Corine came up with the idea.
As Secretary she regularly fields telephone calls from Hattie – Harriett Harman. Well it’s not exactly HH, but it is her people. And they connect (I think that’s the word) and they profess to be totally focussed on what the Sutton Coldfield CLP think about things.
Corine is not normally stuck for a comment or two but you have to have some sympathy for the difficulties of responding on the hoof to apparatchik charged with mining the soul of the SCCLP.
There had been a couple of such calls and we got organised. Henceforth we, or Corine would be ready. There would henceforth be a crib. When the call came, when HH next dialled up, Corine would casually reach for the text and would appraise the listener on what we think and where our sympathies lie.
How to prepare?
This is the good bit. We would actually debate issues of interest to us. This is new – feelings would be expressed, arguments would be assembled, we would have reactions and a reply. This is how the Greeks did it.
And first debate took place this week. First item on the Agenda. And it lasted 55 mintes. And everybody got stuck in. We had opinions right round the table all the way from Jockey Road to Mere Green.
The consensus was that Faith Schools were a fairly awful idea which was sucking the state into all sorts of inappropriate relationships - the very young were being manipulated, a couple of cynical pressure groups with friends in high places and bishops in the high house are conspiring to maintain their iron grip upon the resources of the state which they direct towards the believers.
The worst bit is putting together an exit strategy. Like it or not (the CLP didn’t) there are an uncomfortable number of complacent middle class parents who see faith schools as their passport to their piece of the pie. And given that the churches do own the buildings, there would be little chance of civilised debate bringing about a sensible conclusion. Make no mistake, they would fight. We would need every ounce of our conviction to prevail.
So Hattie would be told.
Corrine was given no instruction on whether she should mention the Oratory; this was not intended to be an exercise in embarrassing the Minister. Were the cap to fit……..
Nightwatchman
Sunday 29 June 2008
Wednesday 18 June 2008
Treading Water
It was the Constituency Meeting this week
Big night for the Tories. They had trailed the progress on the Swimming Baths as the subject for the night. We had two swimming clubs, various vaguely interested youngsters from John Willmott, couple of guys with no dog.
Oh!, and Dr Pocock.
And when the subject of the baths came up, we bowled into full water frolics mode.
The Redoubtable Howard had his guys splash through costs and benefits. The Constituency were blown away by the revelation that Hard Working Councillors had persuaded Birmingham to cough up £3.4m quid to invest in our (dry) baths.
This, on the face of it, was good news. This is not a wonderful time for anybody. Credit crunch has come to the West Midlands, purses have been tightened, belts have been tightened, getting the dosh was a triumph – a testament to the persuasive powers, the strategic negotiating skills of the twelve.
So here we were. Money flooding into Clifton Road, grateful citizens shouting ‘Huzza!’ and ‘Thanks for the Money’ and ‘Howard is a High Diver’.
Life seemed very sweet,
Somebody said was it alright if they asked a question
The question was welcomed with open arms.
‘Please, ask. What do you want to know? Do you want to know how long it would be before we can get our trunks on.’
‘No!’
‘What then?’.
‘What difference will it make?’
‘Pardon?’
‘What difference will it make? How will things be different?’
The High Diver took a deep breath. ‘You won’t notice.’
‘Sorry’
‘The improvements are structural. We opened it up, did what we had to, then put everything back. It’s a huge improvement,’
And the two swimming clubs, and the kids from John Willmott and the two guys without a dog. Nodded sagely and went home.
And so did Dr Pocock.
They all had but one word for the performance.
Wet.
Nightwatchman
Big night for the Tories. They had trailed the progress on the Swimming Baths as the subject for the night. We had two swimming clubs, various vaguely interested youngsters from John Willmott, couple of guys with no dog.
Oh!, and Dr Pocock.
And when the subject of the baths came up, we bowled into full water frolics mode.
