And so this is Chistmas Volume 87

And so this is Christmas Volume 87

The Edited Highlights and low lights of years gone by………………….

In no particular order the nominees are:

Ian as a circa 5 year old dancing with me to Manuel and the Music of the Mountains Guitar concerto though the thru lounge at Torbay Road Harrow, when I came home at night.

2 year old Graeme waving goodbye with his nose pressed against the bay window at the same former matrimonial home, after the marriage collapse. (Not a highlight)

Graeme as a teenager playing at Wembley, yes Wembley Stadium in an England Schools Cup Final, video recorded by some bloke who worked on Watchdog and was Deputy Dog.

At about 9, Graeme having a spasm attack, lucky you were around Dad, said the hospital doctor, great………….good job I went on the 1st aid course…………worse moment of my life.

In Wales pulling a younger Graeme out of the way of an oncoming nutter on a bicycle.

Ian as a toddler tripping and hitting the furniture causing old faithful out of his forehead and a mad dash to Northwick Park A&E by a wet red shirted father.

Helen swimming out to rescue Ian when the ball got further and further out to sea.
Blimey these incidents come thick and fast. Eat your heart out Baywatch.

Ian and Graeme Graduating at University…………that’s better.

Ian & Graeme getting married…………poignant stuff.

2 Grand daughters soooooooooo cute.

Fun times at the Ponderosa with my only sister and her off spring, the comedy store.

Falling in love, conversely falling out of love, highs and lows, action replays of the former not the latter.

Spurs winning anything ………………glory glory hallelujah.

A Man for all Seasons

The Complaints Department is open 365 days a year, for those that want me to change, but I learned a long time ago, you can't change people, they are what they are and you live or let die.

And it is all the theory of relativity. On the Sports Personality of the Year programme recently some poor bloke got an award on his retirement as a broadcaster cos he had Motor Neurone disease, This guy had been a captain for his England at Cricket and Rugby in his former glory, and his speech was all about gratitude for what he had achieved in his life, not what life had cursed him with now. I thought that was truly commendable. True there are people worse off all over the world including Ethiopia.

I was Deputy Editor of BBCTV Watchdog for 3 years, that was me age 40 something. At least I got that high up the ladder, yes 2nd again. I have done a lot, I only wish I had opportunities to do more of the same now.

It does make me grumpy, but not in my mind a miserable old git, just someone who takes a look at life all around him and makes comments. Now the Sharpe name has its origins in medieval England and was given to people with the characteristic of cunning and wit. So there you go, that's me, well I think so anyway, even if I grump it's with a sense of humour, and if the listener has not got humour on their wave length, then they miss the joke, miss the boat and miss the opportunity.

C'est la vie.

and so this is Chrsitmas Volume II

And so this is Christmas Volume II

The Ghosts of Christmas past, where are they now, it must have been love but it’s over now…………..

Memries (memries), good days (good days), bad days (bad days)
Theyll be (theyll be), with me (with me) always (always)
In these old familiar rooms children would play
Now theres only emptiness, nothing to say

No more carefree laughter
Silence ever after
Walking through an empty house, tears in my eyes
Here is where the story ends, this is goodbye

Knowing me, knowing you (ah-haa)
There is nothing we can do
Knowing me, knowing you (ah-haa)
We just have to face it, this time were through
(this time were through, this time were through
This time were through, were really through)
Breaking up is never easy, I know but I have to go
(I have to go this time
I have to go, this time I know)
Knowing me, knowing you
Its the best I can do

I can be romantic , even charming, it is not an act, not even in a former life, but it has to be inspired, and we are all different with different people around us. Perception is a wonderful key. Though I normally assess a person in 5 seconds, obviously I don’t always get it right, just most of the time. A job as a law enforcement officer does make you cynical and a human lie detector. I suppose I display a hard crust under which is really a soft core. I always wanted to do good to mankind in general, change things for the better and I do think there have been and still are wasted opportunities. I learned at the age of 12 that demolition was easy, but it took far longer to build and create. That was the age I embarked on DIY as my mum could not employ somebody to Do it All. So with relationships. You spend time with someone and then it is all destroyed just like HMS Hood , blown out of the water with few survivors. There are no winners in those situations.

At this time of year we get on TV those that have passed away during the preceding months, I hope I die before I get old, hold on I am as old as I feel.
I think of Christmas past and what might have been.

Sally Price was my 1st girlfriend, age 13. We sat in my bedroom, yes sat in the bay window on a sofa and kissed every Sunday afternoon, she was at my Grammar School the year below.

Pat Kelly was at Jesus and Mary School. Most of the girls worked at Woolworths in Harlesden , where I worked on the Delicatessen Counter Friday nights and Saturdays. Sad to see 99 years of a high st name demise at this time Pat came round every Sunday night age 16, without her strict Catholic Mum and Dad knowing.

Lynn Hoyte. She was my first steady girlfriend, lived on the North Circ in Neasden. I had to park the scooter at the back and disrobe, so her Mum & Dad did not know.

I finally lost my virginity at age 17 to Kim, a 25 year old, who walked past my home every evening. I would rush out at 5.30pm to polish the scooter and stare. Then one day she invited me to her flat, and that lasted for 6 months before I wanted a change. Kim was really the reason why I never got to university. She affected my revision pattern, which was read, digest, memorise. Even Mr Major, a small rotund lovely history teacher who every one mocked except me, could not believe my history grade at A level, when I had got a distinction at O level. I think my papers were marked incorrectly, but by then I was fed up with exams, and just took what I had, I was joint 2nd in the school, see 2nd again, story of my life. The school had appealed before when only four of us passed Economics O level, me included, so I think there were marking scams then as there are today, why change the habit of a lifetime.

Anyway I digress education standards from sex education (Seventeen) ( yes the film is based on truth) .

The first girl I did not recognise when I woke up in the morning was Carol. But that was because she wore so much make up at night that she looked “and now for something completely different” in the morning.

By now I had generated to four wheels and a 105e Ford Anglia. Then my first holiday abroad, amazingly it was a week with my biological father and a new woman in his life that wanted an extended family, right person to go to then!!

