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> Home Made Tales, The journey
peter.howden
post 19th Jan 2022, 11:45am
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THE VIRGIN GARDENER.(2/2)

Ben, feeling like a right cloth eared dunderheed, unfortunately for Ben there was no darkness of the night to swallow up his shadows of inaptness for the sun shone brightly as if to promote the brutal facts. Alas, he now heard the leather brogues of the all-in black Gaelic priest striding towards the rickety garden fence. after the last casual visit, Ben had been advised by his wife, this was no ordinary priest, but a much higher up in the Catholic belief and chapel, a ‘Monsignor’. In Ben experience, he was a compassionate and considerate clergy man. Arriving, the accomplished spiritual man asked softly if Ben would care to come to the chapel door, perhaps on Wednesday, to collect some potted flowers and green cutting which might benefit him.

Just as the man of God turned to leave, he quipped, “haven’t seen you at mass?” where Ben honestly replied, “no, I’m not of your faith…or any devotion!”. With this note, he marched off up the hill. Over the next few days, Ben was concerned he may have burnt his bridges with such a stark confession. On the actual day, he arrived at the Parochial house door, and for the life of him, he could not recall his benefactor’s actual name. in fact, couldn’t remember the ‘Monsignor’ mentioning his name, or title. The big, wooded door opened by another unknown priest, obviously impatiently waiting for some sort of response. Under pressure Ben’s brain went blank. In a awkward dash to say something …he loudly burped out, “Is your gaffer in?”. the startled man gave such a unwelcoming glare…for if stares could kill…, Ben would be turned to granite…or salt!

The stoned face priest demanded Ben to wait in a cold manner of suspicion, followed by an attitude you would imagine people witnessed with terror in the Spanish inquisition. The ‘Monsignor’ entered the hall several minutes later, spoke to the wary protector, before warmly taking Ben through the chapel’s green house, offering horticulture gifts until the ancient rusty barrow was full. On the other hand, Ben remembered reading …Leo Tolstoy had stated, ‘I’ll give you land abundant; honest soil and by means of that land... I will get you into my power’. This may suggest there is dis-honest lure, but Ben… the Gable-end virgin gardener learned where an authentic Christian lived
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peter.howden
post 20th Jan 2022, 08:03pm
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The Desultory fellow.

What’s in a kiss(1/2)


Because of extremely poor living conditions within Scotland, a desperately needed, or accidental trend began nearly 40 years ago, with the introduction of tenant self-controlled local housing associations. The living tapestry within this revolutionary housing movement, voted committees of ordinary Tennents, and each committee elected a chair, and director., mainly determined to make a difference in their homes, surroundings, and neighbourhoods.
As the growing movement of Committee members mirrored life itself…unfortunately found a couple of rogue directors’, pompous senior staff, some self-opinionated chairs, a few conceited witches as office bearers …but, completely outnumbering those naughty lemons, honest dedicated staff being supportive of everyday associates, genuinely occupied constructing neighbourhoods to be proud of… through hard work, surpassing beyond any measure ever dreamt.

Once upon a time, Shug and Old Tam, innate horses at the diplomacy game, attended quite a few network Conferences, organized by advisory establishments, such as S.F.H.A.., E.V.H..S.H.A.RE…G.W.S.Forum, conveying important legal information, Business plans, work ethics, structures, and inevitable changes in the government’s attitudes. Perhaps it’s Shug’s wavering memory to blame, but there was quite a bit of carefreeness and fun collectively between the serious business at hand.
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peter.howden
post 22nd Jan 2022, 11:34am
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What’s in a kiss(2/2)

One such weekend conference held in Perth’s prestigious Railway Hotel, was apparently slightly overbooked, leaving no room at the inn for the two old lags. The Director of this particular organization hosting the weekend , with kindness personified, offered to share his allotted spacious apartment (apparently used regularly by Pole taxer Iron Maiden, Maggie Thatcher).

