Author Archives: johnengland55

A Kind of Wisdom

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I saw a sandwich board on the pavement (sidewalk, this is America, sorry!) outside a Nashville bar earlier today. At the end of the invitation to step inside and enjoy their cold beer was the exhortation “You can’t lower heaven but come raise hell!”

I’d never heard the saying before and it may or not be original thought but it certainly brought a smile to my face.

It was early afternoon, I was working and so I walked past. Way back in the 1970s and 80s, working or not, it would have been difficult to ignore.

Maybe that’s what age and experience does for you! Good job really.

Rewriting History

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I recently read an article in the Independent newspaper on the subject of the battle of Waterloo and the forthcoming celebrations to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the British and Allied victory of June 18th, 1815. The writer said that the victory was of little importance, argued that the British (and particularly the English) played a small part and went on to say that the winning general was Irish.

It is of course fashionable, particularly among the country’s liberal elite, to question Britain’s achievements and wherever possible to belittle them and even to rewrite history, so it’s worth looking at those statements.

Waterloo, as Wellington himself said, was a “near run thing” and if Napoleon had won who knows what might have happened?  The whole of Europe was ranged against Napoleon, and his plan, born of necessity,  was for a quick victory in Belgium over Wellington’s British Allied army and Blucher’s Prussians before turning east to face the armies of Russia and Austria.

He almost succeeded and the fact that he didn’t was down primarily, in the opinion of most military historians, to the abilities of Wellington, the quality of the 20,000 British troops and 6,000 troops of the King’s German Legion under his command (totalling less than one third of his forces) plus the eventual late arrival on the field of battle of Blucher’s Prussians.

If  Napoleon had won the battle who is to say what the effect would have been on the morale of the Austrians and Russians? Would they have fancied their chances against his undoubted military genius? Might they instead have sued for peace? What would have happened to Europe? Who knows? It is, of course, mere conjecture

As for Wellington’s nationality, he was of Anglo-Irish protestant stock, born in Dublin and educated at Eton. He regarded himself as English and when referred to as Irish, due to his place of birth, he is alleged to have replied “If I had been born in a stable would that make me a horse?”

None of that is to derogate the Irish who contributed mightily to the history of this country and her former empire but it would be nice if certain modern commentators could at least give the English some credit.

NOTE: On the anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar I half expect some revisionist to declare that Nelson wasn’t English either – actually, when you think about it Horati O’Nelson does sound a little suspicious!

Boris the Brit

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In an interview with the BBC earlier this week Boris Becker, tennis star of the 1980s and early 1990s, stated that he would, one day, like to become a British citizen. Becker spends a lot of time in the UK and has had a home in Wimbledon for approximately 30 years so I suppose it would be a logical step.

Becker, a German, has always been very popular in this country, not least because of his incredible skill, determination and winning mentality, attributes that you would certainly not associate with English tennis players! The fact that he won Wimbledon three times (the first as an unknown 17 year old) guaranteed him a special place in English hearts.

As a pundit and commentator for BBC Sport he has shown himself to be dry, witty, intelligent and self-effacing and his personal life has never been anything other than entertaining!

I, for one, would fast track any application for citizenship not least because he has a young son who may well turn out to have his father’s tennis skills! How else are we going to find an English champion of Wimbledon?

Welcome to the fold Boris!

Two Sides of the Beautiful Game

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Two sides of football were revealed over the last few days.

The bad side, I’m afraid, was no surprise and the release, over the weekend, of the findings of the US-led investigation into the sport’s ruling body, Fifa, merely confirmed what anybody involved or with an interest in football must have known or suspected for years.

Any doubt about Fifa’s depravity and corruption was surely removed when the football-poor but astronomically rich Middle Eastern state of Qatar was awarded the right to host the 2022 world cup.

At the highest echelons the game is as putrid as a festering sore and the revelation that millions of pounds, destined for promoting the game in the world’s poorer areas, was channelled into the private bank accounts of top officials is sickening. We can only hope that those found guilty receive the punishments their repugnant behaviour merits.

The good side was highlighted by a story from Sunderland Football Club. A couple of months ago the club were in serious danger of relegation from the top flight of English football and the board of directors took the gamble of appointing 67 year old Dutchman Dick Advocaat, a man with no experience of the English game. His brief was simple, win as many of the remaining few games as possible and keep the club in the Premier League and we will pay you a nice bonus.

He duly delivered, the club stayed up and the board asked him to stay on and manage full time. Mr Advocaat declined saying his intention was always to retire this year and spend some time with his wife and family. However, after much pleading and petitioning by club officials and fans, he changed his mind and signed a one year contract.

The fans were delighted and some of them started an online appeal to raise money for a large bouquet of flowers to be sent to the new manager’s wife. Within a very short space of time the appeal reached over £2000 (that’s an awful lot of flowers!) so the organisers decided that £150 would be spent on the bouquet for Mrs Advocaat and the rest would go to charity.

There’s still some life in “The Beautiful Game”.

Learning from the Past

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The other day, I was relaxing and listening to some music by one of my favourite artists, Sting. One of the songs was called “History will teach us nothing” which I have always found to be an interesting title, open to more than one interpretation.

In the sense that he meant (and I’m sure he did) that future generations of human beings should not copy the behaviour of their forbears and repeat some of the dreadful mistakes made by them who could possibly disagree? However, it would be wrong to think that we can learn nothing from history per se.

History is actually the best teacher of all since we can learn a great deal from not only our own experiences but also, of course, from the experiences of others. Any responsible parent will tell you that. Don’t touch that hot pan, it will burn you.