Magalluf Majorca opened my eyes, to feminity international. Eve was from Norway, daughter of a Vauxhall Dealership Manager in Oslo. She spoke no English, my Norweigan was as today……………zilch, the chemistry was like lightning striking at the same spot all the time. It was hard to say goodbye. Bad enough when hundreds, thousands of miles apart to carry on. Especially when every Thursday night I was down the Oldfield dance hall in Greenford and weekends down the Boat House (now demolished) at Kew and the Castle (now Henrys Bar - Meat Market) in Richmond.

I had met Suzanne in Boulogne age thirteen and three quarters, on a school trip, where every one except me and Derek Johnson were green faced and sea sick (form a queue over the side, toilets are blocked !!) She spoke no English, I spoke un peu. We had a blissful afternoon, fond farewells, au revoir ma cheri. Merci to Miss O Kane who paid for me, ‘cos Mum could not afford it. She was good looking too, Miss O’Kane. She taught us French in French for 3 weeks and left me froid and the rest of the 33 class except 3 girls. So then she reverted back to Anglais, tres magnifique !!

There was also Claire, she was Jesus and Mary too, say 3 hail Maries and 42 holy fathers. Poor Claire, she would be sitting there with my Mum , waiting for me to come in at about 11pm. She was so pretty with electric blue eyes, but had no figure at all.

At 6th form in the coffee bar queue with Clive Willey , Bob Sweet and Ken New the 4 Musketeers, Prefects who run the school with tyranny and favours ha ha. We were all gawping with dribble on the floor as well as our lower jaws at Carol the blonde busty beauty of the entire school. She was wow wow wow as she moved and didn’t she know it. Ask her out was the dare. Bob couldn’t cos he had his glasses on and if he took them off he could ask the wrong person………. Clive was too small he would only come up to her boobs, oh thats a handy height then.... . Ken was “attached”, so it was down to me, no chance……no no chance, no way, she well never say yes, never ever.............The Lady from Del Monte.........…she said yes…………….. trouble is after a week I found out I was second in line, 2 timed, so that was that.

Hilary Scarr was my first love, as opposed to lust. She had an hour glass figure, trouble is all the males agreed. She was bubbly effervescent.There was no phone at Essex Road Willesden, so I had to walk round to the Post Office to use a pay phone, or use the phone at work which was awkward ‘cos I had just started there as a trainee, 249 Willesden Lane Brent Weights & Measures.

One night Hilary said she was washing her hair. I got to hear that excuse many more times over the years. Also, another tip of the trade - never go out with a hairdresser, they like the mirror more than anything or anybody. I drove passed her house. I now had a Sunbeam Rapier, loved that car. I saw a red Triumph convertible Vitesse outside her Mum and Dads house in Kingsbury. It was the same car as some dick head that worked in her office Cibie in Dollis Hill. So I went and knocked on the door, you should have seen her face, amazed you will be, astonished oh my. The Mum and Dad did not like me, they wanted better for her daughter. I was learning fast, etiquette. I had not ever visited a restaurant till 18 and I started work, went into a Chinese in Wembley at lunch time. I had to ask my colleagues to order for me, sweet and sour pork and rice. I also have a confession to make. Not that I am Roman Catholic like the Jesus and Mary girls, I am Church of England lapsed. However I never liked my voice, nor my hair, nor my face, and especially my nose, which I got from my Mum. If I had my nose given to me as a present I would have got my money back. However there are those that say I look like Neil Diamond, even in a New York Café, which goes to prove the prognosis on my proboscis.

Anyway uncouth of Willesden was on the doorstep, and swathe, older slimeball came to the door behind Hilary to see what was going on. So in the red mist, I moved Hilary aside and one punch in the face laid slimeball out onto the carpet, Mum and Dad said get out, don’t worry I am going…………….knowing me knowing you ah haaa. It must have been love, but its over now.

At 19 I was banned from 3 dance halls in 3 weeks. Normal scenario, dance with girl, boyfriend turns up, she is my f’’’g fiancé not yours, fiancé ?? I exclaim, and let battle commence, bouncers storm in with blue peace keeping berets missing, and out into the car park I go. There was a funny car chase once, where with the 2 girls in my car I eluded 4 chasing cars full of Neanderthals by feigning at speed on the Western Avenue dual carriage way to go right at a slip road, and then using a passing lorry to block their view and go left across the carriageways instead………..Steve Mcqueen eat your heart out or even your Bullitt out.

That’s all for now folks, stayed tuned to this channel for further adventures of Tin Tin sorry I mean Me…………………….

I wish it could be Christmas every day

And so this is Christmas

Time the 4^th Dimension is a curious thing. Whatever I did today won’t happen again, there is no fast rewind or post edit in life. I will not type the same thing here again in this moment of time, by the time I have typed these words the time has gone.

I was day dreaming behind the wheel today, but I won’t miss my turning again not today anyway.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, so is the elixir of life, but despite letters to some old geezer with a white beard and a funny red costume, I never got either for Christmas.

I think he is fake.

At Christmas time I tend to reflect on the year past and the past Christmases.

What might have been in a parallel universe. How you can be with someone 24/7 for many Christmases then poof all gone, and there is not even a ghost of Christmas past apart from the memories. It’s as if it happened to someone else and I just heard it or read about it.

Christmas is a family time and that does not change, except we all get older and run out of ideas for gifts to give. It’s those that were invited for Christmas and life as we know it, who change, who are just visiting, except it was not made clear at the time that a parking meter was ticking.

Christmas is also for kids. Once I started getting clothes and not scaletrix, I did not wake up at 3am to rip open the paper. That was only last year of course…….. I jest….

But seriously, as you have kids and grand kids at least the sparkle of Christmas comes alive again in their eyes and faces. Personally I always wanted to be on a beach, not Margate, but a few thousand miles further in the sun, then have Christmas dinner served up in a hotel. Bah humbug some people would say, but it is stress free and many people have a stresstive Christmas, cooking and feeding the 5,000 with loaves and turkeys.

Of course there are other parts of Christmas. No work, yes, well the economy has extended that benefit in 2008. Batteries not included, was another favourite pastime. Now I rip open the packaging in the shop to check the merchandise. As a kid, I always had to fix the toys after their 5 minutes of statutory working too. As a father, no not father Christmas, he is fake remember, I had to fix the toy boats, trains, planes and automobiles, else Ian & Graeme would not be smiling, and their Dad would be cross, money for nothing a dire strait indeed. Charades, well yes, let’s pretend all those toys do work and we don’t have to play with the wrapping paper or the boxes instead. No they are not more interesting than something that cost 2 arms and one leg.

