Jul 052011
 

Old Susannah tries to get her head around the Council’s secrecy and finds them much more transparent than they had thought they were.  By Suzanne Kelly.

Firstly, I trust we are all excited about the discovery of a giant wombat’s fossil in Australia!

This lumbering, hulking, ungainly creature could not move with the times, and so faded into history. Its great big head only had a pea-sized brain which was useful only for more primitive functioning. It spent its time hoarding nuts and drinking at its favourite watering holes.

Any relation to Councillors K ♦♦♦ D♦♦♦ or N♦♦♦ F ♦♦♦♦♦♦ is curiously coincidental.

While I may have spent most  of this past week enjoying the sun as well as well as a pleasant afternoon or  two in Brewdog, I’ve not been oblivious to the things that the City Council,  local institutions and mainstream press want me to be oblivious to.  While I enjoyed champagne and plenty of Pimms  with my friends ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ and ♦♦♦♦♦♦  in the great outdoors, I’ve been informed of a few developments.

Despite the summer sun, there are shadowy  figures behind the scenes, keeping secrets, denying facts, and trying (with  little success) to keep people and stories quiet – some innocent, some not so  innocent.

‘No news is good news’ – so  the saying goes, but whoever came up with this particular phrase probably had  too much of Brewdog’s ‘Sink The Bismarck’ ultra-strong beer.  Here in Aberdeen ‘no news’ seems to mean the local,  mainstream press have decided to play things down.  So – listen very carefully, I will say this  only once…

Redacted: (adjective) – obscured,  covered up, deleted, censored.

Some months ago, I attended a special meeting of Torry Community Council at which  the Friends of Union Terrace Gardens presented their case, and a very nice lady  named Jan represented ACC (Gordon McIntosh  had been invited, but was having dinner instead).  Jan told us how everything was going to be  wonderful, and how the entire matter was going to be handled ‘in a transparent  manner’.

In fact, she used the word  ‘transparent’ half a dozen times.  I left the meeting with a warm, fuzzy feeling that if something were going on about  the gardens, it would all be transparent.  What a relief.

How very strange it was  then to open up a P&J this week and find our new Council Leader McCaig asking why the minutes of one of the Garden-related groups (and there are many  I can assure you) has been redacted.  Over the weekend I’d emailed him asking why the text had been redacted; he’s not slow off the mark, our Mr McCaig.

But what group is this redacting its papers?  It’s the City Gardens Project Monitoring  Group.  What do they do?  According to the City’s website,

“The role of the Project Monitoring Group is to oversee the City Garden project’s progress and ensure that Council’s interests, and  that of the majority of Aberdeen citizens, are protected as the project
progresses”.

I take it that makes it  quite clear why they must act in secret. It’s not a question of whether or not something will be done with the gardens – they are overseeing progress.  So – the Council’s interests are not the same  as the interests of Aberdeen citizens (minority or majority).  In all my years I never would have guessed  that.  Perhaps they should have redacted  this mission statement as well.

Who is in this group?  Who attends the meetings?  If you go to the city’s website, you can  download the minutes and reports – where you will see that all the names of  attendees have been blacked out, or in council-speak ‘redacted’, together with  lots of text.

The City was trying to keep this top secret information a closely guarded secret.  Perhaps the Monitoring Group is made up of  MI6, the CIA, Lord Lucan and Spiderman?  Whoever it is, I bet they have a dual identity, a good cover story – and probably a costume with a cape.  I hear they all meet at midnight and each have limos with blacked-out windows.

 From now on I hear that anyone in a Council committee which discusses  Union Terrace Gardens will sign the Official Secrets Act, be security-vetted,  be given a cover identity and undergo survival and torture training.

Mr McCaig has no  recollection of agreeing to this group’s identity being protected, and he wants  some answers.  Let’s hope he gets  them.  Why on earth would this be secret, and what do they wish to hide?  Answers  on a postcard please (preferably in a secret code).

Alas for our poor Council:  their secrets are out.  That nice Danny Law over at STV has announced that a simple bit of cutting and pasting reveals all.  Visit STV for further information.

http://local.stv.tv/aberdeen/news/261573-council-blunder-means-concealed-minutes-from-union-terrace-gardens-meetings-can-still-be-read/

You might also want to visit the (excellent) blogspot Other Aberdeen:-
http://otheraberdeen.blogspot.com/

It’s hard to imagine that  the City didn’t give due care and attention to this life-or-death matter of who’s going to meetings and what they are saying about our gardens.  I am stunned.  From now on I hear that anyone in a Council committee which discusses  Union Terrace Gardens will sign the Official Secrets Act, be security-vetted,  be given a cover identity and undergo survival and torture training.

For my part, one of my trusted sources told me how to spy at the hidden text a while ago, and I was sworn to secrecy – which I kept.  My secret hope was that the Council would continue to keep thinking it had successfully blacked out text that could actually be read.  We could have been onto a winner with this one.

My sympathies to the Garden Monitoring Group at this unfortunate point in time, and in particular to one of those in the group:  our very own old friend, Ms Aileen HoMalone.  Not only is the debacle an embarrassment in itself, but my very own spies tell me that since the balance of power shift, this and other committees will be re-arranged over the summer, shedding a few LibDems in favour of SNP councillors along the way.

Gag:
1.  noun – a joke or stunt designed to cause laughter or possibly embarrassment.
2.  Verb – to make another remain silent via coercion or force. 

A gag can  be a stupid remark, like John Stewart’s saying Aberdeen needs a monorail, or a  stunt — like holding a design competition for ‘transforming’ a cherished  garden into a car park/mall.  On the more  sinister side of the coin, this week both Aberdeen City Council and Robert  Gordon University stand accused of gagging their staff.

