Spending January in the Night Garden

Oh dear. A whole month has passed and I have not posted to my blog.

I suppose I could say this is winter and spring will yet come. That is at least seasonally true and I hope creatively too.

Where there was once time to think and write there is now more to do at work and much more to do at home- mainly a little boy who needs entertaining (his Mother would say she does most of the rest !).

Anyway I thought I would give a flavour of my life at present and at least note that I am still alive and well this January evening.

Where I would have once watched serious programmes like Newsnight and Panorama, my television watching is more varied now. The same could be said for my reading but I cannot show that here.

Below is a clip from "In the Night Garden", which has become regular viewing in our household this January :





Hopefully, back soon with some other thoughts from London.....

Christmas Past

Christmas has been and gone, New Year is here and the sales are even in their latter half.

Today there was a sense that those commuting to work were taking part in a forced march. No one seemed to want to me there, the walk spoke of both resentment and disappointment that the Christmas period had ended so quickly.

I overheard two young women on the train discussing a former friend who they had fallen out with. The former friend had had the cheek to remove their "friend" status in Facebook. In 2008 this was the worst thing a friend could possibly do and they attacked her with relish.

A cold wind is blowing accross London and snow is forecast. Christmas has gone but there may still be a long winter to come.

Happy New Year everyone !

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to all that have read this blog this year.

Posts have been somewhat light of late as the demands of work and a new baby son take their toll on "writing for pleasure" time.

Today was no exception as after being at work this morning I was in my local supermarket as it closed for Christmas. There is always a seige mentality around Christmas which is really strange as many of the shops will be open in less than 36 hours on Boxing Day morning with the remainder open a day later.

Nonetheless there is at least one day that remains free from commercial activity and I guess that has to be welcome. That day is tomorrow- Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas everyone......

Go back to your zombies and prepare for management

This year, with the retirement of a long established colleague I have taken on new responsibilities and I now have a team of people who I manage.

With this in mind, my boss thought I would benefit from attending a two day management of course. I've been on similar before but I suppose it can never hurt to have some new ideas and reminders of how to deal with certain situations.

The course was taken by a charming lady from Fulham. At the risk of offending many people, my office has a lot of people from Essex and a lot of people from south London (myself included). In short I don't often hear the English language spoken as well as it is spoken by some residents of Fulham. But I guess accents is a very risky topic, especially in Britain, so I shall move swiftly on !

The course was not rocket science. In fact it was not any sort of science but a mixture of common sense on how to deal with difficult people in difficult situations as well as various management and psychological theories on what motivates people and how to get the best out of them etc etc.

One session that caught my imagination was a crude classification of all people according to their energy or action and their attitude or enthusiasm.

Those with high action and a good attitude were obviously the best from a management perspective and were called "stars". The high action but negative attitude were "cynics" albeit quite productive ones. Those of positive attitude but little action were either "passengers" or "tourists" while the worst were those of little action and a bad attitude. The last group were termed "zombies" or "the undead".

This was supposed to be a serious management course but predictably this bit wasn't taken too seriously. We were divided up into teams to talk about how we would deal with the different employee types.

I was put in a group that was charged with thinking about "zombies". We found this quite difficult as apart from sacking them which would probably happen in more hard hearted organisations, one would have to analysise their entire personality and try and appeal to something that made them tick to achieve any progress.

We then had to present our thoughts. Our zombie group started.

"Now do any you manage people who might be zombies ?" asked the charming lady from Fulham. I must admit that my hand wavered but I thought "No the worst I have must have are tourists, positive but of little output" (I should also note that I do have star (s)".

A colleague from IT had no such qualms. Up went his hand. "I've probably got two" he said. His total team is eight strong so that makes a 25% strong zombie contingent !

The course went on over 2 days with role plays, discussions and coffee breaks.

At the end we were all wished well. I guess in at least one case this really did amount to "Go back to your zombies and prepare for management"

I will be giving my team a bit more thought next week !!!

Still slightly Hongkers

After a couple of days back from Hong Kong, my wife told me something that needed saying. I was getting (just a little) boring the way I began each sentence "In Hong Kong they......".

I credit myself with at least a few sensitivities and I know there are few things more tedious than someone who returns from holiday (or other trip) only to bore everyone to tears with details of a place that the other party has not been to. Some of course have a great curiosity about all places and want to go there themselves. However for the majority of people a few photos and and a handful of summarised highlights are probably all they want to hear about a trip particularly if they themselves have been stuck at home working hard.

