Welcome to Dick's Blog

Sticking up for the little guys...

Wednesday 20 July 2011

15. Dick the Hack

Hello I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

My new job as a hack is going well, thanks to my visit to the Job Centre.  I've got a lot of competition from ex-News of the World hacks but hey, I'm an ex fighter pilot so I can lick anyone.

I'm still in search of the Big Society and hope to uncover it through my pages.  With your help we might discover it together.

Anyway, down to the nitty gritty - I'm releasing some stuff here that's been overlooked by my editor so hope you enjoy the private view.

I take a look at a new novel, 'Rebekah' an update of Daphne du Maurier's classic - Rebecca.....


"Last night I dreamt I went to Wapping again" is the opening line of ‘Rebekah’, the long awaited update to Daphne du Maurier’s novel ‘Rebecca’. In the story, ‘Rebekah’ recollects her past, telling the story of her rise and fall.
After meeting a wealthy Australian, Rupe de Murdoch she agrees to work for him, and accompanies him to his mansion, the beautiful News of the World HQ in Wapping.
But, Rupe’s daughter, Lizzy ‘Danvers’ de Murdoch tries to undermine her, suggesting that she will never retain the urbanity and charm of the Newspaper. Whenever she attempts to make changes, Lizzy describes the demise of former editors. Rebekah carries on regardless.
But she commits one faux pas after another, becoming convinced that Rupe regrets his impetuous decision to employ her and is too deeply in love with his empire to care about her. The climax occurs at the Newspaper’s annual dinner. Lizzy manipulates her into crimping and dyeing her hair red after showing her a picture of Mick Hucknall who, unknown to her, Rupe hates with a passion.
Then, in the early morning hours, a media storm that had been building over the Wapping estate leads to an absolute 'train wreck'. Hugo Grunt, an actor who had been researching the work of the Newspaper for a role in ‘Milly Dowler’s Diary’ uncovers Rebekah’s ruthless hacking.
Lizzy then reveals her contempt for Rebekah by encouraging her to commit suicide by jumping into a paper shredder, but is thwarted at the last moment by a knock on the door by the Metropolitan Police.
Rupe confesses the truth. How his concern for his flagship newspaper is nothing but a sham; how from the very first days of his take over, he loathed it. It was a cruel and selfish rag that believed it was the voice of the people and a paragon of virtue. In a violent rage he tries to axe it to death and dump it down a sewer.
But it refuses to die as devoted editors resurface in an attempt to tarnish him.
Then the newspaper is revealed to have been suffering from a cancerous condition and would have expired within a few months anyway. Rupe suddenly feels a great sense of foreboding and insists on driving through the night to return to Wapping. However, before he comes in sight of his empire, he sees a red glow on the horizon, Rebeka’s fiery red hair lit by camera wielding paparazzi as she is led away in handcuffs.
With Rebekah imprisoned Rupe and Lizzy return to foreign exile.

Thursday 9 June 2011

14. Dick and the Dancer

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick
As the bus made its way into the heart of the city I was struck by the dilapidation of the buildings along the way. There were closed shops with sad facades, relics of a more prosperous past. I recognised the spot where the West End Bazaar had once stood, where Billy and his sister bought their catapults and pea shooters on their way to the park. Now, in its place was a boarded up café and above it a sign which read 'Beryl Bites'. The apostrophe 's' on Beryl had long been removed.