Now, obviously the opinion  of staff at ACC is held in the highest esteem by management, and at an institution of higher learning such as RGU, nothing can be held more important  than the right to free expression and intellectual debate.  There is absolutely nothing ‘Big Brother’  about Aberdeen City Council rounding up four of its less-than-grateful staff as  it did this week to tell them off.

What had the four done?  They said mean things about the City and their bosses on something called ‘Facebook’, which apparently all the young people are using.  I hope these four ingrates have apologised for having opinions.  I do know that they have been issued with a set of guidelines as to what they can or can’t say.  Sounds like a great move.

In fact, back when the cuts were being  proposed in 2008, the City very wisely told its staff that they should in no way protest against the City’s school and service closures.  Many of them did so anyway.  You might think such people are brave in standing up for education and health services, but you must remember, when you take a job for the City, you lose all your human rights.  Fair trade, I’d say.

I hope these four people are at home right  now, reading their new behaviour guidelines and composing letters of apology.  I’d certainly hate to think they’d be sending  me copies of the city’s newest Kafkaesque policies.  Or even worse – they might be creating anonymous Facebook identities so they can continue to keep us posted with City developments and dark doings.

As to that bastion of higher education, Robert Gordon University: they are also gagging for it.  You may have seen the news that RGU want the Trade Unions to go away and stop bothering them. 

This institution of higher learning has announced that since the unions are now ‘smaller’, they shouldn’t have to recognise them at all. Quite right.  Just because the University has shed a few jobs and has a few less people, there is no reason the unions should have shrunk as well.  Staff and educators alike are overjoyed by this move on RGU’s part, as they won’t have to go to any more tedious union meetings.

The staff won’t publicly say how happy they are, because RGU is, according to STV “accused of ‘gagging’ staff as dozens protest over de-recognition decision”.  I know staff who have been asked to take on more work with no pay, who have had pensions cut, and who work weekends with no extra money to show for it.  I’m sure union representation is the furthest thing from their minds.

RGU wanted the whole episode to be treated as Top Secret:  staff were told not to discuss these special Trump security arrangements

It might be worth mentioning that RGU held its staff’s safety particularly important during Donald Trump’s visit for his honorary degree.  RGU management were so concerned about the safety of its people who would be in the same building as ‘the Donald’ that they let Trump’s private security people search bags, set up security checks, and made sure no one left the building until the great man himself had gone.

Some people say that their mobile phones were looked at, and they weren’t allowed to take any photos (which would have been the first thing on my mind), but this remains unconfirmed.

Those who did get in touch told me that RGU wanted the whole episode to be treated as Top Secret:  staff were told not to discuss these special Trump security arrangements.  I would be happy for the RGU administration to confirm or deny that private, American security was given power over its staff.

Maybe they could have done what Robert Gordon’s College did, and simply lock any bothersome people up in cupboards (congratulations to Ms Michie for winning her case against the College where she was indeed locked in a cupboard.  I await news of the dismissal of the person who did this, but it hasn’t appeared yet).

News Blackout: (modern English phrase) – to deliberately ignore or censor news events. (See also ‘P&J’)

The local press simply  don’t have the time and space to tell you the entire goings on.  The P&J may have covered the story of the City Council’s ‘redacting’ text (see below), as Cllr McCaig came forward with the story.

However, if you put ‘Robert Gordon University’ into the Press & Journal’s online search feature, you’ll see a collection of innocent PR stories about boat races and an RGU student appearing in something called ‘Glee’ (whatever that is).  No RGU bashing in the P&J; they don’t want to upset that nice Mr Wood and his friends.  No word of gagging staff or staff being kettled by American private scurity.

You might also search the P&J website for the story of guitar hero Richard Thompson’s honorary degree from Aberdeen University granted  on the 5th July (congratulations by the way). 

I’ll give you that Richard Thompson is no Donald Trump (who got his degree from Ian Wood’s RGU for services to money).  Thompson has only enjoyed a successful international musical career since the 1960s, released award-winning albums, and made a particularly important collection, ‘1000 years of popular music’.  I doubt the man even has his own jet.

Don’t bother searching for news of his honorary degree award in the local rags – it’s not there.

Just as Anthony Baxter never got any newspaper coverage for his documentary ‘you’ve been trumped’ about Trump and the Menie Estate (it was held over twice and had unprecedented demand at the Belmont), the local press are making life easier for us by deciding what’s newsworthy and what isn’t.

I for one am far more interested in petty burglaries, minor football matches and cute baby photo competitions than the workings of secrecy in local government and the schemes of our local millionaires.

It is the editors at the local papers who decide what goes in (or possibly a few of the city’s richercitizens), not the reporters.

At least we don’t have a ‘News of the World’ situation.  Several newspapers stand accused of hacking mobile phone conversations – of murder victims and their families. Potential evidence has been lost and Milly Dowler’s family wrongly believed she might still have been alive since her voicemail was being accessed.  If you can think of anything lower than this, don’t let me know.

PS – the Murdoch Empire isclosing the News of the World after Sunday!  Result!  However, Murdoch is looking to take over BskyB completely.  If you somehow think this might lead to a  monopoly over news coverage, speak now.

RGU, millionaires, the  future of our Gardens, quangos, dodgy deals, secret deer cull plans:  somewhere the truth is out there.  Just don’t hold your breath waiting for it. 

