Flooding? No, we're sinking.

We are told by guardian readers that global warming is causing sea levels to rise as the polar ice caps melt. This is of course nonsense. Ice, as we all know from basic science, takes up more room than water. This is why car radiators break in winter when the water inside freezes and you forgot to put antifreeze in them. So when the polar ice caps melt, logically sea levels will fall. Or possibly stay exactly as they are, because a little of the ice (the tip, as it where, of the iceberg) is above water level.
The sandal wearers also tell us that as the polar ice caps melt weather patterns will change and we will get more rain. Again, there is a flaw in their logic. There is only a finite amount of water, which must then evaporate to become rain again. So we must also get more sunshine to balance things out. But that is also nonsense.
I of course have my own theory. We are not seeing rising sea levels, or increased rainfall. In fact rainfall so far this month is below average at 43mm, we could normally expect up to 120mm by now. No the problem is Britain is sinking under the weight of the population. That is why southern England is suffering the worse of the floods.
There is a logical argument to this. We hardly ever hear of flooding in New Zealand, for example. New Zealand has a landmass of 103, 483 square miles and a population of 4.4 million people. That's an average of 42.5 people to every square mile. The country is bouyant and is able to bear the weight of it's people.
Yorkshire, as a county is roughly 6,000 square miles with roughly 5 million residents. That's 833 people to every square mile. A lot more people but the equilibrium holds.
Now compare this with the Greater London Area - 8 million people living in just 609 square miles, or a staggering 13,136 people to every square mile. Their combined weight is surely causing the southern end of the county to tilt and sink into the ocean, with a greater propensity to flooding as a result.
The only solution is to encourage people to migrate north in the hopes of balancing things out. The government know this, but don't want to alarm the public, so they are going about it stealthily. This is why north of the border you get free prescriptions and free places at university. The downside is, it rains all the time, but at least it doesn't flood.

Diary of a possible diabetic

I am supposed to have an annual medical at work. Recently I had my first annual medical for 8 years. This is not to say that I have been lapse and missed them, it's more a case of my job hasn't been bothered to do them. This has never really concerned me, as despite rapidly approaching middle age I have always considered myself to be in rude health. In fact I last saw my doctor (now retired) in 2001, and that was only to issue him a speeding ticket on the bypass. Before that I saw him in 1997 when I moved house and changed practice and only because he insisted on a well man check before he would accept me. Presumably if I had been ill, he would have rejected me as a patient. That's how the National Health Service works I suppose.
Anyhow, other than visits for a sick note after breaking some ribs (twice) and to arrange a vasectomy I haven't placed too much of a burden on him. I haven't had the need, as I generally feel fine. I don't get headaches, migraines, stress, back pain, football cup finals or anything else that I might need to see the doctor for.
So I was surprised when the medical at work threw up a problem. I live a sort of healthy lifestyle, to a certain value of health. I drink too much but less than most Doctors, I don't smoke and I exercise a little less than I ought too - cycling occasionally and hiking regularly with occasional hours in the gym.If it's a short trip I walk rather than take the car, I use the stairs rather than the lift because I know it's good for my long term knee injury and I carry shopping if it's less than a basketful instead of using a trolley. I also park in the empty farthest recesses of the supermarket car park and walk instead of parking by the door. So, I'm not sedentary  but not a gym monster either. I also eat reasonably healthily, with some fruit and veg, chicken and fish and rice and pasta but also enjoy a juicy blood filled steak as well. I often skip meals and if I'm busy I forget to eat all day or just don't have time.
I expected to be told I was overweight, with high blood pressure, stress and the life expectancy of a Mayfly, simply because most of the rest of my team had been told the same.
My weight didn't cause any comment, my eyesight was fine even with my reading glasses on the desk instead of on my face, and my hearing was better than expected for my age. My blood pressure, I was told, was disgustingly healthy. And my resting heart rate was almost undetectable, barely ticking over. I was however dangerously dehydrated and showing excess sugar in my urine. I laughed this off as being down to the two mugs of coffee and the large bacon and mushroom bun I had eaten just prior to going into the medical. Yes, I know, not part of a healthy diet, but it was a 10 a.m. appointment, I'd been up since 5.30 and hadn't eaten breakfast. Besides which, it is part of the image I like to promote, poking fun at authority. Turning up for the medical with a bacon banjo in one hand and a steaming mug of sweet Joe in the other does normally provoke a reaction. And the dehydration thing is down to having little opportunity to stop either for a drink or to use a toilet, combined with working 10 hours wearing a flak jacket that weighs as much as a small child. It makes you sweat a little and you dehydrate.

Anyhow I was told, in no uncertain terms, to go see my doctor. Urgently. I might be diabetic.

