Category: Blackburn

Bye Bye Blackburn Bouly

End of the road for Blackburn Boulevard

End of the road for Blackburn Boulevard

Work has now started on Blackburn’s new Cathedral Quarter.  It brings to an end over a century of use by Blackburn Boulevard as the town’s main bus station.  All that is left of our old bus station is a building site, surrounded by wooden boards.  But we have been told a phoenix will soon be rising from its ashes.

Station Square, as it was originally called, was actually triangular.  But this just about sums up Blackburn town centre – it’s never been known for getting its geometry right.  At least it was right in the centre though.  Even better, it was adjacent to our railway station, making Blackburn one of few large towns and cities with its own transport interchange.  Unfortunately, things were spoiled by it having a trunk road running through.  This often brought traffic to a standstill at peak times.

Our old Bouly was never a place for the faint-hearted.  I can remember it being populated by skinheads in the late 60’s.  Punk Rockers in the 1970’s and beggars and winos up to its final closure.  It also saw many a fracas between Rovers fans and visiting supporters from other football clubs.

Rowdy and violent behaviour will hopefully be a distant memory for this new cloistered enclave.  Ceremonial wine will be far more appropriate in the Cathedral Quarter than White Lightning and Frosty Jack cider.  Although the Adelphi will be keeping its eye on building work and hoping to benefit from any spin-offs from a new clerical community.

No doubt the finished product will be captured on film.  In 1905, pioneering Blackburn film makers:  Mitchell & Kenyon caught the unveiling of Queen Victoria’s statue.  This was probably much to the bemusement of WE Gladstone nearby.  His statue had already been there 6 years before her arrival.  They famously detested each other and the ‘Grand Old Man’ was subsequently shunted off to Blackburn College, before ending up in his present Blakey Moor home.  He has been climbed on many occasions over the years, having bottles and cans of beer placed in his outstretched hand and Rovers scarves draped around his neck.

Queen Vic seems to have got off lightly, only being left to the mercy of passing graffiti artists.  No doubt she would have banned the felt-tip pen and aerosol spray if they had been around in her day.  Let’s hope the new Cathedral Quarter will meet the Royal Approval and Blackburn’s people don’t end up saying:  “We are not amused!”

Virgin On The Ridiculous

More unwanted junk mail

More unwanted junk mail

Every day I when come home from work, there is usually some junk mail waiting for me in my porch.

Virgin Media are installing fibre optic cabling for their broadband service in my area.  As expected, they want to let everybody know about it.  This has led to a never-ending supply of their junk mail landing on my door mat.

At first I would chuck their letters in with my pile of other papers, leaflets and junk mail and bin them.  But after a while I saw it as a form of bullying, as well as an annoying invasion of my privacy.

I contacted Virgin’s Social Media team (socialteam@virginmedia.co.uk) and they said they would stop all marketing going to my address.  But it still continues to this very day.

After a good dig on the internet, various ways can be found of stopping some junk mail being delivered to your address.  First amongst these is the ‘Mailing Preference Service’.  They will stop most items directly addressed to you.  But those annoying ‘To the Occupier’ letters give it the slip.  This because the latter is a loophole, as it is classed as unaddressed mail.

The opposite effect comes with Royal Mail’s ‘Door-to-Door Opt Out’ scheme.  This stops items without a postal address.  But it has a legal duty to deliver all mail with a ‘delivery point’, meaning to the address, rather than the addressee – which it sees as irrelevant.  Therefore it considers ‘To the Occupier’ as addressed mail.  So you can’t win!

The big problem seems to be direct marketers are self-regulating.  They take the attitude that their industry keeps a lot of paper, printing and distribution workers in employment.  They claim their industry contributes around £20M to the UK economy.  Royal Mail gets half of its business from this source too.  So they aren’t going to be very helpful in killing the goose which lays the golden egg.

On the other side of the coin, how much does it cost to dispose of the average household’s 455 items of junk mail a year? And how does it affect recycling targets this country is obliged to meet?  It seems very irresponsible to waste so much paper on something most people clearly don’t want.  It also begs the question, what kind of service can you expect from a company which refuses to comply with the simple request to stop delivering their junk mail to your home?

What Virgin doesn’t seem to realise is their junk mail is actually not serving the purpose it was set up for.  Instead, it’s having the opposite effect.  Many disgruntled people like me are so fed up with them, we wouldn’t subscribe to their service even if it was free.  They can carry on being a virgin – they certainly won’t be touched by the hand of this man.

Roving Mick Joins Adoption Campaign

letsadopt paintMany people visiting this website won’t have met me.  But a lot of you will have seen my face in Blackburn town centre.

This is down to me being the grey-haired bloke in the latest poster being used by Blackburn with Darwen Council’s Adoption Team.  I jumped at the chance of doing my bit for the recruitment campaign and hope it will encourage some of you to consider finding out more about becoming adopters.

Every year, there are around 50 young children in Blackburn with Darwen who need adoptive parents. They range from babies and toddlers to children up to the age of 8 – and occasionally older.

The good news is that most people are able to adopt and with Blackburn with Darwen, you’ll be supported by one of the best adoption teams around.

They have introduced a quicker adoption process, which takes around six months to complete and includes training in child development, forming families and the special issues involved in adopting.

Find frequently asked questions about adoption on their website:

www.letsadopt.co.uk 

For more information or an informal chat, get in touch with their friendly and professional team.

