Over the last decade the British government have placed an incentive on all the wrong things and the result is a disaster of giant proportion. It’s as if they have intentionally used our society as a giant social experiment. When Tony Blair’s New Labour party was elected they opened the doors to mass immigration, whether intentionally or otherwise. This has resulted in a vastly increased population but, because the government was determined to obfuscate this fact, there isn’t the infrastructure to deal with this greater number of people. As a result our schools in certain parts of the country are grossly overcrowded, and there simply aren’t the resources for the kids to be looked after properly. This is just one example of the general lack of forward planning.
One of the most cohesive elements in any society is the nuclear family. For some reason our leaders decided to cause this to unravel and the result is disastrous.
The government removed the tax incentives on being married and the result is that we have more divorces, separations and people deciding to live alone than ever before.
The government also took the step of putting single mothers at the top of the public housing list, giving these young women a very good reason to get pregnant but not to have a partner. As a direct consequence we have one of the highest rates of single motherhood in the world, and too many children who will be disadvantaged for the rest of their lives.
Following this disaster these young mothers generally have a series of different fathers for their different children as it doesn’t pay the mother to ever allow any of these men to move in to their homes and make their relationships permanent. In fact the government has also removed the tax incentives that marriage used to give as a benefit. This, in turn will result in an entire generation of these women never returning to full time work as they have little, if any educational qualifications and therefore cannot gain meaningful employment. They receive more by staying home and not working, plus they get the equivalent of free housing.
Britain now has three generations of some families who have never worked, permanently living on state benefits. Their argument is that they can’t afford to go out and get a job, which equals the benefits they receive. The answer is simple and tough; stop giving anything to those that can and should work. This group has lower educational standards, higher crime statistics and consequently less potential to break this vicious circle. The children of these families are a future crime wave, waiting to break upon the shores of our society.
Although our country plays lip service to having an equivalent to the freedom of information enjoyed in America we don’t really know anything they don’t want us to. The British establishment still believes they know what’s best for the rest of us. Therefore, our historians generally discover what happened fifty years after the event when the official government diaries and papers are released. I wouldn’t be at all surprised in the year 2050 that this series of disasters was part of a plan to secretly and totally socially engineer change to the fundamental nature of this country, and it has gone horribly wrong.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tired of London - Tired of Life
Something very special happens to England in general, London in particular when the sun comes out. It is simply glorious. The grass looks greener, the smell of it, newly mown, conveys the sweet smell of summer to our senses. Young woman, looking fresh, smelling delectable, demonstrate the success of all those diets and exercise programs, as they dress with the confidence only the young, beautiful and self possessed can rent during their younger years. How many of these young beauties listen to love songs on their MP3 players, as they sigh and sip from their endless bottles of branded water.
Men are more purposeful when the day puts on such a show, a swagger to their step. Marching off to do commercial battle, scoring a deal, making more money, all whilst pretending not to smile too broadly as they think of the BBQ to prepare, the beer and wine to drink.
Happy children scamper and gambol, properly not aware of the problems that later life might burden them with. Careful not to stray too far from mum, but far enough away to keep a careful eye on their every move.
There’s something about the comfortably off I see walking by. They might have the same problems as everyone else, but they have more choices. Their smiles are a little more self-assured. Everything in their lives seems to have the bumps ironed out of their path. Even their faces are a bit too smooth.
Even the buildings seem brighter and cleaner, their frontage winking a broad greeting to each passer by. The doormen’s surly scowls modified to broad grins behind their dark sunglasses.
Yes, this old town might be one of the most expensive on the planet, and perhaps there’s still too much traffic for us to breathe as freely as we’d prefer, but there isn’t a better city for art, museums, galleries, culture or food. They might boast of these things elsewhere, but they all secretly share the knowledge that here, in this place, at this time, they come second. How long this might last, none of us can know, but for this blink of our historical eye, let’s enjoy this magic Isle.
Such is London today; maybe the best place to be in the World.
Then, because it’s England, and I was enjoying myself all too much, waxing just a bit too lyrical, down came the rain. Big soft globs of water made their way direct from heaven onto my head, splish, splosh, splash, no pitter patter here, determined to make their presence felt. But however much the deluge wanted to blemish my day I had the imprint of its previous glory seared behind my eyelids, safe in my memory, ready to be reviewed whenever the wetness marginalized the memory. I don’t care about your rain, I have your sunshine all stored up.
