Author: postcardscribblesblog

PC 427 Hope Conversations

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I had promised Libby I would offer what support I could after she’d confided in Josh and me that she’d been Love Scammed. Knowing she’d be finishing her Barista duty behind the Hope Café counter mid-afternoon on Tuesday, I popped in, grabbed a double espresso from Josh, and joined Libby at one of the more secluded tables.

“Good to see you Richard and I think talking about my experience will help put it behind me. It knocked my confidence so much and has made be both more anxious and also more suspicious of other people, and that’s horrible.”

“Jim died a few years ago, right?

“Dear Jim. Yes. We’d had some wonderful times, then he had a heart attack and died in his chair, watching some trashy Soap on telly. He was only 68.”

“Well, I think that’s a good way to check out, rather than in a hospital bed or in some smelly care home. Then you came to join Duncan’s team here?”

“Gives me an opportunity to engage with the customers; some are delightfully chatty and when Susie was here. (Note 1) I felt like I had another family. But it was lonely at home, so when Andrew, never sure it was his real name, made contact via Facebook, I answered. He claimed to have known Jim through work ….. and soon we were texting quite regularly. Over a few weeks I began to look forward to his messages, telling me of his time in the Army, of his divorce and his sad estrangement from his three children. He made out he’d been the victim in the divorce, had lost so much and was now struggling financially. My heart went out to him, how his story of loneliness resonated with mine. We all need the company of others, right?

“Absolutely Libby. I’ve had periods in my own life when I have felt very lonely, others when I am surrounded by people, people whom I trust and love. Don’t tell me, Andrew asked for some money, like a friend’s brother David? A 61-year-old divorcee, he was sucked into believing that Tatiana from Leningrad was in love with him; he took the bait, ‘hook, line and sinker’! She couldn’t wait to come to England but first needed, oh! I can’t remember, money for her grandmother’s operation, a new passport, to buy the flights that she kept putting off. Eventually she hoodwinked him out of £30,000. Apparently there is still a hesitation in David’s mind that Tatiana exists, that she loves him!”   

“Exactly! Silly isn’t it! I’ve thought how could educated people be so stupid, and yet here I was sending money to his UK bank account, so he could pay the outstanding solicitor’s bill of £750. I had some savings and I imagined our relationship would be strengthened; maybe he would finally meet me.”

“So what happened? What made you realise it was a scam?”

“He said he was going to take me to Rome for a long weekend to say Thank You. He gave me all the details, flight timings, the name of the hotel and so on. Then he admitted he didn’t have a credit card and the hotel needed one for security. Oh! Why oh why! I gave him the card details and the security number and arranged to meet him at Check-in at Gatwick Airport on the Friday afternoon.”

“And he never showed? And he used your credit card? Oh! Libby I am so sorry.”

“Exactly! I felt so let down, cried all the way back to Hove in the taxi and tried to stop my credit card being used fraudulently. He took £15,000. The bank said I had given him my details and there was little it could do. (Note 2) There! Now I have told someone it feels better, so thank you Richard. The more people who know the less others will fall for these scams. Now I had better say goodbye to Josh and get on with my day. See you soon.”

I see Sami munching on a croissant so go and say hello.

“Haven’t got long, but thought I could tell you a recent experience.”

“Why not, Richard. If it’s quick.”

“Had to laugh the other day, both at myself and with Sandra, the Tesco member of staff. Although we naturally use Waitrose for our online weekly shop, there is a large Tesco’s supermarket a 5-minute walk away, opposite St Andrew’s Church in central Hove, which is handy for those few things you need right now. My regular but infrequent visits prompted me to apply online for a Tesco Clubcard, on the basis it costs me nothing and would occasionally reduce the bill at check-out. I downloaded it to my Wallet on my iPhone and on Monday thought I would try it out.

Arriving at the self-service checkout, I scanned my three items, opened the Wallet App, found the Tesco logo and presented the QR Code to the scanner. “We do not recognise this.” was its response. So I tried again ….. and got the same result. Whilst the supermarket wasn’t busy so I wasn’t holding up anyone, Sandra, who was just clearing empty plastic baskets, asked whether she could help. I explained I had never used my Clubcard before but …. and she took my iPhone and showed it to the scanner …. and got the same result. She then looked at my Wallet. The Tesco Clubcard QR Code was hiding behind an old Covid Travel Pass, which had expired in December 2021. We had a laugh.”

“Actually, that is funny Richard. Now, see you ….”

Richard 21st February 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Susie is Libby’s niece. After time in The Hope Café, Susie took a late Gap Year for six months in New Zealand and Australia before coming home to do a course in logistics.

Note 2 Victims of Romance Fraud lost more than £7 million in over 600 cases in Surrey and Sussex last year.

PC 426 It’s a Fine Line ….

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I was going to scribble how it’s often a fine line between success and failure, between life and death …… but I thought I would consult my Oxford Illustrated Dictionary and see what it says about ‘line’. Wow! Over a column of the three-columns-to-a-page layout devoted to the word ‘line’.

Most would immediately understand it is a noun and that it joins two points. We have telegraph and power lines; lines marking the boundaries of, for instance, a tennis court; life lines on the palm of your hand; lines that connect points having common property, like an isobar, or the Equator or lines of longitude or latitude; lines to be learned by actors, as opposed to reading between the lines to discover a meaning not obvious or expressed; a line of poetry remembered years later; somewhere to hang your washing, the clothes line; words to be written out as a school punishment; naval ships in formation are often line astern or line abreast;

tram lines in cities or railway lines criss-crossing the country; in Rugby Union forwards form a line to receive the ball from the touchline, a ‘line out’. As a verb, troops could line the streets for ceremonial occasions; you could line a drawer with paper or you could line your stomach, anticipating drinking too much alcohol!

My own fine line, my brush with death in 1991, remains very clear today. As a passenger (in car A in diagram) being driven into Canberra, Australia during the rush hour, traffic was heavy in both directions. Suddenly we were aware of a car (car B) overtaking the oncoming traffic, coming at us head-on. There was nowhere to go. My friend decided to swing right, although instinctively left would have been the better option!

