FoodCycle, GoodSAM, The Samaritans, 1981 Keele/BBYO Redux & Being Boilered, This Is Lockdown 3.0, 20 February 2021

With thanks to Rachelle Gryn Brettler for snapping us in Rossmore Road, preparing to do our FoodCycle run on a wet winter’s day

We don’t get out much in Lockdown 3.0, other than to buy food and do our charity work.

That is giving me a chance to crack on with my retro-blogging; I’m working through 1995 & 1996 to cover the Ged & Daisy (Ian & Janie) “25 years ago” story. I’m needing to give more thought, though, to the formerly less well-documented, “40 years on” story of my early days at Keele University.

Strangely, 1981 and 2021 seem to have collided, forty years on.

I wrote last summer about my joy at being asked to make our FoodCycle collections from St Paul’s in Rossmore Road

…mentioning the superb tapes Graham Greenglass used to make for me, including quirky numbers such as Rossmore Road by Barry Andrews. I still hum it or sing it more often than not when Daisy and I do FoodCycle from there:

Dreamy use of sax and double bass on that track.

Last week, I wrote up the very weekend during which several visitors descended on Keele and Graham presented me with a few cassettes, including that very track. The piece below is a thumping good read, even if you weren’t there, including an excellent undergraduate recipe for spaghetti bollock-knees:

On Wednesday, before Daisy and I did our FoodCycle run, I did an NHS Responder gig to collect a prescription. Strangely the prescription was to be collected at the Tesco Hoover Factory in Greenford. Strange, because also on that little collection of quirky recordings given to me in February 1981 was the song Hoover Factory by Elvis Costello:

So, by some strange quirk of fate, forty years after being given recordings of those two rather obscure (but wonderful) recordings about lesser-known places in West London, I found myself doing charity gigs from those two very places.

I have already written up the ear worm I got from Hoover Factory a few months after first hearing the song:

But the early 1980s connection this week does not stop there.

While I have been cracking on with the NHS Responder/GoodSAM app as well as FoodCycle, Daisy has been training to become a Samaritan and this week moved on from being a course trainee to becoming a mentee (i.e. doing real sessions with real calls under the supervision of a mentor).

Towards the end of her course, Daisy had been waiting with a little trepidation to find out who her mentor might be. Mentors work closely with their mentees for a few weeks. She knew that it might be one of her course trainers or possibly someone she hadn’t encountered before.

A couple of weeks ago Janie announced that her mentoring instructions had come through and her mentor was a new name to her: Alison Shindler.

GED: Oh, yes, I know Alison Shindler.

DAISY: What do you mean?

GED: She was a leading light in BBYO towards the end of my time there.

DAISY: Might not be the same person…

GED: …Ealing BBYO – bet it is!

Of course it is.

What a pleasant surprise.

Less of a surprise though, after their first session together, is that Alison & Daisy seem to be getting along really well. I’m confident that the mentoring partnership should be a very good one.

Meanwhile Alison has furnished me with a photo from so far back in the day, the biggest surprise is that we were in colour back then:

With thanks to Alison Shindler for this photo

That’s a c17-year-old me turning around, next to me Simon Jacobs who was central to my “going to Keele” story and part of the “cooking weekend”. In the red scarf I thought was Jilly Black (who has remained friends with me, Daisy and Alison throughout those decades – in fact it is a little surprising we haven’t overlapped before now )…but it turns out to be Emma Cohen disguised as Jilly. Opposite Simon is Lauren Sterling plus, slightly upstaged by Simon’s head, Caroline Curtis (then Freeman) who visited me and Simon at Keele the February 1981 weekend following the “cooking” one.

It’s all too weird, in a good way.

But now, after all that excitement, Daisy and I are in temporary exile at the flat. The replacement of the Noddyland boiler has over-run by a day, making Daisy right and me wrong, as usual.