Men are more purposeful when the day puts on such a show, a swagger to their step. Marching off to do commercial battle, scoring a deal, making more money, all whilst pretending not to smile too broadly as they think of the BBQ to prepare, the beer and wine to drink.
Happy children scamper and gambol, properly not aware of the problems that later life might burden them with. Careful not to stray too far from mum, but far enough away to keep a careful eye on their every move.
There’s something about the comfortably off I see walking by. They might have the same problems as everyone else, but they have more choices. Their smiles are a little more self-assured. Everything in their lives seems to have the bumps ironed out of their path. Even their faces are a bit too smooth.
Even the buildings seem brighter and cleaner, their frontage winking a broad greeting to each passer by. The doormen’s surly scowls modified to broad grins behind their dark sunglasses.
Yes, this old town might be one of the most expensive on the planet, and perhaps there’s still too much traffic for us to breathe as freely as we’d prefer, but there isn’t a better city for art, museums, galleries, culture or food. They might boast of these things elsewhere, but they all secretly share the knowledge that here, in this place, at this time, they come second. How long this might last, none of us can know, but for this blink of our historical eye, let’s enjoy this magic Isle.
Such is London today; maybe the best place to be in the World.
Then, because it’s England, and I was enjoying myself all too much, waxing just a bit too lyrical, down came the rain. Big soft globs of water made their way direct from heaven onto my head, splish, splosh, splash, no pitter patter here, determined to make their presence felt. But however much the deluge wanted to blemish my day I had the imprint of its previous glory seared behind my eyelids, safe in my memory, ready to be reviewed whenever the wetness marginalized the memory. I don’t care about your rain, I have your sunshine all stored up.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Enemy Within
Some of the things happening in the UK presently beggar belief. I shall give you a couple of examples to think about.
First in the theatre of shame is the claim by British Members of Parliament to increase their base salaries from £62,000 ($120,000) per year to more than £100,000 (approximately $200,000). This doesn’t include the various allowances and expenses for each MP that adds up to an average of a further £135,850 ($270,000). Who gets to decide these increases? The MP’s do.
The single biggest pig at this trough is the Speaker of the House of Commons, whose name is Michael Martin. The Speaker is the guy who acts impartially to organize the running of the Mother of Parliaments, the House of Commons. This gentleman seemingly has a pension pot of £1.4 million (approximately $2.8 million) a salary of £138,724 plus expenses last year of £82,106. This package all ignores the fact that this puffed up, self-important windbag is hopeless, totally rubbish at his job.
If there were not enough reasons why this type of behavior is wrong, try putting it into the context of the present credit crunch where Joe Average is really beginning to suffer economic distress. I offer this little bit of advice to our elected representatives, we are watching you, and unless you show some self restraint when this is voted on people like me will be recording how you vote and passing this information on to your electors when the next election takes place within the next two years.
At the same time as the price of gasoline for us has gone over £5 per gallon our Government has promised us a more than 10 pence rise per gallon by way of additional tax. Don’t forget that something like three quarters of the price of gas per gallon in the UK is already tax and you begin to see why the truckers started blocking some arterial roads in London and Cardiff yesterday by way of a warning shot across the bows. How could our Government be so dumb? One of the increasingly common phrases you hear about our Prime Minister is, he knows the value of a barrel of oil but not for a gallon of petrol. This guy is totally absorbed by the strategic and macro that he has totally lost sight of the tactical and the micro.
Another paradox in the UK is that our leaders tell us that the crime statistics are reducing. We are constantly told they have been successful in their battle against crime. I have to report that I’m not alone in simply not believing their self-serving propaganda. The other part of this paradox is that we now have more people in prison than ever before, the number topped 83,000 yesterday, which is also the highest number as a proportion of our population for any country outside dictatorships and, strangely, the USA.
Jail guards were quoted as saying that the police are now intentionally going as slowly as possible with processing convicted criminals since there are simply no spaces left in jail. It goes further, with some convicts already in jail, being released after serving only half of their sentence, rather than the usual two thirds. The remainder of the sentence the convict is “under supervision”. How about the idea of building more jails quickly or, alternatively, stop equating crimes against people with crimes against institutions? We have a long British history of jailing people for money crimes more harshly than we do for crimes against other individuals.
