Crash for Cash

CrashI really do just hate it.

I’ve recently been delving into the world of crash for cash, and become immersed in the trivia and detail that is an insurance claim of any sorts.

I’m afraid to say that my dearest better half was the victim of a suspected crash for cash situation.

Whilst awareness is now rising it’s still very much a viable income for the couch-bound, Jeremy-Kyle-watching reprobates of this world when in need of some funds for single cans of Stella and 10 packs of Superkings. Other repulsive lifestyles are available.

For those who haven’t heard of it, it goes down like this. Car A breaks sharply for no reason, Car B breaks to avoid hitting it and the victim then hits the rear of Car B. Car A does a getaway act, thus placing blame on the victim at the back. It should be noted that they do it where there’s no CCTV, and in places where your attention is drawn elsewhere, a roundabout for example.

Cue a car full of urchins crawling out, all amazingly complaining of ‘chronic backache’ et al (shocking at a ‘bump’ of less than 10 mph) which can’t be recovered from without fifteen grand. Each.

Obviously taking time off their busy lives is a very costly exercise; I never appreciated the cost of drinking white lightning at 09:30 in the morning.

I got a call from my missus incredibly shaken up. It’d just happened and she was really upset, understandably so. She told me what happened and where, and then the line went dead. I grabbed my stuff and left the office, dispatching an ambulance on the way. In my mind’s eye, she’d gone into shock or worse… and was unable to answer her phone as I tried to call her back.

Just before getting into my car to head over, I got a call from her phone. Answered in foreboding I prepared to hear from someone wearing fluorescent material. Luckily it wasn’t, she reassured me she was OK and I should meet her at work. Which I did.

Turns out, and really rather luckily, no real damage was done. They’d balls’d it up and crashed into each other instead. Car A made off and left Car B to try and scrape anything they could. After a visit to A&E, the police, countless calls to insurers, and with countless calls from ambulance chasers I bring myself to the present.

Having a crash is perhaps the easiest bit to deal with. You heal, and move on, if you’re lucky.

However there are consequences that reach far into the distance. The anxiety it can cause, some people giving their driving licence up, the granular amount of detail insurance go to (rightly so given the morons out there who consider this a living), the endless phonecalls from everyone and anyone, and the enormous hike in insurance prices makes driving seem a ridiculous way to travel – given the risks involved.

Not just to your physical being, but financial and emotionally too. I wasn’t even in the crash and I regularly feel my blood pressure spike, this very article is probably knocking an entire day off my life.

But the worst part about this whole thing is this… The better looking half is the sweetest person you’re likely to meet, and she holds human nature on a very tall pedestal. I’ve read long and hard about crash for cash, and so in the same circumstances would have behaved with suspicion, distrust and probably anger. She was genuinely concerned for their wellbeing, asking them how they were are. That’s the bit of this that makes me absolutely furious.

Now I’m pondering how to proceed. Should I mount George my high horse and dive head first into battle. Or dismiss it and hope that the people that get paid to look at matters like this do so.

The problem is, I’m a firm believer that remarkably few people give a shit.

It’s easy. Just split all the banks up.

High street banksThe labour leader, Ed Miliband is a blithering moron.

His latest political whim to force banks to sell branches to ‘help competition’ is a blatant exercise in leveraging banks’ poor reputation in the consumers’ eyes. “Hey, look at me guys, I’m forcing banks to sell branches, come and play for the red team because we’re having a go at banks now.”. Utter dumbfounded rubbish.

As a consumer of financial products, my clear priority is the affordability. I don’t take a mortgage because I’m jumping on a moral high horse and using a small hip ‘social-bank’ that’s diversifying the market , I take a mortgage with a provider because it’s cheap. Simple.

Now Mr Milliband, how do you get things cheap? I’ll refer you to the largest retailer on the planet… Wallmart. They are the cheapest provider of goods because they buy the most, it’s a simple equation, the more you buy, the cheaper it gets. WallMart and subsequently Asda in the UK can then pass on these smaller costs to us and in turn have become enormous – a self-perpetuating cycle. Yes, there’s a whole other debate on how hard suppliers should be squeezed, but as long as there’s other similar providers in the market, food will remain cheap and suppliers paid fairly.

Now onto my next point, the branch network of any high street bank attracts a proportionately small segment of it’s overall customer base. Will closing branches reduce the size of a bank? Of course not. If anything it’ll dissolution the customers not with the banks, but with the government itself. For example:


Dear Mr Customer,

I’m sorry to have to write to you with bad news. After we’ve maintained a physical presence in your town for x donkeys years, Ed and his merry band of puerile followers have made us close your convenient local branch.