The oncoming car swung to their right; a collision seemed inevitable. The only touch was the paintwork on the passenger-side wing mirror; a very fine line indeed.

Writing about lines, fine or not, remined me of a question I often asked my clients in their first coaching session. I would draw nine dots on a piece of paper, thus:

then ask them to join them up, using four straight lines, without taking their pencil off the paper. We habitually see things that aren’t necessarily there, because it gives us a comfortable feel, recognition of the familiar. I recall that about 25% of my clients were successful. Trump is thinking ‘outside of the box’ with his ideas about Gaza – makes me wonder whether he would be in the 25% or not?

Last weekend in Europe we had the second round of the Six Nations (Note 1) Rugby Union Competition. England were playing France; it was a very good game to watch and the lead changed hands throughout, although a last minute try by England meant we won 26 points to 25 …. a fine line. (Note 2)

Words which mean the same are collectively called synonyms, like ask, question or inquire, or beautiful, gorgeous and dazzling. You can also have a phrasal synonym, like ‘fine line’ and ‘hair’s breadth’. Typically a hair strand is between 0.03mm and 0.08mm in diameter; one nominal value often chosen is 75µm. Such measures can be found in many cultures; for instance in the Burmese system of Long Measure a tshan khyee, the smallest unit is literally a ‘hair’s breadth’.

A straight line between two points can be at any angle, but geometrically graphs always have at least two axes, one horizontal and one vertical. My pedantic nature is offended if something isn’t level, horizontal or vertical. Sometimes it’s a fine line, even half a degree or so. When we moved into our apartment in Amber House after its conversion in 2012, a couple of light switches were not straight; given the availability of spirit levels, it was a good example of poor workmanship.  

When sailing, if the wind is coming from the direction you want to go in, you have to ‘beat’, with the sails as flat as possible. It’s a very fine line to steer the yacht at its optimum; too much into the wind and sails start being back-winded; too far off the wind and the yacht heels so much, reducing the efficiency of the sail area. When you get it right, it’s as if the yacht ‘lifts its skirt and flies’; yachts are always female by tradition so this expression should be safe in this sensitive world.

For James Howells it’s still a fine line between success and abject misery! In Wales in 2013 he had a bitcoin wallet worth £4 million; its password was stored on his hard drive. His girlfriend, possibly ex by now (?), threw out the hard drive with some rubbish, presumably without knowing what it was. Somewhere under a mountain of household waste in some council refuse tip is a hard drive which, if retrieved, could unlock, at current bitcoin value, about a billion pounds sterling. He’s even offered the council millions if he’s allowed to successfully search for it, so far without success. 

The polarisation of everything, including politics, views about this and that, personal opinions, is making society more fractious, the line between acceptable and unacceptable extremely thin, like living on a knife-edge. With the increase in false news stories and conspiracy theories, it’s surely time for us all to apply good old fashioned common sense and move towards the centre.  

David Lammy the UK Government’s Foreign Secretary: “There’s a fine line, as you know, between free speech and hate speech.” Maybe I could add that it’s also a fine line between love and hate, other extremes. So, let’s concentrate on ‘Love’, particularly on this romantic day?

Richard St Valantine’s Day 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribles.co.uk

PS Last Summer, a tree near my brother-in-law’s apartment in Estoril Portugal looked as though it could do with about one third taken off it. Someone asked whether that should be from the top or the bottom. (Just think about that?)

Note 1 The six nations comprise England, Scotland, Wales, France, Italy and Ireland

Note 2 The previous weekend Ireland had beaten England 27-22.

PC 425 Generation Z

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The lyrics of Mike & The Mechanics’ song ‘The Living Years’ start: ‘Every generation, blames the one before, and all of their frustrations, come beating on your door.’ Nothing new under the sun then?

To those of my readers born between 1997 and 2012, although I doubt if my eldest grandson Jasper aged 13 is reading my postcards, and known collectively as Generation Z, thank you. (See Note 1 for generational definitions.) Thank you for what you have done for those of us who don’t want to drink alcohol or who don’t want to drink much alcohol or for those of us who believe you can celebrate anything without getting completely sozzled, hammered, out-of-it. In these scribbles I am exploring Generation Z, a decidedly different generation than those that have gone before, or is it? Is it solely that ‘Gen Z’ has a catchy ring to it, not something that could be levelled at ‘Millennials’!

I grew up in a household when there were two landline telephones, one in my parents’ bedroom and the other downstairs. Local telephone calls weren’t that expensive, ‘trunk’ ones more so ….. and international ones had to be booked through an operator. My Scottish step-father kept a tight control on the length of the latter. Then came mobiles, ‘cells’ if you are American, and talking to someone not next to you was easy. In fact telephone calls have become so ubiquitous that for some they’re a nuisance, an intrusion, and they’ve stopped answering their mobile. A rather odd choreography’s developed; you text someone to say you want to talk to them, asking if it’s convenient. The recipient, rather than call you, responds to your question.

A recent survey of 18 – 34-year-olds, so Millennials and Generation Z, found that 25% never answer their mobile; they either ignore the ringing, respond via text or, if they don’t recognise the number, search for it online. Psychologists have suggested that as they haven’t developed the habit of speaking on the phone, it now seems to Generation Z as weird and not the norm. Mind you we’ve all got fed up with cold calls and scammers. I do not answer my phone if I don’t recognise the number; if it’s important the caller will leave a message. My only exception is my local GP’s Surgery …. but for some very strange reason that comes up as ‘Majestic Wines’!

Generation Z have made more headlines about their beliefs and habits than previous ones but that probably reflects the exponential rise in fast communication. Traditionally there have been some big milestones in life; going to university, getting married, owning property and maybe having a baby (Note 2). According to Ceci Browning (aged 23): “The average cost of a house deposit is £50,000; the average age to be able to put that down is 34. The average age for getting married is around 31. With no savings, no hope of buying a house anytime soon and no desire to rush into lifelong monogamy, my generation are turning our backs on these objectives and finding alternative markers to measure the progress of our lives.”

