Is it just me, or does everyone seem to view the 2012 Olympics as nothing more than a "prestige" journey into marketing?
Advertisers now effectively own the games and simply use it to sell their wares, from Mars bars to Motor cars they hit you with a constant barrage of promotional posters,TV ads, magazine articles and internet blurb. The Olympics in it's original form is, sad to say, dead.
I read the other day that BMW have supplied 4000 cars and chauffeurs to ferry "VIP's" around the various venues. Not Eco friendly or electric cars, but real full fat BMW's some M5's included....£40'000 each those!. So what happened to the Congestion charge, carbon footprints and all those Environmental issues that those in power have been banging on about for many years? Oh..wait a minute, that was just a ruse to extract extra "green" tax out of us wasn't it !....silly me!
Billions of Pounds spent, special "deals" for corporations and their cronies. This is not a peoples games, it is an exercise in promotion, sales and money making. The sports themselves are now nothing more than the vehicle that gets extra revenue for those who "support" it. The truth is that the Olympics as it was first established is now dead. The corporations and money men have taken it over little by little year upon year until the whole ethic is forgotten and sadly it is not the National flags and the pride of the athletes that is the main focus of the media, more the inevitable adverts which will be rammed down our throats, fill the gaps during the TV coverage and be splashed all over the stadium.
R.I.P Olympic games...After surviving thousands of years of wars, civil upheaval and disease they have finally been killed by 21st century commercialism .
In my garage on a rusty old nail fixed to a beam in the roof hangs a camouflage hat with drop down ear covers. On the front, faded throughout the last 25 years is a smiley face roughly applied with tippex....it used to belong to someone i had the privilege of knowing for a few short years..........
This person I knew was a lad named Rick Carolan who I first worked with at RAF Cranwell sometime in 1985. I remember he had a wicked sense of humour, was very fond of Status Quo and Dire Straits and loved nothing more than popping down the pub for a swift pint of Guinness...or two!. We often sat for hours in the Jolly Scotchman pub in Holdingham (Sleaford) drinking and playing a word association game. He always used to get the word "Kypermal" into the game at some point...he insisted that it was a word to describe a type of clay although subsequent inquiries into this fact have so far drawn a blank :-)
He was one of the first people that I knew to own a CD player (A black Panasonic Ghetto blaster if I remember correctly!).
We often had long beer fueled chats about deep and meaningful things to do with "Life, the universe and everything" , probably related to our shared love of the Douglas Adams classic book/series "The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Universe".
Rick also had a great interest and enthusiasm for the fantasy role play game World of Warcraft, although I am not sure it was the same as the video game of the same name, his involved painting small figures of warlocks,elves and ogres which he used to then keep safe in a roll up carry case.
One evening after a long night shift at RAF Cranwell I remember riding home on my moped, complete with poorly attached "L" plates. It was a very cold and frosty evening and the road was icy. Approaching the junction of the Cranwell village road and the A15 I could see a car coming along the road from Sleaford towards Lincoln. I began to slow but the bike began to slip and slide. Convinced that I would either fall into the path of the oncoming car or possibly stay upright and simply slide into it, i decided that the only option was to throttle up and speed across the cars path.
I felt the air against me as the car sped past,missing me by possible less than a foot. I stopped directly over the road from the junction to catch my breath then watched as the car did a U turn and came screeching up alongside me at which point a VERY irate driver lept from the car, grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and explained in rather colourful language just how close he had been to spreading me across the A15!
I told Rick on my arrival back at St Michael s Walk...he thought it was brilliantly funny and poured me a beer :-).
Sometime, perhaps weeks or months after that I remember us sitting down at the dining table and discussing (again!) some deep and meaningful subject. During the conversation Rick spotted some people,possibly Jehovah's witnesses, knocking on doors along the street. He laughed, pulled on his bullet belt and told me he knew how to stump them. "I am going to ask what age you are when you enter heaven". " I don't want to spent eternity as some old git" he said. Not sure now if they called, but I am sure if they did he would have made that enquiry.
Life at our daily job at RAF Cranwell went on...until................
In the early hours of the 23rd May 1987 my good friend and work colleague at RAF Cranwell Richard (Rick) Stephen Carolan died. He was a passenger on a Suzuki motorcycle being driven by his friend David Paterson when it was in collision with a Ford Capri containing 3 young men named Andrew Higgins, Michael Charge and Darren Charge.
One of my sergeants (Paddy?) with whom I worked in the Jet Provost Rectification section at RAF Cranwell, happened to be the duty SNCO on that day, and was called by the police to identify Rick and Dave's bodies which lay by the side of the road on the A15 in the vicinity of RAF Waddington.
I had "lived out" with Rick and Tony (another engineer from Cranwell). and we had a rented house in Sleaford which we had decided to get to escape the confines of the RAF base.
I had returned to my parents house in Mansfield on the 22nd as it was my 21st birthday and they had decided to take me home so that we could go out for a meal together to celebrate the occasion as a family.
