Most people enjoy a good night out.
The problem here is with the definition of “good”.
If I look back over the last few years I can see how the scale I use to rate a night as highly enjoyable or not has changed with my age.
Like most of my friends, I’ve started to realise that I’m getting old.
Or I am old.
Depends on the perspective, I suppose.
I used to consider it to be a good night out when I’ve had a few laughs, got drunk and ended up being steered by some of the more sober members of the group to the nearest takeaway/tree/taxi depending on whether food/a pee or a pee was deemed required.
Hell, we even used to go for a meal out afterwards. A sit down one, with cutlery, and surely waiters bringing us warm beer and cold poppadums.
Gone are the days when we’d all gather around something partially edible and joke until the small hours.
Nowadays I fear the hangover, so often offer to drive.
As most teetotallers will testify being the only sober one isn’t always the most fun.
But I’m not the only sober one.
One of us is giving his greenslip/finishes his chores so late that he tends to drive himself.
I can understand this - it’s probably a combination of trying to get the weekend completed from a family perspective whilst not letting friends down.
So he drives rather than make everyone else late. Admirable.
Another? Ah, he has to get up at some stupid time of the morning to make it to work.
5 am, I think.
If you had a big night out on a Saturday, what time would you feel would be acceptable for Sunday to begin? 9? 8? 7?
Even if I didn’t have a hangover, I’d not want to face 7.
So I feel for my friend, in a compassionate but highly non-physical heterosexual way.
He also doesn’t want to let his mates down, and probably deserves a beer or two, but fears the approach of Monday am more than most. So he also drives.
I’m not convinced the problem is one of being entirely too busy, though.
I used to find Friday or Saturday whizzed by, as I had to do various things before I could get rat-arsed and talk someone out of their shoes.
Nowadays my weekend passes as quickly as any other as the progression towards Monday charges along.
And there lies the true problem.
By the time Sunday evening has arrived, I’m doing something else.
I’m not raring to go.
I’m not actually cowering in a corner dreading morning, but I’m doing the next best thing.
I’m distracting myself from the new working week.
And watching the Antiques Roadshow is not the best way to rev yourself up for a night out, even with the best companionship.
Someone rather entertainingly added our BNOs to Ex-ratings.com.
My response was to point out that the N in BNO stands for “Night”.
I don’t remember when we last had a Boys Night Out, but it realistically has been a Boys Couple of Hours on a Sunday Evening for a long time.
We are old. We are not, however, dull.
Most of us, I suspect, aren’t happy with our jobs. But then again, who is?
Gynaecologists, perhaps. Nice work if you can get it.
I didn’t used to give a stuff about the approach of Monday.
A night out would deaden some of the remote feelings I had about the joylessness of Monday morning, but it wasn’t needed. I’d been counting the days to going out. Now I’m counting the hours until I’m back at the same damn desk.
This tends to be accompanied by the less than helpful late nights. I stay up late on a Saturday or Sunday often to try to lengthen those days. I’m enjoying myself, being with my family, hurling abuse at Netgear’s shonky products and so forth.
I didn’t go to bed until 1:30am this morning.
Why?
Because Sundays are a lot more interesting than work. Always.
Yesterday I spoke to two of the whqttt collective.
One was crying off the night out. Busy. Aye, I had a pumpkin to carve too.
The other?
He was not, I think, looking forward to 5am. He seemed completely unaware of the arrangements. He was so obviously and overwhelmingly tired, that I fear for his health.
How about the others? No sound from either of them. So I assumed that they were probably also busy. Or had forgotten. So I shamefully didn’t pursue the matter.
I realise this is probably going to be put down as a facetious comment, but I honestly think people need a good night out.
Something proper. Something so exciting that people will shave/put on a clean shirt/show up.
It’ll be Christmas soon.
What would I like?
To hear my friends laugh.
For Nolan to retell how he once misread the surname Suchett.
For Andy to end up with another unfortunate nickname.
For Dan to, well…let’s not go there. He’ll tell a joke, and if we’ve all been drinking we’ll laugh at it.
And for Flipper, I think, to not worry about feeling increasingly guilty about not driving, and for everyone to find their own way there for once. No cars.
Great Booze Up. Keep your eyes open for details. Except Andy, try to get some kip before hand.
October 31st, 2005
A few days ago the British press quietly announced that the Crown Prosecution Service had decided that charges would not be pressed against Chief Inspector Neil Sharman, or PC Keven Fagan, who had been arrested in June following the death of Harry Stanley.
Harry Stanley had been walking home from a pub in Hackney in September 1999 when the officers shot him in the head and hand.
The officers claim (as they did 5 years ago) that the were acting in self-defence.