The NHS, I discovered, don't do urgent. Well, casualty does, in a fashion, although not like "Casualty" on the TV. No on ever shouts "stand clear" or "Doctor Bon Jovi to Resus" when I'm in there. GP's surgeries certainly don't do urgent. You need to know a fortnight in advance if you are going to be ill so you can arrange an appointment. And then you have to take time off to fit in around all the retired and unemployed patients.
So, a fortnight later I got to speak with a Doctor. A nice girl, but I couldn't help but wonder if her mum knew she was using her office. Anyhow, she arranged for me a fasting blood test and a few days after that I rushed straight in and blood was taken. The results I was told, would be available in a week. Yes, another week. This is urgent of course. Now, my non blood related uncle has been a diabetic all his life. I know for a fact he has a little electronic device on which he pricks his finger and in seconds it tells him his blood sugar levels. He'd be knackered if it took a week. Why should it take a week? I could take it to the laboratory myself, and do the test in a couple minutes.

I was informed that if the test result was high, I would find out sooner, and they would make arrangements for a Glucose Tolerance Test. This I was told, involves another blood test, followed by a drink of Lucozade (other brands of glucose based drinks are available) followed by a two hour wait and another blood test. And the results would be available in a week. Or sooner if they were high. The appointment for this test has been made for next week. So it will be roughly seven weeks before I learn my fate. Urgently. Ha!

I do have a slight problem with this though, Firstly they have arranged the appointment without consulting me for 9 a.m. so that I can fast for 12 hours beforehand, i.e overnight. Very considerate of them, except I am on nightshift and would normally eat between 3 and 4 a.m. Secondly I have to hang around the surgery for two hours between tests. Well, I hope they don't mind me snoring, as I will, because I will have been at work all night. Thirdly, I was given Lucozade once as a kid when I was ill. It made me even more ill, because it makes me vomit. I cannot stomach Lucozade - there is too much sugar in it, which is why I have never drunk it since. I genuinely fear I will embarrass them in their own surgery.

In the meantime I have been reading up a bit about diabetes just in case. All I knew previously was that if a diabetic goes into a coma you give him a barley sugar sweet. Because we all carry barley sugar sweets don't we? What are they living in, an Enid Blyton Novel?

It turns out that if I am diabetic it will be type 2 diabetes. I think this means I cannot eat Volkswagen Camper vans. If I do not adapt to it I can look forward to going blind and deaf, my legs falling off, erectile dysfunction, depression (presumably because of the erectile dysfunction) dementia, strokes, heart attack and eventual death. Damn, and I was so trying to avoid eventual death. These could of course come in any order.  Death usually prevents the others taking place though.

I don't mean to make light of diabetes, but what else is there to do? I need to change my diet and loose weight, and exercise more. But we all know that, diabetic or otherwise. It's easy to say on paper, but in reality when the cake hits the fan you can't help yourself. Okay, when my legs do fall off I'll loose weight, but that kind of limits the exercise thereafter.

Hopefully I am "pre-diabetic" and can avert the full blown condition by lifestyle changes. But if I can't I luckily  have someone else to blame. Both my parents are type 2 "late onset" diabetics, and the chances of me being the same are about 70%, so it's their fault, not mine. Maybe I can claim compensation.

The one silver lining appears to be that alcohol consumption actually reduces sugar levels in the body. So, I'll drink to that then.

To be continued "urgently," once my results are known.

It's Grim in Grimsby

Okay, it's dull in Hull, buy by God it's grim in Grimsby.
I had to go there yesterday to collect an item I bought on a well known on line auction site which almost rhymes with me-pay.
My first problem came with my SatNav. Well actually it's my wifes SatNav, but she never really got on with it, so it now resides in my glovebox. There's lots of room for it because i don't keep gloves in there. Finding Grimsby was of course no problem for me. A63, A15 over the Humber Bridge, A180 - fall into Grimsby. Not a problem and a journey I have done many times. The street that was my destination however was unfamiliar to me, so I duly typed in Grimsby and was given the choice of little Grimsby or Great Grimsby. Little Grimsby is a tiny village with no streets so far as I could tell, so it had to be Great Grimsby. That's bigging it up. Alright Grimsby, or Passable Grimsby. But hardly Great.
Next I typed in the street name and the SatNav turned itself off. I tried again, suspecting the battery might be weak or the charger lead not plugged in properly. Same happened. As soon as I entered the street name the SatNav switched itself off. I couldn't even get it to accept a nearby street, or indeed any street in Grimsby. It would direct me elsewhere. Hull, Sheffield, Doncaster - no worries. But Grimsby? No it clearly didn't want to go. I tried Cleethorpes, but it didn't want to go there either, presumably because it would have to go through Grimsby to get there. There is a huge black hole  in the SatNav memory, like Grimsby doesn't exist. Perhaps it had a bad experience there once?
I resorted to the usual man tactic of driving there and attempting to find the place myself. After all I had worked in Grimsby for a while 22 years ago, and it wasn't that big. (Or Great) After 30 minutes of going around in circles I admitted defeat and knew I needed to ask directions. Normally in these circumstances I will look for someone middle aged walking a dog, on the basis that a dog walker will be local and know his or her way around. It's not without it's flaws, I admit, but generally I win. Just be wary, if you find yourself in this predicament that you do not pick an elderly dog walker. Firstly you will get his life story, followed by directions that include expressions like "turn left where the New Roller Disco used to be" and that's if he can remember at all.
On this occasion however there were no dog walkers about, and this was because due to the depression and mass unemployment they had eaten all the dogs. I thought Hull was suffering in the recession, but Grimsby is just endless rows of boarded up shops. The only thriving businesses appeared to be a boarding up company, betting shops, off licences and funeral directors - presumably they have a high suicide rate. There was the usual brightly lit ASDA, B & Q, Maplins, HALFORDS etc on a shopping estate and even a COMET having a closing down sale, but other than that it was depressingly grey. The only people on the streets either lived there and were drunk, with many carrier bags (Why is that?) or were teenage hoodies who would have stolen my SatNav if I had stopped to ask them directions. Not that it would have been any use to them, with it's Grimsbyphobia. I did find a McDonalds but daren't go in there to ask for directions, because they would have undoubtedly given me fries with them. And in all likelihood they wouldn't have known there own way home in any case.
Fortunately I knew where the main police station was, and found it in semi darkness, presumably saving electricity. Either that or they wished to merge in with the rest of the greyness around them. Swallowing my manly pride I asked directions off a policeman. I was almost there as it turned out, and a minute or so later I had my package.
Strangely, as soon as I got back in the car the SatNav sprang to life with a map showing exactly where I was, and how to get out, quickly. This is intelligent SatNav, it refuses boldly, to no go where man has gone before.