Some of the empty buildings had been cleverly disguised with bright posters depicting happy traders. There was a fat butcher brandishing a joint of meat, a greengrocer holding a cucumber and a bunch of bananas and a barber grinning menacingly like Sweeny Todd behind his next client. "Why" I thought, "would people come here to shop if the shops weren't selling anything except a vision of what they could be selling if they were open?"
The bus stopped and I stood up. I let the young lady go before me, to demonstrate to the driver that he had not cornered the market on chivalry. She smiled in thanks and as we stepped off the bus I asked her if she could tell me where the job centre was.
"It's just across the road mate," she said pointing a long red talon in the direction of an ugly sixties edifice "what are you then, an army boy?"
The fact that I was wearing a blue uniform obviously escaped her so, not wanting to go into a long explanation I said I'd signed out of the forces and was now hoping to sign up to the Big Society.
"Well, bloody good luck mate. My last fella was in the Paras, he did Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan, came back, got kicked out by his missus, couldn't find a job, started doing crack, then he found God and now he's a youth leader in Peckham."
"Wow, that's quite a CV." I said. "What about you? What do you do for a living?"
She leaned her head forward then swung it back to let her black hair sweep over her shoulders. "I'm a pole dancer mainly but I do a bit of lap dancing as well." She took a long drag on her cigarette.
I had not detected a Scandinavian accent but I was impressed all the same that an old English tradition had found its way north of the Arctic Circle. It brought back memories of our village fairs. The Maypole festooned with silken ribbons as dancers and musicians celebrated the blossoming Spring and of Billy tying his sister so tightly to the pole that she passed out.
As her fag end fell at my feet I asked, "Is there much of a call for dancing around poles? I'd have thought it was a very seasonal occupation."
"No mate. It's all year round. Here, take one of my cards, you'll have to come along." She rooted about in her clutch bag and gave me a small piece of card. "Good luck with the job hunting"
She turned on her stilettos and skipped across the pavement into the Pound Shop. I looked at her card. It was glossy and black with a photograph of a shiny piece of scaffolding pole from which was hanging a gravity defying and half naked old slapper. It read 'The Black Mamba Club'.
As I placed the card in my pocket I couldn't help feeling a tinge of sadness. I suppose that traditions have to evolve over time but I'm not sure that my grandmother would have been dancing for joy around that pole, at least not before a stiff gin and tonic and with a team of paramedics on hand.
This is Dick Everyman signing out.

Wednesday 11 May 2011

13. Dick goes to town

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

Patch and I considered what the Eggheads had said about using all the resources available to make our way in the Big Society.  "I think it's time to explore, " I said to him "I mean we've both been through a pretty rough patch Patch, all considered."
After he'd stopped licking his scrotum he gave me his full attention.  "What do you suggest then?"
"I think we should head straight for the city and see what's on offer."
Patch flopped down in his basket with a sigh. "Do you mind if I stay put, I'm all beat up?"
It was true he looked a little tired and so I agreed he should stay at home.  I was however slightly concerned that this could become a habit and I'd be left holding the baby or puppy or whatever the term was when talking about a lazy mutt.
I hopped on the bus...

And so I hopped on the bus and headed for the bright lights.

I was astounded at the price of a one way ticket for a two mile journey.  I politely informed the driver that in the old days £1.80 would have bought me a night out at the Odeon, a bag of fish and chips on the way home and I'd still have change for a bottle of sterilised milk in the morning. He just shrugged his shoulders and jolted the bus forward so that the inertia sent me flying down the centre aisle towards my very expensive seat.  I had not experienced such a G-force since my happier Harrier jet days.  Not bad for a clunky old diesel engine though I thought.

As people got on I could see that the white haired ones weren't putting any money in the slot.  Instead they had some kind of pass which they waved in front of the driver who ignored them before trying out his G-force experiment again to help them to their seats. At the next stop a very attractive young lady in a mini skirt mounted the step.  She smiled and paid her fare.  The driver smiled back and said hello before turning around in his seat to make sure she had found somewhere comfortable to take the weight off her stilettos.  Once she was firmly seated he smiled at her again before moving gently forward and we continued into the city.  Fares had risen but chivalry at least was not dead.

I looked around at my silent fellow travellers and detected a kind of sadness.  They all looked like they wanted to be somewhere else and not on the number 11.  Perhaps they were on a quest for a better life or maybe they were just going shopping? Whatever had caused them to mount this joy-mobile I did not know, but I for one could hardly wait to get off to find out more about the Big Society.

This is Dick Everyman signing out.

Tuesday 3 May 2011

12. Dick, the terrorist and a deaf dog

Hi I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick.

With their new found brain power the Eggheads kept me awake all night with their excited chatter.  They didn't wake Patch though, being half deaf he had devised a way of sleeping on his good ear to block out any intrusive noises.  In short he was a pretty useless watch dog but his companionship made up for all his other faults.  I switched on the radio and heard something about a massive international terrorist being killed and how the world was now going to be a safer place.  If society had to depend on Patch then they could forget that notion I thought.  But I was intrigued all the same.