Speaking of holding your breath, I’d best go  close the windows.  The wind must have changed, and the scent drifting through my open windows in Torry is decidedly not roses and violets.   Old Susannah is off for a short but much needed holiday.  I am going to turn 50 on ♦♦♦♦♦♦ and will fly to  ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ on ♦♦♦♦♦ and will stay with ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ where I hope very much to see ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦My best wishes to ♦♦♦♦♦ ♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦.

Jul 012011
 

Voice’s Old Susannah casts her eye over recent events, stories, and terms and phrases familiar as well as freshly ‘spun’, which will be forever etched in the consciousness of the people of Aberdeen and the Northeast.

Old Susannah is still reeling from the Friends of Union Terrace Gardens Ceilidh held last Friday night at the Hilton Treetops.  The ‘vocal minority’ as the Council likes to call the Friends was certainly vocal on the night, and the excellent Ceilidh band was ‘vibrant and dynamic’ –  so much so that we upset the party in the next room, which happened to be Aberdeen Football Club!

A red-faced man from AFC was ever so slightly angry and spent his entire night yelling at the hotel staff that; ‘he had spent a lot of money’, and ‘’didn’t expect to hear a band’ during his event.

Actually, I could barely hear the band over this refined gentleman for most of the night. He was obviously very important, because he kept saying who he was.

Eventually many of us took our drinks out of our room and sat on sofas watching his endless tirade.  If AFC players had his stamina, then there would be more silverware in their trophy cabinet.  I can only hope we have not inconvenienced Mr Milne himself.

Anyway, the Friends raised lots of money; Anne Begg made a moving speech and everyone (except the AFC man) had a fantastic night.

On Sunday I took advantage of the opportunity to watch you’ve been trumped’ again.

Anthony Baxter did another Q&A session and was joined by Menie resident, Susan Munroe.  The giant mound of earth and sand those nice Trump people left next to her house, (no doubt for a very important reason) is having a wonderful effect on her garden and her car.  The garden is dying (so less work for her to tend it) and the car is clogged with sand (so that means less C02 emissions – another result).

The Q&A session wound up in the Belmont’s bar and continued for quite some time.  Anthony is looking forward to his New York film premier, as you might well expect.

I suspect in reality he’s just hoping Trump will show up and bring his lovely young wife Melania with him – I’m sure Anthony is hoping for an introduction.  Then again, I may be wrong about that.  Anthony definitely sends his thanks to the Belmont and the people in Aberdeen who have turned out for the film.

But the real story of this past week was the rise of 26 year-old Callum McCaig, now installed as the new leader of Aberdeen City Council.  It is pointless to make jokes about his youth; he is bringing his year of experience to the job.  Rumours that he wants to turn Union Terrace Gardens into a skateboard park are (so far) unfounded.

I am actually going to give him the benefit of the doubt for the present.  To be honest, when I was 26 my interests lay in other directions, but the less said about that the better.  He says he wants to listen to what the people are saying.  Is it possible he is embracing….

Community Engagement:

(modern English phrase) involvement of a group of people in decision-making processes.

If you read the many wonderful booklets and reports the City and its army of quangos and consultants have written over the past 10 years (well, a girl has to have a hobby), you will realise what lengths the City has gone to in its quest to ensure we are all given a voice in planning.  The City might not actually listen to that voice (viz Union Terrace Gardens, the Tullos Hill Deer Cull, school closures, etc etc). – but it’s awfully nice of them to give us a voice all the same.  To quote from some of their literature, here is what the city kindly does with us:-

Effective Community Engagement means:

  • Ensuring that people are made aware of proposals that affect them as early as possible.
  • Appropriate systems are in place to allow their opinions to be made, shared, and considered.
  • To allow better explanations to be made by the Council as to how and why specific decisions on design issues have been arrived at.
  • Help to implement the principles of Inclusive Design.
  • Help develop greater interest and transparency in the planning system.
  • Involving people across the whole public spectrum.

The ‘Inclusive Design’ implementation has long been a personal favourite.  I don’t understand what this phrase means in the slightest but it certainly sounds both important and beneficial.  Please feel free to send me some examples of Inclusive Design the City has put in place.

I could be forgiven for thinking that in its haste to improve our lives; the City might have forgotten these principles on a few occasions. Let’s look at these points again as applied to the Tullos Hill and other current situations (my comments are in bluish):-

  • Ensuring that people are made aware of proposals that affect them as early as possible.

I don’t remember the part when the City told us a deer cull was coming for their tree programme, but I do remember they and SNH wanted to keep the cull quiet.

  • Appropriate systems are in place to allow their opinions to be made, shared, and considered.  

The public were allowed to comment on the tree planting until the end of January.  This was the ‘phase 2 consultation’.  However, once we found out that the cull was part of this phase 2 plan and that it had been kept secret, we were told we could not share our opinions.  That nice Ms Aileen Malone and other Lib Dems refused to let me and the Nigg Community Council representative address the May Housing Committee with this new information:  because she had only asked for a verbal report on the cull, not a written one.
Democracy in action!  Or is that Democracy inaction?   You could be forgiven for thinking it was a sneaky, underhanded, undemocratic ploy on (HoMalone’s) part– but if the City says it has systems in place for public opinion sharing then who are we to question it?

  • To allow better explanations to be made by the Council as to how and why specific decisions on design issues have been arrived at.

The deer campaigners keep asking why the cull was kept secret, why we can’t have non-lethal measures, why the trees have to be there at all.  The Council either ignore these questions, or keep repeating that a cull ‘…is standard practice for maintaining woodlands throughout Scotland.’  It doesn’t seem to matter much that there is no woodland on the hill at present, just the deer.

  • Help to implement the principles of Inclusive Design.  