In their newly gifted accommodation, Sam and auld Tam were surprised by their room being exceedingly spacious, carpets up to the ankles, plus furnished with a mahogany tallboy and chest of drawers, a fancy trouser press, two large single beds, a tea and coffee maker on the table between, a large television set in the far corner with remote control, a huge window draped with velvet curtains commanding a central view of the courtyard. To cater for their intimate toilet needs was an extended bathroom, shower included. The evening events came and went as the two pals settled down for the night

Rising exceedingly early next morning, having been disturbed by old Tam’s constant snoring, echoing throughout the massive room, each wheezing sounding like a prayed death wish. Auld Tam was still snoring loudly . Now standing in the total buff, Shug opened the curtains with a theatrical gesture, began to exercise with vigour, both arms and legs. Tam woke with bleary eyes, grumpily protested about Shug’s weird actions. Shug turned around, headed towards auld Tam, calling out in a feminine voice…. ‘Tam what you need is a big sloppy morning kiss’

Tam shot out of his bed like a rocket looking bewildered while hastily tripping into the bathroom…shutting the door with a banging stramsash. Hearing this slight kerfuffle…the Director opened his private door…revealing his own nakedness… other than Flash Harry boxer shorts… A sight to beyond at any time of the day?

To this day…he still coughs nervously…recollecting the memory.
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peter.howden
post 26th Jan 2022, 09:49am
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The Desultory fellow.(1/2)

Logic Language


If you are that keen to search, it’s so easy to find foibles before fortes in people or deeds. History is not what took place, or if indeed it ever happened, it is a victor wanting as to what befell. Shug has always possessed a kangaroo brain, which is not so good for a scribe possessing grammar and spelling as a drastic ‘want’. The newly formed housing movement made each committee being mostly volunteers as a thriving core, spread throughout Scotland, succeeding beyond all government’s expectations. One constant determination for all concerned, to make, and give their tenants and community, homes and living conditions of the very best they could achieve, under continuous growing government restrictions

The Government’ had made an announcement was its intentions to place £2 million, to combat any sigma, the term ‘Social Housing’ caused tenants. Conceivably, if they refrained from using the term ‘Social Housing’, changing with just ‘Rented Accommodation, it may have solved their inhouse problem. Senior civil servants, who advise the councils and government, their verbal and written correspondence was always way over complicated. Even their memos took some deciphering, wasting time using reams of paper to say very little, artfully screening what the actual document allegedly spelt out

Many…many years ago, there was a planned stress-free,1hour radio programme, discussion on personal views as to how the Scottish house occupant benefited from tenant control, in relationship to previous Council landlords. The wireless broadcasters had chosen three layers of community housing theme, a regulator overseer, (for the government) a distinguish director of a busy city housing association, (for the movement) a simple committee member,
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peter.howden
post 28th Jan 2022, 09:25am
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The Desultory fellow.(2/2)
Logic Language

The government, the councillors and notably the civil servants at the time made the movement feel as if walking on the ground as if the earth was a stranger to them. The important selected Committee member was unable to attend at the last moment, and anxiously, the Director attend ing could only manage to raise, Shug as a replacement

The government’s regulator was at one point in his career was the Governor of Barlinnie Prison…apt to requirements presumably. was a very polite, amiably spoken gentleman, arrived with a manly secretary trailing a hand trolley, loaded with small cabinets, full of portfolios. The sincere astute Director, holding years of experience with the movement, came with a small attaché case. Shug brought a current ‘Radio Times’. Just before the programme began, the lady interviewer asked why he brought it. he replied perhaps a tad lackadaisy, “to prove I don’t only watch the naughty misleading commercial television”.

He was given a BBC notepad and a pencil much to the annoyance of the sound engineer as Shug unwittingly used it as a drumstick until told otherwise. The serious questions were directed to the professionals , plus several aimed at Shug questioning his thoughts as to the Glasgow’s Councils. Shug believed he was not too bad under the circumstances until he heard a recording of the whole programme. Every single time he was talking about the councils’ reactions…he unfortunately referred to them by naming them as , ‘The Mob’.
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peter.howden
post 3rd Feb 2022, 03:17pm
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The Desultory fellow;

Why this Family?(1/2)


There was a continuous snag existed for the developing housing movement , repetitively enduring the changing moods of Government ministers, organizing clandestine meetings with civil servants, politicians, and local councillors. Administration officials attending delegations’ meetings with so called experts, talking down to everyday people, how unable they were, to work out banking world finance, assessing the real-world situation as it stands…because they couldn’t see the big picture. Most of the time they were totally excluded from the covert cinema

Shug was an unprofessional pilgrim, though proudly associated with the community Housing association, involved with their struggles, and triumphs throughout an undisclosed measure of time. As a reflexion of mankind, the movement consisted of a mixture of peoples, both professional staff and voluntary committees, having genuine guardian patriots, career minded entities, listeners, boasters, banshees, ‘