I saw a video the other day. My first grand daughter is in Vancouver and she woke to find a Christmas tree in her home, she waddled over to it, it was so cute, she is one and a half almost, kissed a dangly angel twice, then pulled the tinsel off to wrap round her neck, much better, I suppose.

I dare say I had seen similar before, but today we have the technology to record all these events for posterity or to be saved in cyber space.

Being divorced when Ian & Graeme were still young also meant that every other Christmas Day I missed them, until I collected them days later from their mum. So those alternate Christmases were emptier for me personally.

It’s nice getting presents though, well done Prince Albert, and it’s nice to gather as an occasion. Commercially, I think the High St over extends it, but the decorations and lights are pleasing to the eye, However, although Thrapston, the town I live in now, has pretty street lights it has failed to figure out why the Christmas tree erected these last 2 years is in a black out…………Ho ho ho. Afterall it is the season to be jolly, tra la la la la la la la la. Would be better having a white Christmas rather than a grey cloud overcast SAD one, but never mind we can light up and warm the globe instead, as well as making Energy Executive Fat Cats fatter.

There used to be good films on TV, not any more, not even Zulu or the Great Escape, video and dvd has put paid to that. No more Eric Morecombe and Ernie Wise. Time changes everything.

And so this is Christmas, and what have you done, another year over and a new one just begun.

Read all about it

I just read an email from Ken, my old school friend, he said he can't believe we are 60 next year, and yes it still seems in my head that we are still 17. The days of the Mods and Rockers, Carnaby Street, Parkas and my TV175 Lambretta, I was a mod. Certainly the successive decades have been eye openers, if only I knew it would be like this, river deep mountain high, do I love you my oh my.

4 times I nearly killed myself coming off that scooter. One time I overtook 4 cars in the fast lane of the North Circ...... on my bum ...........my scooter following me. The wind in your hair, no crash helmets in those days, chrome side panels all the mirrors and racks, talking about my generation, why don't you all fade away to Itchicoo Park. Transport meant I could escape from Willesden. Hitherto it had just been a bus ride with Mum, or cycling with the Essex Road Gang to Box Hill Surrey every summer. Scooters meant girlfriends too..............but thats another chapter.

The first recollection of Ken was he was a Norman, I was a Saxon at Grammar School. I liked being a Saxon, but we were green, hate green. Norman's were red. Anyway Saxons always beat the Normans, unlike poor Harold at Hastings. In a football match we squared up against each other, I was a defender he was a forward. In the 6th year we clicked for some reason. He still looks the same these days except the hair is grey not black. He has not changed, same old grin and chuckle. WE ruled that school in the 6th 2 year as prefects. Anyone good looking and female got favours, ugly and fat or male you had no chance................

Best days were dinner queue monitoring and order on a Friday...............fish chips and cannon ball peas. Once we had to restore order during a pea slinging riot and entered the dining hall as a phalanx with dustbin lids as protection against the hail of cannon ball peas. Eat your heart out Maximus !!!

To Do is to Dare, live long and prosper, strength and honour.

curriculum vitae

PROFESSIONAL OVERVIEW:

Over 30 years experienced Consumer & Health Protection Consultant with a proven track record of success in the private and public market sectors, specialising in investigations, law enforcement and factual television programme making.

A strong pro-active leader, empowering staff to take ownership, providing coaching, training and mentoring to build cohesive teams working together to achieve individual targets and company objectives.

Results oriented and customer focused, with excellent relationship management skills.

Experienced in consumer protection, legal procedures and advice, crime investigation, risk assessment management and locating people, tobacco control, alcohol abuses, factual TV film making.

AWARDS & RECOGNITION:

· 2007 Accredited Smoking Cessation Advisor

· ACG Award 1999

· Former Lead Officer and Spokesman on anti counterfeiting for Professional Institute.

· Consumer Journalist Award 1984 for the expose of you won’t go further with Shell at the petrol pumps.

· Covert recording of mobile phone unblockers led to new legislation.

EXPERIENCE:

Smoking Cessation

Was one of the 1^st to use April Age progression software, in reducing smoking prevalence in the next generation.

Consumer Advice and Enforcement (includes the following highlights) :

· Secured extra funding for Consumer Support Network to revamp delivery of community advice

· Secured the longest conviction in the UK for counterfeiter

· Pioneered Extradition and Proceeds of Crime Investigations

· Ensured compliance with the Health Act 2006 and reduction in the prevalence of smoking

· Worked with Multi Agency Task Force working on Fear of Crime & Anti Social Behaviour projects

· Revamped the entire legal proceedings and evidence gathering procedures

· Played a vital role in closing down the crime ridden Hackney Market

· Sank DVD Pirates operating various bank accounts and aliases

· Closed down “Bodge the Builder” now a guest in HMP

Trading Standards in the West End

· Head of the investigations Team from 1977 to 1982

· Apprehended 44 fraudulent petrol stations in 7 years

· Apprehended almost all West End Hotels for short measure drinks

· Closed down a Blackpool fake perfume gang

Investigative Journalism / TV Productions

· Hooligans: The definitive analysis of Football Hooliganism (Rising to number 2 in the retail charts within 2 weeks of release)

· The Decline and Fall of Virginia Bottomley as Minister for the NHS for Channel 2

· White Witches and Black Magic for BBC2

· The Hitman is really an Undercover Cop for Channel 4

· Norman Conquest BBC2 expose of the corrupt world of Mr Fixit in British Athletics

· Ron Aylward, Master of Phoenix from the Ashes to cheat and con again in home improvements

· Airtours and the Old Age Pensioners with involvement of Watchdog, gaining them a fair deal

· Recycling – live outside broadcast from Meadowhall Shopping Centre

CAREER HISTORY:

Currently HGV driving for agencies @ TNT, Night Freight, Generation Scaffoldiing, Bedfordshire Bathrooms, Anglia Hire, etc residential and commercial destinations.

