Why Traffic Wardens are bastards

The lesser striped Traffic Warden. Also referred to as a parking enforcement officer, civil enforcement attendant or oi, you, yes you, you bastard with the ticket. 

In local boroughs across the United Kingdom, these scuttling figures in officious looking rain jackets (of which they have an unnerving habit of waring even during the most intense of heatwaves), patrol our streets with the sole intent to glean the last milliliter of milk from the cash cow that is comprised of Britain's motorists.

Often seen as a lone predator, traffic wardens often hunt in packs of twos. Nobody is quite sure why, in fact, few people are quite sure why they are there in the first place.

It is perfectly reasonable to see these dedicated career people as assets to local governments, raking in fines from deviant motorists who apparently live above the law.

Information from the government's careers advice website states that the expected salary of a traffic warden is between £18,200 and £22,000 per annum. This is a figure which personally disgusts me.

This is an excerpt from the job description on the aforementioned website: 'You would usually work a shift system, including weekends, between 6.30am and 8pm.

You would spend most of the day working outdoors in all weather conditions, and in the dust, noise and fumes of traffic. You may work in a different location each day. You would wear a uniform and be equipped with a personal radio in case of emergency. On occasion, you may face hostility from the public.'

Sounds like a fantastic career opportunity, doesn't it? Considering an able young man could join the armed forces and begin on £16,000 a year. The truth is that traffic wardens are being paid more than our front line soldiers in war-zones. 

"It is possible that junior ranks could earn below the national minimum wage if they consistently worked 55 hours and above (aged 22 and over) or 65 hours and above (aged between 18 and 21). There are few if any working weeks as short as 55 or 65 hours on the front line" (Taken from the most recent Armed Forces Pay Review).

A soldier on a wage given one year after training earns £32.94 per day, and if on an active operation, receives a £6.02 allowance per day. 

Given the nature of conflict, a standard working day for infantry will be at least 16 hours. That equates to £2.83 per hour.

Why on earth do traffic wardens exist? Was there a time before when nobody was petty enough to suggest the law instigate guardians of the double yellow lines? Does nobody see what a waste of time and money these people are, who I often see walking in twosomes (just think, how many people are needed to do the job?), and why oh why can we not invest public money in some other, more fresh hair-brained scheme.

For these reasons, and many more personal ones, I proudly give the finger to any form of parking enforcement whenever I drive past in my 1.6 liter threat to their livelihood. 

Taste the Waste

Ever seen sandwiches being put in a large bin bag at the end of the day at a coffee shop? Or have you ever been round the back of Marks & Spencers on a Sunday evening?
Each year in Britain an estimated £20 billion of perfectly edible food is condemned as waste. That's shocking.
Everything from abnormally shaped carrots to gourmet paninis just a day out of date.
Incidentally, in a recent study by a United Nations focus group, a figure was given to the anual cost required to feed the 115 million people in Africa affected by starvation. Guess the answer.
With an anual £20 billion worth of food it is estimated that famine would be eradicated in Africa by 2015.
Obviously it's logistically impossible to export every scrap and morsel, but then again, as a country we waste a shameful amount.
Thanks to health and safety, the food has to be destroyed when its out of date.
Some cases are more understandable than others, such as high-risk food products like fish and eggs.
In my local coffee establishment, uneaten cheese and Marmite sandwiches are not just put in the bin, but taken straight to a disposal facility. Because they're slightly stale. Staff can take them home if the wish, but the gentleman huddled under the archway round the corner starves.
Where have our priorities gone?
What we need is some wealthy philanthropist to come and point out that change doesn't mean colour coded plastic bins.

Review Feature: 1991 Suzuki Vitara JLX

The Suzuki Vitara is empirical evidence that the best innovations are not always driven by necessity. I mean, what market can there be for a three door, 4 wheel-drive hatchback in a country where nearly eighty percent of the population lives in an urban area? Of course, Japan has hilly bits and heavy winters in the North, but conversely, less mud than the South Pole. It makes as much sense as Switzerland building ocean liners.

Great Britain has Land Rovers, America has Jeeps and Belgium has bicycles. A nation should specialize in vehicles appropriate to its topography, otherwise there is a massive danger of the end product being crap.

The Japanese, however, have the confidence to step out of the comfort zone and theorize what an off-roader should be like. Sterile testing treadmills in place of dirt tracks and suspension testing with hydraulic rigs. I imagine the Suzuki factory being very similar to Cape Canaveral. 