I asked the Eggheads about him and they filled me in on all the gory details.  After a good half hour's chat 44 Lupin Drive had never felt so safe and Billy Boulton was a real pussy cat in comparison to the mass murdering terrorist they told me about.  The Eggheads then went on about democracy and freedom and the way in which a thing called 'social media' was uniting people and communities around the world and causing them to challenge their leaders to change society.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind
They spoke of a man called Mahatma Gandhi who used a campaign of non violence to finally win his country's independence until he was himself assassinated by people who believed in armed struggle.

He once said "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" which made me think about the man they had just killed.  "Social media" said the Eggheads, "lets the world see everything and nothing at the same time..."

I pondered for a while and thought of poor Patch, "Being half deaf," I responded "means you have to listen harder too." 

I thanked the Eggheads for their wisdom and made myself a comforting cup of tea and some toast.  Was this what the Big Society is all about then?  I was confused, it was one thing bringing down governments and fighting tyrants but becoming a volunteer for the Women's Institute was quite another thing in my book unless perhaps they had an armed wing?

This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Friday 29 April 2011

11. The Eggheads get their brains together

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

The farm was now behind us...
The farm was now behind us, but the road back home proved a hard one.  Yvette always said that before you embark on any journey you need to choose your travelling companions very carefully.  She was right.  Patch stopped to sniff at every tree along the route remarking on all the scents he came across.  "Huh, Snicker's been here, he's a chocolate labrador.  He lives over at Long Lake so don't know what business he's got around here.."  and so he went on and on.  But his own foxy smell was becoming more pungent and I told him he'd have to have a hose down if he was to meet the Eggheads. 

"I haven't had a bath in two years!  If this is the way of the Big Society I don't want any part of it."  He was adamant.  But so was I.  "Look Patch.  You either smarten up your act or you go back to the old shack.  I want us to have a clean start so think about it.  Just because you're down it doesn't mean you have to be out as well."  The closer we got to the house the more he started to come around to the idea of a good soak.

And so after a short while we were back at Lupin Drive where Patch dutifully stood under the hose pipe for his spring clean.  After a hearty shake he accompanied me into the kitchen where the Eggheads gave a cheer at the site of their new eggs. 

"Welcome back Dick!"  They said as I introduced them to my new companion. 
"This is Patch, he's an unemployed sheepdog, and disabled too as he's only got one ear."  The Eggheads looked at him with a great deal of sympathy.  I carried on filling their empty crowns as he returned their gaze and said, "I don't consider myself disabled, I mean I don't walk on my ear do I?"

As I put the final egg in place the surge of brain power was almost tangible.  They muttered amongst themselves then said excitedly, "Patch, you will need to learn how to use the system."
"System?  What system?" he asked.

Dick crowns the last Egghead
"The system that is in place to support all members of society be they black, white, gay or straight, old, young, able bodied or disabled."
Patch scratched his head.  "Well I'm certainly black and white but my sexual preferences are definitely not open for discussion."
I stepped in, sensing a long debate.  "You don't have to tick every box Patch.  Just one from the list of criteria will do.  They are just saying that all men, and dogs are equal."
He relaxed slightly and seemed satisfied with my explanation. 


"Well that's all right then, all things being equal." 
The Eggheads breathed a collective sigh of relief and continued.
"You must learn about these criteria.  These are the tools of the Big Society and so your disability may be a blessing in disguise."
I liked their reasoning. "So tell me Eggheads, where do we start?  How do we unlock the secrets of the Big Society?"
"Get out there and explore. Use the system and all of its resources and soon you will reveal the bigger picture."
A wave of excitement passed through me.  My quest was now underway.  Like Professor Cox I was on the verge of understanding a new system, a brave new world lay ahead of me, and Patch.  Soon I would discover the Big Society in all of its magnificent glory.
"Thank you Eggheads, thank you for your wisdom."

This is Dick Everyman signing out.

Wednesday 20 April 2011

10. Dick meets some chicks

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

Patch and I were almost ready set off on our road to discovery but first we had to collect the eggs for the Eggheads.  If any answers to the Big Society were to be found then this was our best hope.

He told me what happened next after being kicked into the stream by Billy Boulton.  After floating for some distance he found himself washed up next to a field full of sheep.

"I couldn't believe it Dick," he said "It was my Eureka moment, I knew straight away that I'd found my true vocation."