2007 to 2008: Smoke Free Officer: East Northamptonshire Council (Fixed Term Contract)

2005 to 2006: STY Agent: Sainsburys and Agency HGV Driver Parkhouse Recruitment

2005: Consumer TV Consultant

1998 to 2004: Team Leader – Consumer Advice and Enforcement: LB of Waltham Forest

1994 to 1998: Director of Own Company: Sharper Image TV Productions

1985 to 1993: Producer Director / Deputy Editor of Watchdog: BBC TV

1982 to 1985: Investigative Journalist: TVAM

1975 to 1982: Head of Investigations: Westminster Consortium Trading Standards

1974: Trading Standards Officer: LB of Hillingdon , obtained DCA

1968: Trading Standards Officer: LB of Brent (qualified after 4 years)

KEY SKILLS & EXPERIENCE SUMMARY:

· Microsoft Office (Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Outlook, Explorer)

EDUCATION:

· Accredited Smoking Cessation Advisor

· Department of Trade and Industry Professional Qualification 1972

· Diploma in Consumer Affairs 1975

` 11 O levels, 3 A levels : Latin, French, Eng Lan, Eng Lit, History, Economics, Geography, Physics, Chemisty, Biology, Maths

2nd Prize

You will see that even a video I made got to number 2 in the charts, not number one. Sharper Image could not compete as a one man band, even though I had Ian , my son, working and learning with me later. Little old me, never saying no to a job offer when the phone went, even though I was already doing something. No holidays, girl freind work widows. You could not say no, else the phone would not go again. But competing with Walt Disney and the likes............no way.

Final blow was when Discovery said they would take my series idea for inventions. 1997, there was nothing on inventions for the everyday appliances we take for granted and each held a fascinating human interest story. We don't learn it at school, there was nothing on the TV about such items....then, there is now. I was either 10 years ahead of my time Martin Peters style (quote from Alf Ramsey), or else someone nicked the idea. Cos I did not get the commission, over ruled by Washington.

I remember Roger Cook, Cetrl TV, nicking my idea about car theft in 1994. I had an XR3i stolen from a BBC Manchester car park. I could not believe it, late on a Friday night with me living in west London. I phoned the car (car phone) and some punk answered. I even traced their whereabouts and told the police. 6 weeks later I got the wrecked car back. No thanks to the police.

My idea for a story was told to Cook at an interview, use a tracker, set up a car and wait, follow the thieves, confront them. I did not get the job. 8 weeks later I am sitting in front of the box and my exact storyline is broadcast before my eyes................copyright bastards.

Hall of Fame

Allan Sharpe’s Hall of Fame;

some of over 250 films, and 600 court cases that made the headlines

Court Cases

1. 1972. The first was the largest department store in the area, Debenhams Harrow, and a lunch time stroll revealed all sorts of price discrepancies in their Sale, when I spoke to the manager he could not justify them. I had just qualified, the week before, the boss had sent me out on weighbridge inspections, I came back late with a van full of promotion signs, products and a case that made front page headline news.

2. 1998. Derrick James Davies made £1m benefit from the manufacture of counterfeit clothing – 52 brands – he also sold fake champagne, perfume and cigarettes. DJD got 4+ years and lost his mansion in Essex, Villa in Spain and several cars. He had jumped bail and was extradited from Spain and working with FIU his assets were confiscated. It was the longest sentence handed out.

3. 1999. Johnnie Green was a very similar operation, smaller scale he got 18 months.

4. 2004. Dino Simm and Sid Austin got 4 years each in 2004 and had to repay £2m in forfeiture of assets for conspiracy. They had imported pirate DVDs from Malaysia, and in all over 100,000 were seized.

5. 2004.China Industrial Group, 25,000 counterfeit mobile phone accessories and components seized, major importers from China. £500,00 assets forfeiture.

6. 2004. Nadia Traders, another large fake mobile phone importer. 2 years prison, £1m asset forfeiture.

7. 2002. Steven Levy major importer from Thailand of Louis Vuitton fakes - 6 months.

8. 1976. Charring Cross. Chef & Brewer, on a routine inspection noticed the price tags on the bar equipment were 3p more than on price list. Phoned office so that test purchases could be made while I stayed testing the 6 fl oz unjust beer meters. In all 63 charges.

9. 1975 – 1982. Petrol Fraud in the West End , 44 garages caught in 7 years.

10. 1975 – 1982. Short measure drinks in exclusive West End hotels, even the Savoy!

11. Plus car clocking, unroadworthy cars, cut & shuts. Kate Frost and her £4000 Fiesta for her daughter , which was really a write off making a comeback as an unroadworthy 2^nd hand vehicle. It took 18 months to get her compensation through the courts as the traders absconded, and I tracked them down.

12. 2004. Danny Clelland, t/a Imperial Construction, charged with Theft of £21,000 from 4 families. Danny was a con man better at destruction than construction.

13. 1999. Plumbfast and director Steven Baker £21,000 fines for systematic overcharging of their customers.

TV Programmes

1. 1995. Channel 4 half hour expose of Virginia Bottomley’s handling of NHS which led to her removal from office.

2. 1993. BBC2 half hour Expose of Andy Norman, corrupt king of British Athletics who fixed races and drug tests. Norman, an ex Police Officer, resigned after broadcast.

3. 1996.Channel 4 expose of how the police dupe sposes into thinking they hired hit men to kill their other half in orderto secure convictions and how the entrapment was flawed, rough justice.

4. 1991. BBC TV Life on 1, live broadcast of environmental series from Sheffield about recycling are we doing enough – answer no. One of the Best.

5. 1985 BBC TV Watchdog Ron Aylward the Northern entrepreneur in home improvements whose only home improved was his own.

6. 1983. TVAM Shell and short measure petrol memo to pump maintenance. Winner of Consumer Journalist Award.

7. 1986. BBCTV Watchdog: Priceslasher and Thermastore, both huge companies that folded leaving customers and creditors high and dry. TV exposure resulted in evidence handed over to Serious Fraud Office for conviction of directors. 1992. Johnnie Morris of Thermastore was one of Margaret Thatcher’s Captains of Industry who tried to run off with £21m.

