Jester has moved

I have been posting blogs on this site and another for some time. I have now decided that I want to reduce the time taken to blog (by about 1½ minutes or so) because I have so little time on our home computer so I regret that from now on, I will no longer post my blogs on this site. You can still read Tales from the Dark Satanic Mill at the address below:

http://goodwilljester.wordpress.com

Sorry, Blogspot.

Sir Topham Hat's departure continued.

Well, the dust has had a bit of time to settle at the Dark Satanic Mill and we're getting used to the idea of not having a Fat Controller around anymore. I am still quite ambivalent about it all. I never liked the man and, as long as nobody emerges to take his place, it will be a more comfortable Satanic Mill in which to work. There is a "but" here; I am still uncomfortable about the way he departed.

Yesterday, I asked one of our Team Managers if she knew the story. She said that she has heard that he was told by the new Customer Operations Director that his job had ceased to exist and it was suggested that he and the company go their separate ways. Well, actually, the company would stay put and the Fat Controller would leave. I think leaving was one alternative but I don't have a clue what the other one was and it may be that he didn't either. Maybe he was asked to go on the phones with the rest of the hoi polloi. That would have been an interesting experience for him.

I'm sure the Fat Controller has got a nice redundancy package and will find somewhere else to use his man-management skills and new staff on whom to exercise his charm. There is to be no replacement, although there has been a slight restructure within the Mill, with even more Chiefs to lord it over the Indians.

I think I might have said this before but Plus c'est la même chose, plus ça change.

Jester bids Farewell to the Fat Controller.

It is with great regret that I have to announce the departure from the Dark Satanic Mill of Mad Eye Moody aka The Fat Controller.

Yesterday, when I came into work, rumours were already doing the rounds that he had left the company. The first rumour I heard was that he had had a disagreement with the new Customer Operations Director on Friday and had been suspended. I later heard that he had been sacked and then that he had walked out.

Today, we received an e-mail confirming his departure. Here is the announcement so you can see just how specious (thanks to my husband for coming up with the word) and hypocritical (my word) business announcements can be:

I announce that [Sir Topham Hat], Director of Claims Management for [the Dark Satanic Mill], has decided to move on to pursue other opportunities outside the [Satanic Mill] Group.

As a result of proposed changes to our operational structure, I have agreed with [Topham] that he will not be required to continue to support the operation and therefore this takes place with immediate effect.

I am sure that you will join me in thanking [Topham] for his effort and commitment to [the Dark Satanic Mill] over the past 2 and a half years and we wish him every success for the future.

IK

Customer Operations Director

(I would like to apologise for the poor quality of this announcement. Had I composed it, it would have been far more pleasant to read.)

Now, there was no love lost between the Fat Controller and me and I am not sad to see him go (in fact I have been experiencing the most base schadenfreude imaginable about it all day) but I am a tad uncomfortable about it all. There is a genuinely Machiavellian feel to all this and I am confident that the first rumour I heard, was the closest one to the truth. Clash of personalities or not, I get the feeling that the Dark Satanic Mill was not big enough for the two big men.

What is more, with the Fat Controller gone, I have lost a valuable source of stories for this blog. That is a real shame.

Jester, Annual Leave and Amusing Quotes, a Postscript

I mentioned in a previous blog that I had almost run out of Annual Leave. It was a great worry to me at the time because it meant that I would not be able to take any time off over Christmas and would not be able to go and visit my family, who live a long way away from me. I shouldn't have worried. It was simply our Resource Planning Department showing me just how many brain cells they have between them.

I smelled a rat when I totted up just how much leave I have taken to be with Bobbie when she goes to clinic. I've been at the Dark Satanic Mill for over 11 years now and my leave entitlement has gone up to the maximum, 216 hours. After some rapid mental arithmetic, I realised that they had got my entitlement wrong and had put me down as having 134 hours. Now, I really don't know how they managed to calculate it but I'm sure it involved an Excel Spreadsheet.

I let my manager know and she passed on the message. I soon had a revised Holiday Sheet in front of me. They had realised their mistake and had increased my annual entitlement to... wait for it... 162 hours! Well, they were getting there. I let my manager know they still hadn't got it right but she asked me if she could let them know the following morning. She didn't like to tax their brain cell too much in one day.

After a quick reminder the following day, they finally got their act together and I have a Holiday Sheet with the correct entitlement of 216 hours showing. This means that instead of 1 hours leave to last me until April 1 2008, I now have somewhere in the region of 75 hours. It is worrying though. I really should have spotted it earlier.

I can also confirm that I have been given the last week in July that I had rather stupidly forgotten to request and so the breaking loose of All Hell Chez Jester has been averted. I feel a bit like Doctor Who after defeating yet another seemingly invincible opponent.