I consoled Patch as best as I could...
He made his way to the farm house where a friendly farmer took him in in exchange for a bit of work on the farm, mainly working with the sheep or chasing away trespassers.  The farmer also had a massive dairy herd which needed managing too.  They got along fine, enjoying each other's company and working through the seasons to keep the farm profitable.  But it all changed one day with a letter from something called Tesco.  It was a big organisation that bought milk from all the farmers in the region and sold it to their customers.  They decided to pay less for the farmer's product and the farm eventually fell into ruin.

I consoled Patch as best as I could and assured him that things could only get better with the Big Society.  We would all be better off with nothing to worry about in future.  Tesco would surely start to help farmers now and everything would turn out fine.

"Come on old boy, let's go and get those eggs."  With that we left the shack and made our way to the chicken runs.

So there we were.  The two musketeers on our way to seeking our fortunes.  I breathed the cool morning air deep into my lungs and felt amazingly invigorated.  To have a fellow traveller to share my experiences with was a huge bonus and together we could find the answers to the Big Society.
The oldest hen came forward...

The chickens greeted us with a few clucks and agreed to let us have half a dozen eggs.  We chatted for a while and I was keen to have their thoughts on the Big Society.

The oldest hen came forward.  "I don't think we are typical," she said.  "You see this is a bit of a matriarchal set up.  We dispensed with the rooster some time ago and as a result of that we have a perfectly run society."

I scratched my head. "You mean you don't need men?"

She turned to her sisters as they laughed out loud.  "No dear.  Men are too controlling, too self obsessed and when they get power they mess everything up completely."  She scratched the ground hard as if to underline her comments.  The other hens nodded in agreement.

Remember that small is beautiful...
"Big societies are usually run by Mr Bigs dear, otherwise known as ego maniacs.  Remember that small is beautiful after all."  She beckoned me to follow her into the coup.  "Now come and get those eggs or they'll soon be hatched!"  She giggled once more.

The only maniac I knew was Billy Boulton and the thought of him sent a shiver down my spine.  Just as I climbed into the pen I saw Patch contentedly rolling in a pile of fox waste.

The journey was going to be a tough one.

Wednesday 13 April 2011

9. Dick meets Patch

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

As I walked up the road I took in my surroundings and saw the familiar fields and farms in the distance.  Like the house in Lupin Drive nothing much had changed in the last 43 years except that now there was a new ruling elite with this strange conundrum called the Big Society.

My friends the Eggheads gave me answers or made observations on most subjects.  They even empathised with my situation and my long incarceration in the attic.  They quoted a famous black man called Nelson Mandela who lost his freedom for many years. "There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered."  It made me think, though perhaps too much.  
Who or what was inside?

Maybe I should just accept the Big Society even though I don't understand it.  If I had been free I would not now be tormented by the changes in myself and instead get on with living my life without questioning everything around me.  It was then that the shack came into view.  Beyond which stood the chicken coops, my real destination.  But there was something drawing me to the shack.  Some strange compulsion to enter.  Who or what was inside?  The Eggheads would have to wait a little longer for their eggs.

I crossed the rough ground along the overgrown path towards the unloved building.  The rusty tin roof still provided some protection from the elements but nature was slowly encroaching all around.  Time had not been kind and the neglect became more and more apparent as I drew closer.  


I saw something move in the corner
For some reason I knocked on the door, as if expecting to encounter someone, but I knew I was being polite for no reason.  I walked inside.  Rays of sunlight cut through the dark interior illuminating the walls and floors.  A metal wood burning stove and a few broken chairs filled some of the floor space.  On the walls were dusty shelves containing iron pots, forgotten pickle jars and a couple of chipped tea pots.  I saw something move in the corner.  It was a dog.  It stretched and yawned then sat up in surprise when it saw me.


Hello, boy "I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick."

The dog looked forlornly at me and then I recognised him.  It was Billy's old dog, Patch.  


"Patch is it really you?"  He studied me carefully.  "You remember me don't you?  We used to belong to Billy."


His eyes lit up and he turned towards me, slowly revealing his face.  To my horror he only had one ear and his stuffing was showing through in places.