8. 1988. BBC TV Half hour Holiday Nightmare Special, including the relocation of 67 OAPs in Spain from grim and disastrous to 5* luxury courtesy of Airtours with a little arm twisting from Watchdog . The film that got me the Deputy Editor job.

9. Pollution, first TV programme to address traffic pollution and cures, also dirty beaches, dirty skies, dirty river, climate change first forecasted 1991………

10. 1991.Petrol Pricing…………..led to the 7 Sisters coming into line with Supermarket prices.

11. 1985.BSM: conned the Dept of Transport to get away with unqualified driving instructors.

12. 1994.Hooligans- why football? why violence? Margaret Thatcher’s greatest export, Video got to number 2 in the charts, beaten by Walt Disney’s Snow White release.

What have you done today to make you feel proud. I have always been a proud person, some say arrogant, some say obstinate, I say determined, principled. I was always proud of my achievements, even scoring a goal from the half way line for Brent at the Welsh Harp, or the winner for BBC against British Gas, a curler free kick from 25 yards out and Andy jumping on my back shouting "What a f......g goal Allan"

I have always been proud of my 2 sons Ian & Graeme too and their ability, intelligence and progess. Just like my Mum worried about me till her death, so I worry about them, and when bad times come their way it hits me too as if it has happened to me. Parental responsibility I guess.

I can do that

I Can do That

I always came 2^nd. I should have known it from an early age. I was at Willesden Grammar School for 7 years. In that time we sat 14 exam sessions. In Geography I came 2^nd 14 times, always beat by someone different. Amazed you will be, as I was, or is it frustration.

I was 2^nd in command at work too, the highest run on the career ladder in the snakes and ladders of ambition.

I did throw some double sixes of the dice, I did not always go down the snakes. I could bite my lip for a period, but then got to a collision course, well there is only so much you can take and why should the buggers get you down, better that they go down.

One of my earliest imprints on my mind was HMS Hood in 1941. The pride of the British Navy. The Battleship was off Iceland with the Prince of Wales and engaged Bismarck, Germany’s largest Battleship. 1415 sailors perished as it was blown out of the water taking a direct hit into the magazine, only 3 crew survived. It was a great loss to Churchill and the nation…………….BUT, as it took the fatal blow it fired its last salvo and crippled the steering on the Bismarck, which enabled our fleet to pursue and eventually sink the Nazi menace to Atlantic convoys.

I read all about this when I was about 7, and my motto ever since was if you go down go down with all guns blazing, and take as many of the buggers down with you.

So………………..

I have probably worked for 3 men that I can say I respected. David Taylor, David Patterson and Nick Hayes, all BBC former Editors. One woman….. Lynn Faulds Wood, who has a great husband and a great bloke John Stappleton.

My happiest days were at the Beeb, current affairs, Lime Grove Shepherd’s Bush London W12. I always wanted to make a mark, leave a legacy, champion David against Goliath, change things for the better. In Trading Standards I could do that in a local community. When I got into TV it was more powerful and influential, than even the courts and it was national even international.

I have always had compassion for the populace at large, though its true to say I have not won many friends, the membership of the Allan Sharpe appreciation society is limited – no riff raff – but I do get irritated by a lack of vision and incompetence by people who should know better. There is a tick box mentality, and there should not be. There is a do what I have to do to get by and no more attitude.

That has never been me, I always went above and beyond the call of duty. I always wanted to dine out on my stories.

But where does it get you………………huh, and who is right, them or me?

Gissa Job

Gissa Job

42 is the answer to the universe, and was also my peak of career.

Before then I thought of promotion, moving on up, being in charge.

After that I thought of survival, not descending, trying to plateau out.

If there are lessons in life in the workplace:

1. A job or career is not for life;
2. Loyalty is 2 way employer - employee;
3. Experience and knowledge counts for little, bullshit counts for more;
4. Getting Older does not help;
5. Arse licking does help;
6. Managers cover their’s – arses;
7. Managers stab you in a part of the body above your arse, yes the back;
8. Managers see employees as a threat to their own existence;
9. Incompetence reigns supreme, some earn their crust others just get a salary;
10. Wankers Win.

As you may probably guess, as I have won and lost and at this stage in my life, I feel I am losing, yes I did have the plot thank you. I am an expert in some areas of life. I worked out once when I had nothing else to do, that I was case officer in about 600 court cases. I only lost 2, both on points of law not the facts. Funnily enough 30 years later the Government , because of Brussels, closed those loop holes. I also made 250 factual TV programmes for broadcast. I hold the record viewing figures for BBCTV Watchdog – 10m. I hold the record sentence for bringing to book a counterfeiter – four and a half years and his assets confiscated.

My point being that there must be a lot of wasted talent, experience and knowledge out there, including MOI !

If I was Prime Minister it would be the first thing I would do. Yes, we need new generations, but mistakes are made every day by employees who are not adequately trained and who do not have guidance from older heads.

I have had 2 main careers in TV journalism and in consumer protection law enforcement and advice.

This may read like a CV, but it would not be politically correct to say what I think in a CV or at work, but why should it not be. The Sweeney was a great TV series, where they said it as it is. Now I drive lorries for various firms, different ones each week. The worse recession (2008) I can remember does not help on the job front. True I have cocked up on that front in the past. Calling some interfering idiot a wanker was one example. He got more money than me and thought he was superior because of that and his elevation in the team structure. Yes a so called line manager, Garry Seal of Waltham Forest and Harlow. Fat, ugly, pompous, environmental health officer, and also a wanker because he was clueless and would not listen. This Arsenal supporter covered his arse, big as it was. He thought he knew it all but knew nothing about my job and still interfered, eg pulling the plug on a crown court case that I had spent 2 years investigating. He was Mr Negative, lets do nothing just pretend, lets tick boxes, what Community, all he could see was a computer screen in his office decorated with Arsenal memorabilia.

I will elude more in separate chapters on the Beeb and Trading Standards, the good times the bad times. These are my memoirs and I compile them when time permits and I feel the flow as opposed to feeling the force, but at least I can hold my head up high and say I did not get where I am today by being a wanker, unlike some.

May the Force be with you.

All monitored systems are functioning

The Medical:

There is enough material for a conference.