I’m sure you’ll be delighted to know that despite having all your financial products with us, including Mortgages, Loans, Credit Cards, Savings and a few insurance policies, Ed is putting a new shiny gover-bank here that’ll cost twice as much, the staff won’t know what’s going on and will have no established reputation for you to trust with the most expensive products you manage.

If however, this doesn’t sound like an acceptable proposition, you can continue to bank with us as you’ve always done. Don’t worry, we’ve still got a branch in the town centre that we’ll keep open for you at the weekend because of all this.

Feel free to vote Tory, just in case you can’t be bothered with the agro.

Yours ever faithfully,

Mr long established banker.


Here we go, another ill-considered political fad, that will not result in any actual change. Just a whole bunch of effort.

Banks are getting there. Customer satisfaction is going up incrementally every month, and there’s a huge shift towards being a customer centric sector, making strides ahead of utility providers. A big push has just been through on increasing competition, the seven day switching proposition. Actually, as it turns out, people are generally speaking quite happy with their bank. They’re by no means delighted, but then who gets excited to phone the bank?

Go play with something else Ed, you’re trying to fix something that’s not actually broken.

Get better with every iteration

Monkey evolving into manI read today an interesting article about national debt and the deficit which in part caused it’s creation.

I suspect what I’m about to write may hold some inaccuracies, but as usual it’s my usual ramblings through my own thoughts, aired publicly for your amusement. And perhaps ridicule.

I find it odd that a country with wealth like ours can be so indebted. It is said that as you earn more, your lifestyle accordingly becomes more expensive, thus never really making you any more wealthy. I relate directly to that theory; I earn now perhaps three or four times what I did in my first full time job, but my proportionate disposable income doesn’t seem to be any greater. What with two mortgages, two vehicles, a menagerie of animals and a child, my turnover has never been higher, and my own money never been more scarce.

Does this relate then to how countries operate? Could it be that whilst astronomic in size, it’s much the same theory? We know we can afford more, but instead of being content with that notion we buy more, we effectively take on more debt.

I worry quite a bit about deficit. It’s a scary word. If I ran my accounts in deficit I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I’d have the bank calling, I’d have Mandy to answer to, but yet the country in which I reside has done it for so long. The very nature suggests an unsustainable pattern, which I think has gone on far too long. In 2007 the level of debt compared with GDP stood at 44 percentage points; last year it doubled to 88 percentage points. And it’s still climbing.

Don’t get me wrong, I fully believe that the current government are doing a sterling job of reducing it. By 2018 our deficit will be just two percent of the GDP, and the trend looks to continue until it becomes a surplus, and we can finally start to reduce the burden I often think about.

My worry is, rather unusually, democracy. Don’t worry, I’m not about to condemn it as a poor solution, but it does mean short tenures don’t ensure policies get followed through with.  We’re making great strides, especially in the welfare arena but I do worry that a change in 2015 may well undo a lot of the good already done.

An insightful person I work with now and again said when he comes to work, he is not creating a better business for himself, he is creating a better one for the next person to run and the person after that. I think in most roles, the majority of any good processes, procedures or models in place were created not by us, but our predecessors, we stand on the shoulders of their successes, and that’s my point here.

To make an entire country successful we have to selflessly ensure that the good we do today will be felt in five, or 10 years time. By creating a culture of helping the next guy do a great job will ensure that he in turn helps the guy after him. That, my friends, is how I would suggest a truly exceptional parliament to run. Enough of the bickering and name calling, enough pointing the finger and claims of “Please Miss, it wasn’t me, it was the one with the blue tie”.

Sustainable business works not only in business, but in every area of the world. It’s evolution, our bodies have being doing it subconsciously for us; we now need to do it consciously.

Get better with every iteration.

I suspect I’m growing up…

Two spoons with Mr and Mrs written onLike most amateur bloggers I feel I’ve become a little cliched in that I’ve not updated my blog for some time, and of course realise that it’s essentially pointless if I don’t update the darned thing every so often.

Sigh, I used to be so disciplined with my posts, if not a little eclectic with topic. So, dear reader, I suppose I should really give you a little insight into what’s been happening recently…

I think I’m justified in saying I’ve finally become a full, proper, bona fide adult. I asked a girl to marry me and as sheer good luck would have it she said yes. Not any girl I assure you, the one my entire world now revolves and the one to give me the best present I could possibly ask for; Jasper.

Now we’re not much into public displays of affection; I imagine so far as the wedding goes, Mandy is dreading that she will inevitably have to prove to the world that we are indeed a couple. But the show must go on, and I hope with every might that it will.

