David Conway's Blog, page 6

On days when colour erupts

 

Colour has finally arrived in the garden, it won’t last long.

I am a poor gardener, when something works for me it is usually more luck than judgement.

But, on the days when colour erupts, it is wonderfully satisfying.

 

The rise of the female boss – Part Two

I have been reading Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg, the COO of Facebook. It’s about the lack of women in the boardroom, a subject I’ve been asked to speak on recently, and that I deal with in my book Cruel Sister.

She neatly defines the problem: women have more career opportunities than ever before, but are still hugely underrepresented at the highest levels in business and in politics.

Her solution (and she’s not alone in this) is for women themselves to be more assertive, and to fight their way through the glass ceiling. It’s the same solution that Katie Hopkins posited in our on-air debate.

I wonder if they’re right. In my view, attitudes won’t change much until companies are put under pressure by government to do more (Vince Cable is already threatening to do this).

During my lifetime attitudes to women have changed hugely. Today, few men would dare to suggest that women lack the ability to reach the highest levels, but a generation ago men openly derided the idea that women should be treated equally in the workplace.

There is something deeply satisfying about cooking on an open fire.

There is something deeply satisfying about cooking on an open fire. Perhaps because it connects us with a primeval past, or perhaps because, at its best, a barbecue can cook meat to perfection.

I lived in South Africa for a long time, where braaivleis has a mythic quality and is deeply imbued in the culture. On Sunday mornings we would blow on the embers of the previous night’s fire, and find just enough life in it to cook our breakfast. General Motors used to advertise their cars with the strapline: “Braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies, and Chevrolet”

Today was the first day of the year on which you could comfortably barbecue. Good food, good weather, good company, perfect.

 

I am addicted to fine coffee

My mornings begin with a ritual. I am addicted to fine coffee and I don’t start to function without it. I remember once staying in a bad pensione in Rome. It was close to the Roma Termini railway station, where hundreds of cheap hotels line the streets, and the rooms were small and squalid. Breakfast was served in a dark, sparsely furnished basement. It was only bread and coffee, but a silent woman (perhaps the padrona) made the coffee freshly in a small espresso machine. I remember my surprise when it turned out to be very good coffee.

I learned a lesson that morning: bad coffee is un-Italian. Italians will tolerate bad hotels, bad politics, bad traffic, bad housing, bad laws and bad television, but they won’t tolerate bad coffee. Years later, on an airplane, I found myself sat next to a Brazilian coffee executive. He told me that most of the finest Brazilian coffee beans are bought by Italian companies, the second rate ones are sold to other countries. A friend of mine, who had lived for years in Italy, once took me to an expensive French restaurant in Knightsbridge. When we ordered coffee after the meal, the waiter spoke to him apologetically in Italian.

‘What did he say?’ I asked, as soon as he was gone.

‘He apologised for the coffee,’ my friend replied. ‘He said that he comes from Naples and he knows how to make coffee properly, but the restaurant owner is French and doesn’t understand these things.’

Whenever I return to Italy I notice how Italians make time for coffee. There are 200,000 espresso bars in Italy. In Milan, at the height of the rush hour on the busiest railway stations, tiny booths served freshly made coffee to commuters who cannot begin their day without it. Coffee with milk is only drunk in the morning; Italians are horrified by the British/American habit of drinking cappuccino or latte all day.

I begin each morning by turning on the espresso machine and waiting about ten minutes, the time it takes to reach the right temperatures and pressures. Then I grind fresh Arabica beans, just enough to make one or two cups. Ground coffee loses its flavour almost immediately; if you buy ready-ground coffee you are wasting your money.

When I make mine correctly there is a light crema on the surface (a film of golden-brown froth). Then I fill a milk jug with semi-skimmed fresh milk, and gently apply steam, keeping the jug moving as I do so. The milk swells to twice its volume and, when carefully poured, it forms a pillow of smooth white foam through which I sip my coffee.

The day has begun; I turn on the radio and listen to the news.

Boris’s new skyscrapers, no consultation, no debate, no public plan.