They obviously think it’s the fault of previous generations that houses seem unaffordable, but then they display a rather ‘I want it, and I want it now’ attitude; the entitled generation. I reflect I was 31 when I first got married, 32 when I bought my first house; so maybe this is just a whinge?

For Ceci, her markers are running a Half Marathon; quitting her job …. to follow her dream; taking a sabbatical …. after getting qualified and knuckling down; go back-packing for six months before she’s 30; launching an entrepreneurial side-line to feel accomplished; moving abroad …. and finally, starting therapy.

It’s well known that Generation Z talk about their feelings more than any previous ones.  Robert Crampton, a Times writer: “I’m thinking, for instance, of hugging. Young people hug each other all the time, even at first meeting, boys with boys, girls with girls, girls with boys. Hugging just wasn’t done when I was their age, not even between parents and their kids, or not much anyway, and we missed out. I mean, c’mon, who doesn’t love a hug?” You will remember that worrying headline from Caitlin Moran from PC 421: ‘Too many boys are killing themselves. We have to encourage them to talk, cry and scream.’

Having spent 15 years seeing business clients 1:1, I know how vitally important it can be to talk to someone, to engage. If it’s become normal for Generation Z, that’s all for the good. But, and it’s a big ‘but’, there is a large difference between coping with life’s ups and downs, experiencing, learning, making choices, and claiming ‘it’s bad for my mental health’! An extremely small number of people do need medication and care to simply survive, but the cry from a majority about their mental health is getting very boring.

More information about this generation appeared last month. Shock headlines: ‘They don’t own a car’ – if you live in a town, why would you? Costly to park, bad for the urban environment! ‘Forty three percent don’t drink alcohol’ – wonderful! ‘They think they are more hygienic than other generations.’ – now that can’t be a bad thing; we could all learn better hygiene habits. ‘They are food-aware ie about glucose and lactose and allergies but not obsessed with their size or shape.’ We have an obesity crisis in the UK so being more knowledgeable about food must be a good thing.

A final comment. If you belong to either Gen Z or are a Millennial, be aware of both the positive and the negative power of social media. Cancelling anyone is a good example of the latter.

Richard 7th February 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 The Greatest (1901-1927), The Silent (1928-1945), The Baby Boomers (1946-1964), Generation X (1965-1980), Millennials (1981-1996), Generation Z (1997-2012), Generation Alpha ((2013-2024) and Generation Beta (2025-2039)

Note 2. The birthrate across most developed countries is dropping, despite their effects to encourage more procreation. Everyone is worried that the growing financial burden of an older population falling on the shrinking workforce is unsustainable. Fortunately, here in the UK net immigration seems to buck the negative trends seen elsewhere. But young adults no longer necessarily think having a baby is the next logical step along life’s path; according to Shane Watson, writing in The Times, they rather see it as ‘the single biggest drain on resources, time, freedom and mental stability …. and it’s voluntary’.

PC 424 We are Nothing Without Hope

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There was a very good reason that Duncan named his café here in Hove ‘The Hope Café’, as on that single word hang our todays and our tomorrows. Without hope, in whatever form, we are nothing. Last Monday was International Holocaust Memorial Day, this year’s made even more poignant as it is the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

Back in February 2022 I wrote about the atrocities sections of our global society have inflicted, one against another, in PC 268 Least We Forget. Whilst acknowledging that unspeakable horrors committed, man on man, have not been exclusively the preserve of the Nazis, the latter managed to create an industrial killing machine within their concentration camps. Just remember these words: ‘In Auschwitz it’s estimated that a million Jews were killed’; 1,000,000 individuals expecting, as we do today, to have a reasonable life expectancy, simply snuffed out because of their race. The testimonies of survivors at Monday’s Ceremony of Remembrance at Auschwitz shared a common theme, that current and future generations must heed the alarm bells already ringing from rampant antisemitism on display in the Middle East and elsewhere.

Last December I read ‘The Happiest Man on Earth’, the autobiographical account by Eddie Jaku (Note 1) of his life, particularly the years he spent in Buchenwald and Auschwitz. For those who are uncertain whether these camps existed, this story lays it out in all its horror and degradation. You may have already read what King Charles wrote on Monday in the Auschwitz Visitors’ Book: “Remembering what took place here, and those who were so cruelly murdered, is a duty, a sacred duty that must be protected. Being here today, hearing the stories of those who experienced its horrors, seeing the shoes of children whose lives were taken when they’d just begun, and walking the paths upon which such cruelty was inflicted is something I will never forget.”

Tova Friedman, now 86 but aged 6 when Auschwitz was liberated, should have a final word. “I stood and watched helplessly as little girls were marched away to the gas chamber. ….. I thought it was normal that if you were a Jewish child, you had to die.”

Let us hope.

I was hoping to have a chat with Lisa, Sami’s partner, when I went to The Hope Café on Wednesday, as I hadn’t seen her this year. Sure enough she’s at a table, tapping her laptop keyboard as if her life depended on it. Incidentally I hope that schools are teaching children to type properly and not just using two fingers. Unlike mine, their future is digital. Lisa’s happy to be interrupted.

“Hi! Richard. I enjoyed your last postcard …. what was its title ….  ‘There Are Standards, Carruthers.’  Excellent! I bet it garnered a lot of comments?”

“It certainly did! Funny how we find something so simple as manners and common courtesies an interesting topic. There were a lot of new readers who ‘liked’ it, so I am pleased. How are you and Sami?”

“We’re very good, thanks. With the weather so vile we’ve probably watched more television that we usually do and really enjoyed a new drama called Patience, set in the City of York. The character of the title, Patience, played by Ella Maisy Purvis, has autism, as has Ella. I read “In an overcrowded crime drama market it is the slowly developing connection between Bea (Ed. Bea Metcalf is a detective working for Yorkshire Police) and Patience that is the Bechdel test-passing USP of this show.”

“Er! What’s the Bechdel test?”

“Glad you asked. I was aware of it but it’s become very popular of late, so I looked it up. Essentially it asks whether a work featuring at least two female characters have a conversation about something other than a man.”

“Can you imagine? But seriously, that is interesting. And I assume Patience is neurodiverse….”