I appreciate there’s nothing ground breaking here, nothing you can take to the bank, but at least I’m back writing again. We’ve started planning the big day, and I’m sure as the inevitable stress of a woman on a mission culminates I’ll have more to say on the matter. For now, wish me luck…

Fail by design

Blown light bulbI remember the inception of mobile phones vividly. My first was a bright orange thing with green buttons, bought for £3 from a questionable source, I did always fear it’s previous owner longed for it back…

Since then, obtaining a new phone has for a while quenched my thirst for the latest model, until about two weeks later where there’s something newer and shinier on the market. The exponential development of these small devices still astounds me, I remember well when I first experienced a polyphonic ringtone I commented to a friend “Well the audio quality isn’t going to get much better than that is it?”.

It’s said that the average mobile phone user owns three handsets on top of the one they are currently using, which goes to show what a disposable commodity they are. Imagine walking to Argos for a new landline phone, and them telling you that it’ll cost £600, but will only last two years? You’d laugh! But seemingly, that’s what we all do for mobiles.

These little handsets consume so much of our time. My partner Amanda spends hours glaring into the little portal of pixels, endlessly scanning facebook for something, anything noteworthy, or directing little bubbles into clusters of three.

When I owned the iPhone, I remember being truly fascinated by it, well for a month at least. It was a 3GS, I paid and extra fiver a month to have the 19th letter appended to the end of the model number, and by god it was speedy!

The problem with iPhones though, is they are too designed. Odd problem I hear you question. My point is though, they’re designed to outdate quickly. Very niche stylistically, and the constant churn of the Apple machine means there’s a constant flow of new models replacing and outdating the old ones. Only six months will go by and the iPhone quickly becomes wallpaper in your hand.

On a complete whim, I walked into a well known mobile phone retailer (purporting to be a combination of elements) to buy the latest generic iPhone and walked out instead with an HTC. Within a month, I downloaded a firware update which literally broke the phone. The Oxygen company obliged our contractual agreement and provided me with a new one, with specific instruction to wait until the next update. Fair enough really.

Even in spite of this small glitch (which apparently removed their entire profit margin for this phone) I’ve never been so contented with a phone. Two years down the line, I have absolutely no desire to ditch it for the newer shinier model. I’ve become quite fond of this little phone (or rather, huge phone – relative to the size of iPhones).

The clever chaps at the South Korean firm rammed this sleek bit of rubberised metal with as much of the technology as they could, leaving nothing up their sleeve for future models. But then I suppose it’s not a particularly clever business model at all is it? I liken it to lightbulbs. They design incandescent bulbs to fail. Simple really, design something with a predetermined lifespan, and you’ll get repeat custom again and again. It is said that if you were to buy a lightbulb by Thomas Eddison’s blueprint, it would stay functional for as long as the fluorescent energy-saver models.

Interesting ey? Successful businesses work by producing products designed to fail.

Information tax

George Orwell's Big BrotherI’m a little worried.

I’ve been thinking about automation and computers a lot recently; more specifically, their impact on us.

I had a conversation with some people at work that are a little longer in the tooth than I, and they recalled a time when you came to work and took out a pen and wrote things down. I’m incredibly sad I haven’t been part of this time; I write with a fountain pen, and use a specific shade of green ink that I imported from the states, I have to don gloves every time I refill my pen. And all I ever do with it is write to-do lists, or bullet point actions from a meeting. It’s so sad that I never write any ideas down.

Nowadays, we come to work and the very first thing we do is turn a screen on in front of us, and punch in a series of digits that is the key to our online real estate. We don’t share ideas anymore, we stuff them into a box on our desk, which talks to a million other boxes, recording the information and making assumptions about us.

It makes my skin crawl that whenever I now go online, the adverts at either side target parents with nine month old children, coincidence? Yeah right.

It seems that we’ve inherited a new tax, one that doesn’t make people angry whenever it’s collected, and one that doesn’t hit headlines every four years. There is no such thing as free, and while Google, or ‘the Cloud’, or free wifi hotspots all seem harmless enough; they all collect their tax in a very subtle and worrying way. They harvest information about us, it’s almost like the Matrix harvesting the electrical charge from our bodies to power machines; our ideas, our perceptions, our preferences, are harvested like corn to feed the supercomputers’ undying need for more and more information.

What worries me too is that we’re on the verge of machines now being able to fix themselves; 3D printers now exist, and are able to print intricate and complicated parts. Machines can now simply order new parts to be manufactured by a machine, and be installed by a machine. So through all of this, what’s the point in our existence?