A customer offered us a cup of tea and use of her toilet the other day delivering. I gracefully declined. But she said she knew what it was like driving, cos her brother used to drive the buses. Weak bladder, yes I have, but these last 3 days I have gone 9 hours without a leak, blimey. Well there is no where to go. I prefer driving solo, ‘cos then you can go to McDonalds, but with misery guts it was not easy, so mind over matter.

I was told once by a GP that I had to change my lifestyle, eat better, take tablets and slow down. I said I could do one of those, which one he said, I said take the tablets.

Never mind I don’t get the excruciating spasm attacks of pain any more after the gall bladder removal, keyhole surgery in and out in 22 hours. They wake you up every hour cos the heart rate is so low they think you are dead, then they kick you out, “we need the bed” “oh thanks I’ll sit on the wall for a few hours convalescence and wait for a lift” cheers…………….NHS New Labour !!!. Broomfield Hospital Chelmsford 22/08/2001.

Oh and don't have cameras put down your throat, bad idea, it takes 7 nurses to hold down a strapped down male under anaesthetic, who is choking, after which he says to the sister next time I water the garden with the garden hose I will remember you.

More diet hot tips: As well as can't eat fat, and cheese has lots of fat and I like cheese rolls. When I was at BBCTV one survived on coffee all day, long days. Moral of the story for future generations of Sharpe’s…………… eat and drink properly, it pays to look after your body. Don’t do what I did. If you don’t use it you lose it. And things can drop off in the night………….nasty.

And another NHS story 1991 under the Tories……… St Georges Tooting. After my last competitive football match 1991 when the game BBC v local Tooting side of hackers was abandoned after the centre half’s right leg went round like the hands on a clock after a tackle.

Yes I was carried off, not by an ambulance, they were on strike. Even the St Johns Ambulance Brigade made no show, but a green goddess with 2 bandsmen soldiers and a fabric stretcher. Being the injured party and being the only person on the muddy pitch that had done 1^st aid (good old local government), I told the others what to do and strap my good leg to my busted leg. Harry had said, all right Allan, get up your ok…. “ Harry its broken look my bones are sticking out of my sock” “ Oh yes it is bad isn’t it he replied”. Good old Harry, our right winger, he brought 4 bottles of beer visiting time, just before the physio was to teach me crutches the use of. Ably assisted by my team mates kind thoughts, I sailed up and down the stairs, hic!!

Anyway I leap on, difficult with one leg, but how did I know they were bandsmen?? Well French horn emblems on sleeves are a clue. “Does this thing have a siren” the patient asked as we were stuck in a traffic jam that Saturday afternoon, “no, it has a bell”, “then can you ring it please before one of us dies”.

Surgery time …………….count backwards from ten, as you get to three, the anaesthetist says “what leg did he say it was”… “funneeeeeeeeee! Wake up to the Irish version of an angelic soothing calm voice of Florence Nightingale, who tells you who and where you are, it’s handy to know.

Then feeding time. A big fat mama with a trolley and a silver salver. Oh I could get used to this, uh uh, the lift comes off to reveal a pile of french beans, next day a pile of mash. Ok Miss how has this happened, well you ordered it, no, Mr Harris ordered it, Mr Harris has a sense of humour. Now read the name at the end of the bed, does SHARPE spell Harris………answer no, well what do you want then, well what have you got then, corned beef and chips, that will do, book it. Book em Danno Murder one.

Lastly, when nurse thinks its more important to have her cuppa than answer your bell call, don’t press the red button. The cardiac arrest team turns up and then Matron , who tells you off……………bossy boots slapped wrist, oh cant I have the spanked botty punishment Matron, no just behave………….spoil sport.

I,m H A P P Y, I am H A P P Y, I know I am I’m sure I am, I’m H A P P Y.

A history of Sharper Image

Chapter 87:

Time changes every thing, where are they now??, Come on you Spurs, music was my first love, he who dares wins (and loses), I hate losing, it’s not the taking part, better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, gissa job, I can do that, do we really have a choice?

I intend to fill this with the memoirs eventually. So I've started just need to finish.

formulative years

Memories like the Corners of my Mind

One of the earliest memories I have is walking across an iron bridge back from Neasden Hospital with a squeaky voice. I had just spent about a week there having my tonsils out as a circa 4 year old. On reflection, and as Neasden Hospital, now a housing estate, was near the North Circular Road, the Iron Bridge was the North Circular road near Neasden Lane and opposite where Ikea stands now.

Willesden was a nice place then , early 1950’s. Immigration transformed the area in the 70’s and 80’s. Brent Council formed in 1965 on the break up of the London County Council, demolished a lot of it. The white population changed to multicultural black population. I hate going through there now a days. It is so depressing. Poverty exudes, black people hanging and sitting around outside in the street. Pubs closed, the White Horse on the corner of Church Road and Roundwood Road no longer. The White Hart where my sister Pat and her new husband Mick held their Wedding reception in 1962, gone. They used to have Go Go dancers there lunch times in the 70’s. The 2 churches are still there. One dates back to Norman times. I always marvelled at it as a kid walking past. As a kid that’s what you did…….walk. I walked to school. I walked to the shops. There were few cars on the road. Those that were parked sporadically were distinctive designs, like the angled Mayflower and the Austin Cambridge. The Wolsey, the Riley, The Humber Super Snipe. The list of old names goes on. My first car was the Ford 105e Anglia. The one with the inverted rear screen. Cars had rear fins and wing mirrors. They also had defective engines. Quality was poor by comparison with today’s cars. But they were distinctive, and recognisable by shape, not name badge.