We sat and talked for hours...
"Hello Dick, " he said "It's been a long time,"


We hugged each other and for the first time in 43 years I experienced true warmth and friendship.  We sat and talked for hours about the Boultons and especially Billy who had thrown Patch into a stream and watched him float away.  But alas, he had no news of Yvette.  Still we had been reunited and to my astonishment Patch was as intrigued as I was about the Big Society.  Through the barking network he had heard tales of dogs being fed inferior food as if their owners were cutting back.  Of being taken out less with cars sitting on drives and used only for essential journeys. He had heard of family feuds involving shotguns or divorces and worst of all of dogs being kicked out into the street to fend for themselves.

"Dick, if there is a Big Society, we have to find it".  My poor emaciated companion was in need of help and so we decided to join forces in the quest.


"I can't believe I've found you Patch," I said "but first we've got to get some eggs."


This is Dick Everyman signing out...







Monday 11 April 2011

8. Dick takes a long dark road

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

I imagined giant Lenin-like effigies...
My encounter with the political campaigner had left me non the wiser about the Big Society.  If anything I became slightly scared of it with his 'esteemed leader' that 'giant in society' whose visions would change the world we live in.  I imagined giant Lenin-like effigies raised up on the front of public buildings.  I saw them waving at us, the new model citizens, as we went about volunteering and singing songs about the joys of social mobility and the attributes of our glorious leaders.  We're we destined to become insignificant players in some kind of Big government plan?

But I had to shake off these negative thoughts and awful visions if I was to find the truth.  The Eggheads needed my help to fuel their brains so my quest for eggs was more important at this moment in time.  I remember the farm down the road where Mrs Boulton used to take young Billy and his sister Brenda, to see the goats and the chickens and the time he threw me into the pig slurry.  It would be a difficult journey but I was on a mission and needed to focus on the future.  The Eggheads would surely come up with more answers once I had met their request.

Perhaps Billy had broken all the glass...
As I slipped through the back door and down the garden the coast seemed clear.  At least the cat was nowhere to be seen.  Over the fence, where once there stood a magnificent green house there was now a polythene tunnel. Perhaps Billy had broken all the glass?  But, the familiar white cottage which lay at the end of the lane to the farm was still there and that brought me some comfort.

I felt incredibly alone and decided that on my return, should I return, I would make enquiries about Yvette.  Maybe the Eggheads had seen her or perhaps had news.  I refused to believe that she could simply disappear from my life.  Yes, it had been 43 years since I had last seen her but surely, if she had survived Brenda's abuse she would also be looking for me?  I felt a tear in my eye, but undaunted I made my way through the gate.

Trees loomed above me...
The road ahead was darker than I remember.  Trees loomed above me and the farm seemed a long way off.  All around me I could hear the sound of bird song which spurred me onwards.  If the Big Society had any heart and soul, I thought, then people would have more opportunities to capture these simple pleasures.  Unlike the decades that had gone before there would be no working long hours, or scratching for a living or the fear of poverty.  People would not have to worry what lay ahead for their children, as Mr and Mrs Boulton had done as they worked day and night to keep their family together.

As I got closer to the farm I felt more and more positive about the way ahead but beneath it all I hoped that the 'esteemed leader's' vision was not a future nightmare.

This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Saturday 9 April 2011

7. Dick and the Beanstalk

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

The little guy was very friendly and seemed like someone I could relate to, plus like me he enjoyed his tea weak with no sugar, so we already had something in common.  I decided that I would leap straight in and ask him about the Big Society.

He spluttered into his teacup
"Ah," he said "The Big Society, a lot of people have been asking me about that."  He took a sip of tea before continuing.  "The Big Society was invented by our esteemed leader in answer to all the previous failings in society."
"Wow," I said "That's a biggy, so he's going to invest lots of money into society to make it better."
He spluttered into his teacup, then composing himself again he said "Er, no. Not exactly."
I was confused.  "I was always taught that to get something out of something else you had to invest in it."  I waited for his answer.