This all seems very soulless and unforgiving, but the truth is, Dr. Frankenstein has bought this monster to life in his lab, and it has a very big heart.

The 1.6 liter standard engine of the JLX produces an serviceable 48bhp, but what grabs you by the groin is the sheer torque produced. I am adamant this little car could tow Norway.

It is apt to talk about handling in regards to this car, as you do not drive it in the conventional sense. You reign it in, correct it as a customs officer would do his sniffer dog. You are a handler, not a driver. However, your charge is never unruly, and unfailingly obedient, to the extent that a symbiotic relationship is formed between man and car. Only when you realize this, do you fall in love with the Suzuki. And you fall hard.

With bullbars, obscenely wide alloy wheels (more cushion fo' the pushin, as Snoop Dogg would say), and enlarged wheel arches, the vehicle looks as if it is capable of domestic violence. But the ridges on the bonnet bethink a favored grandfather's laughter-lines, while the polymerized steering wheel offers the comfort of a childhood toy. 

With such thoughts making themselves felt whilst approaching a filthy 90-degree bend, at speed, dangerously alienates from the sheer stupidity and hazard posed by such driving. You become slumbered in the aura of the car, of which you put so much confidence, that there is no adrenaline to correct a botched bridge landing or counter the back wheels on a slide. But there is no danger, you can feel yourself and the Vitara instinctively and delicately veering out of harm's lurid grasp.

I feel disgusted at myself to even entertain thoughts of any other automobile, because I already have everything I need with this car. One day we will go our separate ways, but I will still call, and there will always be a place for the Vitara in what will then be my empty heart. 

The Recession Cooking Lesson and the Credit Crunch Lunch

I've never fully understood the stock exchange. As a child I thought a FTSE was an abbreviation of 'footsies' and that Dow Jones drew all the banknotes. 16 years later and not too much has changed. I do know what a DAX is and that wearing braces with trousers is still not cool. I also know that the global economy is buggered. Something to do with borrowing too much money and houses not selling. It's been like that for years up North, why is it only suddenly in the news? 

On a more practical note, what does this mean to people. It's all well and good saying that all these hypothetical billions of dollars aren't where they were meant to be in computerland, (I personally envision the inside of the stock-market looking like the film tron), but why do I still have a fiver in my back pocket? First, if you're interested, I'd like to share with you this fantastic Flickr group set up by The Guardian. It very much brings home the crisis in hypothetical computer-money land. Bad times.

So, we know the economy is crap and that for a lot of people this means less cash. This takes me on to my main point of the apparent lack of people who are able to competently cook. Bare with me. Cooking, to me at least, is one of the most fundamental life skills to learn. I would feel helpless if I had to live off grilled pizza. 

So, I'm going to have a completely open dig at every supermarket and/or 'lazy' food manufacturer and point out that the ready-meal deal is pants. They are grossly overpriced for the ingredients they contain, rarely taste like normal food and contain more salt than a 17th Century battleship. 

Of course, the average culinarily-challenged individual cannot survive solely on mylar-sealed sodium deposits. There's pasta, rice, Uncle Ben, tinned soups... oops. It is particularly difficult to escape the dreaded packet. But it is worth it. Its cheaper, its tastier, you know what's going into it. 

I'm not bashing everything that comes from a tin, packet or foil. Of course it's almost impossible to use ingredients that don't reach you in such a way. But it's the dependence I've seen that many people have on such things that frightens me. Save your money by learning to cook well. And don't live off toast, you'll hurt yourself. 

Many people regard Jamie Oliver as a complete cook-sucker, but he has done a fantastic amount to get the country cooking and eating healthily. Even gimmicks like Sainsbury's 'feed the family for a fiver' are welcome concepts of food economization which should be more encouraged. If I'd have eaten his school dinners as a kid there is a good chance I'd have experienced my first awkward pre-pubescent crush right there and then.

If I may, I would now like to get down and dirty with some figures. A 'Go3' cheese & tomato frozen omelette costs £1.29 from Tesco. First of all, why on earth you would buy a frozen omelette is beyond me. And secondly, you could make that fresh for around 60p. Its may seem like a small example, but I've had one of those frozen omelette and they're truly vile. Tesco, go and sit on the naughty step right now.   

Cooking in mass amounts is a great way to save a small fortune; a stew or bolognese frozen or split between several people can easily work out at less than a quid per (generous) portion. A sunday roast shared between housemates or the family can be made comfortably for £2 each with a decent piece of meat. That's a mere 13 pence more than a nasty Tesco lasagne. 

