Pole glancing

A few weeks ago I told you that I was starting reading the news for my beloved Spalding Guardian - and here it is. The delivery isn't bad and we're getting better at putting the vids on. Enjoying it.

Thought you might enjoy the photo from Waikiki as well - through the magic of Photoshop I've combined two photos of one of the main roads, one of which was underexposed, the other over exposed. Photoshop is not easy to use initially, but I'm getting there.

Talking of Photoshop I'll be using it agin next week. Off to Poland on Tuesday with the lady. It will be the 8th different Eastern European country I've been to, alongside Bulgaria, Romania, Estonia, Czech Republic, Croatia, Slovenia and Hungary.

All the obvious jokes have come out when I tell people I'm going to Poland - "Why didn't you go to Peterborough?/Is there going to be anyone left over there?" etc etc.

But Eastern Europe has some spectacular jewels. Tallinn, for example, is an unbelieveable blend of medieval churches and bijou bars. Cheap beer in fantastic surroundings - and a bar themed entirely on 80s band Depeche Mode. Ultra-weird.

Split, in Croatia, is another. Seafood restaurants on the Adriatic coast (only a few miles from Yugoslavia) literally surrounded by ruins from the time when the Roman empire spread its claws across Europe. Fabulous nightlife (although be careful - the most expensive birthday present I ever gave myself was in a stripclub in Split with no prices on the wall...) and good activities - try the white water rafting in the nearby rivers.

There are others - Bled, Veliko Tornovo, Sighisoara (Dracula country) in Romania and Prague were memorable. I've also been to some shockers. Bucharest was particularly horrendous, although we did play an England - Romania grudge match with some youngsters yards from a busy roundabout in the city centre at midnight (3-3 and I bagged a brace, including a beauty of a right footed strike from a tight angle, not that I'm sad enough to remember it!).

I expect it to look like Prague, with an old town square, restaurants that serve acquired tastes such as pike, a Museum for the destruction of Communism and enlightenment of the Proletariat, old Citroens and Ladas being driven by bald guys with beards and grudges, and drunk men lying on park benches. Will put photos on next week!

A tough story

Being a journalist is quite exciting sometimes. I have done some brilliant things in the past 3 1/2 years. parachuting, food tasting, car simulator racing, golf, giving blood, raising money for charity in numerous ways, etc etc are some of the interesting things I've enjoyed or hated since my stint at the paper.

Sometimes it's absolutely horrendous. On Tuesday I was faced with the most distressing court story I have ever had. I won't name the woman involved in the case, but she was facing a charge of concealing a child. Wondering what that means? It means she had a baby (without knowing she was pregnant) which was stillborn, and in a panic the traumatised woman put the body in a loft for a year, before telling her partner. It was the most desperate story I would ever write.

Behind the story was a sub-plot, not mentioned. The woman and her partner applied to the high court in London for an injunction to stop our paper writing about the story. It failed, but there was still the potential for the family to apply for a "section 39" order when it arrived in Spalding magistrates court.

Under section 39 of the child and young persons act 1933 magistrates have the power to impose anonymity on witnesses, defendents or complainants involved in a court case in adult court. In other words, had this been imposed on the woman's other children (who were mentioned in the case) we would not have been able to name them, or reference them in any way. The defence lawyers apply for it, the magistrates consider it, and then say yes or no.

I knew I was covering the story so spent an evening researching what I would do if the defence tried to convince the magistrates to apply this.

It's nerve-wracking. You have to stand up and address the court and everyone in it, clearly arguing your case. The opportunity for humiliation is massive, and I didn't sleep well, even though there were several arguments against the Section 39.

These included the facts that the children were not witnesses, defendants or complainants, the fact that the injunction had been thrown out, the fact that it would severely comprimise other aspects of the story, and the main point - that in the original injunction the woman's lawyers had admitted that if the injunction failed they could not apply for a section 39 because it was invalid.

They didn't even try and apply for it. I breathed a sigh of relief, but was also a little crestfallen - I have a 100 per cent record in overturning section 39 attempts, and was confident I would have done it again.

So I took the notes and we got the story. The woman was inconsolable as the grim particulars were read out. I felt terrible. The woman pleaded guilty and will be sentenced later in the month, but we now had the facts.

And then what? Where do we put it? Our photographer snapped her on the way in - do we use the photo? Do we name her? Do we comment on whether a case where there was no victim should ever have gone to court? Can we morally justify putting such an upsetting story on the front to sell papers? Do we even use it at all...