Each committee were the core of the movement of mostly volunteers, succeeded all expectations, trumping councils all over the country. One constant determination for all concerned, to build…giving their tenants and society, homes and living conditions of the very best they could achieve, under continuous growing government restrictions. All work and no play make’s Jack a dull boy, was not for Shug . Back in the days when a little light humour, a bit of merriment was part of the atmosphere at meetings and conferences, could and did assist a better relationship between all involved.
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peter.howden
post 4th Feb 2022, 09:00am
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The Desultory fellow;

Why this Family?(2/2)


Many moons have passed since within the boundary of the capital of the Highlands, ’Inverness’ a Scottish wide conference was held, debating a list of subjects but, each and every M’P on the platform, and political speakers implied, with crowed rhetoric, having read, and wisely digested, the entire hefty government’s ‘Nolan report’, ‘ The seven Principles of Public Life’…though ambiguous reference of the raw details…or actual themes

The last open question of the Saturday morning session was open to the entire, but now dulled audience, possibly wreaked by the quantity of mixed unidentified reference of the main subject. Shug hand was up and beckoned to place his question. He clearly asked pokerfaced; “what have the Irish girl pop group called ‘Nolan Sisters’ have to do with building housing in Scotland?”. Not a peep could be heard for a moment or two, then the house audience laughed and cheered…stony faced politicians had no reply…The chair diligently smiled…then closed the session

Three o clock of the next new morning, in the swanky hotel, filled with a joyful but more than slightly sloshed Shug…. and a warm cuddly lady twice his size, danced to Tina Turner’s… “What’s love got to do with it?”…and ”Simply the best”
The journey continues
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peter.howden
post 7th Feb 2022, 03:25pm
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The Desultory fellow.

Adjusted ?


Quite some time ago, the voluntary Housing movement in Scotland was placed in the hands of a new regulator, whose only previous experience was in banking, while their unbelievable cash fumbles were exposed. The controller headed the latest board, reputed immune to any individual’s interference… only accountable to the Scottish Parliament…that’ was nice? High in Shug’s estimation was the brilliant Academic administrator who held the reigns for the housing organization. Both now being invited to the swanky offices facing the Broomielaw, for introductions and plans for the future.

Move into their premises wadding ankle deep in carpeting, towards a massive oval-shaped table bursting with all types of cakes, savoury tarts, and buns galore, brown, and white sugar bowls. The new Regulator spoke softly for each person to introduce themselves while arranging tea and coffees. Shug picked tea, and as the brown sugar was the nearest to hand, took three spoonsful into the cup, filled it with simmered water. Trying hard not to show the taste was rather weird, as he sipped away at the weird beverage. Just before he was about to introduce himself, and his position in the discussions, he saw where he had made a blunder.

Seconds later Shug told the table his name ,but also… he was a dunderheed, for he had mixed a tea bag with powdered coffee instead of sugar. The host regulator sprang into almost apology mood, offering to personally replace the awful mixture. Much to the surprise of the rescuer, Shug replied there was no need, for not only was he a dunderheed, but also bammy…for he quite liked the peculiar blend !
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peter.howden
post 9th Feb 2022, 07:54pm
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The Desultory fellow.

The queue ?

He felt lucky, even privileged during the years being casually associated with the voluntary Housing movement which accomplished ground-breaking outcomes. People with a genuine goal to aim for, supported by exceptional professional individuals, and many committee members throughout his intriguing association. Caring principled directors, a unique mentor in management training, hardworking genuine staff, and a few very personal friends. The indisputable core was committees throughout the land, sincerely trying to improve their neighbourhoods as best they could. Others formed cliques creating various motives specifically for themselves, a few silently caught up with ‘being there for the ride’… Where Shug’s motives were in this human menagerie, is still in question.

The most important schedule in committee agendas were personal appearance at instructive conferences to meet fellow members throughout the land. Most of those informed seminars were a boon, some intense with quite a lot of data to swallow. What aided was the spells of relaxation when you could confab with others. Some may say the unique free periods was just mere gossip at the bar, but it was always particularly beneficial face to face information after a slight refreshment. What came out of these covert intervals was always a surprise. Way back in the early days, Shug shared with a new roommate on a conference held in Fisher’s hotel, Pitlochry, however having only one room key. It was arranged for the first one up after slight refreshments, would leave the door half-ajar for the other.

