Click here to search commentonline

Hoots & Havers - November 07

ONE of the great heroes of our time is Michael Forbes, the owner of 23 acres in the midst of the spectacularly tacky golf development in Aberdeenshire proposed by Donald Trump.

He won’t sell his patch although, as a salmon fisherman and quarry worker, he’s not a rich man. But he has the smarts to realize that there’s more to life than money which is something that Trump, clearly baffled by his unwillingness to genuflect before increasingly large heaps of dollars, fails to understand.Trump seems to think that he’s doing Scotland a favour with what has been described as his £1b investment, and is so huffy at the lack of gratitude shown that he may dump it somewhere else. One can but hope.

In a much smaller way there seems to be a parallel in the Etape wrangle. Those who reckon they will make money from the event are in favour of giving it another go. Those who reckon it is merely disruptive are against it. What went wrong last time was that it was imposed upon the locality by the salaried officials of P&K’s Department of Economic Development and Infrastrucure without any sensible discussion beforehand and this, inevitably and rightly, got up the noses of those whose found their liberty to enjoy a summer Sunday was forcibly curtailed. And the businesses that lost custom weren’t too chuffed either.

Another such mass bicycle excursion in 2008 may well be of great benefit to Highland Perthshire. And you would think its promoters would be delighted at the level of interest shown in it and welcome the opportunity to trumpet its advantages. But the shifty way in which the next event seems to be slithering its way forward seems little short of bizarre.

Have the Council and the Etape’s other promoters learned nothing? Even the most elementary understanding of public relations should make it obvious that, after last time, they must ensure full and transparent consultation with everyone with an interest in the event, as well as a full and transparent analysis of the social and economic impact of Etape 2007.

If they haven’t done the necessary research, then the whole thing is based on bullshit. And they show contempt towards those who raise legitimate concerns. They won’t be running a piss up in my brewery.

* * * * *  

THE SLAUGHTER of many thousands of badgers in south west England is being considered to halt the spread of tuberculosis in cattle. The expected lines of battle are being drawn up. Farmers point to the massive cost and the disruption to their enterprises from the disease, testing for it and its spread. The wildlife lobby consider a cull of such a glamorous species unthinkable.

Attempts to eradicate the ailment first started in this country in 1915 and its alarming spread in the past few years has coincided with the growth in badger numbers. It is beyond sensible argument that badgers are a significant vector in the increasing prevalence of bovine TB. In the south west where there are badgers there’s TB. Where there aren’t there isn’t.

Bovine TB is a thoroughly nasty disease, but it’s not the effect on cattle that is the main problem. It can be transmitted to people. I knew a man whose spine was seriously damaged in his boyhood by cattle transmitted TB. It left him severely and permanently handicapped which may not have made him totally disinterested as a county pest officer in the early days of badger culling. But how many badgers should be sacrificed to prevent such tragedies? I don’t know the answer, but I hope that it I does not become a problem that Scots have to address.

 * * * * *  

AFTER the 1st World War, entrepreneurs bought up surplus army vehicles and turned them into charabancs that were used to convey the urban masses to the countryside at weekends.

At Maidenhead, one of the destinations of choice for Londoners, lived a well-known simpleton beggar, who would greet the tourists as they debouched from the vehicles. If offered the choice between a gold sovereign and a sixpenny bit, he would invariably choose the sixpence. How they would laugh! The sadistic would hide the tanner and try to persuade him to take the sovereign and he would become more and more agitated until they relented and gave him what he wanted. He would mew with delight and hug the silver to his breast, casting fearful glances at the gold coin waved in front of his eyes.

One visitor waited until the crowd departed and the beggar was shuffling away and confronted him. ‘Why,’ he asked, ‘do you not take the more valuable coin?’ The beggar replied ‘I come here every Sunday, and I take many sixpences. If I took one of the sovereigns, how many more sixpences do you think I would be offered?’