It is sign of how commonplace long haul travel has become that few want to hear in great detail another account of travels to X, wherever X may be. Another response to too many travel tales is "place bingo" or "snap" where people seem to work through lists of places, the object apparently being to work out who has been to most.


So I did sympathise with my wife, when I realised that I was talking perhaps a little too much about my business trip to Hong Kong. She had been at home looking after our 5 month old son.

However, on my second trip to Hong Kong, I was struck more than ever what a little paradise it can be for a small minority of English people.

Put simply it is a modern metropolis built on a tropical island. In December in comparison to London its climate is mild and pleasant.

People seem to behave in Hong Kong. There is little sign of graffiti, of litter and of people wanting to interfere with you as you go about your own business. You can ride the metro (MTR) late and night and you are more likely to see a young family returning home than the drunken businessmen you see on the London tube at a similar hour.

The people of Hong Kong are, in the main, extremely friendly. English is almost universally understood to some extent. For a foreigner doing a middle ranking kind of job, life is very comfortable. Technology is generally state of art and most things cheaper than home. Hong Kong is a city where the pick up fee for a taxi is under £1. For those wanting to exit the metropolis, the green Victoria Peak or nearby islands on a short ferry ride are obvious options.

Best still, for visiting Brits they drive on the left and use exactly the same electrical plugs as we do back home !

In short Hong Kong is a city that seems to work with a warm climate (although I am assured this is too warm in summer) and friendly hard working people. It compares very favourably to winter London with its delays, struggles to work and general hassle if you stay out late.

Of course, I do realise it is possible to take the rose tinted spectacles off in Hong Kong and see a few realities. The climate is so favourable in December but in summer the tropical heat combining with epic levels of pollution from China's Pearl Delta industrial area make the air extremely unhealthly. I was told that people with children even move them out of the City in the summer.

The cheap prices are nice but this is largely achieved through an army of low paid workers from the Philippines. Many middle class Hong Kong chinese have Philipino domestic helpers often paid around £250 a month to live in and cook, clean and iron or baby sit. It is better work than that available in the Philippines but I cannot see that happening in London.

People are well behaved but democracy is at best fragile in Hong Kong. It is an experiment tolerated by the Chinese Government but is obviously subject to certain limits.

That said, most people seem genuinely happy in Hong Kong. They work hard but enjoy life.

Maybe for that, the absence of the Dimbleby's on Question Time is a price worth paying ?!

Many expats who go to Hong Kong really love it and some never return home. One expat I spoke to on my visit summed it up like this "I like London and will always go back there to see my family and friends. But I really like the buzz, the food and the climate in this place. I'm not ready to trade in Hongkers just yet".

I've been back in London reality a week now but I think a part of me is still slightly Hongkers.....

Back from a rather English piece of China

Posts have been very light on here of late. This is at least in part due to the fact that I have been working in Hong Kong for a short while.

I want to write something on this shortly but for now here are a couple of mobile phone taken pictures that I hope say something about Hong Kong both at night and in the day time.

Hong Kong, despite being part of China albeit with "Special Administrative Region" status, still feels very homely to the English visitor.

I seem to have escaped the worst of any jet lag and in the wonder that is air travel I managed to sleep from above the Chinese-Mongolian border to just above Moscow on the way home.

Hope to be back with a longer post soon.



A fleet of Hong Kong's very economical red taxis approach the Wan Kwai Fong area in the evening.



View of "everyday" Hong Kong skycraper appartments in the "Mid Levels"

London November 2007

Various views of the City and Docklands taken from Greenwich Park on a cold but clear November Day.

Remembrance Sunday

Here is a reminder, in case one were needed, from youtube of the contemporary aspect to today's Remembrance Sunday. The photos are all of British Servicemen who have died in Afghanistan, although sadly this is not a complete list.

Greed is good ?

A random observation from shopping in our local Asda today:

1 bottle of 1.25 litre Coca Cola £1.10

2 bottles of 1.25 litre Coca Cola £1 (2 for £1 offer).

So it actually cheaper to buy 2 bottles than 1 bottle. If you only want one bottle you are financially better off if you take 2 through the till and throw the other away.

These prices seem a little strange to me. Is this what they mean by an "Asda price". They are still playing that annoying jingle all the time anyway.

"Get him!"- Training Tips for Rail Ticket Inspectors- What not to say !

I am coming to the depressing conclusion that rules (e.g. buying a ticket) on our railways are only for polite and non-threatening people.