I agree with the Bishop of Rochester, the Pakistani born Doctor Right Reverend Michael Nazir-Ali who was quoted as saying that the country was mired in a doctrine of “endless self indulgence” and blames the politicians and their failed experiments of multi culturalism and in turn quotes others who cite “the loss of faith and piety among women” for the steep decline in Christian worship. This has led, in the Bishop’s opinion, to a breakdown in our society’s set of core values with inevitably awful consequences. He also faces up to the inherent conflicts with some brands of Islam that shows no respect for Western values. There is no accident that it took a Churchman born in a Muslim country to state the obvious. Our society has many enemies, but the worst enemy of all is to be found within us.
First in the theatre of shame is the claim by British Members of Parliament to increase their base salaries from £62,000 ($120,000) per year to more than £100,000 (approximately $200,000). This doesn’t include the various allowances and expenses for each MP that adds up to an average of a further £135,850 ($270,000). Who gets to decide these increases? The MP’s do.
The single biggest pig at this trough is the Speaker of the House of Commons, whose name is Michael Martin. The Speaker is the guy who acts impartially to organize the running of the Mother of Parliaments, the House of Commons. This gentleman seemingly has a pension pot of £1.4 million (approximately $2.8 million) a salary of £138,724 plus expenses last year of £82,106. This package all ignores the fact that this puffed up, self-important windbag is hopeless, totally rubbish at his job.
If there were not enough reasons why this type of behavior is wrong, try putting it into the context of the present credit crunch where Joe Average is really beginning to suffer economic distress. I offer this little bit of advice to our elected representatives, we are watching you, and unless you show some self restraint when this is voted on people like me will be recording how you vote and passing this information on to your electors when the next election takes place within the next two years.
At the same time as the price of gasoline for us has gone over £5 per gallon our Government has promised us a more than 10 pence rise per gallon by way of additional tax. Don’t forget that something like three quarters of the price of gas per gallon in the UK is already tax and you begin to see why the truckers started blocking some arterial roads in London and Cardiff yesterday by way of a warning shot across the bows. How could our Government be so dumb? One of the increasingly common phrases you hear about our Prime Minister is, he knows the value of a barrel of oil but not for a gallon of petrol. This guy is totally absorbed by the strategic and macro that he has totally lost sight of the tactical and the micro.
Another paradox in the UK is that our leaders tell us that the crime statistics are reducing. We are constantly told they have been successful in their battle against crime. I have to report that I’m not alone in simply not believing their self-serving propaganda. The other part of this paradox is that we now have more people in prison than ever before, the number topped 83,000 yesterday, which is also the highest number as a proportion of our population for any country outside dictatorships and, strangely, the USA.
Jail guards were quoted as saying that the police are now intentionally going as slowly as possible with processing convicted criminals since there are simply no spaces left in jail. It goes further, with some convicts already in jail, being released after serving only half of their sentence, rather than the usual two thirds. The remainder of the sentence the convict is “under supervision”. How about the idea of building more jails quickly or, alternatively, stop equating crimes against people with crimes against institutions? We have a long British history of jailing people for money crimes more harshly than we do for crimes against other individuals.
I agree with the Bishop of Rochester, the Pakistani born Doctor Right Reverend Michael Nazir-Ali who was quoted as saying that the country was mired in a doctrine of “endless self indulgence” and blames the politicians and their failed experiments of multi culturalism and in turn quotes others who cite “the loss of faith and piety among women” for the steep decline in Christian worship. This has led, in the Bishop’s opinion, to a breakdown in our society’s set of core values with inevitably awful consequences. He also faces up to the inherent conflicts with some brands of Islam that shows no respect for Western values. There is no accident that it took a Churchman born in a Muslim country to state the obvious. Our society has many enemies, but the worst enemy of all is to be found within us.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Manners Maketh Man
Yesterday I went to the centre of London on the underground train system. I am happy to report that it arrived on time, seats were available on the inbound journey, and there were no irksome delays. However today’s story concerns manners and how much they matter.