Again, Inclusive Design is fantastic.  This is being shown to great effect in the ongoing Union Terrace Gardens saga.  The inclusivity seems a bit limited to a few millionaires, ACSEF and Scottish Enterprise, but hey ho.

  • Help develop greater interest and transparency in the planning system.

I have to say I find the planning system very very transparent:  I can see straight through it when it comes to Union Terrace Gardens, Loirston Loch, and Tullos Hill.

  • Involving people across the whole public spectrum.

Fantastic!  Four Community Councils at least have condemned the cull and its handling.  Two thousand five hundred local people signed petitions against it.  And what does the City’s Chief Executive say?
It says  that this only represents a small number of people.

It seems inclusion doesn’t mean including groups of only a few thousand members.  I’ll get the hang of who does and doesn’t get included yet.

Now that we have seen how Community Engagement works, I hope we can all appreciate just how important our opinions as taxpayers and residents are to our City.

Maybe this is one engagement that should be broken off.

Open Plan:

(adjective) description of a style of interior layout, particularly in an office situation, characterised by the lack of walls.

The idea was to create an open area where information would free-flow.  The reality however is that people in such areas have no privacy and are under pressure to conform.  Most companies are getting rid of such uncomfortable, noisy interior layouts.  But not our City.

Inside the new Marischal College, aesthetic sensibility rules OK.

Staff who were lucky enough to be moved to this open plan nirvana had been told they could bring a maximum of two packing crates of their files / work with them – and one of those crates was for their computer (unless a  new machine had been laid on).  Thankfully architectural and interior design principles will continue to guide how things operate – staff cannot have any personal mementos or – heaven forbid – plants on their desks!

What would it look like if people could have their desk look the way they wanted?  Chaos would ensue and things would not look as uniform as a factory.  There is a horrible fear that someone will spill something on the new carpets.

I am sure our 65 million pound wonder building won’t have any acoustic problems; no doubt there are acoustic tiles and such in place.  Since shouting, swearing and screaming are rarely heard in the City’s hallowed halls, I’m sure everyone will get on in the new office just fine.

Other staff members are being moved around from building to building; it certainly keeps things lively.

Next week: Definitions, Deer info, and I attempt to contact Neil Fletcher again with a civil question.

 

Jul 012011
 

George Anderson continues his masterclass series in Doric,  offering an appreciation not only of the spoken language, but also the wealth of meaning between the economically delivered lines – and a breath of fresh air.

Background

When Aberdeen Voice’s editorial team asked me to conduct a series of Doric Master Classes I jumped at the chance. The language lab above my garage in Auchnaclatt can be stifling in summer. Besides, I was fed up teaching American tourists how to order breakfast (Kin I hae a bug o rowies and a slack handfae o yer floory baps please?) But first things first I told them. Students of Doric must learn to breathe correctly. So that’s where we’ll begin.

Breathing

… is vital for survival. Stop doing it long enough and your tatties will soon be ower the side.

The ancient Tai Chi masters knew this (about the breathing that is; not the tatties). They were taught from the temple crèche to breathe in through their ears and out through the soles of their feet. Though this practice was discontinued in the seventeenth century after complaints from monks about condensation in their gym shoes.

Good breathing is no less essential when learning to speak Doric properly.

Breathing Exercise

This exercise has been designed to allow students to experience for themselves the correct way to breathe during conversation. Throughout the exercise do bear in mind the two fundamentals of Doric breathing: when listening, only breathe in; when speaking, only breathe out.

Students should work in pairs and have a paramedic on standby.

Instructions

One person plays the speaker. The other takes the role of listener.

Speaker:

Start reciting the words to the ‘The Mucking of Geordie’s Byre.’ These must be spoken in Doric, at about twice the speed of an hysterical auctioneer on his third line of coke.

Listener:

Just as the speaker begins, draw a gaspette of air in through the mouth while saying the word,  ‘Aye’. Repeat this for as long as the speaker is speaking. Take care not to breathe out.

If you feel light-headed or confused, if you experience vertigo or the feeling that your lungs might at any moment explode, call your GP immediately – and tell him you have just mastered the art of Doric inhalation.

It has been clinically proven (67% of 285 breathers agreed) that your lungs will now contain levels of carbon dioxide similar to those recorded at the bottom of a colliery lift shaft.

Aim to reach this point at the precise moment when the speaker stops talking. Some feel nauseous at this point. If you are one of them, it helps to ground yourself by holding on to something  — a telegraph pole, tree or a Ford Mondeo usually hit the spot.

Whatever you do, don’t faint; it will shortly be your turn to speak.

But you can think only of filling your burning lungs with oxygen in vast, life sustaining quantities. To do this you will first have to expel all of the noxious gases your lungs contain.  And here we have a dilemma. Your conversational partner may believe that you are having a hairy fit. Worse; they may believe that you are feigning a hairy fit because you can’t bring yourself to share their concern for the cleansing of George’s cowshed. What to do?

Well, the answer is to use the blast of carbon dioxide your body will at any moment force from your chest (with or without your permission) as the carrier for your reply.

Speaker:

Stop speaking. It is your turn to say ‘Aye’ while only breathing in. Get to it.

Listener:

(now adopting the speaking role): Recite the chorus to the Barnyards o Delgatie (reproduced below), out loud and real
fast (if you can distinguish one word from the next you are not speaking fast enough). Aim for 0.8 seconds from start to finish.

Luntin addie, turin addie,
Luntin addie turin ae
Luntin lowrin’ lowrin’ lowrin’,
The barnyards o’Delgaty!

Next lesson:

Now that we have covered the mechanics of breathing the subject of our next masterclass will be ‘Doric and the beatnik culture’.