Stock boiler image: neither the actual old nor the actual new boiler

I’ve been grasping for a quirky early 1980s musical connection for a boiler replacement. So my earworm for the tail end of this tale is by that early 1980s mainstay, The Human League – Being Boiled:

Dumbo, One Of The Unsung Heroes Of The Pandemic Volunteer Effort, Reflects On 2020, 1 January 2021

Dumbo: seriously cool…and honest

Dumbo The Suzuki Jimny is an occasional writer, here on Ogblog and also at King Cricket. Dumbo’s writings are more widely read than those of most automobiles. Dumbo only ever refers to me as Ged and to Janie as Daisy. Why Dumbo has chosen to write a “review of the year” public message is a mystery, but 2020 was a strange year in so many ways.

2020 started badly for me. I acquired a squeak that would not go away. It was incredibly loud and hugely embarrassing – heads would turn in the street at the sound of me coming and going.

A huge team at my car hospital struggled to get to the bottom of it. Ged and Daisy started dropping hints about my possible retirement. It got as bad as that.

Eventually, just before lockdown, thank goodness Derek, Colin, & Marlon performed a pioneering operation on my viscera, which solved my problem.

Just as well I got better in mid March, because within a few weeks I was being called upon to do voluntary work.

In theory I was on call for NHS Volunteer Responders from early in the pandemic, but no gigs were coming through at first. So Ged and Daisy signed us up to do FoodCycle gigs once or twice a week, which we have continued to do throughout the pandemic.

My copious rear (as Ged describes it) comes in pretty handy, especially for the FoodCycle gigs.

It wasn’t long before the NHS Volunteer Responder gigs started to come through as well. That and FoodCycle kept us really busy through spring, summer and into the autumn.

Just occasionally, it got a bit much; like the time the NHS Volunteer Responder app went into overdrive…

…and the time Daisy inadvertently switched on the voice recognition for the FoodCycle Circuit Teams app and mentioned Madagascar…

Ged was busy with work the last few weeks of the year, so we did a bit less volunteering in the run up to Christmas, but during that time the pandemic got a lot worse again and the need out there started to rocket up, so we started NHS Volunteer Responding again on Christmas Day and have done lots of gigs since.

My proudest moment of the year was just a few days ago, when Ged and I went to the Co-op on Hanger Hill to get some shopping for a person who is having to isolate. (There seem to be a lot of those at the moment.)

Three young fellas from the Tesla Show Room & Shop around the corner came out of the Co-op just before Ged came out with the shopping. The young fellas stopped to admire me and one of them said, “I think these cars are pretty cool”. Ged overheard him and said, “seriously cool, not just pretty cool”.

So I don’t think Ged & Daisy will be dropping hints about my retirement again any time soon. I think we’re going to be pretty busy with NHS Volunteer Responding & FoodCycle for the next few months at least.

Which is pretty seriously cool.

A Voyage Around My Neighbourhood & My Past, 21 July 2020

After my “NHS Volunteer Responder App Going Berserk” experience the previous Friday…

…it was with some trepidation I switched on the app on my next visit to my Notting Hill “Ivory Tower” the following Tuesday afternoon.

Once bitten twice shy, though. I now knew to regulate my own uptake of the calls by waiting a while between accepting a task and making the call, or between completing a task and confirming that the task was done and that I was available again.

Thus I was able to field another half-dozen or so calls while also completing the work tasks that I had undertaken to do that afternoon.

The last of those calls did want some shopping. The woman sounded old. With a heavy Caribbean accent, she almost apologised for needing help. Her son had been getting shopping for her all the while, but he had developed a chesty-something and the doctor had recommended that he isolate. Sounds sensible.

She didn’t need much and she hoped that I could get everything she needed from the pound shop on Portobello Road, which is just a couple of minutes walk from her place. Otherwise there is a Sainsbury’s (other supermarket chains are available) just opposite the Poundland (other pound shop chains are available)…

…that’s fine, I said, after making sure we had clarity on the payment protocol…

…I told her I’d be about an hour, as I resolved to finish my work, “shut up shop” in the Ivory Tower and get her shopping on my way back to Noddyland…

…no rush, she said, she didn’t want to inconvenience me too much.

…no trouble, I said, delighted to help.

It must have been about 17:45 by the time I parked up in Elgin Crescent (close to her place and the pound shop).