“Absolutely! Just like Bill Gates and see where that got him.”

“Celina and I occasionally watch dramas on Channel Four which are sponsored by a user car dealership called Arnold Clark; the advertisements always feature a car … surprising huh! One of the latest shows a chap taking an electrical charging cable, walking to the charging point on the rear of his electric car, and plugging it in. Then he seems to stand there, holding the cable handle, looking up …… at an imaginary petrol station pump display ….. as he had always done!

“Ah! Habits die hard.”

“You may remember in PC 422 ‘Back in The Hope Café’, right at the end, I admitted to Mo that I had asked someone who was due to have an acupuncture session whether it was online or were they going to the practice. Since then, the acupuncturist has confirmed he charges 25% more for online appointments!

Then I had an amusing exchange with our masseuse, Kay, who had a tree in her garden that needed trimming. She asked by text whether she could borrow a saw. She’d dictated her text and hadn’t checked it before pressing ‘send’. It came out as ‘I would love to borrow your soul if that’s possible.’ A day later she realised: ‘Just realised I’ve asked to borrow your soul. I’ll let you keep it and just stick with the saw. Anyway, didn’t you sell your soul a long time ago?’ My response was short: ‘Too long ago to remember; too short a time to forget.’”

“Brilliant! By the way, I noticed Libby’s looking very subdued and quietly asked Josh if he knew why.  Apparently, she’s admitted to him that she’d been the victim in a Romance Scam, has lost a lot of money and is feeling very embarrassed.”

“I am not surprised! I’ll have a chat with her sometime, not now, and see if she can put it behind her.

Richard 31st January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS For clarity, I am not Jewish, simply a human being.

Note 1 Eddie Jaku OAM (Order of Australia Medal) was born Abraham Jakubowicz in 1920. He died in Sydney in October 2021.

PC 423 There Are Standards, Carruthers (PS)

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There are standards, there are passing fads and there are habits. But even the standards that you grew up with, understood them to be sacrosanct and embedded in your DNA, can and should be challenged sometimes. Take men’s shoes; I am using them as an example as to comment on women’s would be like me commenting on whether wedges are more comfortable than stilettos, and I am not qualified to do so!

I grew up in the days of leather, leather shoes and leather soles. I think I had a pair of suede shoes, not Hush puppies, but it was the leather polished ones which defined my upbringing. At Sandhurst we were taught how to polish one’s brown shoes, getting the wax into the welts, and one’s parade ground Drill Boots, with their steel quarters on the heels and the studs on the sole. We were even told that one should polish the instep of the shoes so that, when you were sitting down, if you crossed one leg over the other, exposing the instep, it looked cared for and polished. These habits became part of the collection of one’s standards. Like having a crease down the length of one’s trousers.

Then I got into suede boots and the number of shoes requiring polishing diminished. Back then trainers were what you wore if you were training, obviously; in the gym, on the running track, playing squash or going for a jog. They went with track suits, not an item of clothing for everyday wear, surely, Caruthers. Now I have more trainer-type footwear than leather shoes, the latter growing Mold at the back of the wardrobe. But if I do wear leather ones, they have to be polished beforehand.

Table manners are another ‘standards’ issue. In one of my PCs I mentioned I went to be interviewed by the C-in-C BAOR for a role. The first test would be over luncheon (Note 1), the unspoken ‘knife-and-fork test’; how did I hold my knife and fork, what did I do with them when I wasn’t eating, did I speak when I had food in my mouth and was still masticating etc. I was brought up to believe that these things mattered and still do. I try not to show how sad I am when others stab their food as if it will jump off the plate, hold their knife and fork vertically as if to indicate no one should try to take something off their plate or just speak with an open mouth showing the half-digested potato or sausage. Just so gross!

Writing about individuals eating with their mouth open reminded me that, many years ago, a new client sat down at my table in the Institute of Directors in Pall Mall, the start of some coaching sessions, expecting us to get straight into it. We did, after he had disappeared to the Men’s Room to remove his chewing gum. There are standards, Carruthers!

And if you are wondering, puddings should be eaten with a fork or a spoon and fork, not a spoon on its own!

Napkins or serviettes, call them what you will, are another essential when eating. Because I like ironing, I am happy we use proper napkins, linen or cotton and not some paper replica, unless it’s for a party, like these:

And if you use a napkin, it’s good to have your own napkin ring in which to put it. There are standards after all.

I am not sure when it started but it has for me become one of the most annoying habits to witness and it’s mainly actioned by, I think, under-thirties women. Although in this age of equality I wouldn’t want to exclude some members of the opposite sex and anyone in between. For any multitude of reasons, the individual is feeling anxious and that anxious emotion brings a certain wetness to their eyes. Whether in disbelief that they’re going to cry or pleased that they’re showing their feelings, they move their hands towards their cheeks, fingers extended, nails prominent …. and shake their fingers, brow creased ….. mumbling ‘I don’t want to cry’ or somesuch. Someone could choreograph a little ballet with each finger having its own independent part to play. Any tears are carefully wiped away with the finger-print part of the finger; otherwise, their fashionable nails would stab them in the eye. (Note 2) I know we’re encouraging everyone to show their feelings more, especially young men, but this is absolutely ridiculous. And it goes on and on and no one says: “Oh! For God’s sake, Emma, get a f**king grip!” because that would breech their human rights.  

I have written before about ‘Loo Paper’ (PC 47 Aug 2015) and ‘The Loo’ (PC 54 November 2015). After using the loo, I think it’s important to close the lid, but I hadn’t factored in the latest advice. Close the lid then flush and not the other way around:

And finally, if you go to someone’s house and use a knife & fork, ie having something to eat, you should write a Thank You letter. With the cost of postage sky high, I write mine in cursive script with a fountain pen, take a photo then send it via WhatsApp. A rather modern take on old-fashioned standards; Carruthers would smile.

Richard 24th January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Carruthers is an old Scottish surname which reeks of upper-class aloofness. Inter alia, the main protagonist of Erskine Childers’ novel ‘The Riddle of The Sands’.

