Friday, 13 March 2015

It Was A Woman’s World

When I first started writing blogs (September 2014) I couldn’t really have guessed just how they would be received. Would anyone read them? Would they get some lip service? Would they be genuinely liked? Who knew?

One particular earlyish effort was merely blogged because I was looking forwards to the return of the Sky 1 programme ‘Trollied’ – mainly because I used to work at a supermarket and found it was very close to the mark in its observations! I didn’t for a second think  that it would ultimately become the most popular blog I've written to date!
So on the back of that ‘Getting Trollied Again’ blog, I thought I’d give a further insight into those glorious retail years:

As previous readers will know, I spent the formative years of my employment working in a supermarket.
My first couple of years were enjoyed as a student on the Produce section and checkouts, before moving to working on the Delicatessen counter, initially as a student, but then as a full time member of staff once I’d left Sixth Form and was undecided about what I wanted to do with my life. So many people fall into this route, and I actually really enjoyed it for a long time before finding something outside of retail when I was in my early mid twenties.
A picture of a Deli Counter. Not mine though - I had some staff behind mine

After learning the Deli role inside out for a couple of years, I was fortunate enough to get a promotion to become the new Delicatessen Manager at a store in Brighton, starting just three days after my 21st birthday.

It’s fair to say that up till that point of my retail career, I’d seen a few things that had opened my naïve innocent young eyes a little, but nothing prepared me for the response I received on my first day in that new role, and indeed the first couple of months.

What could be so wrong?
Well specifically it was three things about me that made some of my new staff not that keen on me at all:
1.       I was introduced to them on the first day as God.
2.       I was young.
3.       I was male.

Being introduced as The Almighty was horrendously embarrassing. I have no idea why my introducer opted to say that, but I think maybe because he had been looking after the counter in the absence of a manager and wanted them to think I was there to ‘save’ them. I REALLY had to underplay that title in the first few weeks to stave off fears of being called arrogant. Talk about a stitch up.

As for ‘being young and male’ – well they both sound ridiculously ancient don’t they!?
But it was a genuine issue as Delicatessen counters traditionally (although not exclusively) had been a rather female dominated environment, and here I was, this boy, taking over the running of their baby and many of them were not at all comfortable with it. To them, I was the Anti Milky-Bar Kid in more ways than one.
Had I not been their manager, and just been joining as an assistant, I doubt it would have irked them so much, but it took a ton of effort to win certain staff over and prove I was worthy.

For example, during that first week I remember cleaning out the bins. I wanted to muck in and do everything and not be some aloof ‘suit’, so I thought this might help somewhat. Nope. The opposite in fact, as this action extremely upset one of the senior ladies as she’d done the bins for the last twelve years, and boy had I now stepped on her toes!

Whilst she was being comforted and consoled by another elder stateswoman (because she WAS in tears), my confidence wasn’t helped by the deliberately loud comment ‘I told them we should have been given a woman manager
This would take some skill to turn them!

Altogether I had 17 staff initially, which included two male students, three female students, and the rest were females old enough to be my mother or grandmother. It would be wrong though to say that ALL the elder females didn’t want me there. One Scottish lady in particular took to me quite early on and stated that she felt I’d been a bit stitched up, and that even before I’d arrived I was on a hiding to nothing as a colleague of mine at my previous branch had popped in the week before to ‘advise’ them about me. Her assessment being:
He’s a nice guy, but he’s not up to being a manager


...which was ironic given that less than 12 months earlier, I’d had to cover her sorry ass over a Christmas period when she couldn’t cope when acting up as a deputy manager herself. It was a shame to be knifed in the back before I’d even started, but she’d always been a touch bitter, having felt mistreated by the firm over her own career path over the years. I felt sorry for her but why try and hurt me?

All this made me think that perhaps the dislike of me from these people who I felt didn’t know me from Adam, might actually be a bit misplaced through gossip, so I tried not to fret too much about it.

Rather soon, I lost my senior assistant to another department. She had also applied for the Deli Manager’s job and failed to get it, and she wanted some more responsibility. She was fair to me in that she knew it wasn’t my fault, but she wanted to be appreciated and after she helped settle me in, I was happy to help her get a promotion to another role in the store.
Perhaps I didn’t help improve my standing with the others though as when appointing her replacement, I (fairly) opted for the best person, following interviews. As it happened, another male!

The furore that kicked off simply because I’d given the job to a male was unbelievable. It took intervention from the Personnel Manager to sort out the ridiculous complaints (sexism, ageism, experience-ism!) that arose because of it.
After a few weeks had passed, they started speaking to me again...