It's common sense, I know, but being dedicated to the cause is another thing altogether. Stick it to the man and buy from your local shops wherever possible. Tesco's will be fine if you don't shop there as much anymore, it won't cry or anything so don't worry. 

Get your meat from a butcher's shop, it's vastly cheaper and you can buy as much as you need so nothing is wasted. The same rule applies to green grocer's (these are a dying business, sadly). But even if you do stray down the supermarket route for regular shopping, head down to Aldi. They almost always have a great selection of fresh fruit and veg, including some specialist and seasonal. They also do some good meat, and, being Aldi, it's eye-wateringly cheap (on a particularly important side-note, they also have some really good imported beers).

And if you can, grow your own herbs. Not only is it really satisfying cooking with stuff you've grown yourself, but even with minimal care, a good herb box can keep your sauces at a Delia standard for years.

It's not all doom and gloom, however. In January this year Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families Ed Balls announced compulsory cooking lessons for 11 to 14 year olds as of 2011. Good move, Ed. At present, diet related diseases are costing the NHS an estimated 10 billion pounds per year. However, if these mandatory lessons are anything like those I  experienced at school, we will suffer a nation of cookie-guzzling reprobates who are particularly talented at making pizza bread. The government needs to man up and take responsibility. Don't teach them to cook, take away the convenience foods.

Badger out.

Taxi Rights for Revellers

I recently shared a cab with a few friends after a rather drunken evening. We were all in a good mood, as people often are after several shandies and a packet of cheese & onion crisps. During a gap in the jollities I caught a glimpse of the speedometer and casually remarked on the driver's 'enthusiastic' speed. 'Busy night' was his justification. I would like to make one thing perfectly clear; I do not drink drive. It is an idiotic and dangerous practice, and in my opinion those who choose to have that extra drink deserve to be served a chaser of twisted automotive parts. With that in mind, even after very many shandies, I could never speed through a semi-pedestrianized 30 zone at 45-mph. After a moments awkward silence, I remembered something my uncle, he himself owning a minicab business in West London, had told me. Don't pay. It seems petty on the surface, but it is a matter of principle. I keep to speed limits stringently on the road, and I see no reason why someone driving on my behalf should act differently. By violating road law he had effectively quashed his contract of service to me and my friends as customers. This particular driver did not like me.

It may be a tame example but it highlights a broader, more national problem. In London alone there are 2000 Taxi and Minicab operators (excluding Hackney Carriages), employing some 40,000 drivers. Unlike the rest of the UK, London public hire vehicles are regulated by the Public Carriage Office. Elsewhere, it is the responsibility of the local councils to police firms and drivers. There are of course incidents of violence and sexual abuse by taxi drivers becoming unfortunately frequent; many involving unlicensed drivers. This in has quite rightly led to a crusade on licensing enforcement. But it seems a shame that professional misconduct seems to be so overlooked. I have heard numerous accounts of friends who have been (forgive me for this), taken for a ride. The most common qualm is when a driver hailed from a rank and asks for the fare upfront. In a pre-booked private hire car this is perfectly acceptable. In a ranked taxi it is illegal. I have experienced this first-hand, and living in a rural location I was asked to leave the car once my fare had elapsed. In the middle of nowhere. Again, Illegal. By asking for my fare upfront the driver has effectively given me no power of contract for his service.  Of course, you can complain to the operating company, but again from experience, it does nothing. How much credibility does a drunken oaf who doesn't like speeding very much really have? Taxis are a very important service and I have met some fantastic drivers in my life, but there is mass public ignorance of  consumer rights of the passenger. That's something I would very much like to see change. I'm not thinking of anything on the scale of a huge billboard campaign with leaflets through every letterbox; I just want people to celebrate the fact that even though it is 3 o'clock in the morning and they smell of kebab and maybe wee, they still have rights.

Here are a few points which could be useful;

• Speeding, or any other deliberate infringement of the law whilst driving gives you the right to refuse fair on the grounds of misconduct
• You have the right to select any taxi on the rank (it's true)
• You have the right to go by any route you want
• Unless you have agreed a price, you don't have to pay up front

And this may seem like common sense, but if you do feel you need to make a complaint, get as many details of the driver and car as possible. If there is no driver ID card on display or he/she refuses to provide one, don't kick up a fuss... run away. And if things ever get tense, never threaten to call the police. That will make you really unpopular.

Badger out.