The other morning I missed my usual direct train to London Cannon Street and needed to change trains at London Bridge.

London Bridge Station is never a very relaxing place and at 8 o' clock in the morning is bordering on madness with people running from Charing Cross bound trains to get on Cannon Street trains and people from Cannon Street trains running the other way. The management of London Bridge station sometime concluded that it was not possible to get these trains arriving on immediately opposite platforms, meaning everyone has to get up a crowded flight of stairs and then down an equally crowded flight of stairs to the waiting train two or three platforms away. Sometimes they like to keep people fit by advertising a train that has already left so that when you get down onto that platform you find no train and have to go to yet another platform- back up the same flight of stairs and back down a third. The effect can look like some strange version of musical chairs with large groups of commuters running up flights of stairs in formation.

Despite the fact that most South Eastern stations have ticket barriers meaning it is not possible to get onto the train unless you have a ticket (or jump the barrier), the other morning South Eastern ticket inspectors decided to introduce a random ticket inspection at the top of one of the previously mentioned flights of stairs.

If this wasn't awkward enough, they didn't stand logically at either side of the stairs but staggered at various points around the corridor that connects all the platforms. With at least half the passengers wearing Ipods or other headphones and everyone else in a hurry it wasn't clear that this was a ticket inspection point at all.

Most people were hurrying straight through. I myself had headphones (listening to the news as it happened) so carried on oblivious until I vaguely heard someone call "Get him". The next thing I knew was that a ticket inspector appeared beside me while all the other passengers carried on regardless.

I had my ticket so there was no issue but I was a little bemused why I was the only one stopped. I don't consider I look threatening and am wondering if that was the reason why I was singled out.

My brother tells me of a time he was on a South Eastern train when a three strong group of baseball cap wearing youths evaded the ticket collector by hiding in the train lavatory. The ticket collector knocked timidly only to conclude to other passengers "I think that one's a loosing battle."

The depressing moral of the story is you only need a ticket if the ticket collector isn't afraid of you.

As for my friends at London Bridge next time you want to check for tickets at some random spot at 8am:

1) Stand together at a clear point at which you expect all passengers to show their tickets and don't let anyone through.

2) While I understand that in the absence of appropriate equipment e.g. Tasers, it may not be desirable to press all passengers for a ticket, do not shout phrases such as "Get him" at law abiding non-threatening passengers. To do so is mildly offensive and likely to alienate normally allied passengers in the battle against the hooligan minority found on London trains !

British Gas Homecare- "probably the worst service in the world"

It has been one week, 9 phonecalls, 5 emails and 1 formal letter of complaint and still British Gas have not been able to repair our boiler. This is despite the fact I have a "Homecare" policy with British Gas to cover all boiler and heating breakdowns.

This followed a surprisingly promising start with 2 engineers coming out on the day the boiler broke down. However they misdiagnosed the problem, ordered the wrong part and when the next engineer couldn't repair the problem with the incorrect part.

A new part, a fan, was ordered to be delivered the next day (Tuesday by now) from the British Gas Parts Distribution Centre in Leicester.

The next day came and no engineer appeared and no phone call was received. When I called to see what the problem was I was told the part had not been arrived.

However I was assured someone from the Parts Distribution Centre would call me soon. They never called me and despite a series of increasingly irrate calls to British Gas no part materialised.

I asked to speak to the mythical folk in Leicester myself but was told even the British Gas call centre didn't have their number. One call centre worker helpfully proclaimed "It's out of our hands". There didn't seem much that was in their hands !

The Parts Distribution Centre is outsourced. As it turns out, to a Swedish Company called Syncron .

I can only conclude Syncron are partly to blame here but British Gas must take responsibility for choosing this bunch of incompetents to manage the distribution of their parts.

On the Syncron website Jan Paulsson, Project leader at Volvo, another Syncron client, is quoted as saying "The result looks too good to be true."


There's one reason for that Mr. Paulsson, the results are too good to be true ! In fact after managing in our "low carbon house" without hot water for a week (unless its out of a kettle) I would think the results are pretty awful.

Still, we keep hammering away at British Gas and maybe the boiler will be repaired this coming week. For any potential British Gas Homecare customers who have stumbled across this "moan", my only advise would be think twice before you sign up to Homecare. The recovery of your boiler may depend on some not very competent Swedes based in Leicester !

Clear November Morning in London

The final stage of my daily commute from the South, crossing the river and arriving in the City- London Cannon Street Station.