We can always learn from others and we can undoubtedly learn from history. This occurred to me a couple of days ago when, in the company of a group of Germans and French, I thought back to what we would have been doing to one another a hundred years ago, and again just thirty years later.

We can learn, thank God, but we need to remember the words of philosopher, George Santayana, who said “Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it”.

Clever Dick

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I was in Nashville recently and, during the course of my visit to a local bar, had the need to visit the establishment’s facilities. So there I was stood at the urinal, gazing, as one does, at the advertisements directly in front when one immediately caught my eye. Two words in large bold print followed by some narrative. Those words were “Dick Strong” and my laughter almost caused me, momentarily, to lose my aim, though thankfully not!

Intrigued, I read the advertisement, not knowing what to expect, although I thought perhaps it may have been an ad for one of those little blue pills or something similar. Anyway, it was nothing of the sort and, in fact, was an advert by a lawyer called Richard Strong who specialises in criminal law and in particular, the representation of those arrested for DUI (driving under the influence of alcohol).

I thought, what a smart guy. One for placing an advertisement in a place where those most likely to break that particular law are most likely to frequent and secondly in cleverly utilising his name. I googled (that’s officially a word now apparently) his website and read all about the man and his practice.

On the website he explained how, to promote his practice, he wanted to make the most of a name that during his youth, in particular, had been a predictable (no pun intended) source of much mirth and joking amongst his peers.

Well, it worked, Dick, and whilst I have no idea how good a lawyer you are, I sincerely hope that you have earned the reputation and riches that your imagination and wit truly deserve!

A Celebration

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It was my birthday yesterday. I was sixty. So what, you may say and I agree, so what? Why do we make such a fuss of birthdays, particularly as we advance well beyond childhood and adolescence?

Twenty one is a big one, of course, representing as it does the notional passage from youth to adulthood. Thirty is big too and I guess so too forty and fifty but beyond that? No, after your fifties end the overriding feeling is often one of relief because by that time we have lost plenty of friends and, in some cases family members who never made it that far.

Sixty is worthy of a celebration. Of course it is, but not to the same extent as the other so-called milestones. As many folk are fond of saying, age is nothing more than a number, you are as old as you feel and all the other age-related cliches.

Well, I feel great thank you very much and I just want to appreciate life for what it is. Like the vast majority of those of us who live in the UK and the western world I am very lucky. By and large we don’t have it too bad, we live in a democracy, we are able to keep what we earn to a large extent and we can generally walk in safety down the streets of our towns and cities without interference. That will do for me.

So my view on celebration? Every day is a celebration and for as long as we have health and happiness and the health, happiness and love of those who we in turn love, what could be worth a greater celebration than that?

The Little Boats

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Tomorrow, sees the 75th anniversary of the  decision to evacuate the British army from the beaches of Dunkirk following its retreat from an advancing German army that had hitherto conquered all before it.

On May 27th, 1940 the evacuation, codenamed Operation Dynamo, began and lasted until June 4th when over 300,000 British soldiers, along with several thousand of their French counterparts, were transported across the English Channel to safety.

Although they had to leave the vast majority of their weapons  behind them, the successful evacuation, by the Royal Navy and hundreds of small civilian boats, captured the imagination of the British public and proved an immeasurable boost to morale in what were undoubtedly Britain’s darkest days.

Of course, the respite was temporary and many major battles lay ahead, not least the Battle of Britain, just weeks later, when the RAF defied the might of the German Luftwaffe and safeguarded the British Isles from the grim fate that befell the rest of Europe. Dunkirk may well have been a retreat and a defeat but it felt like a victory.

Those little boats will live forever in the memory of this nation not least for the hope that they gave to a people who, prior to that successful evacuation, must have almost forgotten what the word meant.

Changes at the Beeb?

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There has been much speculation recently over whether or not the BBC should continue to charge a licence fee, currently standing at £145.50 for a year’s viewing. There is talk that the Corporation can instead make its income by selling a package similar to Sky TV or by even showing advertisements though the 1922 founding fathers would turn over in their graves at the thought of such heresy.

Other television companies seem to get along alright relying on advertisement revenue so why should the BBC be any different? Some will complain that one of the great attractions of the BBC is that there are no commercial breaks during its programming but does it really matter that much?

May be it’s a sign of age but I quite enjoy ITV’s commercial breaks giving me the opportunity, as they do, to make myself a drink of coffee or nip out to the little boys’ room!

On balance, perhaps people would prefer to save themselves the £145.50 and put up with the commercial breaks as long as there is no loss of quality in the programmes. And as for revenue well, commercial organisations are prepared to pay top dollar for adverts at peak viewing times so that shouldn’t be a problem. From the Government’s point of view, all that revenue is going to mean some hefty tax bills so it seems a winner all round.

Blues Boy

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Sad news, at the end of last week, that BB King, one of the greatest Blues guitarists of all time (many would say the greatest) had died at the venerable age of 89.

His life reads like a classic tale of the Blues, born into poverty in rural Mississippi in 1925 and, at the age of 21, leaving home to seek fortune and fame, like many before him, on the streets of Memphis, Tennessee.

Like other black musicians he had to endure racial prejudice and segregation which for many years meant a denial of access to the whites-only theatres and concert venues which would have allowed him to develop even faster than he did. He once said that “Playing the Blues is like having to be black twice” and it wasn’t until the “British invasion” of music in the 1960s that his career really took off without restriction.

He was born Riley B. King but, once in Memphis, he earned the musical moniker “The Beale Street Blues Boy” (after the street where he played as a busker) and then just plain old BB (Blues Boy) King.

It is my good fortune to be in Memphis at the moment and I will most certainly visit the bar on Beale Street that bears his name and will there raise a glass to the memory of a true giant of the music world.