More to life than sound bites!.

My column in the Herald Express on Thursday, November 29, 2012


LIFE is more than a sound bite. I'm writing this once again in the dark hours before dawn, a time of quiet reflection as the world sleeps. The thing is that once I am awake my mind kicks in and, for me, the new day has started.​ The quietness of the hour allows me some latitude without the daily onslaught of emails, text messages, tweeting, radio, television and other miscellaneous distractions. That daily modern condition impacts upon us all, of course.

There was a time, or so it seems to me, that I would read rather than skim the written word. Too often now I rely on what we casually refer to as a sound bite, that short burst of information that is all too easily lost within seconds. What is a sound bite? A sound bite is a short verbal burst that often tells too little of what is said, leaving the listener only partially informed. But that is the nature of our world today perhaps, a series of short sound and visual images telling only part of a story.

I don't know whether you have been watching the brilliant television series 'Homeland' starring Damian Lewis (pictured).

If you have then you will remember the start of each episode and the series of stark monochrome news clips. For me there is an echo, some 40 years later, of Simon and Garfunkle's Silent Night which has the famous Christmas hymn threaded with traumatic news clips of the day. Sound bites! So many of us these days exist on the sound bite clips that record these troubled times and that, I suspect, distorts reality. I say that because the sound bites automatically report the all too shocking news and can reinforce the feeling that little good is going on.

Certainly for me the past year has been a roller-coaster that has left me battered by personal events that make me tend to pick up the negative. Then suddenly up pops a flash of light, a moment of abstract amusement or an event that spreads a feeling of positive warmth! Let me tell you about an event that did lift my spirit.

Last week, I attended the 2012 graduation ceremony for the latest batch of locally trained social entrepreneurs. "Social what?" you ask. Some years ago social activist Michael Young set up a number of things that for me and many others demonstrate the power of social interaction in a way that does work for what might be described as the greater good. One of those outcomes has been the establishment of a number of schools for social entrepreneurs. What an odd word entrepreneur is! It is, of course, a sound bite word too often and covers a wide variety of business activity. Do a little homework and look at the dictionary definition and then look at the way in which it is used.

It might bring a smile to your face and make more sense of distorted sound bites. Locally a few years ago a school for social entrepreneurs was established at Dartington and trained folk in developing socially based business activity. So often in the past good schemes that help and build social cohesion were lost because of a lack of business knowledge. Lord Young was very aware of that and his vision allowed the development of training bases that gave a business framework, if you like, to the dream. I thought that the latest graduates — who become fellows of the School of Social Entrepreneurs after a one-year course — reflected the dramatic changes occurring in our world and really gave me hope for the future.

During the afternoon each graduate spoke with passion about their work and I have to tell you that I was hugely moved by each presentation. The graduating social entrepreneurs are Paul Savil (Re-Branch), Rachel Williams (Transitions), Katherine Ford (The Carousel Project), Anna Clarke (R-emerge), Kirsty Mooney (Families Together), Michelle Preston (Simply Dynamic), Alan Whittle (ES-GEN), Robin Causley (Sustain Ability), Sarah Ready (Torbay Food Bank), Greg Meanwell (Village of Kin), Richard Woodall (Unknown Film School) and Hayley Mogridge (Knowing-Me Life Books). What an afternoon and what a footprint these folk might leave as a beacon of light in a troubled world. I have no doubt that they will and if you have computer access do look at www.dartington.org/sse for more information.

My parting words were: "I wanted to say how much I enjoyed Wednesday afternoon. In these dark and troubled times we need more than ever to be looking for the greater good and your journey is already a beacon of light. Keep the faith, good luck and walk gently on the world."

The afternoon presentation offered so much more than a sound bite and as I walked back to the now parking metered Dartington Hall car park I felt hugely inspired and feel that our community will benefit from their vibrant ethical social interaction.

Keep the smile!

What sort of community do we want?



My Herald Express column 15th November 2012

THOSE of you who regularly read my rambling rhetoric may remember that I did actually welcome the arrival of Gordon Oliver's huge bushy palm tree that is now strategically planted in the middle of the Kerswell Garden roundabout.


It brought a smile to my face at a time when I seemed to have so little to smile about
Yes, it was expensive and, yes, there were doubtless many other things that might have better used the funding, however it really is a very powerful image for the English Riviera.

I certainly thought so when travelling back from Exeter one misty evening and came upon the beautiful floodlit image before me. In an increasingly lacklustre world it made me suddenly tingle and gave the feeling that I was arriving at a special place. It really was quite a statement and, as I say, it made me smile.

It did, therefore, sadden me when some brainless idiot stripped the bark from one side of the palm. Why would anyone want to do that to a beautiful living tree? The bark will not grow back and the scar will become a tragic sign of these troubled times.

You may also have noticed that the bushy palm has a warm winter coat to guard against the cruel northeaster winds and now stands proudly rampant like a giant stalagmite reaching crookedly toward the distant sky. It has now metamorphosed into a hugely powerful signpost for the English Riviera Global Geopark. How clever is that?

Nick Powe, of Kents Cavern (the English Riviera Global Geopark champion), must be jumping up and down with gleeful excitement at this new monolith.