Note 1 Another word that defines a class and an age …. and an indefinable ‘meat’! Actually ‘fine-particle meat products enriched with pork fat and flavouring additives.’ Sounds very healthy.

Note 2 Nail extensions have become longer and longer, so much so that some should be registered as dangerous weapons and the owners of others will have problems in the future as in order to use a keyboard today, they have to hold their fingers in a convex manner.

PC 422 Back in The Hope Café

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After a couple of postcards that, on reflection, were quite serious in content, I needed to relax a little, so headed to The Hope Café for some R&R (Note 1). With a pastry and double espresso in hand, I found a corner table and sat … and relaxed … and observed. Such a great pastime, watching other people living, doing, engaging, focused; fortunately, most people who are here in The Hope Café come to meet others or just get some relaxation, some space away from their hectic life outside. Well, most; apart from our budding novelist Robert, who is tapping away on his laptop at the window counter, lost in his own world of fictional stories and subplots and characterisation. He gets the best of both worlds, working with headphones clamped over his ears listening to a podcast or music, whilst absorbing the café’s ambience and warmth by a process of osmosis!

 I guess we’ve all noticed a very modern trend; where acquaintances get around a restaurant table, order some food and drinks and then get their mobiles out and catch up with their social media lives and have no conversations IRL (in real life).  It doesn’t happen here in The Hope.

I was struggling with one of The Times’ hard Killer Sudokus, which I do on a daily basis as it keeps the grey matter well oiled, when I had a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Mo. Pleased, I motioned to her to sit down.

“Listen, Richard; I bet you had a lot of comments about your last scribbles about the Cancel Culture. (PC 421 Not the Way to Go January 2025). I thought you did a great job, highlighting this very real issue. It’s awful and a very worrying state of affairs, especially for those with low self-esteem. The new ‘being sent to Coventry’, perhaps; used to mean deliberately ostracising them, by not talking to them and acting as though they no longer exist. Sounds about right?” (Note 2)

“I got a lot of reaction, yes, but all rather sad, huh! One friend whom we met in the Portslade yoga studio has two sons in their early twenties. The older one did a Video Gaming course at university; “Bullied online over the last few days. Really awful; impacted his physical and emotional well-being; seems as though younger people are losing their kindness and the ability to discuss differences openly and curiously without judgment; he had to remove himself from one gaming group.”

“You may have read about 66-year-old Martin Speake, who taught jazz for 22 years at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire in London?”

“Not a name that rings any bells. Tell me more?”

“It’s a complex story with many nuances but in essence when Speake was asked for feedback on the school’s equality and diversity policy, he said he didn’t agree that black musicians were discriminated against in the UK’s jazz scene (Note 3). Martin Speake is white. His response was ‘shared’, his classes were boycotted …. and he was eventually forced to resign. It was claimed by a student that his email has made black musicians feel unsafe at Trinity. He believes that students are treated like customers so they’re in charge but they don’t have the maturity to know what they are doing; ‘they have destroyed my life’.”

“That’s such a sad reflection on the world in which we live. We can only hope that common sense will return. By the way, I know you read The Times; did you see the obituary of Cherry Hill?”

“Never heard of her, no.”

“She was a prize-winning model maker, who spent a lifetime creating elaborate scaled-down versions of Victorian traction engines and other machines, some of which had not even been built at full size.”

“And why are you mentioning her?”

“Because I was astounded by her skill and attention to detail. I took this screen shot of her model of a Blackburn agricultural engine of 1857:

“Wow! That’s incredible. Incidentally, you asked whether I had lots of comments about my last PC. Yes, but PCs 417 and 419 (Have you Read …) were equally popular. One of my readers, Priscilla Goslin, author of ‘How to Be a Carioca’ (Note 4), not only passed them on to one of her adult sons, who has ‘difficulty of letting go of past disappointments’, but also admitted to having copy of Zen Flesh Zen Bones: ‘on my shelf forever. I’ve never known anyone who had it! I can still recite a few of the stories.’ Priscilla lives 50/50 in Brazil and the USA.

Before I go, Mo, I thought you would be amused at my recent stupidity. We get so used to doing things online that when someone I know said they were going to see an acupuncturist, I immediately asked: “Is that online or are you going to their practice? Bye ….”

Good to chat!  

Richard 17th January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 R&R is an abbreviation for Rest & Recuperation, a term I first came across in 1973. Halfway through our four-month operational tour in Londonderry, Northern Ireland, we had three days ‘R&R’. Those soldiers who were married flew back home to Germany, those who were single flew to the UK mainland. After living in a heightened state of alert for weeks, it was weird and strange to re-enter ‘normal life’, even for a few days.

Note 2 The phrase may date from the English Civil War (August 1642 – September 1951) when Coventry had a military prison. Others suggest it dates from the C18th when Coventry was the nearest town to London that lay outside the jurisdiction of the Bow Street Runners, so London criminals would flee there to escape arrest.

Note 3 Probably some ‘tick box’ survey.

Note 4. An international best seller since 1992, this is a humorous look at what makes up one of the world’s most colourful characters – the Carioca, a resident of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

PC 421 Not the way to go

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I hope most of my readers will be aware of the phrases ‘cancel culture’ and ‘ghosting’. The latter was the subject of a book entitled ‘Ghosts’ by British millennial author Dolly Alderton; an interesting if heartbreaking story. What concerns me is the long lasting, often traumatic, effect that either action has on its victims. Last year there was an article in The Times entitled “Cancel Culture on Campus; ‘Most of us are terrified’” by Alice Thomson. She was prompted to investigate what is going on by the death of Alexander Rogers, an Oxford undergraduate who committed suicide after being ‘cancelled’. Someone killed themselves because they were cancelled?

The coroner, Nicholas Graham, seemed to think that the punishment of ostracization exacted immediately before Roger’s suicide played an influential role. He cited an independent review commissioned by his college, Corpus Christi, describing an establishment and normalised culture in which students would rush to judgement without knowledge of all the facts and shun those accused. Finally, he urged those in positions of responsibility to take cancel culture, ‘the exclusion of students from social circles based on allegations of misconduct, often without due process or a fair hearing’, seriously. Thomson wrote that whilst at 20 one is old enough to take responsibility for one’s actions, nothing should be unforgiveable.