Photo taken lunchtime a few days later

It was a glorious sunny evening. The pavement outside the Duke of Wellington was heaving with trendy young folk eating, drinking and making merry. Trustafarians, mingling with local folk and people who work in the area.

This end of Portobello is the part where bijou Notting Hill meets social housing Notting Hill.

The street scene looked like Portobello as I had always imagined it before I moved to the area, but never really lived it, although I have lived in the neighbourhood now for well north of 30 years.

I hadn’t seen scenes like this since before lockdown…not since last summer…in truth I’d never really seen scenes like this before – it was as if the Notting Hill of my imaginings, back in the 1980s, when I chose to come and live here, had suddenly been brought into existence, filmically, in this time of pandemic. It certainly showed no signs of social distancing or increasing social need.

Social housing/bijou housing/social housing…

But just around the corner from that hedonistic street festival was an old lady who needs a few things from the pound shop so that she can get by for a few days; her son is ill and she was almost too proud to ask for help with her shopping.

Indeed, just up the road and around the corners are lots of people who need help, because my responder app goes off as often as I let it and the need for FoodCycle deliveries seems to be going up and up still.

But in many ways this is still the Notting Hill where I chose to pitch my tent 30+ years ago. It always was a strange mix of gentility and grunge.

Stand in the middle of Portobello Road at a suitable junction, such as the Elgin/Colville/Portobello one shown above, look one way and you can see boutique-style shops & The Electric…

…look the other way for the Sally Army, pound shops and (if you venture even further north), informal hawkers under the flyover on a market day.

Anyway, the pound shop indeed had all of the food items that my elderly client had requested. I had no idea that pound shops sold quality-stamped Danish bacon and posh-looking tubs of tiramisu for a pound each. Now I know.

Feeling like a mighty hunter who had landed his prey, I swaggered around the corner to my client with her swag. Old school Notting Hill, her place; a conversion in one of the many old, somewhat dilapidated, Victorian houses around there; not vastly different in architectural style from my place.

The client really did look old; late 80s or possibly even 90. She’d have hardly been a youngster when I moved in to the neighbourhood; she’d have been…

…57 or 58…

…that’s what I am now. There’s a pause for thought.

She thanked me. I wished her good luck and hoped she would enjoy her food.

Less than a minute later, I was back at the youthful throng of Portobello/Elgin:

Heaving even more, it was.

I couldn’t help wondering whether some of these trustas might deploy some of their energy towards volunteering. They mostly didn’t look as though they were demob happy after a hard day’s work. They mostly looked as though they had not yet been mobilised on much, ever, in their lives, other than looking good and having a jolly time.

As I drove back to Noddyland, I resolved to write up this little episode, but then realised that I hadn’t taken any pictures for the blog.

I then also realised that I had in fact never taken any pictures around Portobello. Back in the late 1980s, you didn’t tend to take pictures around your own environment…

…why would you?

So I resolved to return at lunchtime on the Friday and snap a few. They depict the market on a Friday lunchtime, rather than the hedonistic bar/cafe life of that Tuesday late afternoon, but the sun shone and I think I snapped a few nice pics around abouts my own manor.

…And Then, For No Apparent Reason, The Volunteering Went Into Overdrive, 15 & 17 July 2020

The Government is encouraging people to try and get back to “normal”, whatever that might be, while the pandemic is in its summer recess. This doesn’t seem to have reduced the load on charities, such as FoodCycle, nor yet on the needs emerging for NHS Volunteer Responders.

What it is achieving, though, is a reduced volunteer force…

…Janie was back to work this week, but she’s not letting that stop her from continuing with the volunteering, at least for now…

…yet I get bemused looks from plenty of people when I tell them that our voluntary workload is increasing.

Two examples this week.

FoodCycle Marylebone 15 July 2020

Probably a temporary glitch, for this project, which we have been supporting by doing deliveries for nearly three months now. The delivery load has increased to three teams these past few weeks, but this week, try as they might, they could only find two so we needed to take on an extra half load.

That meant 16 deliveries; 32 bags full (sir).