They had picked me and my girlfriend (later wife) Teresa up from Sleaford on the Friday afternoon and we arrived in Mansfield an hour or so later. I called Rick when i was in Mansfield to remind him to video tape an episode of the Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy which was being screened later. I don't remember the content of the conversation but it was upbeat and he assured me that he would definitely remember to do so!.That was the last time I spoke to Rick as on my return back to Sleaford on the Sunday I was greeted by my father in law to be Tom, who, ashen faced and almost apologetically told me that Rick and his friend had been killed in a motorcycle accident in the early hours of Saturday. He had not called me with the news on the day to spare me the shock during my 21st birthday celebrations........I was shocked to learn the news.......
I made haste to my living out home not far from my girlfriends home and found some mates,Smurf,Ian and Tony, already there.
We spoke about the surreal feelings that we had as we tried to come to terms with the loss of our friend....and what the hell had happened on that road resulting in the accident which cost 2 young men,both under 20,their lives.
The next part of my story is somewhat blurred by time. Almost 25 years have passed and details are not so clear in my mind now.I will try to recount as much as possible, but it may be either in the wrong order or possibly factually incorrect....i will try anyway....
I think (but not sure) that it was during the week leading up to Rick's funeral myself and a few of the other lads were asked to clear out Rick's room in the house we rented. Doing this is an awful thing. You feel as though you are in some way intruding into someones private life, but we did it anyway, clearing out all his stuff and packing it into boxes ready to drive it over to his parents home in Southwell. His mum had asked if we wanted anything but to be honest it just felt wrong at that time to take any of his belongings, although years down the line i often thought of the stuff being sent to charity shops or the dump and it made me wish that maybe I had taken some when it was offered.
During the clean up of Rick's room I found a postcard with (i think..again!) a picture of Mickey mouse on the front. On the back it simply said "Mum to Rick, come in please".I guess that Rick ,like us all at some time during the fun and games of being an independent young adult,forgotten about his family....how poignant that short but to the point message now seemed.
We dropped off Rick's stuff at his parents house.There we met his younger sister Rose(?) and ate berries and cream with a cup of tea........what we spoke about i cannot recall, but i would imagine it was a meeting awkward and littered with emotions.
The day of the funeral, whilst myself and a couple of the lads where getting into our number one uniforms there was a knock on the front door. It was the television detector people explaining that they had had a tip off that we had a telly but no licence.....we explained that our friend was being buried today and that this was not a good time. I offered to let the chap in to check that we had not got a television but he declined, obviously sensing the the growing tension and anger in my voice. He left with an apology and we continued to prepare for the difficult day ahead....the large wooden cased television sat on the TV stand in the lounge as it always did.......
The funeral was held at the St Michael and all Angels Church at RAF Cranwell and I, along with several of my colleagues carried his coffin along his final journey first for the blessing and afterwards to the cemetery at St Andrews church in nearby Cranwell village. It was my first experience of losing a friend, someone in my peer group an immortal, as we all thought we where up until that day .
After the burial we made our way to the White Crane club at RAF Cranwell and there, each holding a pint of Guinness, we made a final toast to our mate Rick.............
I never did get to find what the outcome of the police investigation was. I left Cranwell in May the following year and got married that July.My wife and I then set up our new home in Wiltshire and from there we moved to Suffolk.
In 1996 I left the RAF and began my new life working in the NHS maintaining Life Support Systems.....i joke that after 12 years of maintaining weapons of war this is my payback, the flip side of the coin if you like, from supporting weapons of death to now maintaining machines of life....full circle i guess.
And what of Rick? Well as I now live only a few miles from his grave I try to visit a few times a year just to lay flowers and have a chat.....occasionally I take with me a can of Guinness and we share it, or perhaps it would be better to say that I drink half and he gets the other half poured onto the grave.....but i am sure he appreciates the gesture anyway :-)
Why did I decide to write this story?
To make sure that Rick Carolan is remembered as the truly decent bloke he was...and he was my friend.....
Post Note:
In a strange twist of fate, the day after I wrote this post I received a message via Facebook from a person I had not been in contact with for possibly 24 years.I simply got a text on New years eve 2011 which said "Andrew McDermott would like to add you as a friend". It was Smurf! Call it fate, but my first thought was that perhaps our mate Rick had a hand in reuniting us both after so many years!. We have since spoken a few times on the phone and via FB, and it's nice to be able to talk about our shared memories of those events all those years ago........Maybe one day we will get together, perhaps with a few other old mates, and have a drink in the Jolly Jock and as we raise our pints of Guinness in a toast we can let Rick know that during his 19 years on this world he made many lifelong friends.....lifelong...and after :-)
Crikey! I quite enjoy all this moaning lark!. Just to get it out of my system.Here is a list (in no particular order) of all the stuff that is really annoying the crap out of me at the mo!.
1) The X-Factor. How much more of this crap are we expected to take ? Ok, so some smart arse is bound to now comment that "you have an Off button, so use it!". But when you are in a large family environment with only one main tele it is inevitable that you will "happen upon" something related to this awful show at some point.
