Thought Picnic: Powerless in darkness

Rich and busy

Not too far down the road from me, though longer that a brisk walk, you will find some of the most expensive real estate, the residences of young and odiously rich footballers.

During the week, I am ensconced in what is left of the country pile of a squire, a farm house which mostly survives as a week day bed and breakfast concern.

The main hall or mansion, if you care is now the technological information technology nerve centre of a major bank with other buildings as offices housing up to 4,000 employees on a busy day.

In fact, I have found that major global conglomerates seek out a remote and cheap (affordable) location to host their information technology teams. For instance, when I worked for Unilever, we were in North Wales, a place called Ewloe.

Power lost

This discovery comes with its issues, like I have been here just 4 weeks and in that time I have experienced rarities, things I am quite unfamiliar with.

In the first instance, it was men-at-work upgrading a power substation, with that came a power cut that lasted a good few hours, that was understandable.

Last night, the whole of North West England was buffeted by stormy hurricane winds with speeds of up to 100 miles/hour (160 km/hour), there were recordings on the news whilst it was on of much higher speeds in other places.

I retired only to wake up around 18:30 to realise that we had suffered a power cut with no inkling as to when it would be restored.

Managing power sources

One of the safety features of buildings like where I am staying is they are equipped with emergency lighting, but the loss of power also meant the security system was constantly beeping.

This power cut scenario presented some challenging situations because it meant we could not use the microwave oven, my laptops only had battery life that lasted so long and if I had to use my mobile phone, I had to be conscious of the need to remain contactable or rather have the means of contacting others.

Contingency arrangements

Now, in Nigeria where I lived up to the end of the 1980s, if I were in a hotel, it is possible that the contingency to frequent power cuts would have involved switching on a power generator. In fact, when I was in India, the power cuts at both the hotel and the training centre did not last 5 minutes before the power generating set was turned on.

This was not the case, so it was cereal for supper and the luck of one of guests giving me a spare LED torchlight that he had.

To get online, I used my mobile phone that was charged through the USB port of my laptop, later I only had to power up the other laptop without logging on to keep my phone charged through the night. This eventually drained the battery charge of the laptop, but at least I could still use it.

Electricity really matters

I doubt I can survive another night without power and much as I can fully commiserate with those who have been victims of severe weather issues in the UK this winter, with floods causing immeasurable damage, it is not a situation I can get too accustomed to.

You begin to appreciate better the role that electricity has in our daily lives for literally everything, lighting, cooking, cooling, heating, freezing, domestic appliances, communication, entertainment or just a sense of wellbeing. First world problems you might say, but when you get used to something, its absence would probably be felt more than if it was something that was in short supply.

Knutsford is that place and no, I have not been meeting up with WAGs of Manchester United, Manchester City, Liverpool or Everton premiership football clubs.

Thought Picnic: Yet I Celebrate My Handicaps As Signposts Of Thankfulness

The heat of a seat

Vulnerability is what defined today for me, and this to a point that I risked self-pity before I dusted it off as life, and life just happens.

I just about boarded my train and found a comfortable space to seat when the announcement came that the train that had rolled into the platform was in fact not the train I wanted and that another was expected before this left the platform.

There was no need to rush but the crowd had gathered for the other train that the choice priority seats were taken by the able-bodied as is usually the case in London where they ignore clearly labelled seats before they ignore people who clearly need those seats.

At the next stop, people with bicycles got on, four in all, and as the third man tried to fit his bicycle in, you could see he was annoyed that I was sat where I was, completely oblivious of why I did sit there.

Unseen to the mean

Sadly, the pleasure of being picked up in the morning was lost to circumstances beyond my control that I had to queue up for the free bus ride to the office. When the bus arrived, the driver got off to tuck my luggage in the luggage compartment, and as luck would have it, the first seat was occupied by someone who felt the seat next to him was best used by his bag.

No, people with apparent mobility problems are somewhat invisible and thereby not catered for or responded to with consideration or dignity most of the time, so haltingly, I made my way to the back of the bus, where in my more able-bodied state, I would have offered my seat closer to the front to someone who was now how I appeared to get around.