Image credit:  © Max Blain | Dreamstime.com

Jun 242011
 

Voice’s Old Susannah casts her eye over recent events, stories, and terms and phrases familiar as well as freshly ‘spun’, which will be forever etched in the consciousness of the people of Aberdeen and the Northeast.

And what a week it’s been in Aberdeen; does the excitement never end?

Overhead the skies are filled with gold-plated private jets. On the ground, a mere sixty-five million pounds later, we have what we all wanted:  a completely gutted Marischal College, scrubbed clean, if perhaps too small for all the staff it was meant to hold.

How exciting it will be to work in this open-plan haven!  Now that we’ve ripped out the interior wooden panelling, replaced the ceiling, cornices, moulding and plastering, and got rid of those pesky ancient books (many were thrown in a skip per my sources), the place is now perfectly preserved.  Result!

As befitted this monumental opening ceremony, a press conference was held.

My invitation never arrived, which I will discuss with my postman tomorrow.   What made this occasion particularly heart-warming was the presence of so many local citizens, eagerly trying to catch a glimpse of our celebrated councillors.  In fact, a number of the crowd of council fans seem to have been members of the vocal minority group, The Friends of Union Terrace Gardens.  At least I guess it must have been them, as some of them had inconspicuous lapel pins or flyers.

The Friends were not very vocal on the day, and spent some time in quiet contemplation of the beautiful, £125,000 statue of Robert the Bruce, before taking a leisurely stroll down Union Street.  Council staff who had remained in St Nicholas House waved and cheered for the Council members.

This cheering coincidentally took place as the Friends of UTG were walking past.

Some of the Council personnel must have felt overcome with emotion for one reason or another.  In fact one woman, a  Ms Watts, had positively flushed orange.

Isn’t it nice that special interest groups like the FoUTG, however small  (but vocal) they are, go out of their way to pay our city fathers (and quite a few mothers) the respect that they deserve and have earned?
I thought you might like to see some photos from the Marischal College opening day celebrations.  See if you can spot any of the Friends of Union Terrace Gardens dotted around in these lovely photos by Renée Slater, whose work I hope to see more often in Aberdeen Voice.

Finally, Old Susannah will be putting on her dancing shoes and joining the Friends at this Friday’s Ceildh at the Hilton Treetops, and hopes to see you there.  But now it must be time for a few definitions.

Trophy Wife:

(noun) woman married to a wealthy, successful man, prized for her physical appearance. (see also totty, gold-digger, talent)

Firstly, apologies – I normally try to keep these definitions relevant to the week’s news stories, but somehow this phrase just slipped into this week’s column.  A man may be wealthy, but what does it profit him unless he’s photographed in public with some impressive arm candy?

The rich and powerful man, whether in Aberdeen or the wider world, would do well to ensure he’s always well dressed and accessorised.  No one will notice if your hair is messy (or even missing), if you’ve got a great bird walking around with you.  She may be so delicate and special that staff are required to hold her umbrella over her if it rains.

It is crucial to trade in the trophy wife every few years, rather like making sure your motor car doesn’t have too many miles on it or its upholstery doesn’t get creased.  Do make sure that you’ve got the pre-nup in place first. Trophy wife material can be found at philosophy symposia, and  Oxbridge or other universities.  If you have any degrees (perhaps the odd doctorate or two), do work that into your conversation.

When selecting your trophy wife from the hordes of adoring women chasing you for your personality, it’s best to set a maximum age limit.  You’d certainly not want her to be over 30.  Your age won’t matter a whit, as she will love you for who you really are (which is an ageing, insecure man with a massive bank balance, and preferably a cough).

Pre-nuptual agreement or not, once your first child comes along (if you stay together long enough), then you will happily share all that is yours with her (the courts will see to that).  Before you know it, you will be in your 90s, and your child will be about the same age as your grandchildren by previous trophy wives.

This age difference may not be ideal for a game of football in the park, but there it is.  Love conquers all, and love of money is trumps.

Philanthropy

(noun) charitable acts, from late Latin, originally from Greek philos – love and thropos – man.  An act or gift made for humanitarian ends.

Isn’t it funny how language evolves.   In the old days, a philanthropist was someone who helped others with no wish for recognition of the deed and with no wish for personal gain.  In fact, to help others or offer assistance to get personal gain is often called bribery or coercion.

The words ‘bribery’ and ‘coercion’ may be unfamiliar to the residents of Aberdeen, and I may well have to define them at some future point.

I hope we’ve all read the article in Thursday’s Press & Journal about philanthropy.  It is illustrated by a large photograph of one Mr Wood.  He does a lot for charity, as is evidenced by numerous press releases and media reports.  If your memory needs refreshing, I previously explained how he wants to ‘give’ the City £50,000,000.

This gift is to turn Union Terrace Gardens into something other than what it is.   This is much the same as when I ‘gave’ my hairdresser a gift of £20 to cut my hair.  In fact, the hairdresser and I had a consultation, and I got to say what happened to my head, as it was mine.  But I digress.

Since we live in such a prosperous society where the needs of all children, elderly, and specially-abled people have already been fulfilled, it must be hard for Mr Wood to figure out what to do with £50 million.

All things considered, perhaps Ian should just keep his money.

Next week:  deer update, and more definitions.

Jun 242011
 

George Anderson presents a masterclass in Doric offering an appreciation not only of the spoken language, but also the wealth of meaning between the economically delivered lines.

Background:

There is something about the North-east’s doom laden outlook on life that makes Victor Meldrew look like he’s been at the laughing gas.

