Blown’ in the Wind

This is not really about America. It’s got nothing to do with the dust bowl. Except maybe, in Economic terms, that’s where we are heading. Because with an austerity budget, I see dust bowls in a lot of places.

And because were not America, and because just at the backend of the City there are no areas where homeless people push shopping carts full of their possessions. And because there is now a £400 cap on Housing Benefit, which translates in London as a three bedroom flat, we have a hell of a lot of people squeezed into tiny spaces.

Just the other day I was told that my waiting time for my hospital appointment was guaranteed. There was no more waiting for hours to be seen. And I was glad, because I had a dole appointment in the afternoon.


So the new budget removes targets for waiting times at doctors, interesting. So what is blown’ in the wind is a hell of a lot of waiting, maybe until you die. Well unless you’re privileged, and so can bypass all of the waiting.


I was never a fan of a lot of the New Labour targets; the educational ones were nonsensical, because learning happens in such an un-empirical fashion. And some of the hospital targets just encouraged a slap dash approach to patient care – get them in, get them out. But waiting around, that’s concrete and manageable. Just get a good appointments system and don’t let those loudmouths (I’ve seen it happen) jump the queue.

So you’ve got what you voted for. I do really wonder if those Tory voters (in the South, because every where else people voted Labour) wanted all their luxury goods to rise by another 5%. Ah well I suppose they can afford 20% VAT. But ask a poor person the next time they pay their BT bill (expect the toffs don’t think a phone/internet is necessary for the poor!)

I’m still trying to figure out what the true Liberal Democrats are thinking, because their boys in power appear to be Tory lapdogs.

The answer my friend is (truly) blowing in the wind.

Benefit Thieves

I’m mad, mad as hell, that’s what I am today. Mad with the people who make some distinction between the working poor and the unemployed poor. Well when I was working, I was part of the working poor. On paper I earned way above the national average, but that’s no use when you live in London. The threshold for tax credits and housing benefit was way below my income, so I subsisted.

Housing costs are the problem; I pay/have paid a fortune in rent. That’s not because I enjoyed giving my money away hand over fist to a buy-to-let landlord. No it’s because there was no affordable housing.

If you were poor in the 70s and 80s. There were options. Housing co-ops, Social Housing, Squats. Or just affordable rents. In the 80s and 90s I could get a mortgage, because property prices were realistic. I paid £200 a month in 1997 for my mortgage, and that was a 90% one. I would be pushed to find a weekly rent for that these days. I’m talking about North London, not anywhere else.

I sold my last house when my relationship broke down. But once everything was divided-up, there was little left over for a deposit. So I went back to renting, and that’s where I find myself now.

Because I’m unemployed, Housing Benefit pays my rent. But everything else comes out of the £64 a week. And that requires some serious creative accounting. I’ve sold things, I’ve accepted handouts from family and I’ve even tried to sell my body.

I’ve been close to getting work, had a couple of interviews. Been promised a job working in Europe, but that’s remains just a promise.


My current strategy involves getting part time work, using one of my old skills. One I’ve not actually practiced for thirteen years. Because of the huge gap in my CV when I did something completely different; it’s unlikely I’m going to get any response. But I’m trying, trying to be creative.

A friend of mine was made redundant a month before me. He has three kids, a mortgage and does not receive housing benefit. Or rather he receives a sum that covers part of his mortgage repayment. The shortfall, that includes the cost of supporting a family, is made up by relatives.

Like me he’s at the wrong end of 40. Ageism in our profession is rife, and never discussed. But that’s the great buttress holding both of us back. When a prospective employer sees our respective CVs, he/she does not see a wealth of experience; they see a tired-out old man. And even if we look young and healthy, have our own teeth and hair; we are dammed by the chronology on our CVs.


Before accusing people of being benefit thieves; consider their circumstances first. There is a huge amount of wasted talent, consigned to the dustbin. So employers can employ cheaper, younger, team-players (yes another euphemism for not being old).

And to repeat the theme of an earlier post; everything I have learned is just floating about in the ether. I have virtually a photographic memory for facts, and can put these facts to creative use. But the only openings for people like me appear to involve handing out wire-baskets at supermarket entrances.