Jester, the Gay Gordons, Nasreddin and being Politically Correct

I very briefly mentioned the Gay Gordons in my last blog. It was the briefest of introductions and it really does not do them justice. They are a gay couple and both have the same given name (hence the Gay Gordons). They have been in the Complaints Department for roughly the same time and they are two of the nicest men I know (and Gordon H is likely to read this so I'm telling the truth, Gordon, you are!) I refer to Gordon H as my Gay Lover because when we went to our former colleague's retirement do, Gordon snogged me after a slight misunderstanding. I'm pretty certain Gordon B was watching at the time but he never seemed put out at the time. He's always been an absolute sweetie to me too.

Gordon H sits next to Goodwill Gary and they're currently learning Urdu from a number of "teachers", including Jessina. They are actually doing a good job of it too. I'm quite impressed by their fluency. They do seem to be interested in words for body parts though. They are constantly laughing and joking, which is generally frowned upon in the Dark Satanic Mill, but they really liven the place up. Nowadays, frequently in Urdu.

I was at lunch with the Gay Gordons, Mr Grumpy, Jeannie, Jessica and various other Jesters when the first incident of political correctness occurred. Mr Grumpy put a slice of cucumber over each eye (he was eating a salad at the time). He took them off and ate them and then turned to his fellow diners and asked "What do they do, anyway?" He was referring to the cucumber slices so I said "They reduce puffiness. Don't give them to Gordon." Gordon was amused. Gordon B was relieved. We really couldn't do with Gordon's puffiness being reduced after all.

The second coup for Political Correctness was when I told Nasreddin a joke. Nasreddin is fantastic. He works from 4pm to 8pm because he has to care for his chronically ill wife. He looks just like the Hood from Thunderbirds (the puppet, not Ben Kingsley from the live action film) and doesn't seem to mind me telling him so. I should also stress that he is an Indian Muslim. On Thursday, I told him I was going to take a risk and tell him a joke. I said he was entitled to report me to HR if he was offended. At that point, he started smiling. I told him a joke that had caused a great deal of controversy a few months ago. The one about suicide bombers.

Nasreddin has a great sense of humour and the main butt of his jokes are himself, Indians and Asians in general. Still, I was slightly worried. It's a calculated risk but I shouldn't have been so concerned. He roared with laughter and then said "Oh yes, I am going to HR about that one!" I don't think he did because there have been no repercussions.

My point is to be truly inclusive you have to take risks. True friendship has firm foundations and taking the piss or telling slightly risky jokes will not shake them. I hope that I have proved that the Gay Gordons and Nasreddin are true friends. I feel very lucky when I hear the banter going on around me between Straights, Whites, Asians, Gays (sorry, Gay men and Lesbians) and any other "group" you can think of. We are a reasonably close knit group in our Department and I'm happy to be part of it.

Jay, Pennywise and the Dark Satanic Mill

Jay's been off work for a while; he's had surgery on his foot. I've got his mobile number so we keep in touch occasionally by text while he was off. He came back to work on Thursday and called me over while I was on my way to the brown water machine. I asked him, as I have asked countless times before, if he has heard about his disciplinary. He answered in the same repetitive manner that he hasn't. I have looked on the Internet to see if there is any time limit for an employer to take action after a disciplinary but, as far as I can see, there is none.

Pennywise came into work yesterday for a meeting with Human Resources. While he was in the office, he chatted to Jessica and our managers and finally to Jackie. He did not even look at me. I'm not sure why. Maybe he's been reading this blog.

I may have explained that Pennywise is a born again Christian and so is Jackie. He had brought in a couple of books that he found interesting and was discussing them with Jackie. I was talking to Gary and one of the Gay Gordons at the time. Gordon was especially annoyed because Pennywise is still off sick and has been signed off for at least one more month and possibly two and was now in the office distracting various jesters from their work. While we were talking/slagging Pennywise off, Goodwill Josie came over to join us. She said "He's got his holy books with him. One of them's called How to Walk on Water. They're going on about how great they are. It's sickening."

I find it disturbing, myself. I've never really been able to trust born again Christians. They always want to convert me to their mad religion. Give me empirical proof that God exists and I might start to believe but I can't guarantee that I will believe in Jehovah. I'm more likely to go for a pantheon. I've always been an exponent of the view "Jack of all trades; Master of none."

Pennywise left after his discussion with Jackie. He had been in the Mill for 2½ hours. Add that to the 2½ days he has worked since 20th April and it really doesn't amount to much. He told Jessica that he's being treated for depression. He also said that his doctor told him that depression tends to affect highly intelligent people. I'm sure it does, I suffer from it myself (and still come into work every day) but I'm absolutely sure that suffering from depression does not automatically mean you're highly intelligent. Well, not unless you're called Jester, anyway.