Victorian artists painted skulls in the corner of their canvases to remind anyone who had drifted off the page, that the bloke with the scythe was never more than a step behind them.

Up my way we need no such reminding; we see the end of our days in the faces of anyone we know over fifty.

It is customary in the north-east of Scotland to point out to any third parties who will listen, that so-and-so is ‘looking aul’’. The phrase is equivalent to saying ‘His tatties are gey near through the bree’. In other words that the fellow should get measured for the widden bilersuit on a sooner rather than later basis.

The Performance:

Students should study the masterclass notes below before practicing the following piece of dialogue from ‘Duet for Arthur Duguid’ by Udny playwright Harold Painter, known in the north-east of course as Harold Pinter. Emphasise emboldened words.

Line 1: I seen Arthur Duguid at the Gala bingo last widdnesdae
Line 2: Did ye?
Line 3: Aye. He’s nae half lookin aul’
Line 4: Is he?
Line 5: Oh, he’s lookin aul’ a right.

Students Notes on pronunciation:

Line 1: This line should be delivered as you might read out loud the names of all those who died building the Burma railroad.

Line 2: Try to get as much astonishment into these two words as you can muster. Imagining that you have just been told that despite flailing at the beast with his pension book, Arthur Duguid had been skewered through the tripe like a kebab during this year’s Pamplona bull run.

Line 3: Advanced students may want to try the accompanying actions to this phrase. Hold a trembling hand an inch or two from your face and draw it down the visage as the phrase is uttered, to emphasise the fact that Arthur’s signs of ageing are now beyond the reach even of industrial strength Norwegian Formula Neutragena.

Line 4: As for line 2

Line 5: Place double emphasis on the second instance of the word ‘aul’’

Both should end the piece with hands in pockets, performing the ‘shakkin o the heid’.

Picture  © Paul Moore | Dreamstime.com

Jun 182011
 

Voice’s Old Susannah casts her eye over recent events, stories, and terms and phrases familiar as well as freshly ‘spun’, which will be forever etched in the consciousness of the people of Aberdeen and the Northeast.

The wait is over.  The skies have cleared, and the planets are aligned (or at least we had an eclipse this week).  It is launched.  The streets are deserted as people flock around computers to read what our future holds, and to add their comments to the website: Genius loci is here.

”What is she on about?” I hear you ask.  The Aberdeen Chamber of Commerce enlisted the talents of its leading lights (as well as John Stewart), and have created a wonderful website where they actually ask for – wait for it – the opinions of humble non-business folk like you and me on how we want our City to be transformed.

We are told first and foremost to forget all the negative stuff – ‘it is easy to criticise’ they tell us.

“The Chamber wants to turn the debate about the city centre from the negative to the positive. We should stop talking about what’s wrong, and concentrate our efforts on putting it right”. – See:  genius-loci-in-30-seconds

Old Susannah was never one to criticise or make unkind comments, and I hope you will take a page from my book

Obviously, if we just simply stop talking about the tiny problems this city has, then the elephant will leave the room.  Let’s just forget about politicians, millionaires and quangos behaving badly.  Minor things like councillors being jailed for theft, city government selling real estate at less than market value, school and service closures and cuts, etc. can all be swept away.  Let it go.

Now that’s done, let’s figure out how to fix the real problem.

What will make everyone rich, successful, happy, well-dressed and content?
Answer:  We must build something in place of Union Terrace Gardens.

Who knows?  With a bit of planning and the right quangos, Aberdeen might just even become the Scunthorpe or Milton Keynes of the north.  Just because we are three hours north of Glasgow and Edinburgh is no reason to think our location will be any hindrance to the hordes of shopping tourists we desperately all want to attract.   Let’s think outside the box and start thinking inside the dome (which is a City Square proposal). Let’s look at some of the exciting possibilities on offer.

Genius Loci:

Latin phrase – ‘spirit of the place’.  A brand new initiative by the Chamber of Commerce.
Hooray.  It’s time to do some architecture.  You may remember that John Stewart, head of Aberdeen City Council, complained not long ago that there wasn’t much of anything in UTG but grass and trees.  Thankfully, this disgraceful situation will be solved by the combined efforts of ACSEF, the Chamber of  Commerce, Aberdeen City Council, and let’s not forget Malcolm Reading and a host of international architects eager to get their hands on taxpayer money – sorry – eager to improve the life of each and every citizen by building stuff.

The business sector says that making new buildings improves peoples’ lives.  (It’s a good thing that we have a strong local government which balances the educational, health and social needs of its citizens against any conflicting interests of big business).

having a monorail will be like a dream come true

Back in the day, St Nicholas House was celebrated for its modernity and shiny blue bits.  I am sure that people travelled to Aberdeen just to look at it, and then went shopping.

Union Square is also going to make us prosperous.  Any day now.  Some might think this latest mall has only added a new set of multinational stores and sucked the life out of local commerce in the city centre while encouraging more urban sprawl.  But that’s not the kind of thinking we want right now.  Let’s do as the Chamber of Commerce wants:  Let’s forget the past, let’s not think about the negatives – let’s only focus on how exciting – nay vibrant lots of new buildings could be for all of us.

Some 150 people were asked to contribute essays on the city’s architectural (and hence cultural, social and economic future we’re told) for this Genius Loci thing.  About 50 essays came back, although it seems they are all from business people or city councillors.  I guess the elderly, people with mobility problems, unwaged and young aren’t up to the job of making comment.  Old Susannah couldn’t wait to read as much of the proposals as possible; let’s share just one with you now.