The Redoubtable Howard had his guys splash through costs and benefits. The Constituency were blown away by the revelation that Hard Working Councillors had persuaded Birmingham to cough up £3.4m quid to invest in our (dry) baths.
This, on the face of it, was good news. This is not a wonderful time for anybody. Credit crunch has come to the West Midlands, purses have been tightened, belts have been tightened, getting the dosh was a triumph – a testament to the persuasive powers, the strategic negotiating skills of the twelve.
So here we were. Money flooding into Clifton Road, grateful citizens shouting ‘Huzza!’ and ‘Thanks for the Money’ and ‘Howard is a High Diver’.
Life seemed very sweet,
Somebody said was it alright if they asked a question
The question was welcomed with open arms.
‘Please, ask. What do you want to know? Do you want to know how long it would be before we can get our trunks on.’
‘No!’
‘What then?’.
‘What difference will it make?’
‘Pardon?’
‘What difference will it make? How will things be different?’
The High Diver took a deep breath. ‘You won’t notice.’
‘Sorry’
‘The improvements are structural. We opened it up, did what we had to, then put everything back. It’s a huge improvement,’
And the two swimming clubs, and the kids from John Willmott and the two guys without a dog. Nodded sagely and went home.
And so did Dr Pocock.
They all had but one word for the performance.
Wet.
Nightwatchman
Tuesday 10 June 2008
On the Street
What jumps out and hollers about the Sutton Coldfield Councillors is the dissonance. Dissonance between grandiose and slapstick. Howard occasionally manages to span this in one sentence.
We watch the grandstanding carefully, particularly on the larger scale projects like the Town Centre. We monitor the puffed up self importance and we try to peer through the murk to get to the actual proposals underneath.
We would dearly love to find some signs of ambition in there. We ache for a spark, or may be even a slightly glowing ember with a charred label saying ‘I’d like to make things a lot better’.
Our expectations are often dashed.
And then. Out of a clear blue sky. Howard announces his intent to spend an eighth of a million Bradburys on ‘enhancing the vibrancy of communities’.
Enhancing whaaat?
And he wants your views.
But he doesn’t want your views on the £125k. He wants your views on 8% of that.
He wants to know how you wish to spend on ‘Street Furniture and general improvements’.
But the balance, £115,000 is committed.
He has already bunged Mere Green Library £25,000 for Sunday opening and £15,000 has gone on ‘Additional Clean and Green Initiatives’.
Councillor Howard is unembarrassed.
“This is a real opportunity for local people to have a say”.
It is Howard’s Raison d’Etre. He gets to give out the sweeties.
But please confine your imaginations to the sum of £10k.
And think Street Furniture.
Nightwatchman
We watch the grandstanding carefully, particularly on the larger scale projects like the Town Centre. We monitor the puffed up self importance and we try to peer through the murk to get to the actual proposals underneath.
We would dearly love to find some signs of ambition in there. We ache for a spark, or may be even a slightly glowing ember with a charred label saying ‘I’d like to make things a lot better’.
Our expectations are often dashed.
And then. Out of a clear blue sky. Howard announces his intent to spend an eighth of a million Bradburys on ‘enhancing the vibrancy of communities’.
Enhancing whaaat?
And he wants your views.
But he doesn’t want your views on the £125k. He wants your views on 8% of that.
He wants to know how you wish to spend on ‘Street Furniture and general improvements’.
But the balance, £115,000 is committed.
He has already bunged Mere Green Library £25,000 for Sunday opening and £15,000 has gone on ‘Additional Clean and Green Initiatives’.
Councillor Howard is unembarrassed.
“This is a real opportunity for local people to have a say”.
It is Howard’s Raison d’Etre. He gets to give out the sweeties.
But please confine your imaginations to the sum of £10k.
And think Street Furniture.
Nightwatchman
Monday 2 June 2008
Getting things done
Judy was not a happy bunny.
It has to be said that an unhappy Judy is best avoided, or at very least humoured.