Jester, Bobbie, her kidneys and the Resource Planner

Yesterday, I had to take my youngest daughter, Bobbie, to an out-patients appointment at the Renal Clinic at our local NHS Trust Hospital. I mentioned in an earlier blog that Bobbie has Henoch Schonlein Purpura (or HSP for short). The main area of concern is her kidneys and a recent blood test showed that her kidney function has deteriorated so the Doctor has put her on Steroids (with all the associated supportive drugs) and re-biopsied her kidney last Thursday. She was asked to come back into the clinic on Monday - i.e. yesterday.

My husband was not going to be able to take her, so on Friday I applied for 4 hours annual leave so I could take her. Our Resource Planners refused it, so I told my manager that I would have to take it as unpaid dependant leave. She was fine with that.

Yesterday, I took Bobbie to the clinic. The doctors increased her dose of Ramipril because her kidneys are still leaking protein into her urine. The consultant (not the usual one, who is on holiday) also told her that they are thinking of using Cyclophosphamide, which would suppress her immune system, which is causing all this trouble in the first place, or try a Plasma Interchange, which would entail removing the plasma from her blood and replacing it with new - a sort of human Power-Flush. Bobbie took this all in her stride. I have to say, I am really proud of her.

I went to work as soon as we got home and my manager had a little anecdote waiting for me. She was eager to tell me, it had amused her so much.

That morning, she had e-mailed our Resource Planners and asked them to mark me down as being on dependant leave for the morning. She had received an e-mail back saying that I should have taken it as annual leave. She replied that I had applied for annual leave but it had been refused (by the same resource planner). The reply then came from the head of our Resource Planning Department. He said that hospital appointments are made 6 weeks in advance and I should have applied for my leave 6 weeks in advance. She replied to him (and I think she enjoyed herself doing it) by explaining that Bobbie's illness is not predictable. Sometimes Bobbie is quite well and then sometimes she is not (all very true). When Bobbie gets worse and needs to see a Consultant, her body doesn't give her 6 weeks' notice so that her mother can apply for leave and, therefore, sometimes Jester can only give a couple of days notice. She did not get a reply.

That's what I love about resource planners. They never let you down.

Jester, Annual Leave and Amusing Quotes

I discovered to my horror, yesterday, that I've almost run out of annual leave. I also discovered that I only booked one week's leave in July when we've booked and paid for a 2 week holiday and I've had to put in a request for the 2nd week. I sincerely hope the request goes through or all hell is going to break loose Chez Jester. The problem is, and I think I've mentioned it before, our Resource Planning Team is mainly comprised of petty gauleiters, who enjoy nothing more than refusing leave on the grounds of staffing levels and moaning about how much time we spend on "After Call". It's my mistake though, so I'm going to have to sort it out.

I heard from an ex-Jester this morning, who has moved further up north and now works in a call centre up there. He sent me some amusing things he overheard at work recently. I sincerely hope the quotees were joking but you can't always be sure. Here they are:

Where does wind come from? Is it made by those wind turbines?

Was Jesus around at the time of the dinosaurs?

It's great, isn't it?

Glass v Polycarbonate

Please read this if you haven't already and sign the petition. It is truly a worthy cause. My heart goes out to Blake and his family.

Not in my name

My husband told me yesterday that Chemical Ali has been sentenced to death. You can follow this link to the story on BBC News if you want. I find it very disturbing indeed because I thought the whole idea of the "liberation" of Iraq was so that the Iraqi people could have a Western style democracy. I can't see where hanging, or any other form of execution, comes into it at all. Now, I know the US has a federal death penalty and that 38 of the 50 States have the death penalty bu then I really am unable to think of the US as a true democracy because of it.

I am proud to be part of the EU because of its unequivocal opposition to the death penalty. No country can become part of the EU unless it has first abolished it. I could not live in a country which executes its criminals, no matter how heinous the crime. People sometimes asks me how I would feel if my daughter had been murdered by, for instance, Ian Huntley. I cannot even begin to imagine how that would feel but I do not believe that it is a valid argument for the death penalty. My opinion would not count in such circumstances, anyway. How could I possibly have a balanced opinion if my daughter had been murdered?

Some of these people have told me that they would happily pull the lever, administer the lethal injection or pull the trigger on child killers. That always puts me in mind of a story I heard about Heinrich Himmler. He had gone to watch the mass killing of Jews in Poland. At that point, they were still being shot and he was said to have vomited after some brains from one victim splashed onto his coat. So, don't say "I'd happily execute them" until you know what it entails.