John Stewart, head Genius has some big plans – and strangely enough they involve the end of the Denburn Valley:-

“I remain convinced that the raising of Union Terrace Gardens, to create a larger garden, with performance space, public art, water features, and cafes is a vital part of this. We should not be afraid to remove some of the worst eyesores to deliver this new space. There is the potential for new space on the St Nicholas House site when it is demolished, to improve the Castlegate. Could the St Nicholas Kirkyard be opened up more? …”

This is brilliant stuff, thanks John.  I’m all for throwing the kirkyard up to development as well.  I for one will be at the water feature watching the mimes perform in February as I have my baguette and cappuccino.  But it gets better:

“…The Union Terrace Gardens development allows the opportunity to route buses onto the Denburn dual carriageway….. I’d love to see a monorail. And do not underestimate the importance of communications in terms of connectivity. A free wi-fi network across the City Centre is a must”.

I have a confession to make:  as a child: my brother was mainly in charge of the toy train we had at Christmas, and having a monorail will be like a dream come true.  Monorail construction in Aberdeen will enhance our architecture, and take us from A to B in style.  People will come from around the world to see it, particularly people from the States, where monorail building programmes have caused more financial disasters than the sub-prime market did.  Just go look at the ‘Marge Vs the Monorail’ episode of the Simpsons – not that I am insinuating any of our august councillors and businessmen are cartoon characters or dishonest.

“Would it be possible to take control of, large parts of the City Centre, consolidating ownership of numerous older buildings, gutting the insides to create the flexible space desired by modern retail, while retaining the facades and features, a little like the council has achieved with Marischal College?”

Now we’re talking!  I like it when a man takes control, John – particularly if they’re using compulsory purchase orders.  Maybe the City could just ‘take control’ of everything, and give control to ACSEF?  If that’s what’s going to happen anyway, this would be a time- and money-saving idea.

So I urge everyone – go download ‘Genius Loci’ and have a look at the website. Make your comments.  Read the ‘visionaries’ comments.  After all, I don’t want to  be feeling dizzy, nauseous, intellectually insulted and ill-used all on my own.

One final point to stress:  this ‘Genius Loci’ initiative is definitely not the product of any group with a vested interest.

Vested Interest:

(Modern English phrase) a personal concern in maintaining or influencing a condition, arrangement, or action especially for selfish ends.
If Old Susannah didn’t know better or if I were just a bit cynical, I would ask the question:  do any groups have a vested interest in ‘improving’ Union Terrace Gardens?  Good thing I’m not cynical.

All that the international architects in the design competition want is for Aberdonians to have a fantastic life in a vibrant city.  They are not interested in winning competitions or making money.  Architecture is a higher calling, as can be seen in our beautiful bus station, Torry ‘hen houses’ or majestic Union Square mall.

All the local construction companies want likewise is for you and me to be happy.  If they happen to make a few million during the process, than everyone’s a winner.  I sigh with happiness when I picture the future:  we will travel the monorail from shopping mall to shopping mall, drinking cafe latte on concrete patios as we admire the city’s new dome from the safety of the culture zone.  Who needs a rapture when this is heading our way?  What will you do with all the extra income this will generate for you personally?

the organisations which want us to forget the past are pretty much the same ones that got us to where we are today

Does anyone own any city-centre property close to a culture zone or commerce zone which will skyrocket in value?

I hope so.  If for instance any millionaires owned land near say a railroad that is set to quadruple in value if these schemes go ahead, then more power to them.

What if such a person were lucky enough to be involved with the decision-making process of our great construction schemes to deliver our new open space thingy?  Maybe they had some power within ACSEF or the Chamber of Commerce itself?  Would it constitute a vested interest if they used their influence to get rid of the Denburn Valley, and coincidentally got very rich as a result for owning nearby land and possibly picking up a few million in construction work?  Hmmm.

It is coincidence that the Chamber of Commerce released its Genius Loci document at the same time the design competition to ‘improve Union Terrace Gardens is on.  It is also coincidence that ‘vested interest’ should appear in this week’s definitions.  It is also a big coincidence that the organisations which want us to forget the past are pretty much the same ones that got us to where we are today.

I’m afraid the excitement is just too much for me; I feel faint and can’t continue.  Let’s leave it there for now until the enormity of our great future fully sinks in – I definitely have a sinking feeling.

I’m off now to a presentation on ‘rebranding the city,’ I am sure you are looking forward to hearing all about it next week.

Jun 182011
 

George Anderson bravely shares with Voice readers his tutor’s feedback on his less than adequate attempt to pass the ‘Aiberdeen words and phrases’ exam paper as part of his Northeast Scotland Indigenous languages course.

Open University of Bogfechel.
A level II Course from the Faculty of Language.
AB-277 Aiberdonian words and phrases.

Feedback from Assignment One.

Well done Dod. Overall a decent assignment. You were asked to give the Aiberdonian equivalent of an English phrase and provide examples of its everyday use.

Q1: The English translation of the Aiberdonian phrase ‘Kintit’ is of course, ‘I just knew it!’ But when pronounced by a native speaker, which other messages does the phrase also communicate? (25 marks).

Tutor’s Notes.

You started with a good example; husband and wife in dispute over the correct route to Lidl. Husband insisting he is right.  Wife falling into a silent smoulder in the passenger seat. The couple’s car pulling into a building site two hours later next to an advertising hoarding proclaiming the coming of a new Aldi’s supermarket in 2015.  After the silence of the last 90 miles, a single phrase is uttered by the wife: ‘Kintit!’ The emphasis of course on the first syllable.