Shug tiptoed up to the room entirely satisfied while searching for the room-number. Halfway along the hallway was a row of four men at the next door to his. Cautiously, but puzzled Shug entered his room, closed the door. Roughly preparing for slumber he recalled leaving the door slightly open. As he did, he was confused as only three men were outside next room’s door. The following morning down at breakfast, he was asked if he witnessed the ruckus next door the night before. Totally unaware, Shug was informed how a female committee member next door to his, was sent home, in disgrace, for behaving in an intricate voluptuous conduct with four separate men. Shug asked soon after…several times …. if the males had been chastised for their behaviour…no one knew?
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peter.howden
post 13th Feb 2022, 02:12pm
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The Desultory fellow

Loose Waft Dialogues(1/2)


Everyone has foibles in one form or another, but it seems as if Shug’s little quirks have multiplied as age marched on. In the years involved with the Voluntary Housing Associations, sometimes he was placed to hold meetings and introduce speakers or even chair a conference. On those occasions, it became habitual for certain members to organize bets as to how long it would take him, to used light swear words or poke sassy questions to the lecturer regardless of rank or status. Some are slightly amusing but one particular quip he sincerely expresses regret for…to this day.

Being involved with the Group as an ordinary committee member, means having respect for directors, Housing officers and trusty administration of your own organization. Being engaged with supporting companies is equally identical, but with added regard for leading academics. In the year 2011, within the smart Radisson Hotel, as conference with both the new Regulator, and the deputy First Minister being the speakers. The Regulator was rather flustered when Shug gave silent signals to end her speech…in time for planned lunch.

After the break, with Shug totally out of sorts with home circumstances , stood up to proceed with the agenda. His brilliant advising academic’s suggested script in hand. He thanked all for being there and then looked down to the paper. Out of sync he unfortunately then uttered, “I have a script here to read…but I just can’t be bothered…we all know who she is…so let’s listen to her speal” then sat down as the polite lady politician rose to her feet. A look of complete disapproval from his vexed adviser still haunts him simply because, Shug learned that life is a continuous education, for even though it took only moments for the adviser to produce such a article…he was not given proper consideration

Next…A couple of humorous episodes in the famous Glasgow Central hotel
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peter.howden
post 15th Feb 2022, 11:50am
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The Desultory fellow

Loose Waft Dialogues(2/2)


Glasgow’s famed Central Station, has in the past, boasted some famous guest, such as ‘Laurel & Hardy’, ’Roy Rogers’ with Trigger on the splendid stairway. The magic ‘Dany Kaye’ on a balcony preformed for the packed crowded street down below. During Shug’s loose connection with the voluntary Housing Movement, per chance he was chosen to chair several teeming conferences. On one occasion armed with a trusty agenda, composed by his amazing organizing executive. Unfortunately, while introducing a local prominent director…Shug forgot the man’s name, shamefully adlibbing loudly…”I’ve forgotten your bloody name?”

The taken aback audience laughed and clapped. After the chap’s spiel, returning to his seat on the platform, as he passed, he whispered, “thanks for the amusing introduction”. Shug rose to his feet and announced over the microphone…”I apologize for such a gaff …and there will be a thorough investigation to find out why it happened?”…the meeting laughed louder, and the said unoffended director had a big grin on his face

The newly appointed First Minister’ of Scotland attended a conference held in the famed railway hotel as the main speaker. She was asked politely to leave politics out of her speech. It was clear everyone was anxious as to what the ‘First Lady’ would talk about. The Lady had done her homework, by talking about a certain piece of history on the hotel. John Logie Baird studied at the city’s Glasgow and West of Scotland Technical College- and the University of Glasgow before working in his amazing innovation

On the 27th of May 1927, the inventor John Logie Baird relayed the first long-distance television pictures between London and a fourth-floor bedroom in the Central Hotel. After her speech, Shug thanked her graciously, then stated, “ Yes it was so, and since then we’ve still been receiving the repeats on the telly!”
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peter.howden
post 18th Feb 2022, 10:07am
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The Male Dilemma

The male cold/flu shouldn’t be wiped …or sneezed at or downsized as a wee sniffle being utterly exaggerated by the male gender as the females claim. However, the most tragic result in recent years is how woman mostly look down their sensitive noses at the genuine man suffering colds/flue…both psychologically and physically causing confusion and chaos within the male body, even the D.N.A

The female of the species is more sensitive to pain, however cope with immune cells reliving pain naturally such as macrophages, neurons to alter pain sensitivity stimulating other immune cells, to mediate. A much lesser safeguarding electric cell within a plain male body. They say men could not endure the pain of childbirth, and they are correct, simple because men are not built emotionally or in the flesh for such a happening.