Time heals, and ultimately as a team, we all contributed to making our Deli the best performing counter in the district, and second best in the region. Given we were bottom of that list before I’d arrived, I was very proud of the work we’d all done.

My reward was to be appointed as the Delicatessen District Trainer for our area, which in turn made our counter the jewel in the area that other Deli Managers came from afar to admire and seek advice from, which thankfully, my lovely staff took immense satisfaction out of and ultimately meant I had earned their respect.

Fair play to some of the stronger critics, as when I reluctantly moved on from the store, they apologised for their preconception of me and offered that I’d actually been a pretty good manager when all was said and done! Praise from them was more important than praise from above, and the best compliment I could pay them back in return was that the two years I spent at that branch were two of the best years of my working life.
Looks like a prison hospital doesn't it!?

Leaving was a huge wrench. A destructive one too, as within a week of working at my new store, I knew I wouldn't be staying long. That was October 1998, and I left the company in May 1999.

Those 8 months were as bad as the previously 24 had been good.
I’d gained promotion on the basis that I completed a pilot assessment centre training course for Managers seeking advancement. I had furthermore been promised to be fast tracked through the full management course as specifically I had management experience under my belt already.. Ideally it wouldn't take anymore than 6 months to get fully qualified and trained up before I’d be given a proper large department of my own to manage.

But literally the week I moved to my new placement, they changed it. Who they were, I’m still not sure, but I got thrown in with a dozen or so university graduates on a post-graduate scheme and no such real opportunity arose for an actual promotion.
Essentially, despite 8 years with the company, starting from joining in 1991 and working 10 hours a week as a school boy to what I’d recently achieved,  I now had to complete a mandatory full year of training – literally I was told I had to relearn how to stock shelves!

Just to rub salt into the wounds, the university grads went straight on to a starting salary that was nearly £6000 higher than me! If it wasn’t for real it would've been hilarious.
I should say that at no time did I blame the grads – It wasn’t their fault at all. Indeed they had a huge amount of sympathy for me being entrapped in this time wasting slavery scheme, and two of them were placed at the same store I was. They were two of the nicest girls I could have hoped to be paired with and they at least made my time at the store much more bearable.

When I resigned, the District Manager offered apologies and said I’d been earmarked to have been a ‘40 yearer’ with the company – the store manager added that in his opinion, the company had failed me ‘criminally’.

It was a sad end to my time in retail really, and prior to October 1998, I couldn’t have envisaged my departing so soon. But all in all the 8 years were mostly pretty good, and watching Trollied on Sky 1 brings back some fab and funny memories.

Would I want to go back to retail though? Well never say never.

But no! NO! NO! NO!

Friday, 6 March 2015

Substitute Teachers


In these present days of Teaching Assistants galore, classrooms are nicely awash with support for children, but it wasn’t so long ago that only having your regular teacher in class was the norm.

That said though, a sprinkling of substitute, cover or student teachers occasionally dipped in to the mix which usually meant absolute chaos would ensue within seconds of them entering the classroom.

They were often an odd sort weren't they? Horrendous dress sense, totally incapable of maintaining any kind of decent control over the class, and seemingly prepared to accept all kinds of personal abuse from those who fancied their chances against them.
"Yes, Barry Manilow DOES know..."

In fact, none of those who taught classes I was in seemed to exude any skills of note. Perhaps they should have watched what Sidney Poitier did in To Sir With Love?


My memory is usually pretty good, but it has failed me a little for this one, as there are quite a few such specimens that I can remember by appearance, but not by name! So out of fairness, and to promote anonymity, I've opted to revert to nicknames for all of the candidates below:

Alan
Let’s start by clarifying that Alan was actually a female, and was only known to us as ‘Alan’ as she looked like the brother of one of my best mates – who was called Alan!
Alan was a student teacher assigned to teach us French in Year 11 (5th year) during the LAST TERM before we left to take our GCSE exams. The LAST TERM! Whoever made that decision wants their head examined… at a time when we needed that final push and support before leaving school, it’s no wonder so many people got low pass marks. On the whole, she was a very forgettable teacher, but  bless her she was memorable for trying to express ‘pain’ in French, by running around the classroom feigning tummy illness – for 20 minutes.
At least I think she was faking it…

Denny
So named because I think this chap was Danish. I could've gone with other food related links to Denmark, but was advised caution against being ignorantly racist!