As it is a half term break for school children there were quite a few ankle biters traveling to town with their parents and grand parents. One small boy, about five or six years old was with both his grand parents, he looked like a blonde angel. The only problem was that he had his feet on the chair. Of course, you all know that’s wrong, because who knows what mud or other mess he might have on his shoes that he would now transfer onto that seat ready to damage or stain some unsuspecting and unprotected posterior. His grandma noticed his wondering feet and quietly whispered something into his young ear. The boy immediately sat up and didn’t repeat his error. Handled simply, painlessly and without a fuss the boy now understood not to put his feet on chairs in future.
If you don’t tell the child he will grow up behaving in an anti social manner. I know this for a fact having lectured to many classrooms and lecture halls full of teenagers who simply have no idea how to behave. This was further evidenced at the restaurant in which I had lunch. There a group of youngish middle-aged businessmen, apparently from the advertising industry, were eating. One of them pointed to the other’s watch and said it was very desirable; he had one exactly the same but with a blue face on it. He then went on to ask, “How much did you have to pay for it? If you paid more than £1,600 you were robbed.” I didn’t listen as the other guy responded, but again, they had no idea of manners. It’s impolite to ask the cost, fine if you want to admire something beautiful, but tacky if you demand the price.
I thought I was fairly desensitized until I was sitting at a theatre and the two men behind me decided to talk, quite loudly, throughout the show. This was a show that they were apparently enjoying, but saw no reason not to talk through. This included a conversation about how they were going to take their wives to a local sex shop and saying how much they would all enjoy it. Clearly the men were drunk, and from their demeanor it was clear they were looking for trouble.
Such public expressions of ignorance by grown up thugs is, unhappily, becoming more common in our country. This was a country famous for its courtesy. We ignore this general falling of our most basic standards of civility at our peril because it will spread and degenerate our society and all who live in it.
There was a small, brief ray of sunshine, when, back in the now over crowded train, on the return journey, I noted one young man who stood aside for a pregnant young woman, and made sure two older people were seated. It was good to see the three recipients of his simple act of courtesy smile, and the small smile of recognition from the young man. Maybe, just maybe, courtesy is as contagious as rudeness; let’s hope so.
As it is a half term break for school children there were quite a few ankle biters traveling to town with their parents and grand parents. One small boy, about five or six years old was with both his grand parents, he looked like a blonde angel. The only problem was that he had his feet on the chair. Of course, you all know that’s wrong, because who knows what mud or other mess he might have on his shoes that he would now transfer onto that seat ready to damage or stain some unsuspecting and unprotected posterior. His grandma noticed his wondering feet and quietly whispered something into his young ear. The boy immediately sat up and didn’t repeat his error. Handled simply, painlessly and without a fuss the boy now understood not to put his feet on chairs in future.
If you don’t tell the child he will grow up behaving in an anti social manner. I know this for a fact having lectured to many classrooms and lecture halls full of teenagers who simply have no idea how to behave. This was further evidenced at the restaurant in which I had lunch. There a group of youngish middle-aged businessmen, apparently from the advertising industry, were eating. One of them pointed to the other’s watch and said it was very desirable; he had one exactly the same but with a blue face on it. He then went on to ask, “How much did you have to pay for it? If you paid more than £1,600 you were robbed.” I didn’t listen as the other guy responded, but again, they had no idea of manners. It’s impolite to ask the cost, fine if you want to admire something beautiful, but tacky if you demand the price.
I thought I was fairly desensitized until I was sitting at a theatre and the two men behind me decided to talk, quite loudly, throughout the show. This was a show that they were apparently enjoying, but saw no reason not to talk through. This included a conversation about how they were going to take their wives to a local sex shop and saying how much they would all enjoy it. Clearly the men were drunk, and from their demeanor it was clear they were looking for trouble.
Such public expressions of ignorance by grown up thugs is, unhappily, becoming more common in our country. This was a country famous for its courtesy. We ignore this general falling of our most basic standards of civility at our peril because it will spread and degenerate our society and all who live in it.
There was a small, brief ray of sunshine, when, back in the now over crowded train, on the return journey, I noted one young man who stood aside for a pregnant young woman, and made sure two older people were seated. It was good to see the three recipients of his simple act of courtesy smile, and the small smile of recognition from the young man. Maybe, just maybe, courtesy is as contagious as rudeness; let’s hope so.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Strange Economics
Like most of you I read that our ex-Prime Minister, Tony Blair, made some unusual financial arrangements during his time as our leader. He managed to arrange a mortgage for twice the value of the house he purchased. This, if you or I tried to do it, would probably get you in very big trouble. Apparently not, if you are a very important person.