(Let’s ignore the policy that armed officers have that they should aim for the chest, to maximise the chance of hitting the subject, shall we?)
Although the charges have been dropped, the officers had been arrested on suspicion of gross negligence, manslaughter and conspiracy to pervert the course of justice.
Now the story of how Harry met his death is a curious one.
It appears that the officers had received a tip off that he had been carrying a shotgun in the pub, and decided that the best approach would be to confront him late at night outside.
After he’d been drinking.
Personally I’d have thought if they believed there was a very real danger to life and limb, then their duty would have required for them to have approached him in the pub.
But they didn’t.
They were waiting for him outside. The only witnesses to the shooting were the three men involved. The Police claim that they said “stop, Police”, and he then turned and raised the weapon, and so they fired.
A mere 5 years after Harry died, a forensic inspection of his clothing revealed that he appeared to have been shot twice in the shoulder from behind. But there isn’t enough evidence to prove this.
So Harry is dead. The officers who killed him are free to, well, I don’t know what the Met do with officers who have been arrested and then released. I guess they won’t be getting a pat on the back though.
Oh, and the weapon that Harry was carrying?
It was a table leg. In a bag.
So I’ve spent a little time researching the somewhat startling number of deaths that have happened at the hands of the Police.
Between 1969 and 1999, over a thousand people have died whilst in Police custody.
The number of officers convicted as a result of any of these deaths?
Zero.
Statistically that seems a little low, doesn’t it? Perhaps worryingly so.
Of course, accidents happen. Arrested people can be in any number of states, they could be drunk, stoned, suicidal, previously involved in a fight. So I appreciate a few deaths will happen in custody. But one every 11 days?
Here’s a few of those picked at random:
Andre Savvas, Age unknown, 29/04/71, Died from fractured skull in Hornsey police station, Inquest verdict unknown.
Winston Rose, 27, 13/07/81, Died in police van after being restrained by police officers taking him to psychiatric hospital, Unlawful killing at the hands of the police.
Colin Roach, Age unknown, 12/01/83, Died of gunshot wound sustained while he was in Stoke Newington police station, Suicide.
(You’d rather have hoped that the Police would stop people having guns in their own station, wouldn’t you?
James Ruddock, 44, 14/02/83, Died after being denied treatment for diabetes and sickle cell for 12 hours in Kensington police station, Natural causes attributed to self neglect.
Femi Adelaja, 36, February 19, Died of a heart condition in a cell at Old Bailey; was denied treatment for sarcoidosis of the heart, Inquest verdict unknown.
Mr Romany, Age unknown, October 1989, Found dead in Chanings Wood prison; other prisoners said his screaming for a day and a night had been ignored, Inquest verdict unknown.
Omasase Lumumba, 32, 08/10/91, Died of a ‘heart attack’ while being ‘controlled and restrained’ by 6 guards in Pentonville, Unlawfully killed using improper methods and excessive force in the process of control and restraint.
Arthur Allison, 50, 1992, Died four days after being arrested by Leicester police, Inquest verdict unknown.
Jerome Scott, 27, 23/06/92, Collapsed and died on the way to hospital in a police van after being given two injections, Therapeutic misadventure.
Leon Patterson, 32, 21/11/92, Died while on remand at Stockport police station, Unlawful killing verdict was overturned in 1994 and changed to ‘Misadventure to which neglect contributed’.
Randhir Showpal, 43, 19/12/92, Died in Norbury police station after being detained under the Mental Health Act, Misadventure.
Adejare Akinbiyi, 30, 10/03/93, Died after suffering a succession of severe asthma attacks in Belmarsh, Accidental death brought about by lack of care.
Joy Gardner, 40, 01/08/93, Died after being arrested by ’specialist’ officers from the Extradition Unit of the Met; was gagged with 13 feet of tape, Inquest adjourned till trial of officers involved, officers later acquitted.
Shkander Singh, 37, 19/09/94, Died in Stewart Street police station (Glasgow); Had been heard shouting and crying in cell but was ignored, Heart Failure.
Oluwashiji Lapite, 34, 16/12/94, Died during a struggle with police officers from Stoke Newington police station, Unlawful Killing. In June 1998 the CPS reaffirmed its decision not to prosecute the officers involved.
Brian Douglas, 33, 08/05/95, Died 8 days after being restrained with new batons by Clapham police officers, Misadventure.
Kenneth Severin, 25, 26/11/95, Found dead in his cell at Bellmarsh after being restrained face down by 8 guards, Open verdict.
Wayne Douglas, 25, 05/12/95, Died in Brixton police station, Accidental death.