He studied his cup long and hard as if the answer would come floating to the top.
"It's not about money."  He shuffled uncomfortably
"How can you invest then if it's not about money?"
"It's about people investing more of their time and energy into things that the government previously invested their time, money and energy into."
His logic defied me. "How can they do that if they are at work?"
"They'll volunteer, won't they?  They'll take care of the sick and the elderly." There was frustration in his voice and I started to dislike him a little.
"You're not telling me anything about the Big Society, you're just saying people are going to volunteer all over the place after they've been at work all day.  They are going to be too knackered."
He frowned.  "The Big Society is not just about volunteering, it was dreamed up by a man of great vision a giant in society."
"I'm unemployed, how's he going to help me?" I decided to get down to brass tacks.
"You can move somewhere else to find work, the Big Society will make people more socially mobile."
"Like Dick Whittington?"  My retort seemd to throw him.
"Yes, if you like, like Dick Whittington."
"So I can walk to London with my mangy cat and seek my fortune?"
He stood up.  "If you are going to be sarcastic I'm leaving."
"Good," I said "and you can tell your giant I don't want paying in beans either, some of us need to earn a living!  We can't spend all day delivering picnic baskets to other people's grandma's."
He left without finishing his tea.

"Bravo! Bravo!"
A loud shout came from the corner of the kitchen.  It was the Eggheads
"Bravo! Bravo! Well done Dick!"  
I thanked them for their support but they could see I still hadn't solved the puzzle of the Big Society.
"Where do I go from here?" I said, shaking my head.
They muttered between themselves.  "Dick, in order to answer your question we need more eggs."
"I'm sorry Eggheads I don't understand"
"We have only been operating on a third of our thinking capacity.  Four of us have no Eggs."
They were right, only two of them had any eggs.  "Leave it to me," I said "I will go out and find some."
With their extra thinking power the Eggheads would surely answer the riddle of the Big Society.
"And Dick," they said "make sure they are free range."

This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Friday 8 April 2011

6. Dick gets tuned in

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick.

My search for answers on the TV was not exactly fruitless but I am still ignorant about the Big Society.  At the moment it seems like I'm searching for something really intangible.  It's as if someone has loaded bucketfuls of hot air into a wheel barrow and dumped them on my doorstep.  But it can't be invisible.  I actually saw the leaflet when I was on that scrap heap and it spelled out a vision for the future.  It talked about 'celebrating' diversity and 'embracing' culture like there was going to be a really big party or something with bunting, cup cakes and silly hats.  Up to now though I've not heard any singing, or seen any dancing.  All I've seen is the same stuff I saw before my incarceration.

"You're just a fraudster aren't you?"
This morning I found an old radio.  The Eggheads said I had to find out things for myself and so I switched it on.  There was a kind of loud and angry talking thing set to an incessant beat which made my ears ache.  When it had finished the presenter said it was by a wrapper.  It obviously wasn't a sweet wrapper because he was shouting about hoes or some other kind of garden tools he'd got in his backyard.  I decided that it wasn't for me and tuned in to another station.

There was no music.  Instead a man was being interviewed by another man called Jeremy about something the first man had done in a house that wasn't his proper address.  He called it his second home and then said he needed it to be close to his job.  Then it turned out that he was an MP and Jeremy got very angry and said "You're just a fraudster aren't you?" To which the other man said "Certainly not!" and "Please get your facts straight, I was entitled to it." Then Jeremy said that he was clearly an opportunist.  The first man was struggling to answer the questions which were being spat at him like bullets from a spitfire until he could answer no more.  At the end of the interview Jeremy politely thanked him for coming to the studio and I imagined he left with his tail stuck firmly between his legs.

It was then that I heard a familiar theme tune.  It was the Archers!  I could not believe my ears.  Like a cockroach after a nuclear war it had survived all of this time.  The Bull was still there and so were the Grundy's but it now had a woman with a broad Geordie accent and an Irish chef who were having an argument about organic food. Not a country yokel in sight!

...it was not young Billy Boulton
I switched the radio off and decided that my quest for the Big Society was not to be found here either.  I didn't hear any 'celebrating' and there was definitely no 'embracing' going on, everything was very angry.  The answers had to lie somewhere else and it was then that I heard a knock at the front door.  I looked through the window and was relieved to see that it was not young Billy Boulton instead a small figure wearing a yellow hat stood on the step.  I went to investigate.

"Hello," he said "I'm campaigning on behalf of the Liberal Democrats.  Have you got five minutes?"

At last I thought, now I can get some honest answers about the Big Society.  So I invited him in...

This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Thursday 7 April 2011

5. Dick sees the light.....

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick

My chat with the Eggheads left me with more questions than answers about the Big Society.  After 43 years in the dark I'll have to search harder if I'm going to get peace of mind.  I will have to find new sources of information to understand just what is going on.  If only Yvette was here to support me, things would be different.  But it was never to be.  Our separation was swift.  We never got chance to say goodbye.  But I cling on to the hope that one day we'll meet again, maybe that's what the Big Society can do for us?

