Archive for the 'A bit of a rant' Category

Jumping Jack Flash

Posted by on December 16th 2009 in A bit of a rant
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Sometimes you get a feeling right at the start that a job's going to go tits-up...

 

It all started with the letter from M1 Gas Alliance. Dated 03/12/2009, it told of the impending gas supply interruption due to the improvement of the gas main on the estate. "We plan to start work between 07/12/2009 and 11/12/2009", it said. Maybe it would have been better to deliver said letter a tad earlier than 10/12/2009 then.

Since then road-crew have dug holes all around the Close and have festooned the place with miles of plastic fencing. They've worked fast and with due consideration for the residents. No problem there.

Yesterday (Tuesday) was the day when they would shove their little yellow pipe through the old steelie that stretches from the road, under the garden, under the footings and into our meter. We were told at 08:30 that this would happen and that someone would have to be in to allow access, and sure enough the little yellow pipe did make it into the house... at about 16:30. So that's only eight hours of me sat around doing sweet Fanny Adams.

That phase ended with the capping of the incoming pipe, the complete removal of the meter and the assurance that a qualified gas fitter would arrive within the hour to reconnect the meter and the supply, to test the system and to restart our appliances. Now that sounded like a good plan. As the ground crew departed for the pub, two fitters arrived and worked their way around the Close.

17:30 arrived sans fitter. I went outside for a quick scan and noted that one fitter was three houses away. I figured that he was busy so I didn't trouble him.

18:30 arrived sans fitter. I went outside for another quick scan and noted that he was one house away. We would be next.

19:30 arrived sans fitter. I went outside for a yet another quick scan and noted that he and his mate were nowhere to be seen. They must be having trouble somewhere, I assumed. They were still about, though, as their van was still parked next to our house.

20:30 arrived sans fitter. I went outside for a yet another quick scan only to be told by a neighbour that the fitters had both finished and gone off in a different van... just after 18:30.

CUE THE RANT/RAGE/ANGST/EXPLETIVES

 

20:50 was when I had calmed down enough to restrict the language to no worse than a string of fecks liberally peppered with ba5tards and a few tw@ts. During this slack period I phoned the number printed in two places on the letter. 01162 574540. Imagine my glee when I found that I'd just phoned Direct Line Insurance. Undeterred, I dialled again and got the same message.

CUE THE RANT/RAGE/ANGST/EXPLETIVES AGAIN

I found out later that when they'd shut their office yesterday, the last one out had set the phone to redirect to the wrong number. Doh!

 

21:00 was when I called the emergency number. The kind folk there gave me a sensible number for National Grid, so I dialled that and told them of the situation. They arranged for a fitter to attend within the next four hours.

22:00ish and the fitter arrived. He fitted the meter and eventually turned on the gas supply. All of the appliances worked fine so I thanked him and let him go. We put the fire and the central heating on to warm the house, and sat back, relieved that it was all fixed.

23:00ish - that's when I started to smell gas. The meter cupboard stank of it.

CUE THE  RANT/RAGE/ANGST/EXPLETIVES YET AGAIN

 

I called National Grid again and they promised me a fitter within the hour, as this time the situation was classed as an emergency. He turned up at 23:45, it was the same bloke that had fitted the meter. At first he couldn't detect the leak, but we could both smell it. After repiping and then remounting the meter he found the leak, some way along the downstream pipework, in his opinion caused during the initial removal of the meter and hence the responsibility of the road-crew. He had no choice but to turn off the supply, cap the meter and place a warning on it which effectively says "If you use this you'll all burn in hell".

 

So now it's 01:45 (Wednesday) and we've no gas/heating/hot water. Again.

At 08:00 this morning the road-crew will be back to disconnect our spur from the old main and to connect it to the new one.

I really don't fancy the chances of the first one of them to knock on my door.

If you pay peanuts, you get monkeys

Posted by on September 21st 2009 in A bit of a rant, In the News

So the CBI says "charge students more", eh? What twaddle is that? FFS, get real. These days most grads start their working life with the hassle of having to pay back a student loan and whatever else they had to borrow to make ends meet. Where are they expected to find the extra dosh? Down the back of the sofa?

There was a time when we had a system where the A-Level, the basic yardstick for measuring the academic ability of a student applying for a place at uni, was something that had to be worked at. It wasn't given away in a box of cornflakes, it was something to be proud of. The peeps at Uni knew that, and set their entrance requirements high so that they could choose from the best of the best. In that way, they could regulate the influx so that their finances were more-or-less balanced, and they weren't taking in more folk than they could afford to educate. Also, the financial strain on the LEAs was less, as the amount of grants/fees that they were paying out was lower, there being fewer students to fund. Back then, at the end of full-time education the HE achievers got the best jobs, the FE and mid-eds got the good jobs and the less-able got jobs with dirty spanners, mucky wellies or hair-dressing scissors.

For a while now we've had a system where the A-Level format has changed so that it's easy to get good grades, the Unis have dropped their entry requirements to accept the semi-skimmed along with the cream, and grants have been replaced by loans. Then there's the cross-border disparity regarding HE/FE fees. It's an open-door policy by any other name, provided you have the money or can get it somewhere along the line. Gone are days when HE suitability was based on what was in your head, now it depends on what's in your wallet. That's financial discrimination, blowing out of the water the notion that everybody has an equal right to HE, regardless of their background, and based on their true academic ability. Let's remember that it is the Government that wants the country to have more better-educated folk (they want 50% of young people to go to university), so shouldn't the Government be footing the bill, like it used to via the LEA grant/fee system?

Anyway, with the annual HE mass-influx at such a high level, is it any wonder that the educational establishments haven't got enough money to go around? No.