Men have extreme pain thresholds plus a greater pain tolerance women show more understanding to pain. There are several explanations for this variability. Over a period of 80,000 years, Bodily and mentally the male of the species, honed into thee specialist hunter and gatherer, to be instantly able spiritually at the slightest hint or whiff to immediately to his yesterday status as a crucial savage survival specialist …except? An unescapable void… Akin to superman… man’s Kryptonite is the frigid cold/flue strikes with a vengeance unaware of this trait…the female of the species mocks the males undesirable feebleness fate.
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peter.howden
post 19th Feb 2022, 12:03pm
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Granny’s Remedy)

As a young boy and growing adolescent, I suffered badly from dreaded spots and boils of all shapes and sizes. As the years have passed this embarrassment state has been explained as normal growth behaviour for teenagers of the male gender but while in action this became a constant harassment. The boils would spurt out with surprising speed and I would look in the mirror just before leaving to go out, and I would certainly see one or even two maturing on my neck. A look further on and there was a spread around my lower chin. Other boys had boils but they never seemed as big or as sore as mine. My affliction in tow I managed to struggle through life and carry on marrying the girl of \my heart. Life was now appearing colourful and bliss until the fateful day
.
A few days before that morning’s dawned, it became obvious that a boil had travelled far. This singular inflamed swelling had settled between the cheeks of my bottom. I did not know how big it actually was, but it felt like a volcano erupting pain Rebecca and I had been married for only a few weeks and we were still on honeymoon really and totally inexperienced in life or its funny ways. Rebecca could remember a remedy to rid of boils handed down by her great Gran to Gran to mum and then to her of a magic poultice made up of heated sugar, soap and kaolin and just thinking about it now brings tears to the eyes.

I lay on the bed face down while the gently warmed substance was placed between my bare cheeks and this mountain of a boil. After a short period we both realized that it was not being of any good and my wife suggests that it is not hot enough. The second attempt was totally different for the mixture was heated as far as she dared and then a couple of minutes extra for good measure like all good novice cooks do. The chosen wrap around the mixture was too small a piece for the amount of mixture made, expanded by heat I think , so when it was placed a second time it hit raw flesh. Well, it was such a shock it forced my cheeks together which made the mixture act like super glue while the force of the clam tight cheeks spurted the by now huge extra stuff out in all directions but mainly the ravine of my exposed bottom.

I was never a great athlete at school but with my new overheated aid I leapt upwards into the air from my lying position to what I believe a hairs breath away from the ceiling of our Victorian room returning to bed in a cat like posture screaming “get the buggering thing off”. This created a panic in Rebecca, much the same as a chicken that has had its unfortunate head chopped; she grabbed the only piece of cloth showing and pulled with feverous vigour.

Unfortunately, as she pulled more of this home-made larva discovered virgin skin relatively unscathed which led to my second leap. It was not as high a leap as my first, but it did manage to squish the remaining mixture forcing me to squeal in a very high pitch which I have since never could repeat …with no wish to do so. After such an ordeal, you would imagine that the very boil would have at least burst but no way. Rebecca argued convincingly that since I had been to hell and back, and to rid myself of this boil once and for all, heat I should try a course that her Granddad swore by. On reflex ion I now know why Granddad swore and call me a fool but by now I was past reason or thought and also my threshold for pain or so I believed.

I watched my wife prepare a heavy old milk bottle by heating it up in water just below boiling. She explained that by heating the bottle and placing it on the skin it would act like a kind of vacuum therefore suck up the boil puss and all. You may find this hard to believe that there was no sensation of pain whatsoever when it was placed surrounding the offending boil and she insisted that for it to work she would count to twenty before removing the very hot bottle with the two towels raped around it.

I was extremely embarrassed by now, but the count came to an end seemingly without success until Rebecca tried to remove the bottle which was rock fast. She had no choice but to give a violent tug and being in an awkward position lost her grip on the bottle leading to my third leap but my screams by now were muffled by muteness.