Perhaps this seasonal image adjustment was always part of Gordon Oliver's master plan for Torbay or is it simply just another happy accident? Answers on a postcard!

Oddly enough, I have always been intrigued by the mysterious Kents Cavern. Have you been there? It really is quite a special place and I am so very grateful to Nick Powe for showing me its hidden secrets a little while ago. At one point during the journey he turned off all the lights. I found myself in total darkness and complete silence.

Now numerous readers may well think that leaving me in a dark and silent cave is a good idea. Hmm. No postcards please!

But it's not just the darkness of course but the feeling of being trapped underground in a rocky hole. Years ago I used to go caving on the Cotswolds and have done the darkness bit before but I still find it rather scary. With Nick as a guide I always felt safe but those years ago exploring caves I felt anything but safe.

We always seek that light in the darkness. The thing about Kents Cavern is that it is a journey through time and when you reach the deepest point you know that this is indeed a very special place. It is a moment when, perhaps, you can truly connect with your ancestors. I found myself reaching down to touch a large stone and immediately wondered about the many hands that have done exactly the same for thousands of years. It gave me a sudden spiritual lift and perhaps a brief glimpse of eternity.
I think it is something that we should all experience and when you reach that deep subterranean place free your mind. Touch that distant time as you run your hand over the smooth surface of that ancient rock and feel the endless energy that perhaps connects us all.

Now here is something to think about. Having done the Kents Cavern bit, it is worthwhile taking a good look at where we are now and how this community has developed. This whole area is steeped in history and by understanding that social journey we can, perhaps, start to make sense of where we are going.

What sort of community do we want?

What sense do we want to make of our town centres and the neighbourhoods that surround?


My worry is that we are all so busy rushing around that change may happen that isn't for the greater good.
The dislocation of community is a possible consequence as our once vibrant main streets give way to the proverbial tumbleweed. This is not helped of course by the relentless onslaught of bright blue parking meters sending out an unwelcome message.

Do we really welcome visitors to Torbay or is there a more sinister meaning to be derived from Gordon Oliver's digit on the Kerswell Garden roundabout?

Keep the smile!

The Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn



My column in the Herald Express 1st November 2012.

As I write these words in the early morning a north east wind is battering my house in the dark hours just before dawn and I remember from years ago a song by the Mamas and Papas had the line “…and the darkest hour is just before dawn.” In the distance I can hear the waves pounding the beach and in the garden trees creak against the cold wind.


My daily routine starts before six and as the year trundles I find myself at that quiet time doing numerous things including walking my dog, Marley, to the paper shop. In these days of economic hardship the street lights in my road are switched off and so my journey starts in darkness at the darkest hour. I like the lonely time but do take care on Monday’s not to go base over apex having tripped over the recycling bins waiting for TOR2 collection!

Now this might sound rather glum, but it isn’t for two reasons. The first is that the first shards of light of the new day push away the darkness and the dawn lifts from the distant horizon with the promise of a new day.

The second is the memory trigger that song lines allow and the Mamas and the Papas for me somehow capture a sunny time in my life during the summers of ’70 and ’71 working in camps in the good old US of A. Everything seemed to sparkle then, or so it seems now !

It is all too easy, of course, to look back and say that the world was a better place but then, in the words of L P Hartley "The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there" we are reminded that indeed the past is indeed a different place.

There are excting things happening and last week I pitched up to a consultation meeting about the proposal for the new South Devon University Technical College for Engineering, Water and the Environment that is, if the bid is successful, to be built in the Newton Abbot area. The new university technical colleges will provide vocational education for the 14 to 18 age group and will be a partnership between employers, educational establishments, local authorities and other organisations.

The meeting was charged with energy and despite feeling a little battered beforehand I left with a new spring in my step! For those of you who surf the cyber world do Google the name and follow the various links to see how good this is. It was enough to have local MP Anne Marie Morris jumping up and down in the House of Commons! Once you’ve had a good read of what is on offer then you will understand why she needed to get her message across!

Mayor Gordon Oliver is so often under attack for decisions that he has made, but then so was his predecessor Nick Bye. I guess that if you seek public office then it is to be expected, but as I have said before no one has the right to insult. One thing that has come under attack recently is his whopping great palm tree at the bottom of Hamelin Way. Have you seen it? It stands rampant on a pile of pebbles in the middle of one of the busiest roundabouts on the English Riviera.

I happened to be driving back from Exeter early one misty morning and there it was! Whatever you might think about the cost it really is a bit of a statement. I am probably going to regret saying this, but I love it! My worry is that the poor thing may not survive having been happily growing in warm sunny Spain before being transported to a valley bottom in wintery Torbay. By the time you read this it may have its special coat on to keep out the cold. My suggestion for a palm tree warmer would be an ‘attack’ from the yarn bombing Guerilla Grannies! Have you come across their work? I happened to be walking on the Goodrington rock walk the other day and found these colourful little figures knitted to trees, handrails, seats and other fixtures. What fun! So my suggestion is to have them knit Gordon’s palm tree a warm winter coat! Of course it is not a serious suggestion but I do wish the majestic palm tree well and hope that it celebrates the fact that South Devon really is a wonderful place to live.

Keep the smile.