where's the crane ?
'Where's the crane then ?'
We had just embarked on our summer vacation to sunny Marbella (near Spain) and were sitting on the shuttle bus taking us and our suitcases from long stay parking to the North terminal at Gatwick airport.
'Sorry what did you say ?'
'The crane that gets the cars - where is it ?'
As I pondered what on earth my intelligent teenage son was on about, I sensed other passengers on the bus pricking up their ears in interest. The bus was now deathly quiet, in a very British way, as the small audience attentively and patiently waited for the next exciting exchange in this bizarre conversation.
'Sorry, son but what on earth are you talking about ?'
'Well - we came to one of these massive car parks at this airport a few years ago when we went to Florida...'
'Yes - I remember. It's because it's cheaper than getting a taxi and more convenient than catching the train.'
'Yes. Well back then I looked at the massive car park area packed with loads of parked cars. Row after row of parked cars, all tightly crammed in, and I asked you 'How do they get the cars out when people return from their holiday ?'
I listened intently together with the other thirteen people on the 'Summer Special' shuttle bus and sensed the driver was also now captivated.
'And you (nods in my direction) told me that a massive crane swung round to the correct row, dropped down to the exact postion, lifted up the car, rotated back round and slowly lowered the car precisely into position on the exit lane.'
I made a spluttering noise as I tried to stifle my laughter. 'Sorry. I said what ? No, no - I never said that.'
Norma Jeane now piped up 'Oh yeah - I remember now. You did say that.'
People looked away. I could see them thinking 'Oh - look at that tall, handsome teenage boy. He looks perfectly normal but he actually attends Special School and now his selfless parents are taking him away for a lovely holiday.'
'So - where's the crane then ?'
'Norman Junior - listen. I might have said that as a joke when you were 6 years old but the cars are parked in lanes according to the date and times when people are scheduled to arrive back at the airport. For example, all the cars for tomorrow will be parked in lane 27 with cars belonging to people getting back in the early morning parked at the front. Then the men just drive the cars round ready for people as they arrive.'
'Oh - so there's no crane then ?'
'No - sorry son but there's no crane.' I could no longer contain myself and burst out laughing.
My son looked disconsolate and fell silent.
'Son - you haven't told any of your mates at school this little story, have you ?'
'Nah. All that worries me now is how many other little stories you've told me over the years.'
urban artist
On Tuesday morning, as I stood on a hot, sweaty, overcrowded South West Train destined for London Waterloo, I happened to notice a pretty, young lady reading a magazine telling her what to wear, how to style her hair and how to look.
As I finally emerged from Bank station, the thoughts of skinny, overpaid, drug taking women as some sort of bizarre role model continued to rattle around my head. Inspired I decided to put my thoughts down on paper - or rather brickwork.
Exclusive, signed, numbered prints are now available for just £8,995. If you look very carefully, elements of the tie have been shaded using some of Peter Doherty's blood.
down the pan
Just pulled some ancient, fuzzy photos from my toy phone including one that captures a wonderful notice in a toilet in an unnamed, anonynmous, large corporation looking for significant financial savings in Q4.
In 2009, we spent £75,000 unblocking toilets at HQ. Items found included:
- plastic cups
- oranges
- sandwiches
- newspapers
- magazines
- underwear
There were around 250 incidents like this.
I never purchased an orange from that canteen ever again.
complaint to Ofcom
Last night, Sky News played audio footage of Raoul Moat's last moments. This included detailed analysis of the sounds by an expert of the three 'gunshots' and some idle chit-chat about whether someone was screaming 'Aaarrgh - my arm' (Moat) or 'Get the firearm' (police officers).
No matter what Moat was or what he had done, that was simply a step too far and unacceptable in my opinion.
This broadcast was not in the public interest and breached the standards of normal, common decency.
The media should not have been allowed within 2 miles of the standoff with police, let alone allowed to film and record the final moments of a man's life.
lockdown in Rothbury
A tragic story is unfolding in the North of England with a gunman on the run after killing one person and seriously injuring two more (his ex-girlfriend and a traffic policeman) following his release from prison last Friday.
Obviously, the police are doing everything to apprehend Raoul Moat safely without any further loss of life. However, as Moat claims he has 'lost everything' and is determined to 'wage war on the police', it's not clear this episode will reach a peaceful conclusion.
On Tuesday, the town of Rothbury was locked down; a two mile exclsuion zone was put in place, schools were closed and residents were told to stay indoors as Northumbria police thought they were closing in on the armed and dangerous suspect.
However, two days later, Moat is still on the loose so the town of Rothbury has now been reopened with a very visible police presence on the streets.
I'm not sure how I would have felt popping to the corner shop for a newspaper and a pint of milk, to find policemen stood at every corner given Moat's declaration to 'keep killing police until I am dead'. Far from being reassuring, this police presence would probably scare me even more.
'Norma, love - you couldn't just pop out and get some milk, could you ? Thanks.'