Poor Denny seemed to lose the class before he'd even started. Another student teacher, he was brought in to teach German and miraculously managed to survive just about one term before moving on. Bright and breezy in his introduction, some of my more ruthless classmates started tearing him a new one almost immediately. The lessons immediately crumbled into a torrent of abuse towards him, his accent, his beard, his dress wear, his lack of authority etc. No amount of him shouting and literally screaming could stop the barrage of mocking coming his way.
Towards the end of his tenure, our class was split into two, in order to help him attempt to manage / teach a smaller group – which clearly didn't help our education. During these split sessions, one of the heads of year asked me to tell her what we'd learnt, so I honestly and openly told her ‘not much’ and that it would take a miracle for the majority of the students to ever turn and warm to him.

Coming towards the end of term, we were ‘lucky’ enough to have him cover a Design Technology lesson for us. During which some students wound him up so much that he literally threw a desk at a girl who had dared to laugh at him! He then sent her in to another room and about a minute later all we could hear was screaming. Evidently he had held her in an attempt to calm her down apparently, and she had retorted with 'get your hands off of me you b******!’ before running out and home.
And to cement the growing list of incidents, shortly after the above incident he had the tyres slashed on his Citroen 2CV Dolly by a 1st year student.


Unsurprisingly he didn't return in September, and we had a brand new female teacher in his place. She was a breath of fresh air, instantly liked by all, and didn’t receive one dot of abuse.
A footnote to this story though, is that she actually knew her predecessor rather well. She ended up being one of the best teachers I ever had, but to be fair, whoever his replacement was would have been almost angelic in comparison. Long after his departure, she told me how amazed she was at the series of events as she found him to be such a nice chap!
Trusting her assessment of him, I'm sure he was probably a nice guy – he just didn't get off to a good start for whatever reason and it got diabolically worse from there on in.

Hagar – But Not Horrible
“I used to teach in London.”

A fact he often reminded us about. Possibly it was coding for ‘don’t screw with me’, but he was generally alright in the way he handled the classes. He basically used to give as good as he got, and to that end he had a fair good rapport with most students. What we ever learnt was debatable though.
He opened himself up to abuse by declaring he was a Crystal Palace fan, which was a burden for one of my Crystal Palace supporting mates (coincidentally the brother of Alan above), as every time Hagar appeared before us, he’d make a beeline for him to discuss how the football was going.
Oh and apparently he also taught John Barnes. Just in case we’d forgotten from the last 50 times he’d told us.
'Digger' Barnes - not yesterday

I think he also used to lift share with another cover teacher who I think was nicknamed Charley Farley, or Farley’s Rusks or something similar? The name Rudolph rings a bell though, but that might be due to a red nose I recall him having. It distracted from the tweed suit.

The Twins: Cunning Linguist & Watoo Watoo
And finally, a brief mention for these two student teachers who popped up at Primary School.
The Cunning Linguist wasn’t popular amongst fellow teachers and children alike. This was compounded when I heard other teachers slagging him off just after he left. The nickname is because he often used to mispronounce the name of our lovely headmaster Mr.Cunliffe (RIP) to Mr.Cunnicliffe – which as a child I found funny, and as an adult I find mildly disturbing!
And finally, Watoo Watoo was just a friendly play on the family name of the preceding nice young student teacher who at least came back and visited us again.


Think how much our children are missing out on these delights!

Sunday, 1 March 2015

This Sporting Life

To start with, here’s a joke (though nowadays probably both politically and factually incorrect) that features in the spoof disaster movie ‘Airplane!

Elaine Dickinson: “Would you like something to read?”
Hanging Lady: “Do you have anything light?”
Elaine Dickinson: “How about this leaflet, ‘Famous Jewish Sports Legends?’”




The point being that a leaflet would pretty much sum up the pool of achievement and talent that is my sporting prowess!
But I did have a couple of moments that linger…

Dreadlock Holiday
I don’t like Cricket. Oh no! I LOVE it!
During the glorious Euro ‘96 footballing summer of, erm, 1996, I played in my very first ever proper cricket match (in actuality there was only one other match).
I honestly had no idea how good I would be at cricket, but suspected I might be a reasonable bowler, but a below average batter. So on one warm summer evening as part of a work inter region tournament, off we went to play in a lovely field on the Kent / Sussex border,
We won the toss and decided to bat first. I was not expecting to even get to put pads on, let alone to actually bat, but we had a mid order collapse and so as eighth man, I had to gingerly trot out for what would be the last couple of overs. Was I scared? Yes. Yes I was.
Of the six balls I actually faced, the first four produced a single and a four – and I would have been happy with that effort. But – astonishingly – for the penultimate delivery I smashed the ball out of the field and over the clubhouse to the waiting parked cars behind for a glorious six! Marvellous scenes!