My opposition to the death penalty is not well thought out anyway. I simply believe that nobody has the right to take the life of another human being for any reason whatsoever. We're only on this planet for a very short time. To terminate a life before it has been completed is a dreadful thing to do. I don't believe in any form of afterlife. I don't believe that there is retribution waiting for "evil-doers" in some kind of firy hell or reward for "good" people in heaven. As far as I am aware, you are born, you live, you die. Full Stop. So how can we possibly justify the killing of anybody.

So to get back to Chemical Ali, he had no right to order the killing of the Kurds in 1988 but neither does anybody have the right to order his killing. He is on this earth for his short allotted span and, no matter how bad he has been, he should be allowed to complete it.

Jester, Pennywise, Jessica and Smokey Robinson

Pennywise is due back at work today. I'm not holding my breath and we will see. I'm not going in today either because my youngest daughter, Bobbie, has a hospital appointment and, to be frank, Bobbie's health is more important than the Dark Satanic Mill.

For any of you who are interested, Bobbie has Henoch Schonlein Purpura and presents the following symptoms: purpuric rash, joint inflammation and pain, stomach pain and kidney problems. The last is why she is now under one of the leading kidney specialists in the country. Not only is he a superb doctor but he never talks down to Bobbie (who is 16) and has a great sense of humour too. Bobbie will get better in the end but it is a slow process. Poor kid.

Anyway, I've asked my great friend and adopted little sister, Goodwill Jessica, to let me know if Pennywise comes into work today. Some of you may wonder why I refer to her as my adopted little sister. I'm a youngest child, with two older sisters and when I was much, much younger than I am now, I used to yearn for a younger brother or sister. Unfortunately, this yearning never went away. I've always got on well with Jessica and during one of our many conversations we have had over the years, it transpired that she is the eldest of four girls and always wanted a big sister. I think fate made us have that conversation and we adopted each other then and there.

Jessica and I work well together, which is useful because we both deal with high level complaints and after recent events, what we all needed most was teamwork. She is also a true friend to me and has been totally supportive to me at my lowest points. Unfortunately, like many jesters (and clowns) Smokey Robinson's immortal words apply quite well to me:

"Just like Pagliacci did / I try to keep my surface hid / Smiling in the crowd I try / But in a lonely room I cry / The tears of a clown"

I'm not lovelorn or anything, just a tad depressive and Jessica, being very sensitive to my moods, always knows what to do and when. I'm very, very lucky to have a friend like her and I hope that I can return the compliment as and when necessary.

Jester, Her Chair and the Unusual Customer

I nearly fell off my chair on Wednesday...

Actually, let's rewind that and make it a bit more dramatic...

I fell off my chair on Wednesday. I'm a High Level or Complex Jester and deal with complaints that have been addressed to our Managing Director or Chief Executive Officer amongst other things. So, not unsurprisingly, I was asked to respond to a complaint on Monday from somebody who had decided to write to an Important Person at the Dark Satanic Mill.

I spoke to him briefly on the Monday and agreed to ring him back on the Wednesday because his toilet was going to be repaired on the Tuesday. He seemed a nice enough chap at the time.

So, on Wednesday, I rang him back and we chatted a while and I told him all the things I would do to make sure he would not receive such poor service next time (one of the things we could do is to remove some of contractors from our Network [but not the ones who read this blog!]). Mr Customer seemed quite confident that feeding his issues back to the relevant managers (I'm really getting the hang of Mill Newspeak now) would have the desired effect and so we turned to the thorny issue of Com-pen-sa-tion. We call it the C-word - a little in-joke for jesters all over the English-speaking world.

I offered an amount, not much, but a little higher than I thought his complaint merited. Going to the top ups the stakes usually. His answer left me speechless and on the floor, having fallen off my chair. He told me he did not want any money, he just wanted to know that we had done something about it.

I actually had to apologise for going silent and I was very honest with him. I told him that usually, when customers refuse a gesture of goodwill, it's because they don't think it's high enough. I had also gone silent because his answer had left me a bit short of breath with a funny fluttery feeling in my stomach. It is an unusual situation, you see, and I'm not well equipped to cope with it. I'm more used to having customers say things like "I'll see you in court" and some of them do actually carry out their threat, although they would probably be very disappointed not to see an insignificant little jester in the dock while the judge puts a black cap on his head and sentences her to a slow and painful death involving lots of money. I'm not sure who represents the Dark Satanic Mill at the Small Claims Court but it certainly not me or any of my fellow jesters.

Anyway, it was a pleasure to see a return to old values, you know the "I don't need money, it's just nice to know you're doing something about it" sort of thing.

I would also like to tell you that no chairs were harmed during the making of this blog.