Last night I found the old TV
Last night I found the old TV still stuck in the corner of the living room "the one eyed idol" as old Mr Boulton used to say.  I remembered how the family used to sit and watch it and how they gradually ceased talking to each other.  Mrs Boulton stopped serving dinners at the table so the kids ate from trays on their laps, staring in a trance at the television screen.

The Eggheads said I had to go out and ask questions but maybe some of the answers could be found here.  The TV used to show news and current affairs, there was a war in Vietnam and starvation in Africa and race riots in the USA.  But that was the 60's so we must have moved on, especially now that we had the Big Society.

I heard a familar theme tune...
I sat down and looked forward to seeing the progress we had made after my 43 years in solitude.  There was a wonderful programme about the Universe that made me feel even smaller but the presenter, Professor Cox also made me feel like an important part of it all.  "You and I are made up of trillions of particles of star dust..."  But then, to my horror I heard a familiar theme tune. It was Coronation Street.  I could not believe my eyes and ears.  Like a scorpion after a nuclear war it had survived all of this time.  Gone were the hairnets and bottles of stout, instead it had women in short skirts but worst of all, it still had Ken Barlow.

I realised that not only had this house stayed the same but the world outside had not changed.  The news showed wars in the Middle East, starvation in Africa and riots in London.  But there was no mention of the Big Society.  Maybe it was all a still Big Secret?  Perhaps it is something that still needs to be discovered like a lost moon on the other side of Venus?  Professor Cox talked of making order out of chaos and after seeing the world through the one eyed idol there is still a long way to go.

I have seen the light
But, I have seen the light.  My quest for the Big Society is not over.  I am going in search of answers in all of this chaos and hope that the Eggheads and Professor Cox will be proud of me.

This is Dick signing out....

Wednesday 6 April 2011

3. Dick meets the Eggheads

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick.

Today is the first day of my quest.  The Big Society is out there somewhere and I have to find out what it is and what it can do for me and my fellow man.  It looks safe to explore now with the cat lying on a sack in the corner, sleeping off his last meal.  I'll have to be quiet though.  If my military training taught me anything it taught me how important stealth is to survival.

Through the window I can see the garden
The house looks abandoned but feels strangely familiar.  I have a weird sense of deja vu.  Through the window I can see the garden.  It is overgrown and...wait. Isn't that the rusty swing from which I was launched into the stinging nettles?  It can't be. This is the house of my incarceration!  I've come full circle.  I've gone from attic to tip and back to Lupin Drive.

If I'm right then the kitchen is through the door behind me.  I have to be certain.  What if that dysfunctional kid is still here?  He'll be an old man by now.  Maybe he's a full blown psychopath.  One thing is for certain I'll have to have my wits about me.  Dick Everyman has been in a lot of scrapes but this one could be the mother of them all.

Nothing has changed...
The only thing breaking the silence is the fat and contented cat purring in the corner.  Okay, the kitchen door is open and Dick is going in.  It is incredible.  Nothing has changed since I was thrown into the attic.  The furniture, the utensils the lino floor and yellow wallpaper are just the same as I remember. It's as if I've gone back in time. The only thing that is missing is the family.  All the material stuff they surrounded themselves with has survived but they are nowhere to be seen.

"Hello Dick, welcome home!"  Good grief that made me jump, where are the voices coming from?  This is crazy, my head is spinning.  It is all too much to take in.  First I'm on a package trip back to the 1960's and next I'm hearing disembodied voices.

"We're over here!"
I look to my left towards the cooker where at last I see the source of the voices.  The Eggheads are still in the same spot they occupied all those years ago.  I dash over to them, my heart beating with excitement.  At last I've found some friends.  Maybe now I'll get some answers.

It's been a long time Dick
"It's been a long time Dick."  The Eggheads seem pleased to see me as I shake them all by the hand.
"It's so good to see you Eggheads, I need you to answer my questions."
"Fire away."
I compose myself before taking advantage of their wisdom.
"What is the Big Society?"
There is an inordinate amount of head scratching and mumbling.
"Good question Dick.  What is it indeed?"  More head scratching.
"No, I'm asking you the question."  I can't hide my frustration.