Alton Manning, 33, 09/12/95, Died after being forcibly restrained by 8 guards at Blakenhurst (private) prison, Unlawful killing. In March 1999 the CPS decided not to prosecute the officers involved in his death, saying that there was no realistic prospect of obtaining a conviction.
Ibrahima Sey, 29, 16/03/96, Died after being sprayed (while handcuffed) with CS spray in Ilford police station, Unlawful killing. In October 1998 the CPS decided that there was not enough evidence to prosecute the officers involved in his death.
Ziya Bitirim, 47, April 96, Died after collapsing and vomiting during his arrest, Accidental death.
Donovan Williams, 36, April 96, Died after collapsing in his cell during a search in Peckham police station, Accidental death.
Ahmed El Gammal, 33, 13/8/96, Died after struggling with police from Leyton police station, Inquest verdict unknown.
George Bosie Davies, 36, 7/10/96, Died in Marylebone police station after being arrested on suspicion of being drunk, Inquest verdict unknown.
Herbert Gabbidon, 68, 10/01/97, Died while in the custody of Walsall police who were deporting him back to Jamaica, Inquest verdict unknown.
Peter San Pedro, 25, 3/04/97, Died after walking into path of lorry hours after being arrested and sprayed with CS spray, Open verdict.
Lytton Shannon, 36, 1/05/97, Collapsed and died after being arrested by Wolverhampton police, Inquest verdict unknown.
Christopher Alder, 37, 1/04/98, Died after being arrested by Hull police; dragged to the station; placed on floor face down and handcuffed. In June 2002 a judge ordered the jury to clear 5 police officers charged with manslaughter and misconduct in public office charges because of conflicting evidence on how he died, Unanimous unlawful killing verdict.
James Ashley, 39 Shot during a police drugs raid on his house in Sussex in 1998. Ashley was unarmed, naked and with his girlfriend.
PROSECUTIONS: Officer who fired the shot found not guilty of murder or manslaughter.
Roger Sylvester, 30, 18/01/99, Died 7 days after being restrained by police in Tottenham, Inquest verdict unknown.
Derek Bennett, 29, 16/7/01, Shot in the back four times by Brixton police who alleged they were called by a member of the public; Derek was carrying a novelty lighter shaped like a gun, Inquest verdict unknown. CPS found insufficient evidence to prosecute.
Ricky Bishop, Age unknown, 22/11/01, Taken to Brixton police station to be searched where he was restrained; then taken to Kings College hospital where he died, Inquest verdict unknown.
Kwame Sasu Wiredu, Age unknown, 30/08/02, Arrested and taken to Stoke Newington police station where he complained of stomach pains; a doctor claimed he was fit enough to be detained; he was later found collapsed in his cell and died in Homerton hospital, Inquest verdict unknown.
And Jean Charles De Menezes, 27.
You’ve probably noticed a few of those didn’t take place at Police Stations. Some didn’t actually involve the Police, but the Prison Service. I’ve included them to show that the problem isn’t just with the Police.
People under the suspicion of committing crimes can sometimes cause the services involved in their capture and restraint a few problems.
I’m not calling for all criminals to be handled with kid gloves, but the balance of probabilities should mean that officers err on the side of caution. There is a duty to preserve life, every much with the Police as there is with Doctors.
I’m probably not the only person who feels like this. I’m sure Stephen Waldorf feels the same.
He was in a car with his friend, Sue Stephens, when Police marksmen surrounded his car and shot him several times in the head and body.
Their reason?
Apparently they had mistaken Ms Stephens for David Martin’s girlfriend, and therefore had decided that Mr Waldorf was Mr Martin, an escaped prisoner.
Now the biggest problem with the argument that the Police involved were acting entirely in accord with their own guidelines is this one:
The shooting took place in a traffic jam in Earl’s Court.
There were plenty of witnesses, including Baroness Helen de Westenholz (and who says the aristocracy doesn’t have their uses?)
The only reason Mr Waldorf survived was because the police “marksman” had emptied his gun from point blank range while trying to kill him, so that when he pressed it against Waldorf’s head, said “okay cocksucker” and then pulled the trigger the gun was already empty.
Of course, this is a witness statement versus a Police one, and therefore the witness is probably wrong. Maybe.
The two officers involved, John Jardine and Peter Finch, stood trial for attempted murder and attempted wounding but were cleared of all charges in October 1983.
And yet the police wonder why they are sometime seen more as foe than friend. Odd that, eh?
I’d like to thank the good folk of uk.legal, the channel4 community website, The Independent and a few others for their insights and information.
I presently live far enough away for my encounters with the Met to be few and far between. For this I am also thankful. Very.
October 22nd, 2005