Bank

Short clip showing the view from next to Bank Tube Station, outside the Royal Exchange and opposite the Bank of England while waiting there one October evening.

Guy Fawkes

It is over 400 years since Guy Fawkes was apprehended in his attempt to blow up parliament.

This criminal and his associates suffered torture that would make today's "extraordinary rendition" look like a picnic. Guy Fawkes himself jumped and broke his neck to avoid the official execution method of being hung, drawn and quartered.

Despite this slightly unsavoury origin every supermarket and cornershop is packed with fireworks for at least a month before November 5th to allow every one to celebrate Guy's demise. The run up to November 5th turns suburbia into a near Blitz re-enactment. Every scout group, schoool and even church need to hold their own "bonfire night" not to mention the local council. Bonfires are largely a thing of the past in London but fireworks exist in huge quantities.

Combined with official events, scores and scores of private houses choose to buy their own fireworks.

So tonight suburban London, on the weekend before November 5th, sounds like a war zone. Try keeping a 4 month baby asleep in that. Thanks a bunch, Guy Fawkes !

Living in a "low carbon" house

Our boiler failed yesterday morning. It's an old boiler and will probably need replacing soon.

We have British Gas cover and in this instance they were very good sending someone within an hour for an initial inspection in case there was any danger from gas or carbon monoxide.

Once given the all clear on that front another engineer visited in the afternoon. Not bad for a Saturday and much preferable to previous experiences of hunting for the small band of honest reliable boiler engineers on the open market.

Nonetheless the boiler in clinicial terms needs major surgery- a new gas valve to be precise. With a four month old baby we have been given "priority" but even that means Monday.

So with our "combination" boiler out of action we have missed a combination of hot water and heating. Fortunately it is a very mild November so far and a couple of electric heaters are more than adequate to keep young Luis warm. Kettles of hot water have been more than sufficient for general washing and I even attempted a completely cold shower this morning. I read somewhere that is supposed to be good for you. It certainly woke me up.

Overall my impression is that managing without hot water and central heating is not nearly as traumatic as some might imagine. In actual fact I find central heating a bit suffocating sometimes so it is refreshing to be able to decide which room to heat and which to leave cold.

I think I could live like this although I'm not sure about the rest of the Donatella household ! Anyway, without referring to the wider global warming debate, I think this could be viewed as a genuine way of saving energy. We've used viritually no gas all weekend and are still here and well ! With oil prices approaching $100 a barrel, maybe living without central heating will start to catch on ?! I suspect I am probably a minority voice here !

Dancing on the trains ?

A letter to the almost invariably low brow (but I read it !) Thelondonpaper caught my eye on Friday.

The writer proposed a solution to the curse on trains of people playing their Ipod too loud. The writer suggested fellow passengers should hold an impromptu dancing session to try and embarrass or shame the offender into turning the volume down.

It may not work in all cases and the option of asking for the volume to be turned down remains !However on the many cases where the train is too crowded to ask the owner of the blarring Ipod to do anything, and with passengers generally reluctant to request too much from each other, dancing to the music of a loud Ipod could work and bring unwanted attention to a selfish music listener.

Rat Race ?

The "rat race" should probably renamed going on how long it takes to get out of London Bridge station these days. Here is an example of the queue just to get off the platform one morning this month.

Although, at least it seems very orderly. No one is in too much of a rush to make it to the office just yet !

Secrets and Lies

Post Secret is a very well known site that consists entirely of "secrets" mailed anonymously from all over the world although being US based has an inevitable US weighting.

The secrets range from the bizarre to the tragic, from the horrific to the trivial and come from all types of people in all types of situation.

It seems to be a form of 21st Century confessional at least as far as those sending in secrets generally seem to feel some sort of release from sharing their secret.

There is undoubtedly a voyeuristic element to reading other people's secrets but as they are from unknown people it seems relatively harmless. The appeal of the site comes from the sharing of secrets and realising that a secret is actually not so unique but often a similar issue to one shared by many others.

The above postcard struck my eye as one that summed up the general status of "celebrities" in these times. While many may shrug their shoulders and say "not me" to the idea of being much concerned with the lives and fates of hollywood stars or soap opera actors, I suspect when expanded to its widest definition to include sports stars, tv hosts and even politicians, many more of us are to some extent "guilty" of this secret. Celebrity in its widest definition seems more interesting and more exciting than some of those in our own families. The fact that the cult of celebrity is essentially one lie and this interest will never be reciprocated goes overlooked. This is sad as it is times of trouble that only relatives can and will help.