"For the answer to your question you will have to ask more questions."  Now I'm even more perplexed.
"What kind of an answer is that?  I've spent the last 43 years incarcated in an attic, then I get myself thrown on a scrap heap and now I'm back in a place where time has stood still.  What kind of society is this?"  They are looking at me
"One question at a time please. You need to go and find out for yourself, it is the only way."
I'm disappointed, but perhaps they are right.  I will take their advice and search for the answer myself.
"Thank you Eggheads, thank you for your wisdom."

This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Tuesday 5 April 2011

2. Dick has a rough old night

Hi, I'm Richard Everyman but people call me Dick.

Well last night was a bit rough.  After walking a few miles I found an old garage to sleep in after climbing in through a cat flap.  I was in luck, there were old wicker baskets and bits of bubble wrap lying around so I made myself a bit of a nest and settled down for the night.

I dreamed about Yvette.
I thought about the Big Society, how we were all going to live in peace and prosperity for ever and ever.  After 43 years incarcerated in that attic it was a rosy picture, let me tell you.  It had been an exhausting day and after tossing and turning for a while I fell into a deep sleep.

I dreamed about Yvette.  Her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders and her cute button nose turned a comic shade of red in the cold night air.  She walked towards me with her arm outstretched.  Her arm!  That dysfunctional kid who broke my spirit all those years ago had ripped off one of Yvette's arms.

I pulled her close to me.  "It's okay Yvette," I said "Don't cry, please don't cry."
She whimpered and held on to me as best as she could with her one good arm.  "I've missed you Dick." Her French accent was as alluring as it had always been.
I wiped a tear from her eye.  "Listen Yvette, we've arrived in the Big Society.  We are going to be taken care of.  I'll find a job and we'll get you fixed."
She stared at me with fear in her eyes.  "Oh Dick, haven't you heard?"
My heart sank to the bottom of my jump suit.  "Tell me Yvette.  What is it?"
"They might privatise the NHS..."
"No!  They can't do that!  Say it's not true?"  But she could only nod in her unique Gallic way.

I woke up in a sweat as the cat flap opened.   Yvette had disappeared along with my dream as the mangiest moggy I had ever seen crept in with a dead mouse hanging from its vile jaws.  Well at least I wouldn't be on the menu.

As the creature settled down with its feast I chastised myself for allowing all those negative thoughts to enter into my dreams.  "You've got to pull yourself together Dick!  Today I will start my quest to learn about the Big Society."

I pulled myself together




This is Dick Everyman signing out...

Monday 4 April 2011

1. Hello from Dick

Thanks for visiting my page.  I'm Dick Everyman and recent events have prompted me to make contact with the big wide world.  You'll see from my profile I've had it tough over the past few years.  Being locked and forgotten about in an attic since 1967 could have had some severe psychological effects on me but somehow I survived.  Maybe it was my training as a fighter pilot that equipped me with my survival instincts or perhaps I was just made that way.

There was a time when I was alone in the dark when I heard a buzzing in my head that went on day and night.  I thought I had finally cracked until I discovered it was a wasp nest under the eaves.  It's been tough, but I'm not going to dwell on that stage of my life.  It's time to move on.

I really have to thank global warming and related government policy for my freedom.   You see, the new owners of the house I was locked up in decided to lag the loft after a government grant incentive. So I was taken down and stuffed in the back of a pick up truck along with three suitcases, a bike, an old TV and 12 rolls of anaglypta.  The dump was closed so we all ended up in a clearing at the end of a country lane.

After dusting myself off I found myself in the great outdoors facing all the elements that god in all his glory could throw at me.  It was then that I saw it.  A copy of a party political manifesto blew into my lap.  At first I thought I'd burn it to keep myself warm but some nagging instinct told me to look at it.  I could not believe what I was reading.  It spelled out how wonderful life was going to be from now on.  No one had to worry anymore because this was the dawn of something special, I had arrived in Utopia.  After more than forty years the lights had been switched on and I was going to experience the Big Society!

I climbed to the top of the cliff behind me and looked down at the garbage.  That I decide was my compost.  From now on I would grow and flourish.  I would be a champion of the Big Society, nothing was going to stop me and that dear friend is where my story begins....

This is Dick signing off until tomorrow.