Nowadays at the end of full-time education the job-route is much the same, except that the balance has shifted - because of the higher numbers of folk with "good" A-Levels and HE/FE certs, there are more contenders for the best and good jobs, and hardly any folk to do the mucky spanner work, hence the alleged need to import cheap labour from Eastern Europe while paying for our own versions to draw the dole. Now it's just a thought, but maybe if we sent the migrant workers back home and gave their jobs to our jobless, the savings in dole-money could go into the HE/FE pot. And the jobless total would be lowered, which would look good for the stats-spinners of the Government of the Day.

A conversation during a recent visit to the Uni where I was an undergrad says it all for me. I was looking at the staff-list in the department where I studied, checking to see how many remained of the staff that taught me, when I was engaged in conversation by the current Head of Department. Keen to find out more about the errant alumnus standing before him, he asked when I'd graduated. "1984", I answered. "Ah, back when a degree was worth something, not like today" he replied. I looked in his eyes and I knew that he wasn't joking.

In short, back in the days when I was an undergrad, we had to fight for the right to party. Nowadays, there's an open invitation to every man and his dog, and there's not enough beer to go around. Somebody needs to say "sorry, no more revellers, we're full" and lock the door before we all die of thirst.

Suckers for punishment

Posted by on May 6th 2009 in A bit of a rant

Today I had need to visit the infamous shed-losing DIY store again. Just out of curiosity, I had a look around in the yard to see what they'd done with the duff panel that I sent back. Yes, you guessed it - they've put it in with the rest of the bits of the other 7x7 shed, so it's for sale again. I know that it's the same panel, because I marked it with a water-based marker-pen where it wouldn't show. Sometime soon, some poor sod's going to buy that shed and then have to jump through the same fiery hoops as I did trying to get the same duff panel exchanged.

I'd have thought that the staff would have had enough hassle over this item, but they seem ready to start the cycle all over again.

It just beggars belief.

Eejuts.

Belt and braces

Posted by on May 2nd 2009 in A bit of a rant, Thanks, Video (YouTube, Vimeo etc.)

Despite having the solemn promise about the replacement shed-panel delivery this afternoon, I just didn't trust them. Would you? Just letting things happen was getting me nowhere - I knew that I would have to make things happen. I'm good at that.

I called in unannounced at about 11a.m. and went straight to the back yard of the store to see what had happened to the replacement panel... it wasn't on the trolley... it wasn't in the goods-out area... it wasn't in the main store... it was back where we had found it on Thursday, buried under the rest of the bits of the other flat-packed 7x7. Somebody had been playing silly-buggers.

Back at the Customer Services desk I found the assistant that I had helped to sort out the panel on Thursday. He was genuinely shocked when I told him that the panel-swap had not taken place on Friday, and was gobsmacked when I showed him where said panel had ended up. He was apologetic to me, and we sorted the panel again.

I made it absolutely plain to him, and to everybody else within earshot at the tills and Customer Services desk, that I had had more than enough of this crap, and that the shit would fly fast and far very soon if I didn't get proper Customer Service. I even threatened to decorate the front of their building in a similar manner to the way that "Romanes eunt domus" was painted onto the walls of the Governor's Palace in Monty Python's Life of Brian. They thought that I was joking, but I wasn't.

He phoned the delivery contractors to find out when they would be arriving to do their pick-up - they would be there in about 20 minutes. We carried the panel to the goods-out area where I made him put a big instruction label on the panel, then I just stood there and waited - there was no way that I was going to leave until I had actually witnessed both the loading of the goods and the instruction of the driver.

After a few more minutes the van arrived and I watched the loading and the instruction - eventually I was happy enough to leave them to it, after I'd told them all about my shit/fan/impact prediction. I thanked the assistant and then went home to wait.

And an hour or so later, it was delivered. No ceremony, no recrimination, no hassle, just a bit of friendly banter and leg-pulling.

So here's a big thanks to Ben, the one assistant that had the balls to seize the horns of his dilemma, wrestle the beast to the ground and then stand triumphantly above it in his hour of victory.

Nice one, Ben!

The van men didn’t cometh back

Posted by on May 1st 2009 in A bit of a rant

True to form, the replacement panel (the one that I helped the store assistant to sort out and set aside on a trolley) didn't arrive this morning as promised. The long and detailed instruction note that the assistant left for the morning-shift was summarily ignored by all and sundry until after the delivery contractors had loaded up, done their morning rounds and then gone home. Realising their error, the staff then couldn't be arsed to call me and explain their cock-up, so it was left to me to phone them yet again and call them a bunch of incompetent *%$££^*(s.

No apology was forthcoming.

I now have a solemn promise that the panel will be replaced tomorrow afternoon (they don't do morning deliveries on Saturday).

I hope that they keep to their end of the bargain - if they don't, there'll be hell to pay. I'll make sure of that.

The van men cometh

Posted by on April 30th 2009 in A bit of a rant

Against all the odds, the fabled “Lost Shed of Olde Hinckley Town” was indeed delivered here yesterday. Things were looking up, and I thought that the situation had been resolved.

Sadly, it wasn't to be.

This morning I went out to begin assembling the thing, but the exercise was short-lived after I had one of those "WTF?" moments. The tools were packed away again and I arrived at the store a few minutes later. Rather foolishly, the staff had neglected to don their flak-jackets...

Right, Sir, what can we do for you?

Well, you could start by not sending me a shed with a skewed plain end that's clearly been assembled by feckin' morons and then quality-checked by Ray Charles!

Oh. Oh dear. How bad is it?

 

 

 

We went into the back yard and found another 7x7 strapped up as a bundle, as delivered from the supplier. I helped the assistant to take the required panel from the bundle, and set it aside on a trolley, ready to be sent to me.

The replacement panel will be here mañana, allegedly.