We were once a skilled race that could build beautiful things, however more and more the jobs out there are simply mediums for putting information into ‘The Cloud’. It was said that the digital revolution would bring jobs and prosperity, however I struggle to see where that has realised. The jobless culture thrives, and it seems more and more jobs now entail staring aimlessly into a box.

What is the price of the free services that are offered for only a little information? An email address, your date of birth? How about the inability to secure lending, or secure a decent job because of the information that exists on your profile in the online space. Once something is written here it is never truly deleted, everything is backed up in data centres, archived for eternity. Today’s news will line tomorrows waste paper basket I hear you say? I don’t think so, that very information will decide where the waste paper basket is placed, and what it is made from.

Sleep (Optional)

Jasper

Well, Jasper is shortly to turn nine months old, and by god, what a nine months it’s been.

I thought it would be only right to share my thoughts on what have been probably the most traumatic and rewarding 18 months of my life.

From the very first afternoon I learnt I was to be a parent, to now being skilled at completing nearly every domestic task one handed; the learning curve has been steep and exponential, with no sign of a plateau to come yet…

Firstly, for anyone reading this and flirting with the idea of becoming a parent, the one point I’ve taken away from all this is you don’t need that much sleep. I mean physically, you can get by on far less sleep than you think you may need. It’s been more than a year since Mandy and I have slept through the night. In fact, we often reminisce fondly of a time when we could go to bed and know the next time our eyes would open would be 11AM on a Sunday morning; these days it’s more like 5AM.

That said, it’s been the most rewarding time I can possibly describe. It’s almost like the feeling you get after a physical hardship; climbing a mountain, running a marathon etc… Except you get the accomplished feeling on a daily basis. I suppose it goes to show that every day is a challenge, but it’s the challenges that make it all the more the worthwhile.

Now on the practical side of parenting, there are innumerable products out there that are brilliant, and there are even more that are poorly thought out and impractical. The only common denominator between them all is they are so heavily marketed it can sometimes become hard to get through your front door because of all the junk mail that seemingly appears from nowhere.

Bottles

Tommee Tippee know how to make bottles, Avant do not. Tommee Tippee I think at some stage have actually met a real life baby, whereas Avant can’t really comprehend what a baby is, my guess is they just presume it’s a perfectly formed human, just very small. For instance, the former company cleverly knows that a baby doesn’t quite yet understand the principle of pressure differences, and so mitigate a baby’s lack of knowledge with a rather simple valve that does the pressure stabilising for them.

Trying to feed a baby with an Avant bottle is an absolute chore; after about five seconds of feeding, said baby has created a near perfect vacuum inside the bottle, and goes red in the face trying to get the next drop of milk. The only way to easily counter this, is to drag the bottle out of their mouth every five seconds. It takes Jasper about 15 minutes to consume seven ounces, thus meaning we have to remove the bottle, allow the pressures to stabilise and get him to start again 180 times… every time he feeds. Avant, please be better, or for the love of god, hang up your bottle making lines.

Poppers, zips and buttons

Babies don’t like to get dressed, and they’re awkward little buggers too. There are some clothing manufacturers out there that make quite aesthetically pleasing outfits, but use maybe one or two fixings to get it to fasten. Babies aren’t renowned for being skilled contortionists, but I can only assume that is what these companies think, as trying to get a brand new baby into a baby grow where you have to thread the entire baby through a sleeve just so it looks marginally cuter is ridiculous and causes significantly more stress than it should.

My advice on this particular subject then, the more poppers, zips and buttons the better. Seriously, a garment made entirely from these fixing would make life much easier.

Key message

Sleep. I love it, and remember it fondly. If you can, take every moment of it, because when the patter of tiny feet start kicking the footboard of their bed you won’t get much.

Waking up before the magic eight

Man wakes up to alarmMost people that know me will agree that I’m old before my time. And they’re probably right. I embrace being grumpy, I like to make it be known what a sorry state of things are, but it occurred to me last night that I truly am getting old.

When setting an alarm for morning on my phone, it tells me how long it is until I’m required to hit snooze. If I see anything under eight hours I pre-emptively plan for a day spent yawning and drinking enough caffeine to wake the dead. All I need is to see 7 Hours 35 Minutes to be displayed and I’m feverishly trying to get to sleep as soon as possible, panicking that I may sleep through the entire following day. There is however one part of me that refuses to age, and that’s my reliance on technology.

I always presumed that one day technology would flummox me, even now I see people refuse to learn how to use a new device, Mandy being the prime example. I bought her a tablet for her birthday last year (possibly the biggest waste of money of 2012), and now Jasper uses it on a daily basis.