Asking around the office produced no concensus. Some wanted it front page with pic. Some wanted it page 3, no pic. Some wanted it front page, at the bottom, no pic. My opinion was that the front page was justified but the picture was harsh. People would recognise her at work, when she was picking her kids up from school, in the street - is there really any need to punish her further.

It ended up on page 2, no pic. I think we were all satisfied. Also ended up, disgracefully, in the Peterborough Evening Telegraph with another reporter's name on it.

Next time you read the paper you might want to think what goes on behind the scenes. It was certainly a story and process none of us will forget in a hurry.

Cole Corry

Just bought a block of tickets to Legoland.

Right, now that's out of the way (and don't say it doesn't make you chuckle when you get it) just a quick comment on a few things.

*Ashley Cole is out of the next England match against Byelorussia with a pulled hamstring and bruised ego. Yes, the bad pass for the Kazakhstan goal didn't help, but Cole sums up everything that's wrong with football, and no matter what he does on the pitch his attitude off it will overshadow it. Even £55,000 a week can't buy popularity.

*A little nervous tonight over something that I have to do tomorrow...will tell you if I was successful later in the week.

*Just watching Coronation Street, for my sins. Learning a few tips and bits of info about Stag dos. At the moment I'm not having a best man for mine (not till 2011 so I've got time to change my mind) but whenever I say that I get the strangest looks from people.

The simple reason is that I have no real friends from childhood, or secondary school who I regularly see. I haven't seen any of my uni mates or hourno study mates for years. In short, there is no best man for me. The best man should surely be your best friend, or someone you admire and have fun with above all others. He doesn't exist.

I intend to either do my own speech, or have several best men. A clutch of hardy warriors who've been next to me while I've struggled through thick and thin, and of course all other anatomical descriptions of ex-girlfriends.

We also don't intend to have a top table. In fact, we have so little money, we might not even have a table at all. Or a top. Skins it is then...

*Poland is two weeks away. Can't wait. Somebody said to me the other day: "Why haven't you pact?" I replied: "Warsaw the fuss about?" The first joke has been done, the second is fresh. For you.

Couple of vids you must look at

Two things you have to look at:

This is poor taste but hilarious
http://www.theonion.com/content/video/gunman_kills_15_potential_voters

And since it's World Cup Qualifier weekend a brief clip from Serie A. I'm not Ibrahmovic's biggest fan, but this is outrageous and brilliant:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDr71KzFy9c

Americans are often criticised for having a different sense of humour to us, but the Onion clip shows that to be wrong.

Random thoughts with a sprinkling of jokes

Whay did Princess Diana cross the road? Momentum.

Been away for a while now so hello to anyone who read the lack of posts and wondered if I'd died, or evaporated, or perhaps gone to live as a beggar in Sudan licking the feet of rich European visitors to earn dollars.

The truth is laziness mixed with apathy blended with a hectic jetsetting lifestyle. In the last week alone I've played in a ukulele gig, been to a comedy night, judged a cookery contest, gone to an auction, driven to Coventry, had friends down from Scotland, booked tickets to the Towers of London, and built a giant flying dolphin from DNA strains in tuna cans to take me over Mount Everest.

My philosophy is that if I don't have anything funny or interesting to say I won't write, rather than just dumping some literary turd all over a page for the sake of it. I'm not politically correct but I don't really care.

Having said that, I do have a level that I won't cross, unlike a comedian from last week who was telling some seriously sick jokes such as the one at the top of the page. Not sure where the boundary is. But if I ever became a stand-up, it wouldn't be through jokes like that.

"Asbos are now seen as some sort of badge of honour, they say in the news. What sort of honour is that? When I was a lad the Blue Peter badge was the one to get. Now that was a badge of honour. Now you're more lilely to see girls wearing badges saying "I Blue Peter" and Blokes wearing badges saying "I Blue Peter away."

There you go. That's my effort!

Random rubbish:

*Watching Coyote Ugly as I write this. Whatever happened to Piper Perabo? And where the hell did her parents pick up the name? My guess is that she was messed up. The Perabo surname sounds like a Venezuelan drug pusher, Piper sounds like the name of a 19-year-old Canadian hippy or something.

*The final X Factor 12 - the worst line-up since a queue formed for one of Max Moseley's special parties. Speaking of which, I've invited Seal, S Club 7 and We are Scientists to form a new collaboration at my Christmas party. They're called We Club Seals. Looking forward to it.

*Off to Warsaw in three weeks' time. In case you ask, yes, I have pact. Some will laugh at that. The others? Just google it.