Our previous record; 24 bags. “32 bags full sir” required some strategic stacking

Mostly on the Lisson Green Estate, plus one or two blocks on the Church Street side and a few up in Maida Vale; mostly people we’d delivered to before, which helps.

When there’s something strange…
…in your neighbourhood…
…who ya gonna call?…
…I said, who ya gonna call???…
FoodCycle!!

As usual, we got a lot of satisfaction from this gig; huge amounts of gratitude from the guests who clearly need the food and really appreciate our help.

But it really was a bit of a marathon this week. Back to three teams for Marylebone next week; Janie and I are grateful.

The Day My NHS Volunteer Responder App Went Berserk, 17 July 2020

Back in May, I wrote up the very first gig Janie and I did for the NHS Volunteer Responder scheme. We had been waiting best part of two months before we got our first gig:

I’d clocked up some 800+ hours of “duty” by then:

Since May, we’ve both had a steady stream of calls. Not all that many, frankly, but around a dozen gigs each (more if you count the “no shows”), which, from what I can gather, is significantly above average.

I think the run rate has been increasing slightly, but when the first eight weeks is metaphorical dot balls and the next few weeks is ones, twos and the occasional four, it is hard to be overly analytical about the rate.

Then came Friday 17th July.

I relocated to the flat, for the first time in months, as Janie was taking patients at the house and I thought it was about time I collected the post, flushed the loo, ensured the computer was working/updated properly and got on with preparation for the Z/Yen Board meeting. Frankly, now we do everything in the cloud, I could now do Board preparation work from pretty much anywhere without shlepping loads of files or papers.

I’m not entirely sure what triggered the storm that followed, but basically the NHS Volunteer Responder App decided that, as soon as I closed one call, it wanted to alert me to another one.

I didn’t really notice it earlier in the day. My first call took a while to close. An utterly charming South-East Asian woman – Vietnamese I think from the name – who didn’t answer the first time I called and then wanted to come off the calling scheme as she is no longer isolating and is returning to work. The first such call I have taken, I called the support line to establish the protocol for doing that – basically the woman herself needs to call the support line to be removed from the scheme.

Perhaps my first ever human (telephone) interaction with the scheme itself triggered a new status on my account…

Super-responder. Bit of a mug – probably will help pick up all the slack everywhere. Bombard with calls until this responder expires.

…or perhaps the algorithm detected “a new kid in town” around Notting Hill and there happened to be a lot of business around there on Friday.

Most of the calls were delightful folk who really appreciated the scheme, had used it when they needed stuff but didn’t, as it happens, need any help that day. One other person wanted to come off the scheme and I advised her on how to do that, now I am an expert on that protocol.

As the afternoon went on and my little “ivory tower” office heated up, I decided to return to Noddyland, taking one last call. I think my 12th of the day. A charming gentleman in Earls Court who did, on this occasion, as it happened, need a prescription collected and one or two other things from the pharmacy.

In truth, I was glad to at least have one of my calls today result in an errand, even though it was a little out of my way on a hot day.

I ran the errand and returned to my car, opened the windows and checked my messages.

I picked up one message from a client that absolutely needed dealing with before I could draw stumps on my working week, but my mobile phone battery was already running low (NHS Volunteer Responder does that) so I arranged a call with the client for 30-45 minutes hence, when I’d be home.

Then I cleared the good deed I had just done by clicking the “completed task” button.

The responder went off again instantly.

I realised that I should switch myself off duty, so I hit the “reject call” button and switched myself to “off duty”.

The responder went off again instantly.

The “off duty” signal must have crossed in the post with that one, I thought. So I rejected that call and started the engine of my car.

The responder went off again instantly.

I’m starting to sweat a little now. I rejected that call. I had now been off duty for a good two or three minutes.

The responder went off again instantly.

I rejected the call and closed down the app. That would shut it up, surely?

The responder went off again instantly.

People in the street are starting to look. It’s not a quiet thing, the NHS Volunteer Responder App. It has been borrowed from the Royal Voluntary Service GoodSam scheme for emergency defibrillation, so it sounds like an emergency alarm.