Every excuse to refuse

At the reception, I had hoped the situation would get better but compelling security requirements meant that the receptionist just had every unhelpful excuse even after being informed that I use a cane, I almost waved my cane in remonstration, and my office was on the second floor up two flights of stairs.

Bottling up my emotion, I apologised for expecting any help and eventually lugged my stuff up to my office, and when I closed from work, I did that same again, with effort but maintaining my dignity.

Yet, when we were picked up for our induction session that morning, the leader raced off ahead and by the time I knew it, being the third out of the door, I ended up the last as I quipped, we are never noticed are we? The man ahead of me then considerately decided to take up the rear as we arrive in the conference room, much later than when everyone had settled down.

The day passed without the company of my colleague, but I met up with acquaintances for lunch as I occupied the day with going through documentation and installation until the day darkened.

A bright dot on a blind spot

Knowing I had to walk to the bed and breakfast inn, I left with little light to spare, but I was aware that the road to the inn could be enveloped in pitch black darkness.

I had to contact GoogleMaps to be sure of where to go only to realise that I had to cross a road at a point where cars travelling at speed came round two blind spots that it was more their lights I needed to be out of sight because I really cannot judge distance from me and the approaching speed of a vehicle to be able to cross a road safely.

That was a 10-minute wait, and it could have been longer as I reflected on the favours I have enjoyed and how I could easily find myself in a very vulnerable spot if the help I had before taken for granted was not forthcoming.

For to be seen by the keen

Nevertheless, whilst momentarily, one has scope for self-pity, one still needs to get on because the world just gets on with being the world with or without you.

It was made more palpable when during the induction we were shown a DVD on fire safety which featured a lady with crutches who needed help, but was obstructed by things that had fallen over in her pathway, it took a while for someone to have the presence of mind to help her.

It is important that one recognises what one can do, where there is a danger or the risk of such, know those who would be concerned for more than themselves to be aware of others and their surroundings to lend a hand when needed.

An attitude of gratitude

I can only feel for those who are less able than I am in settings where people are less considerate and in buildings that are not fitted for accessibility. We need to get on with our lives regardless, and these little indignities would hopefully take no greater significance in our lives than as fodder for a raconteur.

We would live as independently as we can, with patience, with determination, with deliberate effort and stoicism whilst being thankful for the thoughtful, the mindful and the helpful. Thank you for your Good Samaritan humanity.

Radio tramp speaks trash

Seeing black in the dark

I am quite amused by the fuss being made of over Sarah Kennedy, a BBC Radio 2 presenter who is typically a housewife-type crude humorist who has to do working-class wake-up hours to present her daily show between 6:00AM and 7:30AM.

Apparently, she said of ethnic minority Members of Parliament; she could not spot a black man in a dark street till he opened his mouth.

The BBC advertises her show thus: Sarah presents the show for all Dawn Patrollers. Get news, views and music, plus the morning papers, travel, Pause for Thought and the studio webcam.

Now, for someone who has a public forum as she has, that she is lovingly referred to as “That Bloody Woman” by her fans, one would expect that the “Pause for Thought” element would give the programme an intelligent leaning, but that would be asking for too much in her case; a racial slur is sometimes needed to spice up an otherwise rotten show.

I do worry, that there are many of a feeble sensibility who would take umbrage at her somewhat offensive drivel and I sympathise.

Not 12 years ago, I visited the little sandwich shop that served the office areas in Ipswich and as I walked in, the lady threw that same quip at me; I responded, with all the killings and muggings going on, she would appear a bigger target and I would keep my mouth shut when I should be calling for help to save her.

She never expected that response, though she felt I would grin and bear it as opposed to my other colleague who took extreme offence at that expression, the day before.

It might have been a racist comment, possibly unintended, but it was ill-advised and not very smart – as for Sarah Kennedy, I would not have heard of the silly girl if she had not courted controversy and the newspapers had not devoted excessive newsprint inches to her notoriety.

I expect she would be sanctioned with the clamour now surrounding her programme and the body blows that the BBC has been receiving quite recently – you can be anything you want to be, but consider the responsibility that comes with whatever you become and use it for the good.

As for blacks, the positive side to this is we are safe in our skins and quite visible when we need to be.