Judy is widely credited with putting the Green in Wylde Green.
She is not, as Mrs Thatcher once put it ‘One of us.’ She is not anything in our terms. Sort of independent – ah, well, no accounting for taste. She is, however, an enormously good egg.
Possessed of an extraordinary energy and no little organising skill, she threw herself into the Wylde Green forum more or less from the start. Her path crossed with the redoubtable Dr Pocock and a small committee of like minded and public minded citoyen.
They understood from the whistle that a credible representative local action group is possessed of a surprising power as long as they understand the levers and the triggers – which of course is the reason Dr Pocock was put on this planet.
So Wylde Green has seen a succession of what might be described as minor projects all of which have improved the lot of the community. In one sense this is surprisingly easy – all you need in inexhaustible reserves of energy, patience and most of all, determination.
So, you may have noticed that we have elegant planters each side of the main road, we have a subterranean bottle bank at the Lanes, we have somewhere to sit outside Sainsburys we have a more sensible traffic access to and from the Shopping Centre.
But last weekend we had a bench installed. Actually it was not installed, it was moved. New bench had been intended for the front of the HSBC but for various reasons it couldn’t stay there. It had to go up to the pavement outside Emmanuel Church. And there it was duly installed.
To Judy’s chagrin, it stands, right now cheek and jowl with the most dilapidated public bench you have ever seen in your life. Brand spanking new shiny bench and this refugee from the inter war years, possibly repainted in 1953.
Thus the manifestation of crestfallen bunny.
This will be sorted out. Offending chair, you may depend upon it, will be replaced or it will be refurbished.
It will be a little victory. It will not rock the foundations of Whitehall, or the Council House. But it will signal a further step along the road of the ordinary citizen, taking the trouble to take the trouble. And finding a voice, and making a difference.
It is slightly glorious.
But it does lead inevitably to the rather more general question.
What is it that the Councillors do for their stipend?
Nightwatchman
It has to be said that an unhappy Judy is best avoided, or at very least humoured.
Judy is widely credited with putting the Green in Wylde Green.
She is not, as Mrs Thatcher once put it ‘One of us.’ She is not anything in our terms. Sort of independent – ah, well, no accounting for taste. She is, however, an enormously good egg.
Possessed of an extraordinary energy and no little organising skill, she threw herself into the Wylde Green forum more or less from the start. Her path crossed with the redoubtable Dr Pocock and a small committee of like minded and public minded citoyen.
They understood from the whistle that a credible representative local action group is possessed of a surprising power as long as they understand the levers and the triggers – which of course is the reason Dr Pocock was put on this planet.
So Wylde Green has seen a succession of what might be described as minor projects all of which have improved the lot of the community. In one sense this is surprisingly easy – all you need in inexhaustible reserves of energy, patience and most of all, determination.
So, you may have noticed that we have elegant planters each side of the main road, we have a subterranean bottle bank at the Lanes, we have somewhere to sit outside Sainsburys we have a more sensible traffic access to and from the Shopping Centre.
But last weekend we had a bench installed. Actually it was not installed, it was moved. New bench had been intended for the front of the HSBC but for various reasons it couldn’t stay there. It had to go up to the pavement outside Emmanuel Church. And there it was duly installed.
To Judy’s chagrin, it stands, right now cheek and jowl with the most dilapidated public bench you have ever seen in your life. Brand spanking new shiny bench and this refugee from the inter war years, possibly repainted in 1953.
Thus the manifestation of crestfallen bunny.
This will be sorted out. Offending chair, you may depend upon it, will be replaced or it will be refurbished.
It will be a little victory. It will not rock the foundations of Whitehall, or the Council House. But it will signal a further step along the road of the ordinary citizen, taking the trouble to take the trouble. And finding a voice, and making a difference.
It is slightly glorious.
But it does lead inevitably to the rather more general question.
What is it that the Councillors do for their stipend?
Nightwatchman
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