In fact, if you haven’t heard it before, brace your lug holes and listen to this:

There was only one thing for it, I deleted the NHS Volunteer Responder App from my phone.

That did shut it up.

I reloaded the app later on, once I had spoken to my client, cooled down and seen real umpires draw stumps on the test match day. In short, once I had fully recovered my composure.

Fully recovered

I dread to think what might happen if the UK Government’s world beating “track and trace” app can go into that sort of overdrive. Perhaps best not to think about it.

Joking apart, that bizarre day was unusually rewarding. Swathes of gratitude from people, many of whom don’t need a lot of help (or rather, they have their own sources of help) but feel much reassured by the periodic calls to know that they have a back up service that will seek them out if they find themselves needing the help. It must be a very vulnerable feeling, to be shielding for several months and needing people to help you. Even if we are mostly just providing some psychological comfort to shielding people, as much as the occasional “errand running” gigs that form part of the deal, I think it is a very worthwhile service.

Plenty of calls for me again the next day, too. So I think this is partly about a build up of demand and a reduction in supply. Anyone out there who hasn’t volunteered yet, simply because you’ve heard there is no demand…that’s not so…

…please volunteer!

Finally We Really Are NHS Responders, 19 May 2020

Daisy loading up Dumbo with our first NHS Responder client’s shopping.

The morning after the Government announced the NHS Responder scheme for the Covid-19 crisis, 25 March, Janie and I both signed up for it.

Even before the Government scheme, we had joined the local community volunteering network, but it was clear that, apart from a bit of help for older/isolating neighbours that we (Janie) pretty much would have done anyway, there’s far more supply than demand in Noddyland.

My NHS Responder application was accepted very quickly (27th March), whereas Janie had to wait quite a few more days before her application was accepted. Clearly my bona fides for such matters simply shone through my application, whereas Janie’s needed more thorough checking.

Then the waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

We knew the initiative had got started to some extent, because Cathy Driscoll, wife of my old school pal Paul, had been a Daily Telegraph poster child (somewhat to her chagrin) for the pilot launch in the first half of April.

Anyway, Janie was especially keen that we do something and started investigating charity options, hence the valuable and rewarding work we have been doing with FoodCycle:

We’ve now done several gigs for FoodCycle and intend to do more.

But until very recently, silence from NHS Responder.

The thing that seems to have changed is the fact that we can now play tennis and are going through West Ealing to Boston Manor and back to do that.

On Monday (18th), our NHS Responder alarms went off just as we were leaving the tennis courts. That potential gig turned out to be a false alarm, as the gentleman we called told us that neighbours were helping him regularly and he didn’t need any other help at the moment. I suspect that he has been set up on the system for a weekly call just in case the neighbours let him down.

The next day, Janie’s responder went off while I was driving us back from the tennis courts. This time, there was a real need for a woman with suspected Covid-19 who cannot do her own shopping at the moment.

“OMG, what do we do now?” we both thought, having steeped ourselves in the instructions/protocols back in early April, but having done other stuff under other protocols since then.

Fortunately, the “NHS Respondee” woman didn’t want a rapid response – indeed she even suggested that we might leave it until the next day as she hadn’t yet composed her shopping list, so we had time to go home, freshen up, mug up and return to the client to collect her instructions and fulfil the gig an hour or two later.

The list looked extensive to me with a few luxury items on it and she had furnished us with a mere £40 for the shop. I thought we’d have to leave some items out.

Her instructions were explicit, although it proved to be like a bit of a treasure hunt to find the exact outlets she wanted us to use for the exact products that she gets at those exact prices.

This is not our world and it was eye-opening.

Of course, our client knew what everything cost so her £40 was almost but not entirely exhausted and we managed to get all of the items.

She seemed like a very nice woman and was extremely grateful and pleased when we got to the end of it.

And of course NHS Responder alerts are like buses – you wait for ages and ages and then two come along at the same time. The alarm went off again while we were doing that gig in West Ealing.

I guess the lesson is that there is more volunteer supply than demand in West Acton, whereas in West Ealing there is more demand than supply.

I suspect we’ll see some more action if we keep playing tennis down at Boston Manor – all the more reason to go there.