Blackburn with Darwen Council
Children’s Services Department,
Floor 2, 10 Duke Street,
Blackburn BB2 1DH

T: 01254 666 806
E: info@letsadopt.co.uk

 

Sally Sticky Fingers

Not this time!

We had a recent case in the news of an admin worker stealing money from the bank account of a resident of a local hostel.  The worker was in a trusted position and they abused their role over a lengthy period of time.  The resident had mental health issues, making the crime even more despicable.

Coverage in the local media was scant.  Only a small inside page column with an unidentifiable photograph.  Their article was mainly coverage used in their previous report.  There was not even a mention of this case on any of the local radio stations.

It seemed like everybody got the result they wanted.  The police, the bank and the hostel were all able to slap themselves on the back and brush this case under the carpet, saying justice had been done.  After all, a thief had been sent to prison and the victim would get back what money they all thought had probably gone missing.

Unfortunately our victim has mental health problems.  He has no idea how much money has been stolen because he put his trust in the admin worker for many years.  They will probably serve a couple of months in prison and return to their pious life and everything will soon be forgotten.

Our swindler used to be a pillar of the community.  Partaking of religion on a Sunday and praying for the kind of unfortunate souls they were to commit this heinous offence against.  Whereas our victim was despised by the community because of his circumstances.  Yet our victim has never harmed a fly and is often seen by many of us carrying out voluntary work in the town centre.

Maybe we should all shoulder some of the blame over what has happened to our victim.  We treat the mentally ill with disdain, blaming them for their own reduced circumstances.  In our area there used to be hospitals where they received professional care.  These were sold off for their land and property value, leading to many vulnerable people expelled into a society which saw them as an unwelcome burden.

Sadly we have seen terrible cases of exploitation by others, including the admin worker, currently inside.  Unscrupulous people will always home in on vulnerable people with mental health issues.  Perhaps the case of our victim is just the tip of the iceberg.  Perhaps this appalling case will make society look at exploitation of the mentally ill.  Or will everybody carry on regardless and have as much interest as the authorities have shown?

Opening Time At Blackburn’s Morri’s

Off our Trolleys

Sometimes on my way to work, and most Saturday mornings, I can be found doing an early shop at Blackburn’s Morrison’s. 

My most convenient time for shopping is their eight o’clock opening time.  It’s a strange surreal experience, joining the throng of workers and pensioners on a week day.  But the other way round on Saturdays and Sunday.

Around ten to eight a gathering begins to build up.  It’s always the same old faces, some of whom can be seen at this time seven days a week.  People start looking at their watches and peering through the glass as eight approaches.  A flash of white flannel comes walking down from the other end of the store.  It is a chap with his key to open these glass doors.  Everybody then files in, heading towards the aisles.

This where almost a line in the sand is drawn.  Nobody enters these aisles until the eight o’clock bell rings.  It is like Wildebeest on the edge of a crocodile-infested river.  Shoppers stand on this edge, as though a killer weather balloon is about to rise up from around the aisles to smother them if they cross the threshold.  Nobody dares set foot into this shopping area.  Figures in green can be seen walking around.  Nobody wants to be told not to enter the forbidden zone.

I watch all this from one of the benches across from the shopping trolleys.  Unlike the majority of Morrison’s early morning shoppers, I generally slip in via their Salford sliding door.  This always seems to be opened before those Railway Road and car park entrances.  It means I get to sit down and watch all this drama.

When the 8.00am bell clangs, it’s straight to the sell-by counter for me.  My legs get me there before the majority of Morri’s punters.  Most of them are unhappy about shelves being swapped around again.  And then it’s a quick walk round the store, before landing at an open till.  My timing is usually good at this time of day.  I often catch them as they just open.  Staff are still tipping bags of coins into their till trays and are nice and friendly.

I hate shopping, even worse than that – I hate paying for it.  So my visits here are as quick as possible.  Sadly, it’s a necessity for me.  But for a lot of other people, it’s what gets them out of bed and the highlight of their day.

Windmills Of Your Mind

Tilting at windmills, outside the Quarryman's

Tilting at windmills, outside the Quarryman’s

Noel Harrison the actor, singer and former Olympic skier recently passed away.  In my childhood, he accompanied April Dancer – ‘The Girl from U.N.C.L.E.’.  But I will always remember him for singing that memorable Michel LeGrande/Alan & Marilyn Bergman song: ‘The Windmills Of Your Mind’.  Used for the 1968 film: ‘The Thomas Crown Affair’.

It’s funny how some songs stick in your mind.  This is especially so since the construction of a dozen massive wind turbines on the south-east side of Blackburn.  These near 400 foot high monsters would be well-placed in one of my tall stories.

Not everybody is happy with them.  Some local residents have had TV reception problems and others find them a blot on the landscape.  But from my vantage point, outside my front door up Blackburn’s Revidge Hill, I find our new windmills a pleasure to behold and very therapeutic.  It needs to be a reasonably clear day, without too much mist, and then I can see their sails going round when the wind blows.  It’s even better on a sunny day.  I can see flashes of sunshine as each sail turns.  Considering they must be at least four miles away from my house, it is a brilliant sight.

Maybe wind farms are not the answer to our spiralling energy needs.  But I’d sooner keep looking out my front door at a dozen working wind turbines, creating green renewable energy.  No chance on Oswaldtwistle Moor of another potential Three Mile Island, Chernobyl or Fukushima waiting to send us into nuclear oblivion.