Blimey! Actually ‘blimey’ doesn’t do it! ‘What the f**k?’ would be a better expression of my reaction. What a very sad reflection on the realities of the social scene for our young adults, a time when they should be experiencing and learning about relationships in real life, not shunning them for fear of being cancelled; in real life and not on-line! A graduate of Cambridge, Ceci Browning, wrote: “This is the paradox of my generation. We are meant to be the most tolerant and liberal, yet when one of our friends slips up and falls out of step, they become the enemy. We cut friends and acquaintances from our lives on the basis of second-hand information about something deemed morally iffy that they may or may not have done. But we are also perpetually afraid that precisely the same thing could happen to us.”

We know that the difficulties of learning how to start, continue and stop relationships start in one’s teenage years. My own childhood, although privileged, was very mixed. Whilst I have fond memories of the second preparatory boarding school where I spent my pre-teenage years, I shudder at some of the early memories I had of my teenage ones. Bullied and ostracised, rather wet by nature, feeling abandoned by my parents, I took a long while to find my feet and my confidence. Then of course there was no instant messaging, no aggrieved soul venting their hurt on social media, for others to share with God knows who. So rumours rose and died, snuffed out by the smallness of the audience.  

The suicide of Alexander Rogers is another statistic to some, but Caitlin Moran’s recent article ‘Too Many Boys are Killing Themselves.’ highlights a worrying trend. I read her book ‘About Men’ last year, an unusual topic for her, and subsequently wrote PCs 352 & 354 (About Men and More About Men) in September 2023. Moran writes that too many boys/young men are killing themselves. I have three grandsons so this subject is right there, on the front burner for me, trying to understand the modern pressures and how the three of them will be able to develop sensible values and self-discipline, able to filter out the crap peddled by influencers like Tait, who want to encourage boys to become incel – ‘unable to find a romantic or sexual partner’.

Socially relationships are key to our social fitness. The concept is not new; Aristotle, writing more than 2000 years ago, said that ‘man is by nature a social animal’. Moran described the difficulties of both sexes interacting in the digital world. For instance, what to one person might be an attempt to give an affectionate ‘touch of the neck’ could be construed by the object of their actions, someone who perhaps has watched too much internet porn, as a preliminary move towards a strangle hold and shock and revulsion is their response; a touch of the lower back easily extrapolated into an imagination of unwanted sexual advances. And this at a time when everyone is experimenting, trying what works for them, understanding what doesn’t.

It’s also important to remember that the ‘squishy part of the brain responsible for sensible decision-making’ isn’t completely developed until one’s mid to late 20s. ‘Students are still especially susceptible to making stupid mistakes and perhaps overreacting to perceived slights’. Rather than try and discuss and understand and accept an apology, they reach for their social media account. Stories are gobbled up in such an insatiable way there is no thought to pause, to think if it’s true or somewhat exaggerated; ‘share’ and ‘share’, part of the herd. So when someone is cancelled by those whom they believed to be in their ‘friends and acquaintances’ circle, it doesn’t take much to understand how their whole world comes crashing down.

I wonder whether those involved in the story of Alexander, either personally or by association, feel any lasting blame for their actions, any lasting shame. What has changed since the independent report commissioned by Corpus Christi? Has it really made it easier for students to talk about the inappropriate behaviour of other students, as part of a normal discourse about growing up and developing proper boundaries, or has the college decided that its reputation is more important than that of one individual?

In the final analysis we think and no one else can do that for us; we feel what we think, these feelings coloured by past experiences and expectations; then it’s our responsibility whether we act …. or not.

Richard 10th January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Read ‘The Happiest Man on Earth’ by Eddie Jaku if you’re a bit down; time to reflect.

PC 420 Contentious Issues in the UK for 2025

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The complete resolution of contentious issues here in the UK seems impossible, taking forever, so much so that one suspects a certain degree of wilful obstruction and reluctance in the decision-making organisations. For example, I wrote about the scandal that engulfed sub postmasters and sub postmistresses back in June 2021, in PC 235 Generosity in Government, a piece which dealt with both the Post Office (PO) Scandal and the aftermath of the 2017 Grenfell Tower fire and its inflammable cladding. Then I met Sami in The Hope Café, listened to his own experience of working for the PO, which had ended up in his bankruptcy (See PC 271 Friday 25th February 2022). The last Tory government and the new Labour one both committed to ensuring every postmaster and mistress was exonerated and given compensation, no questions asked. And some still wait, PO lawyers arguing about levels of the latter. The Post Office Independent Inquiry finished on 18th December 2024 but don’t hold your breath for criminal charges to be brought. One estimate is two years! A good example of lack of action for fear of organisational reputation.

The Church of England is our ‘established’ church and in an ideal world should not only reflect the current mores of our society but also set some standards; if it can’t I think the link between church and state should be severed. The last Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, was a political appointee, famous for asking the population before the May 2023 Coronation to show obedience to and genuflect before the new king. Shades of ‘doffing one’s cap to the landowner’; fortunately, he was put right. What it showed was someone out of touch with society and his organisation’s role in it.

This aloofness was further demonstrated by his inability to get rid of a known paedophilic priest; he completely misunderstood the public mood, its belief that the church continues to protect its own. He was forced to resign and formally leaves the role on Monday. So far, so right and proper, you might think. A good example of lack of action for fear of organisational reputation. Sadly, he added insult to injury by making light of the whole saga in his House of Lords (Note 1) final speech, neither offering an apology nor mentioning the victims. His possible successor, the Archbishop of York, has also been linked to a sexual abuse case within the church and his inaction in ridding the church of the abusive priest. Another example of lack of action for fear of organisational reputation.