Then there's our current Prime Minister. Also keen to lead us prudently in all things economic he managed to arrange expenses for himself and his family which included the movie and sports package on his pay satellite TV service. Glad we could be of service Gordon! He certainly is prudent isn't he. I would add that he appears to be cheap and like his ex boss, another liberty taker.
Of course, neither of these paragons of virtue would do anything at all illegal, and would be very careful not to do so. But just because it's not illegal doesn't mean it's moral or the right thing to do.
These are just two more examples of shoddy behavior by those who are supposed to lead the rest of us. The recently released accounts of our Members of Parliament demonstrate a multitude of similarly awful examples by many of our elected representatives. Those that behave in this manner need to be shown up for what they are, crooks and charlatans. How dare these villains judge the rest of us, and how much longer can they continue to get away with such rank hypocracy?
Then there's our current Prime Minister. Also keen to lead us prudently in all things economic he managed to arrange expenses for himself and his family which included the movie and sports package on his pay satellite TV service. Glad we could be of service Gordon! He certainly is prudent isn't he. I would add that he appears to be cheap and like his ex boss, another liberty taker.
Of course, neither of these paragons of virtue would do anything at all illegal, and would be very careful not to do so. But just because it's not illegal doesn't mean it's moral or the right thing to do.
These are just two more examples of shoddy behavior by those who are supposed to lead the rest of us. The recently released accounts of our Members of Parliament demonstrate a multitude of similarly awful examples by many of our elected representatives. Those that behave in this manner need to be shown up for what they are, crooks and charlatans. How dare these villains judge the rest of us, and how much longer can they continue to get away with such rank hypocracy?
Sydney J. Pollack - A Tribute
Sydney Pollack, the Academy Award-winning director of "Out of Africa" who achieved acclaim making popular, mainstream movies with A-list stars, including "The Way We Were" and "Tootsie," died Monday. He was 73.Pollack, who also was a producer and actor, died of cancer at his home in Pacific Palisades.
I only sat down to talk with him at length once, and that was quite some time ago. He was a dignified, humorous and helpful man, and I was astounded he took the time to be helpful to me, then just a young man trying to make his way. He treated me with old world courtesy and grace, and I shall always treasure that afternoon and his wisdom and kindness.
I also want to pay tribute to him as a filmmaker. Sydney could direct, act or produce with equal dexterity, and always with wit, taste and excellence. If you glance at the wonderful list of his films you will see why he shall be sadly missed.
Sydney Pollack was an Academy Award-winning director who collaborated with a long list of elite actors on films such as "Out of Africa," "Tootsie," "The Way We Were" and "Absence of Malice."
Unlike many other top directors of his era, Pollack was also a film and television actor himself, and he used this unique position to forge a relationship with Hollywood's elite stars and create some of the most successful films of the 1970s and '80s.
In 1970, "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" about Great Depression marathon dancers, received nine Oscar nominations, including one for Pollack's direction. He was nominated again for best director for 1982's "Tootsie," starring Dustin Hoffman as a cross-dressing actor and Pollack as his exasperated agent. As director and producer, he won Academy Awards for the 1986 romantic epic "Out of Africa," starring Robert Redford and Meryl Streep, which captured seven Oscars in all.
Last autumn, Pollack played law firm boss Marty Bach opposite George Clooney in "Michael Clayton," which he also co-produced and received seven Oscar nominations.
Sydney, farewell, you were an immense talent but above all, you were a mensch.
I only sat down to talk with him at length once, and that was quite some time ago. He was a dignified, humorous and helpful man, and I was astounded he took the time to be helpful to me, then just a young man trying to make his way. He treated me with old world courtesy and grace, and I shall always treasure that afternoon and his wisdom and kindness.
I also want to pay tribute to him as a filmmaker. Sydney could direct, act or produce with equal dexterity, and always with wit, taste and excellence. If you glance at the wonderful list of his films you will see why he shall be sadly missed.