With all the repeats,spin off's and the like, this is even more of a risk that I take every time i have the remote in my grubby hand.
It never ceases to amaze me how many total tw@ there are in the UK.Everyone thinks that they are the most amazing performer ever discovered, although even for the few that make it through to "Boot Camp" (itself a complete bastrdisation of a name that is assoscitated with hardship and discomfort, not staying in a pop stars mansion for a week!).
X Factor does prove one thing though...that good singers are ten a penny and that its not the talent...its the hype that gains them success!.
My Gran died last week.She was aged 95, but would have been 96 on the 9th May.Her name was Clarice Annie Nash Riley (Nash was her first married name,Riley her second).She was a great person.Kind,gentle and all that knew her will miss her greatly. She lived (During my lifetime !) at 66 Slant Lane,Beech court (flats),30 Northfield Park,9 VAle Court and lastly at a residential home (the name of which eludes me !) on Berry Hill in Mansfield. I will be attending her funeral tomorrow and at which i will be reading a little something that i wrote a few days after her death.It is simply a "little list" of things that i remember about her, and things that i am sure others will be able to relate to also.This is what i will be reading:
Gran
96 years is a long time. But to best illustrate this time span perhaps a few events during those years would put 96 years into some sort of perspective…so here are some facts:
Gran was born on the 9th May 1912, barely 5 weeks after the loss of a gentleman named Robert Scott, better known as “Scott of the Antarctic” during his ill fated expedition, and only 3 weeks after the sinking of that most famous, but short lived of ships, the RMS Titanic. She lived through 2 world wars. One as a child aged 2, and the next as a young woman of 27. She was born before the Royal Flying Corps came into existence, and for that matter she was at school before the RAF was founded in 1918. Radio transmissions across the Atlantic only took place in 1907, 5 years before she was born, and Television was not even invented until she was 13 years old!
A life lived within a very active time in history I’m sure you would agree?
I myself have so many memories of Gran that to relay them all to you now would take far too long. So I thought perhaps I could just share a few of the most poignant ones that I have of her.
Sauce sandwiches and steak and kidney puddings served regularly at 66 Slant Lane. The ever ready hanky to wipe dirt from small grubby faces (normally mine or Lisa’s!) The sound of the radiogram (as MP3 players used to be known) playing Leapy Lee singing “little arrows” or perhaps a track titled “a walk in the black forest” by Horst Jankowski.
Her pride in keeping her own teeth well into her 90’s, and then only losing one after an unfortunate incident with a plum stone!
The story she told me of the doll that she was given by her teacher for her being the best behaved and smartest little girl in her class. She won it through her own determination and hard work.
Stories of holidays in Ilfracombe and numerous dancing contests, some won, some lost but all wonderful fun.
She was a great dancer in her time, I remember as a child watching her gliding across the dance floor of the Legion in woodhouse, whilst I would sit with a packet of crisps and a bottle of pop, or occasionally with a tub of mushy peas from the servery window.
Lavender, she always loved the smell of lavender, and she loved to tend her flowers in the gardens of the homes that she lived in.
I remember many years ago sitting on a deck chair with her one evening in the garden at 30 Northfield Park and as we stared up to the night sky together we saw a shooting star. She said I should make a wish upon it. I can’t remember what I wished for at the time but if it was today I would wish to see her wonderful smile just once more, gran had a beautiful smile.
Fancy dress costumes made of crisp packets.
Me getting into trouble for pulling on the alarm cord in the bathroom and causing the warden some concern after I thought it was a light switch….well it was an easy mistake to make!
Having my picture taken with her in front of an DeHavilland Vampire jet gate guard at RAF Swinderby after my passing out parade….was that really 25 years ago ?
Popping around to see her after work and having a cup of tea, she telling me how I always looked tired and me telling her that I was fine and that the grey hair was hereditary. You get it from your children!
I laugh when I recall her story about the kids she had to sort out when she lived in Northfield Park. After seeing a group hanging around a post-box she (pointing her walking stick at each one in turn) suggested that any idea’s that they may have about putting matches in the post-box should be forgotten and that they should clear off. I can’t help but think that there was a fairly good chance that they had not even considered the very thought of setting fire to the royal mail…until a helpful old lady had given them the thoughtJ.
Her generosity, her support for the air ambulance, her donations to fund the repair of St Edmunds church clock and her purchase of an oral scope for the Robin Hood children’s ward at Kings Mill all bear witness to her generous nature, for although she was not rich herself, she was always keen to help others as best she could.
We Will all miss gran .She was a very special person to all of us in many different ways, and it always seemed that she would be with us forever. Now that she’s gone all we have is the memory of her, but we also have the knowledge that we had the pleasure of knowing her, she was a very special lady who’s life was long and sometimes hard, but who kept her dignity until the end.
God bless you Gran.
Clarice Annie Nash Riley. 9th May 1912-26th April 2008. R.I.P