Unfortunately, you listed only 2 out of the 8 messages implied by the gentleman’s spouse. The full list is as follows:

  • I was right
  • You were wrong
  • I’m always right
  • Your always wrong.
  • You never listen to me
  • If only you’d listen to me
  • God knows why I married a loser like you. I should have known, when you told me you’d left Summerhill Academy in 1969 with an ‘O’ level in juggling and a character reference fae the janny.
  • If you are still considering a 1/4 of chopped pork and a side plate of crinkle-cut beetroot for yer tea, you can get it yersel; I’m takin the bus hame.

Marks: 6/25

Better luck perhaps with assignment two Dod when the phrase will be:  ‘You and fa’s army?’

Alma Duguid,
Tutor

 

Jun 182011
 

By Bob Smith.

As ye growe aul dis yer brain retire
It sure dis cause ye frustration an ire
Ye myn fine fit happened in 1952
Fit ye did last wikk-ye hinna a clue

Ye meet an aul freen fin oot a walk
And aa ye can dee is taak an taak
In the hope ye can myn the mannie’s name
An ye dinna hae ti hing yer heid in shame

At the bottom o the stairs ye ken fit ye wint
Fin ye reach the tap yer brain its got tint
Were ye up for a hankie or maybe a purse
It fair maks ye hae a bit sweir or curse

Ye watch an aul film an the leadin lady
Her name Ah’m feart it is a bit shady
Is it Jane Russell or Yvonne De Carlo
Her hair is dark so it’s nae Jean Harlow

Name aat song-ye  shud ken it fine
No it wisna sung bi Sydney Devine
Wis it maybe written bi  Rodgers an Hart
Or Sammy Cahn or yon Lionel Bart

Ye can myn faa scored in the final o’ 59
The twa teams involved comes ti ye fine
Nae sae sure faa played last ear
Neen o them comes ti myn – oh dear!

Yer ain name of coorse ye myn it weel
So maybe yer nae sae bliddy feel
Bit faa’s aat wummin ?- it’s got ye licked?
Forget yer wife’s name an  yer erse’ll get kicked

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Picture © Pathathai Chungyam | Dreamstime.com

 

Jun 182011
 

By George Anderson.

We can never predict when a sudden insight into the workings of our innermost selves will light up our consciousness like an 11 Watt low-energy bulb.
We imagine that such events occur in mysterious places such as Ayres Rock or the luminous bowling alley at the Codonas funfair in Aberdeen.

But in my experience, the location of your average flashbulb moment will be as ordinary as chapped tatties. A place like the freezer cabinet of my village shop last Thursday.

I was leaning over the rim of the cabinet contemplating what life must have been like in the days before we could blast freeze our garden peas within ten seconds of hauling them out of their pods. I was considering whether to go for the leading brand (‘satisfaction guaranteed or your money back’) or the Value Pack (‘please see rear of packaging for list of disclaimers.’).

The Value Pack was a pound cheaper but the contents even when defrosted had the density of buckshot. I reached for my choice. And that’s when it happened.

I first became aware that something wasn’t quite right with the world – well, with my trousers actually. I looked down to discover that in my haste to get to the shop before suppertime I had pulled on the wife’s tracksuit bottoms instead of my own (why, oh why are pastel shades so unbecoming to a man in his late fifties?).

The realisation that shunted into the rear of that first thought was that not only were the leggings incongruous, they were outside in!

This would never do. I live in the heart of a rural community. It is a place where a man is a man and is expected to behave – and dress – like one. Let me explain.

Imagine this: A farm worker with a dodgy watch relaxes behind a hay stack during a lunch break. He sucks on a chut (singular of chutney) from his ploughman’s sandwich. Suddenly he realises that his watch has stopped; that he should have been back in harness twenty minutes ago. He leaps to his feet and bolts off spitting Cheddar. He is thrashed to the ground by the mercilessly flailing blades of a combine harvester which breaks both his arms like cheese straws.

Now, in an episode of Casualty, an air ambulance and a battalion of parachuting para-medics would descend fom the sky and the lad with the two broken arms would be whisked off to the heli-pad at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary. But you would be hard pushed to find anyone within a thirty mile radius of my village shop who would not expect that lad to get on his bike with a wobble-free lip and pedal to the ARI using the ‘Look-Ma-Nae-Hands’ technique.

How, I thought, could such people ever look favourably on a middle-aged man wearing his wife’s jogging bottoms inside out in close proximity to their rural community’s only freezer cabinet?

And that’s when the 11 Watt low-energy bulb came on. And I released that, actually, I didn’t care what they thought.

I was flying without wings – despite having a bag of Albanian peas under each oxter. I strode flamboyantly to the checkout  with pastel pantaloons ablaze. I was free, free, free at last!

Next week I plan to push the envelope of my new found freedom by nipping down to the village shop for a copy of the Turriff Advertiser wearing my wife’s bra around my head in the semblance of a Spitfire Pilot’s headgear.

That’ll separate the men from the boys!

Jun 102011
 

By Bob Smith.

A young chiel is bein touted
As leader o oor cooncil mob
A lot o fowk are speirin
Is the loon up ti the job?

A suppose the billie he dis ken
Fit a task he’d be takin on
The cooncil’s fair cash strappit
In iss toon twixt Dee an Don

A truly hope he his mair sense
Than cooncillors Malone an Dean
Faa some fowk hiv noo branded
Amang the worst they’ve ivver seen

Wull he hae the gumption
Ti staun up ti ACSEF’s ploys?
Or wull he turn oot ti be
Jist anither o ACSEF’s toys?

A hope the laddie disna think
Iss jobbie wull be a jolly
Or his tenure micht be kent
As Aiberdeen’s “McCaig’s Folly”

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011