The threads remain. At two of Scotland’s prestigious schools, Edinburgh Academy and at Fettes College in the 1970s, ‘Edgar’ was notorious for his sexual abuse of dozens of boys. Rather than have him investigated by the police, he was given a glowing reference and allowed to take up a post in a school in South Africa, where he continued his evil behaviour. In this case, those who ran the schools are guilty of putting the reputation of the school before the victims. Edgar did not face his victims; he died whilst the UK and South Africa were agreeing his extradition back to the UK. The only good thing to come out of this is that more and more individuals are coming forward to tell their stories; those in charge in schools must be held to account.

Sami and I chatted about the Infected Blood Scandal in PC 392 Hope Continues (June 2024). After the inquiry concluded ‘the NHS and successive governments of all colours took part in a chilling cover-up and closed ranks to hide the truth’, the government announced a £11.8 billion payout. But the compensation scheme for some reason differentiates between those who contracted HIV from those who contracted hepatitis C. Somone with HIV gets over £2 million whereas someone with hepatitis C around £750,000; now the latter group are dying at a faster rate than those with HIV. Another example of a lack of urgency and fairness to settle the matter.

I can’t finish this postcard without wondering whether the fallout of the trial of Dominique Pelicot will have any lasting effect in France or indeed over here. It was his own actions, being caught ‘upskirting’, that led to the discovery of his cache of videos, but it was the courage of his wife, Gisèle, that led to an international furore and his subsequent very public trial. The media have made much of the remarks of the mayor of their village of Mazan, Louis Bonnet: “…. after all, no one died. It could have been far more serious. There were no kids involved. No women were killed.” He later apologised but there’s a feeling that the actions of Pelicot and those men who participated merely deserved a Gallic shrug. Sadly, society has a long way to go to accept that women and men should be given completely equal treatment. This not only applies to Christian societies but also to those who treat women in an unequal way.

There are many other contentious issues for the UK, but I’ll highlight another two to finish this postcard. I mentioned the Assisted Dying Bill in PC 418 Hope Christmas News. This is such a huge moral issue its unlikely to be far from the headlines. This month it’ll start its Committee Stage in the House of Commons.

The other is a change to Inheritance Tax rules. When I die my estate will attract a tax of 40% on my assets, after a tax-free threshold of £325,000. If I leave my home to Celina, there’s no tax. If I leave it to my daughter, I have a tax-free threshold of £500,000. I suspect she would have to sell it to pay the tax. The new Labour government have said that farmers, hitherto exempt, will have to pay inheritance tax at 20%. It’s a complicated scene, with tax allowances and the value of land, generational ownership etc but it brought the tractors into London …… and the furore is unlikely to go away.

Happy Contentious Issues 2025

Richard 3rd January 2025

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Today the news is that the urgent review of Social Care overhaul is delayed until 2028. Government urgency huh!

Note 1 The Archbishops of Canterbury and York, the Bishops of London, of Durham and of Winchester and the next 21 most senior diocesan bishops are all members of the House of Lords.

PC 419 Have you read …. (A continuation of PC 417)

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Searching for ‘Zen Flesh Zen Bones’ on my bookshelf I spotted ‘Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah’. Written by the author of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Richard Bach’s story concerns a barnstormer working the rural communities in the Midwest of the United States. Somewhere he describes how this reluctant messiah teaches the narrator to walk on water; it’s all in the mind, of course! But more importantly Bach starts his book with this little story which is worth repeating.

“Once there lived a colony of creatures (Note 1) along the bottom of a great crystal river. The current swept silently over them all, young and old, rich and poor, good and evil, the current knowing its own way. Each creature in their own way clung tightly to the rocks at the bottom of the river, for clinging was their way of life, what they had learned from birth. But one day a young creature said he was tired of clinging, was bored, that he would let go, trust the current and let it take him where it would. The other creatures said he would surely die, smashed against the rocks but, unpersuaded, he let go and the current lifted him up and took him downstream, free. Creatures downstream saw him and cried: ‘See, a miracle! He’s the messiah come to save us.’ ‘I am no more the messiah than you. The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare to let go ……’.

Ah! Yes! If only we dare to let go ……

Then I was reminded of something I wrote over ten years ago about letting go. I had come across a poem attached to the wall of a café in Tasmania, a remote and sparsely populated island state in Australia. It was a list of such lovely exhortations with a positive spin, found in such a bizarre place, it begged to be copied and studied. There are many examples of ‘letting go’ that come to mind and those who read this column may begin to reflect on their own circumstances, their own experiences.

In the jobs we do, roles we undertake, companies we work for, we all make many and varied attachments. Since the 1990s, redundancy has sadly become a normal feature of the working environment; “Sorry, Simon, we’re going to have to ‘let you go’.” After all the emotional turmoil these few words induce has eventually subsided, you understand that ‘letting go’ is not to deny, but to accept; accept that the decision’s been made, look forward and hopefully you begin to feel free – but the key to that freedom is realistically looking at the attachments you made to that role, that job, that company, and letting them go, permanently.

As humans we are naturally driven towards establishing relationships; relationships wax and wane as sure as the phases of the moon. Sometimes ending a relationship is really, really tough. And to ‘let go’ of the relationship requires one not to judge, but to allow the other to be a human being, to allow them to affect their destinies, to face reality. Easy to say, not easy to do; it hurts, letting go, but once you do, a great sense of relief floods the body and mind.

I wanted Tom my Labrador to live forever!! He was so lovely, so gorgeous, but as he grew older and older I had to face reality; that life is finite, and in his case I’d have to decide for him that his pain-free, carefree existence was over. Letting go of the negative memories of making that final decision and agonising over whether it was the right one (the “If only …..”!) have allowed me to be thankful for the life that he had and the love that he gave.

We so often dwell in the past, where are memories are stored, and forget to try and live in the present, like in the savasana position in yoga. And there’s a tendency to sometimes regret decisions we’ve made, paths we’ve taken, – “If only I had ….”. Free yourself by ‘letting go’ and not regretting the past, but to grow and live for the future.

In 2012 Celina and I moved to our current apartment, which has little storage space. I knew I had to ‘let go’ of things. In this case not take them to some half-way stage, a self-storage unit, a sort of ‘left luggage’, but to sell them, give them away, take them to the council tip. How hard was it? In reality, not too bad; if I hadn’t used something for 5 years, it went. Furniture that didn’t fit or was wrong for the apartment got sold, given away, painted. Books I had bought but never read, some I had read and were never going to read again, went to the Charity shop. Clothes went to same way. Gradually light and air began to circulate within the enlarged space.