Jester and blocked e-mails

I love e-mail admin. It's great fun. I sent the Dark Satanic Mill's Dignity at Work policy home by e-mail so I could refer to it when writing my last blog and the company's mail marshal blocked it because the policy contains the word "sex". Oooh, how rude! I went through the e-mail and substituted S's with 5s and it got through. Machines aren't as clever as people are they? I then tried to send the e-mail which had alerted me to the blocked mail and that was blocked too! Here it is:

-----Original Message-----From: mmadmin@darksatanicmillplc.com [mailto:mmadmin@darksatanicmillplc.com ] Sent: 19 June 2007 15:02To: [No, you're not having my e-mail address!] Subject: Your e-mail message was blockedMailMarshal (an automated content monitoring gateway) has stopped the following email for the following reason:It believes it may contain unacceptable language, or inappropriate material. Message: B000db40ed.00000001.mml From: [No, you're not having my e-mail address!] To: [No, you're not having my e-mail address!] Subject: Rod Please remove any inappropriate language and send it again.The blocked email will be automatically deleted after 1 day.MailMarshal Rule: Content Security (Outbound) : Block Unacceptable LanguageScript Offensive Language (Basic) Triggered in BodyExpression: sex Triggered 1 times weighting 5Email Content Security provided by NetIQ MailMarshal.

Okay, it's a bit heavy reading but it amused me at the time. Oh and please don't try the e-mail addresses. I hope they don't exist but if they do, they're not for the place where I work.

Thanks.
Jester
xx

Jester and the Dignity at Work Policy

A couple of weeks ago, we were sent our Dignity at Work policy by e-mail. This was to be "cascaded" to anybody without e-mail accounts so that everybody would have to obey the rules. By the way, I love office-speak. Don't say pass, say cascade. It's a bit like Newspeak in 1984, if a (tiny) bit less sinister. This policy has caused much amusement in the Complaints Department in the Dark Satanic Mill because we're now not allowed to take the piss out of each other in case we offend:

a) each other,
b) the powers that be or
c) some over-sensitive, bleeding heart liberal who just happens to be in earshot.

Great. I'm now no longer allowed to tell my Team Manager that Jasper is coming over all queer. Jasper is no longer allowed to call me Dolly Looselegs (and yes, it is a slanderous nickname). He's not allowed to call Mr Grumpy Grandad and I'm not allowed to call Mr Grumpy Mr Grumpy and, as my Manager said so unhappily, she's no longer allowed to call me a Lanky Streak of anything.

The really sad thing is that, although there are some words that are really beyond the pale and I would hesitate to use them in this blog, even as examples, others are used as badges of pride. Jasper does not mind me saying he's coming over all queer again (I sometimes use the plural, which makes him scream with laughter) or calling him a poof. He regularly refers to himself as a poof but taking the piss out of each other can be a very strong indication of how much a member of the team you are. It can show acceptance of the highest order. Jessina is not offended when I tell her she has a big gob. For a start, it's true, she does, but also she knows that I have the confidence to tell her that when I'm white and she's asian. She also has the confidence to take the piss out of me in return. That has to be a good thing.

So, let's rewrite the dignity at work policy and keep it simple:

Don't be offensive
Treat others as you would wish to be treated yourself
Keep your sense of humour

and don't forget to tell the Gay Ian Paisley the Irish Electrician joke at least twice a year.

Jessica, Jemma and the Delicate Situation

There were panic stations at the Dark Satanic Mill today. Well, not throughout the Dark Satanic Mill; just in our part, the complaints department. My colleague, friend, evil sidekick and "adopted" daughter, Gemma, was logging complaints that had been received by phone in our call centre at about 4pm this afternoon. She was looking at one when she came over to me with a puzzled look on her face.

"I'm not sure what to do with this one, Jester," she said. "One of our engineers has been taken hostage by a customer." I asked her for the job number and brought the details up on my computer and there it was. The notes said that the customer had said that the engineer had turned up with the wrong part and she wasn't going to let him leave the house until he had fitted the right part. The girl who had put the note on the job then spoke to the engineer and he had apparently confirmed that he was being held hostage.

This struck me as bizarre for a number of reasons:

1) How could the engineer get the right part without leaving the house?
2) Why had the girl not tried to get help to the engineer? She could have called the police for instance or the engineer's field manager.
3) Why had she "diaried" the job to our department so we could pick it up a couple of hours too late? (And that is quick for us too!)

After her notes were some notes from a team manager, who had seemed more concerned about getting the correct parts for the boiler than managing to negotiate the release of the "hostage". Now, I know hostage negotiation is a difficult job and is best carried out by trained professionals but I did think that telling the customer we were going to call the police might have done the trick. Instead, he had tried to find out if the right part was locally available.

Then nothing. No more notes. For all we knew, the engineer could have died a nasty, protracted death at the hands of an irate customer.

