to offer congratulations of 100th birthdays and significant wedding anniversaries, make nominations for honours and awards, presentation of awards and to support and participate in citizenship ceremonies. During the course of discharging some of these responsibilities, use of the Civic Car by the Lord-Lieutenant or his representative will be necessary”.

I confess I once allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to be Lord Provost.  You’d get the necklace.  You’d get the clothing allowance.  You’d even get trips to Edinburgh sometimes.  But having read the above job description, I realise no ordinary person could do all of that, and I now have the respect for this office that it truly deserves.  I hope all you council clerks and office staff realise now how comparatively easy you have it; in fact you might ask yourselves whether you are being overpaid.

And why am I so interested in all the City’s necessary expenditures like parties, flash cars, portraits, statutes, travel abroad and so on?  Because John Stewart is so concerned about such things.  Stewart’s so worried that in a recent vote concerning the future of Union Terrace  Gardens, he put up a motion to ‘change’ the gardens.   Part of his motion reads:-

“…that should the competition fail to produce a design acceptable to the Council, officers prepare a report for members detailing the costs of maintaining and enhancing the existing gardens”.

 Before we have our very own Lord Provost going about in a second-hand  ‘Beamer,’ it would be far smarter to see what those pesky gardens are costing us in petunias and rose bushes.

And quite right.  Before we have our very own Lord Provost going about in a second-hand ‘Beamer,’ it would be far smarter to see what those pesky gardens are costing us in petunias and rose bushes.  (from the looks of things, we have more than enough free fertiliser in the area).  As John famously said, there’s not much in the gardens but grass.

Who’s footing the bill for all this grass?  Why isn’t it turning a profit?  What can we do to stop this wasteful expense so we can have more to spend on consultants, pictures and parties?  Is there a consultant in the house?

In some 9 months you will be asked to vote for councillors; some of whom think they stand a good chance of getting re-elected.  These self-sacrificing souls will be happy to hear that Old Susannah will be creating a little matrix of how they’ve voted and what they’ve done (ie kerb-crawling,  misappropriation of public funds, and pub slap-ups).

For openers, here are the names of those who agree with John Stewart that we should get a report on the massive costs of keeping UTG going and all that grass growing:

For the amendment by Councillor John Stewart (23) – Lord Provost Peter Stephen (note – it’s great that our Civic Car man and artist’s model wants to save money by cutting out the gardens!) ; Depute Provost Dunbar; and Councillors Corall, Cormack, Cormie, Dean, Donnelly, Fletcher, Jaffrey, Kiddie, Leslie, McCaig, McDonald, Malone, May, Milne, Noble, Robertson, John Stewart, Kevin Stewart, John West, Wisely and Yuill.

I’m going to have to leave it there for now.  Between thinking about deer, Union Terrace Gardens, consultants, portraits and civic cars I’m starting to feel a little nauseous again (I was sick the past 4  days with a nasty stomach bug which I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies. Would I?).

Coming soon A look at our local government and quango Boards, and hopefully overdue news on my Freedom of Information Requests.

Jul 152011
 

Charlie Mingin, the Auchnaclatt Bugle’s ‘Weel-Chilled Chiel’ columnist, guests for Voice this week, giving the bebop lowdown for hep cats and byre tabbies, doffing his hiply-angled Panama in the direction of The Fast Show’s Louis Balfour. Fingerprints on Cattle Cake’s ‘bone believed to be those of George Anderson….

Jock Kerouac and the Beet Generation on the road again after sell out concert in Daviot

Within twenty minutes of going on sale, both tickets for Coos in the Park had been snapped up amid fears that a surge in demand might crash Ticketmaster’s system.

I was one of the lucky ones. The minute the ticket tumbled through my letterbox, a vibe in these old jazzman bones of mine told me that something crazy was about to go down in Daviot.

And was I right, Daddy-O?

The concert in The Byre, the north east’s premier teuchter-jazz club demonstrated that Jock Kerouac and The Beet Generation were right back on top where they belonged. On the night, their fusion of bothy ballads and sixties jazz really razzed my berries.

Yes, there were mistakes. Somewhere approaching the middle eight of the opening number, Lousin Time, and half way through his third reefer of the night, Jock realised that the double bass he thought he’d been playing for the last half hour was actually still in the tipper truck that ca’d neeps during the day and transported the band to gigs in the evening. Undaunted, he rattled off the piece’s twenty minute double bass solo on his galuses. Beat that for improvisation.

I’ve been a fan of The Beet Generation since I first saw them perform at Gamrie’s Clockin Hen nightclub in 1987. Granted, nobody asked them to play but they managed to knock off their own rewrite of a Billy Joel classic, In the Midden of the Night before the bouncers got Jock in a headlock, huckled him head first out through the fire exit and into the car park where they pinned him down until the police arrived.

The band’s line up hasn’t changed since the Gamrie gig:

Jock Kerouac on double bass
Ronnie ‘The Rooser’ Roberts on Stylophone
‘Cattle Cake’ Collins on slide trombone
‘Sheep Dip’ Danny Dawkins on trumpet, electric bongos and steam harpsichord.

The first set was an intoxicating blend of old and new material, kicking off with three of my favourites: Lousin Time; Let’s Get Yokit! and Fa Cut Yer Hair an Cried Ye Baldy?

The lads ended the set with the title track from their latest album, We’re Aa Up the Wrang Dreel Noo.

Haste ye back, Jock, we can hardly wait for your next concert.

At the risk of rekindling the trad-bebop wars of the early sixties, Sid Rawlins, music critic of the Crovie Chronicle has given Voice an alternative view.

Bad Tunes A Go-Go as Kerouac’s Beet Generation Bomb at the Byre

Hepcat Harrison and the Kittlins were treated for shock at Turriff hospital last night following the murder of their teuchter-jazz classic, Let’s Get Yoakit! at the hands of jazz fraudsters Jock Kerouac and the woefully unmusical Beet Generation who somehow managed to make this classic track sound like a badly-tuned piano falling down a spiral staircase.

The scene of the crime: The Byre Club, Daviot.
Time of death, 7:30 pm Formartine time (GMT minus seventy years).

Bad jazz stands out like a toonser wearing nicky tams. And make no bones about it, this was jazz at its worst. The evening was not helped by the fact that Cattle-Cake Collins stopped mid-honk during Lousin Time to spray WD40 on his trombone slide.

I sort of liked the Beet Generation’s new project, We’re Aa Up the Wrang Dreel Noo. Yet overall, a lacklustre performance by over-rated musicians.

As Ray Charles would have said had he hailed from Kemnay, ‘Hit the road Jock, and dinna come back ony mair.’

Image credits:  
Trombone © Chris Johnson Dreamstime.com,
Double Bass Scroll © William Davis | Dreamstime.com