There are few more important guiding principles to the way we approach our lives than taking on board the exhortations of ‘letting go’. As my daily yoga practice encourages me to ‘let go’ of those attachments I’ve made to a past posture and still the mind, outside of the studio those words found on the wall of the faraway café can bring a positive affect to anyone who cares to read them. Above all try to stop being fearful, be “fear less”, learn to truly relax “and love more.”

And if you want other recommendations to engage your brain, read ‘The Tao of Pooh’ by Benjamin Hoff or ‘Who Moved my Cheese’ by Dr Spencer Johnson. The latter story revolves around four characters searching for some cheese in a maze. As the cheese keeps moving, the characters are forced to confront their fears and adapt to change; happiness and success awaits.

Richard 27th December 2024

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

Note 1 Bach doesn’t describe them in any way, just ‘little creatures’. Your imagination will create its own picture ……

PC 418 Hope Christmas News

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Duncan has managed to create a wonderful warm, welcoming place for locals here in The Hope Café in Hove; actually not only for locals, as its reputation draws outsiders to push open the door. Next year he hopes to open a little boutique bookshop next door, so customers can drift between the two, reading, perusing the titles recommended, supported by coffees and delicious Brazilian tarts and pastries. He’d mentioned to his regulars that ‘minced pies and mulled wine’ would be available yesterday afternoon, the latter free as he has no licence to sell alcohol.  

Never one to miss an opportunity for a party, I stopped drafting some future postcard on my laptop, turned off the Christmas decoration lights and walked down to The Hope Café. As I pushed open the door I was met by the sounds of conversation and of clinking glasses, by the warmth of a cosy place and by the vibes of people enjoying themselves; felt good to be part of this community. I wasn’t sure whether all the regulars could be there but, knowing I had promised Mo my attention, had a quick scan of the room and spotted her; being tall has its advantages!

Before I got to Mo, I grabbed a couple of mince pies and asked Libby if she could provide me with a double espresso (Note 1).

“Wow! Mo! So good to see the place so busy. Sorry I had to dash when we last met (See PC 416 Catch Up in The Hope 6th December 2024) but Sami and I had chatted for too long! I needed to go.”

“That’s fine Richard. I wanted to ask you what you make of the recent debate on ‘Assisted Dying’? My mother’s been challenging me to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her, nothing terminal?”

“No! No! But it’s become a major conversation piece in the residential village in Shoreham where she lives.”

“I’m with the majority of the population, that there needs to be a legal way for terminally ill adults to end their lives, subject to ‘safeguards and protections’ etc. Too often we read of individuals going to Dignitas in Switzerland to end their lives and that’s only available to those who can afford it. Thousands of others in the UK end their lives in pain and in a fog of medication. Fortunately Members of Parliament passed the first reading of the ‘Assisted Dying’ Bill by 330 to 275, but it’s got a long way to go, into committee, then the Report Stage which could bring amendments etc, before more votes and being sent to the House of Lords. It’s possible this could all take a couple of years.”  

“Let’s hope neither of us, nor my mother, have to contemplate such action! On a happier note, have you read Robert Harris’ latest book, Precipice?”

Suddenly there’s a lull in the conversation as a couple of chaps walk into the café, Luke followed by Josh. For those of you not familiar with the toings and froings of The Hope Café, last year Josh was a barista behind the counter. Then Hamas attacked Israel on 7th October 2023 and slaughtered 1,195 human beings. Josh, whose great grandparents were Ukrainian Jews, felt the call to arms. Despite suffering minor wounds in a drone attack on his Northern Israel post and his repatriation to the UK, he had gone back some months ago to continue to do what he thought he should. Now he’s back and looks very happy!

Luke clinks a glass with a teaspoon; there’s an immediate hush.

“Josh is back, back for good! He wants me to say he’s happy to chat about his experiences in due course, but this afternoon just wants to savour the strange normality of being here.” Raising his glass he cries: “To Josh.” And everyone joins in ‘To Josh’ then everyone starts talking, the sound like water pouring off a waterfall.  

I look at Mo:

“That’s a relief; Luke’s obviously delighted! The situation in the Middle East has changed so much in the last two weeks that today it’s impossible to guess what may materialise. Israel seems to have neutered both Hamas and Hezbollah, and the fall of that shit Assad in Syria has given a headache, however temporary, to both Russia and Iran. So let’s pray that after so much killing, more level-headed, more pragmatic leaders will emerge.

“Some hope ……!! Look let’s talk about Harris’ book, brilliant by the way, next time. I want to go and catch up with Sami and Lisa who I see over there near the counter. But before I go, did I tell you I have been asked by Duncan whether I would help run the Hope Bookshop next door when it opens – he hopes by Easter.”

“That’s very exciting! By the way Happy Christmas …..”

I see Libby behind the counter, that she’s been joined by her niece Susie; Luke and Josh are sitting on stools chatting to them. Scanning the room I also see Robert with Lisa, and Anna. I go and sit next to her as it’s easier to talk to someone in a wheelchair if you’re both on the same level! Kate, who’s been a temporary barista, has joined us and …….

And so the afternoon slips into the evening, the Christmas lights brighter against the gloom outside, and no one is showing any indication of leaving. Ah! I think Duncan’s going to saying something ……..

Richard 20th December 2024

Hove

www.postcardscribbles.co.uk

PS Pope Francis’ autobiography, out next month, is called ‘Hope’.

PPS Other postcards relating to Christmas are PC 27 ‘Christmas’ from 2014, PC 210 Christmas Lights (2020), PC 262 Christmas Eve Post (2021), PC 314 ‘23rd December – A Story’ (2022) and PC 318 All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth (January 2023) (Ed. Grammatically it should surely have been ‘All I Want for Christmas are my two front teeth’. The lyrics were written in 1940)

Note 1 I used to love well-made mulled wine but today a coffee will be perfect.