I went to Oldfield Road Junior School, after Essex Road Nursery. I lived in Essex Road (49 in 49), I had been born in the front room. My biological father had left apparently when I was one, after saying to my Mum previously, I will be a footballer. Well I never had a male role model. Not till Mick met Pat , my only sister, at the Locarno dance hall in the Strand. The Locarno is a theatre these, days venue for the Lion King. Mick and Pat are still married, a remarkable achievement. My Mum worked at Essex Road Nursery as a cook. I don’t know how she was ever a cook, before Jamie Oliver’s time obviously. One of my favourite past times as a child was to pull Christmas tree pine needles out of my custard at Easter time! Hair out of the gravy all the time. Poor Mum, she had bad eye sight, she only saw what she wanted to see. Our home was a total mess, made worse by dogs we had, who did not like being left alone all day. Any carpet we had was always scratched and chewed up. I do not exaggerate. The living room was always a disaster zone. I was ashamed to bring any school friends in. We also had an outside toilet in a yard, another embarrassment. We lived downstairs in a private rented ground floor flat. I don’t know why we did not live in a council flat. I think Mum was too proud and also ignorant of the welfare state. I remember always being dragged round to the county court in St Marys Road Harlesden. I would sit on the seat in the clerk’s room, there was a big counter. My Mum would ask for a court order to get my Dad to court to pay the alimony. He never did. When he turned up I never saw him. He only turned up on a warrant. Apparently he told the court I was not his child. He had walked out before on my Mum after when my only sister Pat was about 4. She is 8 years older than me, a Gemini born in 1941. Whereas I am a Leo. But as for astrological characteristics my father is a Leo too, so endeth any parallels, I hope, though I am not so sure. Certainly I am proud, and any stubbornness I put down to principles, principles I set myself at my formulative years.

Anyway we were poor. I remember passing the 11+. I did not even know I was sitting it. I got a bike from Fudges next to the White Horse. Blue straight handle bars. I eventually rode it after my Mum ran behind holding the saddle, for days. Yes, embarrassment crept in at a tender age. I walked to Willesden County Grammar School in Doyle Gardens Harlesden. I used to walk through the cemetery in Roundwood Road and then through the adjoining Roundwood Park. It was about 30 minute pleasant walk. I remember traipsing through the fallen leaves at the start of a new year. Yes, in those days we had an autumn and the leaves were down in early September. I knew the names of most of the trees, not Harry or Fred, I mean species, my favourite was the Horse Chestnut tree, and its conkers. I suppose all kids like them. I used to study the names on the graves too and how old were they and when they died. I used to try to find the grave that had been there the longest time. I used to look at the cars as I walked to school too. Something I learned only recently was that my father’s parents were buried there in 1962. I did not know that even though I knew them and I walked past them almost 6ft under every day. Something else my sister told me recently ad nauseum was that she left me outside the post office in a pram, and only remembered when Mum asked where I was. So life could have been different. Throw a double six and land on another square and have another roll of the dice.

At Oldfield Junior I can remember our class teacher Miss Bassleigh. She must have been 50 odd. I respected her. I remember hating spelling, but surprised myself, when I had to stand up and spell out loud words like MEAN, and I got it right, much to every one’s astonishment around me, including my own. But a nice smile from the teacher. I used to like doing IQ tests, I think I had a quotient of 153. Miss Basslieigh used to write on my reports every year that I needed to come out of my shell. On reflection, I was a loner. I used to watch TV and read factual books. I did not go to a library, I don’t think Willesden had one. Mum used to buy me the Knowledge. A weekly supplement in colour that built up to encyclopaedia in folders. I would spend my days reading that and Football annuals. I would watch Boycott and Edrich open the batting for England on the TV. My favourite was Ted Dexter, the captain, he played for Sussex too. He would always score fast runs, then get out in the 70’s. I hated it when he got out. But good old Boycott would be there 2 days running, they never got him out. These were the days of Fiery Fred Trueman (Yorkshire fast bowler) and Derek Statham his Lancashire counterpart. England ruled the world in those days. We must have lost sometimes, but I don’t remember.

Getting back to Oldfield Rd School……………my road Essex Road was next to Curzon Crescent, a massive council estate built in the 30’s. It was horrible and dangerous. People would aim milk bottles at you from their balconies. Yes we had milk man deliveries in electric milk floats. We also had electric trolley buses on overhead cables and tram lines too. Billy Elliot was from Curzon Crescent. He was the school bully. Bigger than everyone else helped. He never did anything himself, he did not need to, all he had to do was look. But, he did have henchmen like Danny Jones. He was smaller and weedier, but really nasty. One day after morning playtime, I was climbing back up the concrete stairs lined by brown and cream tiled walls. Danny Jones started wrestling me from the back. Why I don’t know. By the time I got to the top of the stairs and with a teacher onlooking only, I let go with a right hook as I turned to fend him off me. I connected. Amazed, truly my first ever punch. Danny Jones went all the way down the stairs and never got up. He was taken to hospital, and did not come to school for about 6 months. I was about 10 in the 4^th year, it was autumn. The upshot was I never got into trouble, I guess they viewed it as self defence. Billy Elliot paraded me around the school yard as his new number 2, huge arm around me. He was about 5’6” and fat I was 5’ and a skinny 5 stone. I was in awe, and so was every other kid. It was all white at my school, there were a few Irish families in the locality. Now they have renamed Oldfield as Leopold. That was the name of the secondary school my sister went to.

I also remember standing on the corner at lunch time one day outside Oldfield school waiting for my sister. She used to work at Boots the chemist in Harlesden by now, having left secondary school at 15. Some bigger older kid from another school, came up to me and started hitting me with a towel, I guess he had been swimming. After a few minutes the 7^th Cavalry arrived round the bend. I heard a screech of brakes and my sister yelling out, “get off my little brother” and as her bike sped past, she launched herself from the saddle on the back of the unsuspecting bully, game over player one! It was just like John Wayne and Geronimo on the Saturday morning flix, at the Granada next to the White Hart. The cowboys were always cheered and them pesky redskins were always booed, with great laughter and merriment. The 1^st film I saw at the Dambusters in Clacton, on our yearly weekly B&B holiday. It was all b&w in those days. Our 1^st TV was b&w and we would all sit on the floor looking at ballet. That was all there was. We had to switch it off before the epilogue and the national anthem. Mum would insist. Then the screen would go pin to a shrinking white dot. Later on my mum would be seen asleep every night slumped in front of the TV. She did 3 jobs at one stage morning, day and evening. Her highlight was the wrestling on ITV every Saturday.