That moment when your own actions stun yourself speechless? That.

And so our innings finished with my batting career total score being 11 not out, off six balls.
I bowled my allotted two overs quite well too, and managed also to take a catch in the gully, but the batting effort was such a shock to me. Thankfully I have a family member that witnessed it, as if I had only witnessed it myself I doubt anyone would have believed it!


BBC* Sports Personality Of The Year 1989
*Sorry, NOT BBC, I meant PCC (Portslade Community College)
Incredibly, in 1989 I was jointly named the inaugural school ‘Sports Personality of the Year’ alongside one of my best friends! This really was a miracle and one or two jealous types considered it to be a joke in light of the fact that neither of us was particularly talented at many sports (maybe apart from Hockey, at which we both played games for Sussex Schools.)

The fact that the award was given for effort and willingness to take part in virtually every sport going was lost on some people… though it gave my mum a laugh!


One-Seventy-Five
This one was a very nice conspicuous victory!
I’ve never been that good at ten pin bowling, though I’ve always enjoyed playing for a laugh. That said I was probably rubbish in the initial games I played as I had the wrong fingers in the bowling ball holes. Note to adults: Children need to be shown these things sometimes!

Anyway, fingers adjusted and on to one of the last events I was involved in for my retail career: a work night out with about 25 colleagues down the bowling alley.


Anyone who has worked in a supermarket will know that there are some over precious egos at work much of the time, which generally involves boys showing off to girls and vice versa. So we had this mammoth game with all these people fighting for bragging and shagging rights, and I simply played my own game quietly and unnoticed amongst all the sawdust flirting. Evidently most hadn’t been paying much attention to scores other than their own, so after an epic 3 hours later (for ONE game) up pops my name on the screen as the winner, with a pretty reasonable total of 175! I kid you not, at least three lads stormed off home. I have no idea if they were embarrassed or had lost bets etc. but they just went! I’ll always remember one lad, who once the screen had done its reveal, just turned to stare at me in disbelief, threw his shoes off, grabbed his coat and ran out via the fire escape. All very odd!
What else could I do but smile that I was soon to be leaving some of these morons forever!?


The Backwards Race
You see THIS should have been the best one.
Picture the scene. Unsurprisingly I wasn’t the fastest 7 year old there’s been, but I DID have an ability to run backwards with some cohesion, and at some speed. In the practise sessions for the always eagerly anticipated primary school sports day, I won every backwards race heat going. I’d found my niche! So come the big day, I couldn’t wait to get a coveted First Place sticker, to go alongside the same prize I’d won the previous year at Wellyboot throwing. It was a formality surely.
Nice action

BANG! Went the gun… and I fell on my backside quicker than the gunpowder leaving the casing. The audible groan of sympathy from the crowd wasn’t lost on me either. So I got up, ran backwards for about 3 metres, and blow me if I didn’t fall on my arse AGAIN! I could’ve cried – it would’ve sounded in tune with the now embarrassed audible groan from the crowd this time.
Determined to finish, I still had 30 metres or so to go. So I just absolutely went for it…



…and I’d love this story to have a happy ending…




But I finished second!

Thursday, 26 February 2015

The Acknowledgers


This is just the briefest of interim blogs before the proper ones start again next week!

It’s a simple, but extremely grateful 'shout out' to those celebrities and/or well known folks in the public domain who have kindly taken the time to interact on some level with BerryLogs and me on Twitter over the years.


I’m not knocking those who haven’t though, as I would guess that when one has millions of followers, as some of those famed people have, a soppy little blog which briefly mentions the subject in question is probably not high on their priority list!

That said though, I should probably give a special mention to a TalkSport DJ. For the best part of the last decade I’ve listened to his show and agreed and disagreed with his views in largely equal measure. But I can’t even attempt to interact with him on Twitter. Why? Because he blocked me in error and has ignored my efforts to change this status!
Never mind – I’m sure I’ll live!

So thank you to the following, in the most shameless terms of name dropping I could ever hope to portray!!