Sydney Pollack was an Academy Award-winning director who collaborated with a long list of elite actors on films such as "Out of Africa," "Tootsie," "The Way We Were" and "Absence of Malice."
Unlike many other top directors of his era, Pollack was also a film and television actor himself, and he used this unique position to forge a relationship with Hollywood's elite stars and create some of the most successful films of the 1970s and '80s.
In 1970, "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" about Great Depression marathon dancers, received nine Oscar nominations, including one for Pollack's direction. He was nominated again for best director for 1982's "Tootsie," starring Dustin Hoffman as a cross-dressing actor and Pollack as his exasperated agent. As director and producer, he won Academy Awards for the 1986 romantic epic "Out of Africa," starring Robert Redford and Meryl Streep, which captured seven Oscars in all.
Last autumn, Pollack played law firm boss Marty Bach opposite George Clooney in "Michael Clayton," which he also co-produced and received seven Oscar nominations.
Sydney, farewell, you were an immense talent but above all, you were a mensch.
Service With A Smile - Please
Today I went to see the new Indiana Jones movie. I call it a movie because that’s what the big American studios make, we, the Brits, make films, and in mainland Europe, they make cinema. One day, when we’re all in the mood I shall explain the subtle differences to the uninitiated.
First things first, the movie is a terrific fun. Old time B movie escapism. As a small kid said as he was coming out of the film and his mum asked him what he thought about the film, he responded, “It was terrific!” For those of you who have heard wise-ass critics scoring easy points against this film let me say they have no idea what they’re talking about. This is, of course, escapist nonsense, but it is supposed to be escapism writ large. Harrison Ford is still well able to swash his buckle and the action is smashing. No doubt the big time games designers and ride manufacturers are hard at work readying these for an expectant world.
The place chosen for the cinema visit was the Enfield Cineworld, the nearest movie theatre to Klinger Towers. The most important thing to think of here is that there was a probability that there would be a big audience for this particular movie. There were, after all, seven screens at this complex showing this film simultaneously which would appear to indicate that the cinema management were expecting a crowd.
It was therefore more than a little surprising that the door from the car park to the cinema complex was locked and the only means of entrance to remaining was the elevator. This was more than a little crowded as a consequence. Arriving in the lobby it was further surprising to discover a Disneyland type line waiting impatiently for someone to sell tickets. There was a single guy at one machine and the other four were unmanned. People were soon becoming very agitated. Being impatient myself I went to locate the manager who was having a chat with another member of staff at the far end of the very large foyer.
“Did you notice there are a couple of hundred people waiting and only one person selling tickets?” I asked him, “Yes,” he responded, “We have more people coming along very soon.” I suggested that he took some staff and himself away from where there were no customers and put them all on selling tickets, but by then his attention was elsewhere.
I rejoined the line, which hadn’t moved forward. Rather than trying to achieve this obvious ambition the manager sent another member of staff onto the ticket sales counter and he asked for anyone collecting advance booking or credit card transactions. Some of the crowd surged forward and others in the line quickly and volubly demonstrated their resentment. It was all getting worse. Just as it seemed there would be a much worse problem if the manager didn’t take action several new staff arrived at the ticket area.
Most of these staff were painfully slow but for one young lady who was about five times quicker than her colleagues. Within a couple of minutes this young lady had basically cleared the backlog of customers and I found myself purchasing my tickets from her, I told her that she was terrific, and not only that, unlike her surly colleagues she was friendly, smiling and accurate in her work. Her name is Sara, and no doubt she is going to be a very valuable employee.
I don’t understand why it would be so hard for this cinema to hire and manage their staff, but clearly it is. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult for this cinema to keep their lift working between their car park and their foyer, but it is usually inoperative. I don’t know why this cinema should find it difficult to keep the door between their car park and their cinema unlocked but clearly they do. It should not be very hard to place staff at ticket machines for one of the busiest days of the year but they clearly do. I still don’t understand why it should cost more than £11 ($20) for two small (kids) popcorns and two drinks, but it does, but I understand why, its because the cinema wants to rip their customers off.
For the record I have an annual ticket to this cinema chain because I like to go to the cinema, but it would be great if they had any clue how to run their cinemas. They have a total management failure. They should beg that young woman, Sara, to take over. They are the Fawlty Towers of movie theatre management.