Poor old Mum, she died October 29^th 1991 about 7.30am. She had always phoned me when I was divorced on a Saturday afternoon and left a message that used up the 30 minute tape on the answafone. She knew I was playing football. But she always wanted to speak and not listen anyway. I wish I had kept those tapes. One of the reasons for writing this is a legacy. At her funeral I made a speech on the basis I did not want her existence on the planet to go unnoticed. By the time I wanted to keep, not wipe, the tapes, she had fallen too ill to communicate further. 6 strokes and 6 months later she was dead RIP. 74, she had a hard lonely life. She would always take me to Hampstead Heath on a Sunday on the 266 or the 260 trolley bus. I had to squat low in the seat to get a half fare from the conductor. I had a toy yacht and always sailed it on the horses pond near the Jack Straws Highway Man’s pub. I loved that. Hampstead was so open with the trees and grassland, Mum even tried to bowl, and I would act out Geoffrey Boycott forward defensive batting. She always wore a colourful frock on Sundays. Though most of the time she embarrassed my sister in Boots the Chemist. She had bad eyesight, so would speak to all manner of customers and staff alike as to the whereabouts of Pat, she’s the supervisor you know” she said proudly. Poor Pat would be hiding round the back store room. I liked comics and Mum acted the part of Mr Blimp arf arf, though she never quite conversed with a pillar box. I remember Pat and Mick collecting Mum and I from the Cornwall train at Paddington station once. Pat said we were dressed like refugees. I think we only had one suitcase, so we had to wear all the clothes for the week, yes 3 jumpers, all at once………. Probably had not washed for a week either. That was the holiday in a caravan park on the Lizard cliff edge. We had Chum, a big brown hairy bundle on four legs and always panting. Another dog used to terrorise him every day then on day 5, a la Danny Jones style, Chum finished what had been started. He grabbed the dog in his jaws by its tail and literally swung the dog from side to side yelping. That dog did a huge detour past our caravan after that, with Chum sitting and panting outside in the sunshine, the wind blowing his coat.

Chum saved me once. From the Essex Road Gang, about 12 strong. They chased me after school down the road. I guess they resented a grammar school kid in uniform. Only 4 of us at Oldfield passed the 11+. By the time I got to the front door the kids were close behind me, shouting and waving broom sticks etc . Chum was always poised like a coiled spring and always excited, so the noise had brought him to a peak. As I opened the door, Chum was there panting, I said go get them Chum and he did, woosh he jumped over the gate and hit them as if they were ten pins, strike, they were fleeing in disarray up from where they had come with me looking over the gate waving, Chum caught up with Johnny Doyle and grabbed the rear of his trousers and in true comic style action ripped the back on his trousers off, with the trophy still in his mouth and his tail wagging as he trotted back to me. Those kids never went near me ever again. Good Boy Chum.

But Chum alas turned on me one night, when he wanted my wagon wheel chocolate, and attacked me, then attacked me again later when I was in my bed. I was about 12. The Vet said he had got jealous of Mick and saw him as an intruder, but maybe he just lost it in his head. Poor chum had to be put down. He had already eaten my grass snake that I had just bought. I knew it was him, when I came back with a metal cage, No grass snake and Chum’s stomach doing an impersonation of a washing machine, and a mouth that was firmly closed and in need of alka seltzer. He had also attacked the hamster, Goldie, who tried the Great Escape and sort refuge from its canine preditor behind the TV covered in dust………..I told you it was grubby.

I had spent time decorating, I painted the small hall and wallpapered it once age 17 while News at Ten was on. My first demolition was age 12 the grate fireplace. I nuked the front hedge, painted the outside of the house. Zapped the antnests in the back yard with molten plastic, true bombing raids. Set fire to the Castle I had just built with matchsticks fired from toy cannons. At 14 I even set fire to the door of the outside toilet when a spark got into the suitcase of fireworks. Mum Pat and Mick were all sitting there when I eventually ran in as a smoking joe after taking in initial shelter in the said toilet as rockets climbed the walls and ceiling, and bangers bombarded the smoldering door, before in true Towering Inferno tradition, I lept to sanctuary through the flames. All Mick did was smirk and my mum thought it was all of my traditional display! I liked games. Mick had introduced me into Subbuteo table top flick football. He bought me 2 teams as a Christmas Present. I had discovered there was no Father Christmas at age 5 when I woke up one Christmas morning at 3am to see my mum and sister putting presents at the foot of my bed. The same bedroom when I woke one night to see the bogey man sitting on a chair behind the door. I never have a chair facing a bed anymore. He had long blonde hair and long red coat and he had a hideous laugh. Every night after he used to step loudly pace by pace down the hill from the Church in Church Road to Essex Road. He had big vivid red lips too.

I had lots of games to take my mind off the boggy man and stop me from hysterical crying. I asked for a lolly on a hot day once, and mum refused thinking I said lorry. But I had Monopoly and soldiers and guns, bats and ball. I would play right foot against left foot and right hand against left hand against the toilet wall. I would play games myself versus myself, and take each player in turn or play left hand against right hand, ambi dextrous huh!!!! Multi talented, they don't know the meaning of it !!! arf arf. I would climb onto the toilet roof, fell off once, cracked my head open, never been the same since. I climbed to the top of next door’s cherry tree swaying in the breeze, overlooking the rooftops. That was in Aunty Solly’s garden, she lived in the dreaded Curzon Crescent, but her house was private and posh. She was a neighboutr not an Aunty, but this was the world of discovery I was brought into. Confused you will be. I was 12 before I realised my Mum’s version of events was not always accurate. For instance, attaché case, really meant suit case. She asked for a marriage licence at the Post Office one, and was told of her misspelling by the teller. Only to repeat Colonel Blimp style that oh it’s not marrage it is M A R R IIIIII AGE…………arf arf!!

Yes I liked the Beezer and the Beano, Desperate Dan and his Cow Pie, Dennis the Menace. I also liked the Charles Buchan football annuals. Mick was teaching me how to be a goal keeper, and narrow the angle, dive at the oppositions feet, all glory.

My world was one of discovery and reactment. I was clever at passing tests and exams because I developed a photographic memory, I literally turned the pages of the books I had read in my head when asked a question, in order to give the answer. I had no father figure. I only got into trouble with the law when I got a scooter and became a late Mod with Parka, mirrors, racks and chrome panels on a Lambretta TV175.

Pulled up and chased regularly by the uniform men. Accused on swerving round lollipop women and Tony Macedo on the back giving her a V sign. Even dressed in school uniform with a prefects badge on, did not get me off a not guilt plea, fined £15.

To be continues, stay tuned to this channel……………….