The aftermath was cream placed gently on the whole area and I was told the boil was indeed burst. A few days later, with the aid of mirrors, I could see for myself and all that remained and to this day is a perfect red ring mark.

My lovely wife has never had a boil or if she has…. never told me……
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peter.howden
post 23rd Feb 2022, 07:07pm
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The Desultory fellow

A pawn out of draughts


In the early 90s a surprise surge by the political minded to be seen urging common public-spirited individuals to be involved either in local council boards or be the token community representative for politic debates around Scotland. The chosen privileged member of the public was intitled to travel expenses to such events, though instructed to display on the discussion table, a statement of cost, such as a bus ticket, or recorded milage? No other attendee councillors or anyone else involved were subject to this assuring undignified rule. Nearly always 6 councillors from the City Chambers…all arrived in separate chauffeur driven posh limousines…deemed as equality?

Akin to all groups’ elected boards/agencies were made-up with a mixture of diehards from all sides , self-opinionated personalities ,sneaky cheats, “You scratch my back?”, a few humpties and a not many authentic individuals struggling against the odds for the good of the town, city, the country. Shug was judged a passer bye as far the board was concerned, for they had an uncanny knack bypassing any subject he wished to argue, being obliged to give note a week prior to the meeting. Fortunately for him, a candid bona fide administrator gave Shug hints and directions as to how to remind the board of their authentic mistake, then ram it home.

Many debates lasted far too long due to 2 councillors wishing their interposition only, was noted for the record. One year, 4 councillors, along with a bigger City Chambers group flew down to Newcastle, for 5 days jaunty, fact collecting knowledge on motorway camara connections, to install on the M8. 2 weeks later…Shug attended a weekend conference in Newcastle. He and a friend ware invited to go to the central camara systems headquarters and attend a two 1/2-hours lecture afterwards. When the next local meeting was held, Shug had more literature data, and understanding the structures and cost’s… than any other person present

Next; Atlantic Tower Hotel.

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peter.howden
post 27th Feb 2022, 08:11pm
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The Desultory fellow

Atlantic Tower Hotel.

Apart from a short period being a mediocre shop-steward, Shug, perception of fair play was questionable and without action. Being dubbed as ‘Representative of the community’ was slightly misleading at best. The only reason he became a tad involved in the first place was due to the unchangeable fact…a local Voluntary Housing Association’ was taking over as landlord of his home, away from the Glasgow Council’. So, wishing to understand the pros and Cons of such a transaction before it actually was set in stone…he inquired and dabbled a bit. Somehow along the way as being deemed the murmur of the people he was chosen, by a ‘Lags’ board, to be the single pleb on a fact-finding mission on poverty and the effect living on the dole via Liverpool and Manchester. Why those cities… he never found out ?

First class Return tickets for 3 M.Ps, two councillors, a high profiled civil Servant, and a single pleb. Alas, the conversations didn’t reach the fields of poverty within the carriage. the tête-à-tête within all the travelling was of other political subjects , added with the Civil senior Servant’s spitfire attitude towards Shug, vocally dissimilar for the rest of the company. Arriving in ‘Lime St station, boarded on to an organised deluxe bus guided tour around Anfield, Kirkdale, Toxteth…then making a beeline for the nights digs Atlantic Tower Hotel. The apartment assigned to Shug consisted of a hall, sitting room, next was a toilet/Shower…last room with a huge bath…each area having their own connected mainline phone. That evening, the discussion was everything other than the reason all were supposed to be there for…helped hugely by the expensive slight refreshment after a lavish meal.

One very loud M.P asked Shug, “Why, we have told you all about ourselves when you have inquired, but we know next to nothing about you?” Shug replied with a borrowed quote; “Most productive individuals I've known are the ones who do more listening than talking!” The following daybreak Shug’s porridge was served in a silver serving dish…with cream, by a gentleman dressed in proper tails, pin striped trousers…and white gloves. The morning was filled with a bus drive to Manchester’s Moss side, then Rochdale with a few muttered lines about deprivation …then back to the Liverpool hotel, free time. Next day home by first class train.

No written facts or verbal explanation or recorded conclusion existed about the trip…but later, Shug found out his elaborated extended rooms alone cost £250 a night…a high price indeed at the time. The hotel had been some grand establishment way in the past, with some over-the-top ideas… the same could not be said as this visiting group?
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