I'm very worried about looking a fool so I didn't ring the police. Instead, I first tried to contact the girl who had put the original notes on and then the team manager, with no success. I then rang the field manager and asked him if he was aware that one of his engineers was being held hostage (we hadn't had a call from a relieved engineer telling us that the situation had been defused and he was once again a free man). The FM (field manager) asked which engineer I was referring to. I gave the name of the poor unfortunate. He said, no, he was not aware but he had had a call from head office saying that this very engineer had been stuck on a job for 3 hours and they had had to reschedule some of his appointments. Not bloody surprising was my thought. He'd probably been locked in a cupboard or cellar for the 3 hours.

I asked him to ring the engineer and check he was okay. I said the poor man probably needed a welfare call. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts to call the team manager, I rang the FM back. He put me straight:

No the engineer had not been taken hostage. He had turned up with the wrong part and the customer had been a little bit annoyed. Not with him, though, she had been annoyed with the previous engineers who had attended. She had then asked if the engineer could stay in the house while she tried to find the right part. She had been speaking to the girl at the Dark Satanic Mill who had put a note on the job stating that the engineer had been taken hostage. The girl had then spoken to the engineer who said "It's like being held hostage". He had been joking. We had tried to find the part but it was not locally available and he had left the house, safe and well, and gone onto his next job.

Panic over. I then, finally, managed to get through to the team manager, who knew that the engineer had not been taken hostage. I pointed out to him that it might have made our jobs a little easier had the following rules been followed:

1) Don't say an engineer has been taken hostage when he hasn't.
2) Don't diary to the complaints department when there is no complaint and an engineer hasn't been taken hostage.
3) If there are notes on a job saying an engineer has been taken hostage and you know he hasn't. Put notes on saying he hasn't been taken hostage.
4) If an engineer has been taken hostage, don't diary it to complaints. He'll be dead before we pick it up.
5) If an engineer has been taken hostage, try ringing the police. I mean, it's not as if they have anything to do, is it? (Sorry, that was just plain bad of me.)

Now, I really wanted to finish this blog with a video of Jack Point (the jester from Yeomen of the Guard) singing "I have a song to sing-o" but could I find it??? Could I heck as like! So here is Tundra Rap from the Mighty Boosh instead.

Pennywise, Jester, Copperfield and Portable Blogs

Pennywise was due back at work today. Do you know that since 23 April, 3 days before I posted Jester, Jessica, Pennywise and the Proverbial, he has been at work for a grand total of 2½ days? Anyway, he didn't come back today and now he's been signed off for another two weeks. Now, I really don't want to be uncharitable but I'm in grave danger of being so because it's so infuriating. We've picked up all the pieces now. They're well and truly gone. So what have I to complain about? Jessica and I have this nasty niggling feeling that when he does come back, he'll have an uncomfortable couple of weeks and then all this will be swept under the carpet because it happened once before and he got away with it.

I was off last year with stress and as a welfare move, my manager put me onto standard complaints as a temporary measure (I'm an established member of the Complex Team). Then, a few months later, I was told that because I had not been dealing with Complex and High Level Complaints, I would be marked down as Below Expectations at my next PDR. I called in the Union and put in a grievance and explained that I had been put onto standard complaints to reduce my stress and now they were simply increasing it. Our HR Manager came up with a good compromise. My PDR was put back by two months to allow me to "catch up" and I got a "Meets". That was fine by me. My reason for being a little cynical now is that Pennywise has never had to fight the system like I had to last year and I hadn't left a huge mess for my colleagues to clean up.

Well, enough bitching for one blog. My original idea for this blog was inspired when I was recently sat on the bog reading Copperfield's blog. Okay, I was sat on the toilet reading Copperfield's book (well worth buying and cheap at the price), but bog rhymes with blog and I'm sure the contents of the book come from his numerous blogs. It's a nice handy way of getting the blog up into the smallest room. I don't have a lap top and the desk top is a bit bulky for carrying upstairs and downstairs when I need to go.

Maybe I'm being a bit familiar calling him Copperfield (and I sincerely hope he doesn't mind) but I feel like I know him now. Maybe it's because I'm married to an articulate policeman (and have been for 21 years, bless him!) or maybe it's because I've read a few of his blogs now, on and off the toilet. Or maybe both reasons apply. Anyway, I like calling him Copperfield, so you'll just have to lump it.

So I was wondering where he gets the time to blog. A cursory glance through his last few blogs shows that he's posted one every other day for a little while. He's prolific. Aah, then I remembered. Policemen work shifts (well, the ones who do real police work do, anyway), which means they're at home when other members of the family aren't (except my unemployed daughter) and they're awake when other members of the family aren't (except my insomniac son). My husband spends hours in front of the computer in the morning trying to get his sluggish digestive system into action (usually with little success). I'm sure he could blog if he put his mind to it, although I think he might plead superfluity - there are quite a few police blogs out there already. So he bubble shoots, reads blogs, Copperfield's and Gadget's amongst them (it was him who got me reading them in the first place) but not mine - he's too embarrassed - and reading The Telegraph online. He also checks out Amazon and puts books, DVDs and CDs onto his wish list.