In the UK we are generally pretty bad at service, although this is still a radical improvement since I was a boy. Then the service was more or less non-existent. I remember being in the Midlands town of Derby when I was a boy and I couldn’t find a decent meal during a whole week’s stay, now you would probably find something edible every day. The service improved with the immigration of people who want to live in this country, mainly from Eastern Europe. Clearly the lesson is that you can have better service if you are prepared to increase your population by a few million people. Unless you visit the Cineworld in Enfield, where they still manage to provide the lousiest, rudest and most inefficient old-fashioned lack of service possible. It reminds me of the good old days!
First things first, the movie is a terrific fun. Old time B movie escapism. As a small kid said as he was coming out of the film and his mum asked him what he thought about the film, he responded, “It was terrific!” For those of you who have heard wise-ass critics scoring easy points against this film let me say they have no idea what they’re talking about. This is, of course, escapist nonsense, but it is supposed to be escapism writ large. Harrison Ford is still well able to swash his buckle and the action is smashing. No doubt the big time games designers and ride manufacturers are hard at work readying these for an expectant world.
The place chosen for the cinema visit was the Enfield Cineworld, the nearest movie theatre to Klinger Towers. The most important thing to think of here is that there was a probability that there would be a big audience for this particular movie. There were, after all, seven screens at this complex showing this film simultaneously which would appear to indicate that the cinema management were expecting a crowd.
It was therefore more than a little surprising that the door from the car park to the cinema complex was locked and the only means of entrance to remaining was the elevator. This was more than a little crowded as a consequence. Arriving in the lobby it was further surprising to discover a Disneyland type line waiting impatiently for someone to sell tickets. There was a single guy at one machine and the other four were unmanned. People were soon becoming very agitated. Being impatient myself I went to locate the manager who was having a chat with another member of staff at the far end of the very large foyer.
“Did you notice there are a couple of hundred people waiting and only one person selling tickets?” I asked him, “Yes,” he responded, “We have more people coming along very soon.” I suggested that he took some staff and himself away from where there were no customers and put them all on selling tickets, but by then his attention was elsewhere.
I rejoined the line, which hadn’t moved forward. Rather than trying to achieve this obvious ambition the manager sent another member of staff onto the ticket sales counter and he asked for anyone collecting advance booking or credit card transactions. Some of the crowd surged forward and others in the line quickly and volubly demonstrated their resentment. It was all getting worse. Just as it seemed there would be a much worse problem if the manager didn’t take action several new staff arrived at the ticket area.
Most of these staff were painfully slow but for one young lady who was about five times quicker than her colleagues. Within a couple of minutes this young lady had basically cleared the backlog of customers and I found myself purchasing my tickets from her, I told her that she was terrific, and not only that, unlike her surly colleagues she was friendly, smiling and accurate in her work. Her name is Sara, and no doubt she is going to be a very valuable employee.
I don’t understand why it would be so hard for this cinema to hire and manage their staff, but clearly it is. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult for this cinema to keep their lift working between their car park and their foyer, but it is usually inoperative. I don’t know why this cinema should find it difficult to keep the door between their car park and their cinema unlocked but clearly they do. It should not be very hard to place staff at ticket machines for one of the busiest days of the year but they clearly do. I still don’t understand why it should cost more than £11 ($20) for two small (kids) popcorns and two drinks, but it does, but I understand why, its because the cinema wants to rip their customers off.
For the record I have an annual ticket to this cinema chain because I like to go to the cinema, but it would be great if they had any clue how to run their cinemas. They have a total management failure. They should beg that young woman, Sara, to take over. They are the Fawlty Towers of movie theatre management.
In the UK we are generally pretty bad at service, although this is still a radical improvement since I was a boy. Then the service was more or less non-existent. I remember being in the Midlands town of Derby when I was a boy and I couldn’t find a decent meal during a whole week’s stay, now you would probably find something edible every day. The service improved with the immigration of people who want to live in this country, mainly from Eastern Europe. Clearly the lesson is that you can have better service if you are prepared to increase your population by a few million people. Unless you visit the Cineworld in Enfield, where they still manage to provide the lousiest, rudest and most inefficient old-fashioned lack of service possible. It reminds me of the good old days!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