Police and Crime Commisioners - what a result

And the winner is.......  The not outstandingly ugly but slightly thick looking Tory MP who is already too busy to do the job, and only wants it so that the man who lives in the castle and drives many Jaguars doesn't get it.

Well I have to say now that I don't get it. At a time of austerity we as a nation have just spent £150 million to hold an election that less than 1/5th of us were remotely interested in. Add to that the salaries of the police commissioners over the next four years and we have, well I don;t know but a big pot of money. Divide the £150 by the 41 forces that had to elect a commissioner and you're looking at £3.6 million each. For this area the commissioners salary alone is £75,000 a year, so over four years there's another £300,000. Then there'll be his expenses, an office, a secretary, no doubt a company car run at public expense..........

The crime and police commissioner, in real terms is costing us at least £1 million a year!

So far as I can work out the Existing Police authority comprised of 9 elected Councillors representing the unitary authorities that comprise the borough, plus 8 independent representatives. Presumably the councillors  were, and will continue to be funded by their council salaries, and if I understand correctly the remaining 8 would only have been paid reasonable expenses. So unless the expenses of the 17 amounted to £58,000 each a year we are severely out of pocket on the deal.

And this at a time when our local police force is facing budgetary cuts of £23 million, with the loss of 440 officers. So, if my numbers add up we could have either had an election nobody wanted for a job that wasn't necessary, or we could have kept 75 of those 440 officers on the streets.

Only time will tell if the man is worth the cost.

Police and Crime Commisioners

Well, here we are at the start of a new error. We are about to replace Police Authorities, which work perfectly well and don't interfere with operational policing matters and have no political bias with Police and Crime Commisioners. Which won't, will and do. Only time will tell if this works or not.
In my local area I have seven possible candidates. So far as I can tell they are, in no particular order of preference or importance;
1. An elderly fat and ugly man who lives in  a castle, has a title and drives a number of Jaguars. He knows nothing about Policing. But believes he does.
2. A slightly younger equally ugly man who appears to hate policemen and is borderline racist and homophobic. He knows nothing about Policing. But believes he does.
3. An ugly woman who appears to be a plant watering tree hugger lefty socialist who will give away a third of her money in order to buy votes. She knows nothing about Policing. But believes she does.
4. A dull but seemingly capable ex-policeman who has too much time on his hands and is a failed author. He thinks you think he knows a bit about Policing. But believe me, he doesn't. He might have done 30 years ago, but that was then, this is now.
5. An ex local counsellor who admits he is already too busy to do the job but doesn't want the elderly fat ugly Jaguar driver to get it either. He knows nothing about Policing. But believes he does.
6. An unemployed ex-soldier who has a failed business behind him and thinks he will gain "the public vote" by wearing a T shirt during his campaign. Apparently though he does not have enough petrol in his car to get across the Humber Bridge, so in that respect he is indeed very representative of the common man. He knows nothing about anything. But believes he does.
7. A retired MP who will just take the money and leave things exactly as they are no because to rush in and make changes would be foolhardy. He cares nothing about anything. But believes you expect he does.

I have to pick two of these to vote for, a first choice and a second choice. So far as I can work out if my second choice gets more votes overall than my first choice he wins, even though my first choice might get more first choice votes. My biggest problem is that I can't even pick a single one of them, none are suitable for the job, but some are far less suitable than others. On that basis, the voting system should have been reversed. Vote for who you don't want, eliminate them, then deal with those that remain. A bit like that popular TV entertainment show X factory, I am lead to understand. In fact, had they gone down that route, we could have had 6 weeks of TV entertainment with a highly lucrative premium rate phone in vote which might have gone some way to paying the £75,000 salary for the new Commissioner. Worth a thought.

Whatever happens we are stuck with one of the above for the next four years. Could be worse. Not sure how though.