It got me thinking, my parents grew up with relatively small advances in consumer technology. From being kids to around the 90s, landlines didn’t really change, TVs got a bit of colour then grew a bit (plus a change in aspect ratio), mobiles made a rather bulky appearance, and PCs took tentative steps into the mass market. But since then, the number appended to the word PlayStation has made a steady incline, the quality in video has gone from silver halide film, to magnetic tape, to hard disk drives, to solid state memory all in a decade or two, they say by the time the first PC of a new line makes it onto the first desk it’s already out of date and my mobile bought last year has more processing power than the laptop I’m using which is only four years old.

Am I then, part of a new generation; where our parents were good at being frugal and home cooking, my lot are just able to use technology intuitively? I love getting a new bit of software, or phone or any advancement come to mention it; even a firmware update will see me put an hour or two onto tech forums to see what’s changed, the feeling of finding the newest shortcut or navigating the most recent layout still interests me. Then I remember my mate Dave, who has in the past few months finally joined us in the 21st century with an iPhone, now all that’s left to concur is his archaic Windows 95 machine…

Maybe it’s just me then, maybe one day when tech becomes biotech and we all get a chip buried into our grey matter and instead of learning how to do things we download it a-la-Neo, maybe then I’ll be reluctant to update, reluctant to change. Until then, Mr Android, what’s next?

Cats prevent mobile usage

Kitten being tickled by ownerI love my phone. It keeps me in touch, there’s a world of information to delve within and I can speak to people whilst skirting their presence.

O2 like the fact that I like my phone, and for £40 month why wouldn’t they? I love O2’s customer service; in complete reciprocity to Three, they just get it right time and again.

My phone was, in part, sold to me under the guise of being able to connect to the internet, and when hooked up to my seemingly overpriced Sky broadband does so brilliantly. Even with Jasper listening to Spotify and Mandy surfing FaceBook/eBay, I’m still able to browse to my heart’s content.

Why then, am I unable to access the sprawling rainforest of information that is the world wide web, when my phone isn’t suckling from the teat of Mr Murdoch? I think I might make a claim against O2 for mis-advertising this shiny bit of glass that lies beneath my thumbs. For some reason they call it a mobile, when the reality of its actual abilities aren’t quite realised because there are too many videos of cats being watched, thus leaving no bandwidth for my very important activities that are absolutely necessary.

I’m one step short of dragging a LAN cable around with me, as connecting to the 3G system is more comparable to queuing for Nemesis at Alton Towers. Don’t get me started on that godforsaken place, that’s for another time.

They say that 4G will revolutionise surfing the web on ‘mobiles’…

Will it buggery. Content will become richer, and the river that is the information to your phone will be just as dried up and arid. Only in bigger proportions.

Please for the love of Jebus, O2, stop dishing out phones to every man and his dog, without investing more money in the hardware necessary for our phones to be useful.

I’m now looking forlornly into my tiny little portal to the web, perpetually fogged by an incessantly slow loading bar… trying in vain to upload this blog.

Whilst I was waiting, I found this video of a cat, its pretty cute I’m sure you’ll agree.

Instagram has killed photography

Instagram logo in black and whitePhotography for me has always been a simmering passion. I’ve never really committed loads of money or time to it, but I understand how it works in quite some detail, and can always get a great shot out of my trusty 450d on the fully manual setting.

I understand all about f-stop settings, and shutterspeeds, how that impacts the focus every so slightly and how different levels of zoom can cause varying levels of chromatic aberration.

I know how the fairly commonly used ISO setting on most cameras was derived from different grades of film, and historically a film was referred to as being slower when the ISO number is lower (because it takes a slow aperture setting to achieve the same image density).

It really annoys me then, that the fine art of photography that I’ve spent a lifetime learning has been killed by Instagram. I’m sick of underexposed, and overexposed shots appearing on various feeds and walls; they’re always distorted and technically rubbish… and all to achieve that ‘arty’ feel. I read in a blog that a couple in America had their entire wedding shot on an iPhone and processed through Instagram, imagine in 10 years when Instagram has fallen by the wayside like Bebo or MySpace and they don’t have a wedding album, just a load of poor quality thumbnails.

I suppose, in time, this fad will be surpassed by something else; my fear though is that as cameras get more intelligent, my favourite ‘M’ function will demise, followed by the rest that offer any form of control. Arty shots will eventually be decided by the camera and gone will be the days when faffing with knobs and buttons got the image to look just right, all by your own fair hand.