Thank you to the poster of this secret for reminding us of one of the big lies in everyday life- the lie that celebrities matter and count for anything much.

A miracle in the eye of the beholder

Magda is in charge of the café in the office where I work. The café serves a rather uninspiring collection of sandwiches, salads, crisps and soft drinks. This is not the fault of Magda but the outsourced catering company who employ Magda. Magda is always pressing for improvements. One "victory" was the introduction of jacket potatoes! Ludicrous fire regulations prevent even toast being made in our office but Magda somehow gets around the regulations and has a virtual black market in things like bacon and sausage around breakfast time. Magda knows what the customer wants even if her employers don't.

Despite being in the centre of London with sandwich shops and cafes all around, the office café is always packed at lunch. I think in no small part, the loyalty to the humble office café is due to the attitude of Magda to her customers.Magda greets each customer and gets to know everyone's name despite the relatively high turnover of people in the office. Magda has made herself everyone's favourite Auntie in the office. She shares in the delights of life like births, engagements and weddings. She is also a counsellor especially to the "girls" in the office who are periodically whisked into her office next to the café to discuss some crisis or other.

Magda is both sensitive and outgoing knowing which customer can take a joke and which customer just wants a quiet word.

For all her cheerfulness, Magda over 18 months of selling sandwiches to me has revealed a life story that on many levels seems tragic.

I don't know the full details but she shares fragments with me and others in quiet moments when the café is empty.

Magda was born in Poland but somehow came to England during the Cold War. She married quite a successful Englishman and they had one daughter. Magda lived the life of a comfortable London housewife and mother, taking her daughter to school and in addition to keeping house and home didn't need to work so spent time visiting art galleries and exhibitions with her circle of friends.Then her young daughter became sick. A form of leukaemia was diagnosed and British hospitals seemed unable to offer any real hope. There were options but they were in America . Magda and her husband made the difficult but inevitable decision to remortgage their house to pay for the travel and treatment in America . The treatment was received but ultimately failed. Magda's only child died the tragic death of the young.

Subsequently and in circumstances Magda has not revealed, her husband died. Magda was widowed and alone in London with a huge mortgage on her house. In circumstances that would have crushed many Magda got on with life although that simple line cannot do justice to all the trials and issues she must have faced.

Magda the kept lady of leisure, now widowed and childless had to work. She ended up working for the office café and is still paying off her mortgage.

Now in her late forties, Magda has a remarkable love of life and love of humanity in general. However her life cannot be easy. Her employers, the outsourced catering company are far from generous employers and at times such as the recent underground strikes, Magda was forced to get up at 4am to take an elaborate route of buses into work to be around to have the café ready for the start of the day. There was no taxi offered by her employer to beat the strike. As on other occasions Magda perseveres where others would give up.

Magda's finances seem precarious. She earns £8.50 an hour which does not go a long way in London especially when still paying off a big mortgage. Other than that she has to return to Poland periodically to visit her aging Mother.

Then recently an old stray cat entered Magda's garden in West London . The cat obviously had some instinct as I doubt it would have got such a generous welcome in many other gardens.
The flea bitten cat was cared for, fed and revived by Magda. Then it managed to loose and swallow a tooth resulting in vet bills of over £400, money Magda could ill afford in reality. Magda keeps a £500 emergency fund for trips to Poland if she needs to see her Mother. This was largely exhausted by the stray cat.

However while according to conventional wisdom Magda was financially unwise, Magda's life has taught her that the loss of wealth is far less painful than the loss of life so she saved the cat.

Despite, or perhaps because of, her experiences Magda is a strong Roman Catholic and her faith is the one thing that keeps her strong.

The Firm has recently introduced awards for exceptional service and despite working officially for another company, Magda was nominated and then given an award. In the context of a 200 partner firm where many partners often earn over £1 million a year the monthly award at £500 was not particularly significant. However to Magda, saviour of stray cats and friend to all while earning £8.50 an hour, the award was a major issue.Magda was delighted and declared loudly "It's a miracle". Her finances, for now at least, are liquid once more.

I was just struck by the positive outlook of one who has lost the two people closest to her in being able to declare a miracle over £500. Miracles are not much recognised these days but as Magda proves there are miracles each day and sometimes they do not seem significant to others. For a partner in the firm I work, £1 million may not even be a miracle. But in comparison to infinity a million pounds is also insignificant. Money like so many things, depends on the meaning we give it and the purpose we put it to. I think Magda will give her £500 more purpose than many others would. Miracles are in the eye of the beholder.