Maybe PC Copperfield skips the bubble shooting and concentrates instead on his writing. If he does, I'm glad he does. It's great to see my poor hubby isn't in a minority of one (although when it comes to insufferable wives, he probably is) and that other policemen view the job in much the same way as he does. Now if Copperfield ever read my blog (on the toilet or not as the case may be) - that would be nice!

Great Minds thinking alike

There is an expression "Great minds think alike". It's probably true. However, I think it's also probably true that "Small minds think alike". Please read the following extracts from two letters recently received at the Dark Satanic Mill. One was addressed to me and the other was addressed to my friend and colleague Goodwill Gerard (I'm running out of suitable names now).

"So, to insult my family with this obscene offer ... only shows your customer service dept is about as good as your engineers" (To Jester. I have quoted it verbatim, including abbreviations and lack of punctuation.)

"Regrettably your compensation process seems to be as ill co-ordinated as the emergency service about which i first complained." (To Gerard. Again, quoted verbatim, warts and all.)

Talking of pusillanimity, I had the pleasure of humming the theme from Thomas the Tank Engine today while the Fat Controller was stood a few feet from my desk talking to my managers. He won't have known that it was directed at him but I enjoyed it. Of course, I'm referring to him when I mention pusillanimity, not me. I just wanted to make sure you know.

Keeping this side of insanity

Inspector Gadget wondered how I manage to stay sane and that got me thinking. My family don't keep me sane, they make me more insane. Having said that, I know that I make them insane too so we're even there. This blog keeps me sane because it creates a little bit of objective distance for me so I can see the madness that is the Dark Satanic Mill for what it is. Finally, what I get up to when I doff my cap and bells keeps me sane. Here is a pictorial guide to what Jester gets up to in her spare time.

Music:



Sport:



and yes, I am one of the dancers. I wear a different kind of cap and bells when I do this.

More sport:






And also:


and:

There are more but I think this is enough for now.

Jester, Audits and Defences

About two and a bit years ago, the Dark Satanic Mill had an Internal FSA Audit. I remember it well. Our Head Office in the West Midlands sent somebody up to our office and he went to various people in various departments and asked them lots of questions. When he came to our Department, he asked me lots of questions.

At the time I was dealing with Underwriter complaints (the customer, not happy with our response would "escalate" the complaint to our Underwriter, who would send the complaint to us and we would respond on their behalf), sending Final Response Letters and preparing FOS Files.

My training thus far had been notable in its absence. Everything I had been doing I had worked out for myself or by asking my colleagues at Head Office. For instance, I had had no idea how to frame a Final Response Letter and this had only come to light when FOS had refused to deal with a complaint because my Final Response Letter to the customer was not a Final Response Letter. My colleague from HQ had sent me a few examples and I had been able to frame one that would satisfy FOS. My FOS files had been a shambles, to put it politely.

So this gentleman from HQ came over and asked me a few questions. I was never blessed with the gift of blagging so I answered them honestly. I don't really remember very well what they were but I know he asked me what training I had received for what I was doing and I answered truthfully that I had received no formal training and anything I did know I had picked up as I went along.

He thanked me for my time and went his way.

In no time at all, the Fat Controller (see previous posts for my opinion of him), our Customer Service Director, was at my desk asking me why I had told the auditor what I had told him. I answered truthfully that I had told him the truth, no more, no less. Was there a problem with that? Well, yes, actually, there was. I had made the Dark Satanic Mill look bad. I told him that I was sorry but I don't actually like lying and I didn't think that I would have been able to pull off a lie in this case. The Fat Controller went his way, still not happy with me.

A little later, our Internal Operations Director came over to me. I actually quite like this man. He's a big bloke. A rugby player with a West Midlands accent. He knows who I am and will have a quick chat with me if he gets the opportunity. However, he asked me much the same questions as the Fat Controller had done and got the same responses. He went away just as dissatisfied with me as the Fat Controller.

I was glad I caused a stir. It had been scandalous how I had been treated. I had been thrown in at the deep end and I had not had a clue what I was doing or how to do it. I do feel my card was marked at the time, although I had simply been a good Quaker girl and told the truth. There is no love lost between me and the Fat Controller now, although I still get on with the Internal Operations Director.