From the World of Sport:
Riddick Bowe 
Gary Lineker 
Craig Mackail-Smith
Kazenga Lua-Lua
Nicky Forster
Adam Virgo
John Byrne
Robyn Schönhofer
Bianca Westwood
Dick Knight
Dave Beckett
Keith Hackett
Andy Naylor
Andrew Hawes
Johnny Cantor
Steve North
Leon Knight
Bob Wilson
Paul Camillin
Ian Abrahams
Gary Stevens
Darragh MacAnthony
Chris Waddle
Dame Kelly Holmes
Joe Bennett
Jason Cundy
Chris Eubank
Steve Sidwell 
Inigo Calderon
David Stockdale
Tim Prendergast
Colin Murray
John Barnes
Jim Rosenthal
Sebastien Pocognoli
Laura Woods
Kevan Brown
Ally McCoist
Brian Horton

…and of course celebrity Brighton fan Brett Mendoza!


From the World of Music:
Carol Decker
Cheryl Baker
Les McKeown
Joy Valencia
Mike Stock
Roy Wood
Jona Lewie
Natalie Appleton
Gilbert O'Sullivan
Paul J. Medford
Kate Nash
Nicole Appleton
Tess Henley
Midge Ure
Kevin Rowland
Paul Young
Alex James

From the World of Entertainment/Misc:
Fern Britton
Kim Cattrall
Amelia Frid
Harry Goaz
Faye McKeever
Jason Watkins
Lorraine Cheshire
Carl Rice
Beverly Rudd
Emma Samms
Sarah Gorrell
Nicholas Hammond
Lizzie Cundy
Gail Porter
Dom Joly
Dan Gasser
Tony Blackburn
Mike Read
Madchen Amick
John Challis
Claire Goose
Jane Horrocks
Angela Douglas
Noel Edmonds
Anthea Turner
Sir Roger Moore
Gaby Roslin
Dame Joan Collins
Sarah Greene
Mark Hamill
Samantha Fox
Chanel Cresswell 
Joanne Froggatt
Laura Tott
Kyle MacLachlan
Anneka Rice
Dean Andrews
Jeremy Sisto
Ewen MacIntosh
Max Rushden
Art Hindle
Ralph Brown
David Arquette
Lucy Speed
Steve North

May you all continue to have time on your hands to talk to your fans!

Belief.Love.Spirit
XxX

Monday, 26 January 2015

Do you remember the time?

So how is 2015 for you so far?

Enjoying your flying cars, Hoverboard,
Nike power lace ups and inside out jeans?
How about the Pepsi Perfect you had in the Café 80’s?
Not everything forecast in Back To The Future Part II  has come to pass (although the Nike Power Laces are on the way soon!), so whilst I’m taking February off, and replenishing my blogging juices for a proper bit of writing, I’m going to play my ‘get out’ card for this one!
I haven’t done a retro list for a while, so here are a few memory joggers for all you lovely 80’s and 90’s children!

So do you remember the time, when…

… you could watch MTV and you knew EVERY song they played?

...If Clarissa couldn't explain it all, then Sabrina might try instead 

… Comic Relief was genuinely the funniest night on TV all year?

when Starbuck was male, and not female, and not a coffee house?


… you wouldn’t eat porridge oats, as you thought the Quaker dude was looking at you a bit funny?

… we were apparently 18 months behind the Neighbours storyline?

... virtually everyone liked Band Aid?

... Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks were the best thing on the telly on a Saturday afternoon?

... barely four football matches were televised a month?

... we only had three channels on TV?

... it took half a day to set the VCR?

… you knew what a VCR was?

... Big Brother was a relation?

... kids played in the park?

... all we had were three Star Wars films?

… female celebrities had their original lips?

... The Beano and The Dandy gave away free gifts that glowed in the dark?

... the internet cost £2.50 per hour to surf at home?

…when surfing was something only west coast Americans did?

... Saturday morning TV was for children?

... flat screen TVs were only on Star Trek?

... when 3D was red and blue? Or you’d make your own out of those plastic sun visor hats?

... F1 was competitive between more than two drivers?

... a pound coin was a note?

… school glue was a fashion accessory?

… you knew what a Squarial was?

… a Polo packet cost 7p?

… you only had sausages wrapped in bacon at Christmas?

… ‘Wannabe’ was the only song on the radio all summer?

… Lime Green ruled 1996?

… Twitter was something the birds did?

… Celebrities were genuinely talented in their profession?

… hardly anybody’s parents were divorced?

… there was a pub in every village?
 
I’ll be Back To The Blogging in March!
 Belief.Love.Spirit
XxX