Facing the gun

My colleague, who I will call Brenda, is really the salt of the earth. A high flyer, no, but a sincere person, yes. She does not pretend to anyone she loves her job but she does like people and above all she cares for and loves her daughter.

Brenda rings her daughter each day around 4pm to check on her progress home from school. Her daughter is 13 and Brenda is finding need to raise her voice a bit more to get her home these days. She doesn't want her daughter hanging around in the local shopping centre or with "unsuitable" boys in general.

Last Friday Brenda's daughter wasn't at school. The teachers were having a training day and Brenda's daughter was at home. In actual fact Brenda had arranged for a friend to be around and keep an eye on the girl. Another friend's son was also around.

Then in the middle of the day, Brenda took a call and her voice was raised to an unprecendented level during my time in the office.

"I don't care. You get home immediately" she cried through gritted teeth down the phone. She had gone from mild mannered lady to a cauldron of anger and fear at the flick of a switch. It was Brenda's business but I was guessing her daughter was really getting hard work !

However, the real problem Brenda revealled later was her friend's son had had a gun put to his head while walking through the park with a friend. Two youths had demanded his mobile phone. He handed it over without a murmur. The other boy had no phone and was beaten in the face as "punishment".

The youths with the gun scarpered and a short while later the police arrived. Brenda's daughter had not been there but she came out to the park and was there when she called her mother. Hence the fear and anger combined.

Brenda does not live in the nicest bit of London but equally not the worst by a long way. The boy who had a gun put to his head was visiting from nearby Dartford in Kent.

Brenda was angry and upset that her beloved daughter was so close to such goings on. She could have all to easily been with the two boys when they were attacked.

This is the closest that the recent spate of gun crime has reached people I know so far. I generally assume that media coverage can overstate the risks. Yes there have been a few dreadful killings of young people but in a country of 60 million these things need to be kept in perspective. Yet I am starting to realise the killings are only the visible tip of a much larger iceberg of intimidation and fear in this country.

The received wisdom now is that one should never fight back in any robbery or mugging situation. My colleagues, grown men and Fathers, say they would never go out and confront a youth damaging a car or neighbour's fence. The stock response is either ignore it or call the police.

Likewise horrific stories sometimes emerge in the media of people being attacked on buses and trains while fellow passengers ignore the incident as they are too afraid to help.

I would see two types of situation in this area.

Firstly, where it is unjustifiably risky to fight back. In this category a gun against the head for a mobile phone is a straightforward calculation. While Britain has some of the most restrictive gun laws in the world and many guns are fakes, many others are not. The value of any phone does not justify risking getting shot. So anyone is right to hand over their phone in such a situation.

The second situation is where intervention or "fighting back" is a real option and I believe as a country the law abiding majority are getting too collectively cowardly for their own good.

If someone is punched and kicked by a lone thug on a crowded train then surely we need to learn as a society to club together and tackle the thug ? That is not exceptional bravery, it is a calculated risk in challenging aggression and doing what is right.

The risk is, if we move ever more to never challenging criminals that they will get ever more brazen and more of us will be victims.

Criminals are rarely good marksmen and rarely skilled fighters. Their sole competive advantage is a willingness to resort to intimidation and crude violence against the general population who are too fearful to engage them.

The law abiding majority need to raise their game, take self defence classes, martial arts classes and similar if need be. While we don't need to take silly risks we do need to sometime draw a line and learn to intelligently fight back.

Otherwise 13 year old boys getting guns put to their head in a park on a Friday afternoon may get a lot more common than it is now.

On another continent and a very different culture, over 100 volunteers were murdered in Pakistan this week, as they protected Benazir Bhutto from a predicted attack. By forming a human shield they prevented the suicide bombers getting close enough to kill Benazir Bhutto. She owes her life to hundreds and thousands who volunteered to protect her vehicle while having a pretty good idea of the risks. That sacrifice is awe inspiring and one that few of us in comfortable countries such as Britain can really imagine doing. However the principle of being prepared to stand up to violence and intimidation is ultimately the same.

Sometimes the price of challenging aggression can be high but the alternative of always protecting our own safety and lives will ironically end up in an existence that could not be seen as living at all. For two thirteen year olds to walk in the park should not be a dangerous thing to do but increasing numbers are finding that in a nation intimidated by a minority of unchallenged criminals many ordinary activities in ordinary places are getting very dangerous.