So fast forward two and a bit years to Yesterday. Ah, Yesterday (no I'm not going to break into song, not even a Lennon/McCartney song). Yesterday, I prepared a Defence for a County Court Claim and before you ask, no, I am not a solicitor. I have not even had the rudimentary legal training that some of my colleagues have received. No, I didn't want to do it but I was left with no option. One of the cases that my colleague Pennywise (see previous posts) has left with me is a County Court Claim. I had been waiting for our company solicitor to return from leave because I really did not know what to do with it (I always send mine to him so he can do all the paperwork but Pennywise had not done this). Our solicitor, lets call him Anthony, told me that we had run out of time and I would need to get a defence in as quickly as possible and one thing we could be sure of was he wasn't going to do it because he had a pile of stuff on his desk reaching to the ceiling that was more of a priority.

So poor old Jester had to do it. I spoke to Jessica, who has prepared a defence (in much the same circumstances as me) and she printed off hers and gave it to me so I could use it as a template. I did the rest. I did the investigation (including speaking to our Contractor), I drafted the defence, which took all day, and I e-mailed it to Anthony so he could check it and amend it. I did not get it back and I'm off work today walking in the Lakes with my husband, who has to deal with the absurdities of being a 21st Century policeman on a daily basis, so it won't get sent today.

So, as they say in France, "Plus c'est la meme chose, plus ça change", or, as they say in the Dark Satanic Mill, "SOS, same old sh*t".

Jester, Jasper and the Slight Mistake

I post this blog on two sites: this one and Wordpress (it's nice to reach as large an audience as possible). I had a comment left on the other site a day or two ago from a blogger whom I consider to be one of the best, Inspector Gadget. This left me dancing round my house in a state of euphoria yesterday singing "Inspector Gadget commented me, Inspector Gadget commented me". I didn't realise he even read my tales. It has had another effect though. I've finally been dragged up from the doldrums and finally I feel up to writing a blog again.

Inspector Gadget was interested to know how I/we stay sane. Well, obviously my mental state is not so delicate that I ever get pushed over the edge into true insanity (although many of my fellow jesters would say I fell over the edge many years ago) but I can state with absolute conviction that if I were ever in any danger, having my colleagues around me would hold me back.

We have a wonderful mix of people on our department. We have WASPs, and I must include heterosexuals in this category; we have a sub-group - a couple of born again Christians; we have gay men, a lesbian, a couple who claim to be bi-sexual; we have a number of Asian Muslims; we have catholics (and yes, I'm sorry, you were an afterthought). I can safely say that I get on with every single one of them. My Asian Muslim lady colleagues have delighted because they have exploded so many of my misconceptions about them. I'm afraid I always assumed them to be very serious indeed and when it comes to sex, at best shy and at worst prudish. Not so, they can laugh with the rest of us at jokes and like drains at a dirty joke. And that is just a few of my colleagues. They range from pleasant to abso-blooming-lutely wonderful.

Across the way from me sits Goodwill Jasper, a gay, Northern Irish Protestant from Londonderry (yes, I would tend to drop the London bit, descended from Southern Irish Catholics as I am). We have a number of names for him. I've called him the gay Ian Paisley, Mr Grumpy calls him Dolly (don't ask!), Jasper likes to call himself "Hot Rod Sex God". He is one of the funniest people I know. Jasper"drags up" and actually makes a very attractive woman and almost indistinguishable from the real thing (I was fooled myself, the first time I saw him in drag). His drag name is Lin, short for Linoleum "because I spend all my time on my back and I've seen more ceilings than Michelangelo". This is one of the many things he says that have me in stitches. Most, admittedly are too crude for this blog but another is "I like my men like I like my coffee: hot, strong and sweet, like Terico..." Actually, he quite often sings this.

Jasper belongs to a website, available only through his phone company. There, you can post a link with pictures and people will contact you. Jasper has stated quite categorically that he is a gay man, so there is no mistake and his pictures are supposed to be posted in the section for gay men. Recently, he posted a picture on the site. I've seen it and, admittedly, it is hard to tell what gender he is in the picture. The site posted it on the section for women, straight women (Jasper won't mind me using the word straight; he's not too bothered about Political Correctness. Just don't be rude and mean it). This was about 9 o'clock in the morning. By Lunch, he had about 30 messages, mainly from heterosexual men but one from a lesbian. I think they all thought he was a "hot chick". Lin had finally become real. He had to reply to them all and explain the mistake. When he finished work, there had been another 90 or so, including replies to his replies to earlier messages. I think he spent the whole evening explaining the mistake to myriad heterosexual men, some of them no longer so certain about their sexuality.

I found it hilarious and, needless to say, yet another potential lapse into insanity was averted.

So finally, Inspector Gadget, how do you manage to stay sane? I'm married to a Police Constable of 21 years' standing and I don't know how he manages it. He doesn't know either, although I do know that he has decent colleagues who think in the same way as him and are able to convince him that it is the machine that is wrong, not him. I'm lucky to be a Jester. I wouldn't swap my cap and bells for truncheon, handcuffs and CS Spray....ever!