New development around the Shell Centre

You may remember that when Ken Livingstone was Mayor of London he wanted to build gigantic office towers above London’s major railway stations. You may also remember that Boris Johnson opposed them, in fact, he promised to stop them.

So you might think that now Boris is Mayor they’ve been forgotten, well you’d be wrong. They’re being built over Victoria, Euston and Waterloo, even on the banks of the Thames.

No consultation, no debate, no public plan.

Read Simon Jenkins in the Evening Standard: http://www.standard.co.uk/comment/comment/simon-jenkins-where-is-the-vision-for-londons-skyline-8597630.html

Lifestyles of the rich and famous…

 

Only rarely does my life parallel those of the rich and famous. My wife and I spent our honeymoon at the fabulous Grand Hotel du Cap Ferrat on the Côte d’Azur (I should point out that it was April and we took advantage of a special pre-season 50% discount).

I understand that the heiress Tamara Ecclestone has booked the entire hotel for three days for her wedding to former City trader Jay Rutland this summer, with Elton John booked as the entertainer.

Nice one Tamara!

Saint Jean Cap Ferrat

A Boat Race themed bank…

 

This afternoon I found myself waiting in the reception area of a City investment bank.

I was delighted to discover it is a “rowing” themed bank.

I approve, when did banks stop being institutionally dull and bland?

Bright April sun and a gentle breeze

At last a day when you’d want to be on the river: bright April sun, a gentle breeze and the last of an ebb tide. Such a change from those bitterly cold winter days with a biting north-easterly wind that seemed to have no end. JP and I go out together in Scullduggery (don’t ask me why her name is spelled with a c and not a k, I didn’t notice it myself until I signed us out). She’s an old, but still good, wooden double built by Simms, and still a pleasure to row.

JP gently lectures me on my finish, still not as clean as it should be. He keeps good time at bow, occasionally cursing the launches which give us the benefit of their wash. Later we have to hold her up because a quad (from our own club) has stopped in front of us. JP turns and shouts, ‘Why the bloody hell did you stop in the middle of the river?’

‘We always stop here,’ Comes the gentle reply.

Between launches the water is calm and bright. When a coxed quad gets close to us JP tells me to put my back into it and leave the quad behind. It is no mean feat, but we manage it (my hands are blistered from the effort). We go as far as Mortlake, the full Boat Race Course; then we turn and come home. The Thames is beautiful in late Spring, the feeling of summer is close by.

An ufortunate picture of Mrs Thatcher

I’ve just come across this screen grab taken from an obituary of Mrs Thatcher screened by CNN.

Sir James Wilson Vincent Savile OBE KCSG was doing some important work for his favourite charity, the NSPCC.

Hows about that then?

She must be revolving in her grave!

Disorder in the court…

These excerpts are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts.

Apparently they are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while the exchanges were taking place:

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?

WITNESS: He said, ‘Where am I, Cathy?’

ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?

WITNESS: My name is Susan!

_______________________________

ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?

WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?

WITNESS: No, I just lie there.

____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth?

WITNESS: July 18th.

ATTORNEY: What year?

WITNESS: Every year.

_____________________________________

ATTORNEY: How old is your son, the one living with you?

WITNESS: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can’t remember which.

ATTORNEY: How long has he lived with you?

WITNESS: Forty-five years.

_________________________________

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?

WITNESS: I forget..

ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?

WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?

____________________________________

ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the 20-year-old, how old is he?

WITNESS: He’s 20, much like your IQ.

___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?

WITNESS: Are you shitting me?

_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?

WITNESS: Getting laid

____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: She had three children , right?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: How many were boys?

WITNESS: None.

ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?

WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?

____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?

WITNESS: By death..

ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?

WITNESS: Take a guess.

___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?

WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard

ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?

WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I’m going with male.

_____________________________________

ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?

WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.

______________________________________

ATTORNEY: Doctor , how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?

WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.

_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?

WITNESS: Oral…

_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?

WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 PM

ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?

WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.

____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?

WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?

______________________________________

And last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?

WITNESS: No..

ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?

WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.

ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?

WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.