A.P.McCOY (3)
The jump jockey A.P.McCoy rode his 4,000th winner this week, a record which is unlikely to be beaten. The 18-time champion's nearest competitor Richard Johnson is way back on 2,567, so there is quite a margin.
I have to admit to feeling rather sorry for Johnson. In most sports, he would be a champion in his own right, but he has finished runner-up to McCoy in the jockeys' championship no less than 15 times. That must be hard to deal with.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday, 9 November 2013
Friday, 8 November 2013
FREE DENTISTRY
My sister-in-law, after training as a kindergarten teacher and working in social affairs for the local council, has changed course at the age of 40 and decided to train as a dental technician. As part of her training, she needed a few guinea pigs on whom she could practice her teeth-cleaning skills. Since it was free and I am family, I volunteered.
I have very crooked teeth, a legacy of my youth, when braces were painful, injections were virtually unknown and gas was common. So cleaning my teeth to get rid of the build-up of gunk is not easy. My regular dentist obviously finds this sort of thing desperately tedious, so he does it in 10 minutes flat; which in turn means I tend to sweat a lot while he does it and end up with sore gums. My sister-in-law, being a beginner and wanting to do it properly, took a leisurely two hours, which was fine by me.
After the cleaning there was further practice with x-rays, including a panoramic view of my head. That was worth doing, since she found a tooth, which looked as if it had become infected. It was only after she pointed this out that I (and she) noticed that the tooth in question was in fact a bit loose. So that's going to have to come out next Thursday, unless of course it comes out of its own accord before then.
Unfortunately, because my sister-in-law isn't yet in the tooth-extracting business, that won't be free. I suppose you can't have everything.
Walter Blotscher
My sister-in-law, after training as a kindergarten teacher and working in social affairs for the local council, has changed course at the age of 40 and decided to train as a dental technician. As part of her training, she needed a few guinea pigs on whom she could practice her teeth-cleaning skills. Since it was free and I am family, I volunteered.
I have very crooked teeth, a legacy of my youth, when braces were painful, injections were virtually unknown and gas was common. So cleaning my teeth to get rid of the build-up of gunk is not easy. My regular dentist obviously finds this sort of thing desperately tedious, so he does it in 10 minutes flat; which in turn means I tend to sweat a lot while he does it and end up with sore gums. My sister-in-law, being a beginner and wanting to do it properly, took a leisurely two hours, which was fine by me.
After the cleaning there was further practice with x-rays, including a panoramic view of my head. That was worth doing, since she found a tooth, which looked as if it had become infected. It was only after she pointed this out that I (and she) noticed that the tooth in question was in fact a bit loose. So that's going to have to come out next Thursday, unless of course it comes out of its own accord before then.
Unfortunately, because my sister-in-law isn't yet in the tooth-extracting business, that won't be free. I suppose you can't have everything.
Walter Blotscher
Wednesday, 6 November 2013
DANISH POLITICS (7)
It seems that the hole into which former Prime Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen has dug himself gets bigger and bigger. The 20 October press conference, at which he presented details of all his first-class travel and hotel costs, was supposed to be the definitive end to the story. Unfortunately, as journalists pored over the bills and expense claims in the following days, the story refused to die. In particular, they came across one glaring inconsistency. Mr. Rasmussen swore at the press conference that he had never received cash per diems from GGGI, the organisation in question, which he had jetted around the world promoting. This turns out not to be true.
The amounts involved (under US$1,000) are trivial, particularly when set in the context of those first-class airfares. But they matter for three reasons. First, Mr. Rasmussen should have reported them to the authorities. Danish ex-Prime Ministers, who run the risk of being out of a job from one day to another, are given a generous state salary. However, that salary is reduced krone for krone by any other income that the person does in fact earn (in other words, if they get a well-paid business job, then they don't need the state salary). By not declaring those per diems, Mr. Rasmussen is in effect getting more from the state than he should.
Secondly, in certain circumstances, those per diems are taxable. So, again, by not declaring them, Mr. Rasmussen is not paying the requisite amount of tax.
Possibly cheating the state and possibly not paying taxes are bad things for any Danish politician to do. Which brings me to the third reason. Mr. Rasmussen is single-handedly undermining his own credibility as a once-and-future Prime Minister, and harming all of the right-wing opposition parties, for whom a great part of their electability is their supposedly strong economic and financial management. It's not a pretty sight.
Walter Blotscher
It seems that the hole into which former Prime Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen has dug himself gets bigger and bigger. The 20 October press conference, at which he presented details of all his first-class travel and hotel costs, was supposed to be the definitive end to the story. Unfortunately, as journalists pored over the bills and expense claims in the following days, the story refused to die. In particular, they came across one glaring inconsistency. Mr. Rasmussen swore at the press conference that he had never received cash per diems from GGGI, the organisation in question, which he had jetted around the world promoting. This turns out not to be true.
The amounts involved (under US$1,000) are trivial, particularly when set in the context of those first-class airfares. But they matter for three reasons. First, Mr. Rasmussen should have reported them to the authorities. Danish ex-Prime Ministers, who run the risk of being out of a job from one day to another, are given a generous state salary. However, that salary is reduced krone for krone by any other income that the person does in fact earn (in other words, if they get a well-paid business job, then they don't need the state salary). By not declaring those per diems, Mr. Rasmussen is in effect getting more from the state than he should.
Secondly, in certain circumstances, those per diems are taxable. So, again, by not declaring them, Mr. Rasmussen is not paying the requisite amount of tax.
Possibly cheating the state and possibly not paying taxes are bad things for any Danish politician to do. Which brings me to the third reason. Mr. Rasmussen is single-handedly undermining his own credibility as a once-and-future Prime Minister, and harming all of the right-wing opposition parties, for whom a great part of their electability is their supposedly strong economic and financial management. It's not a pretty sight.
Walter Blotscher
Tuesday, 5 November 2013
SICK WORKERS
Denmark already has some of the most generous work and holiday arrangements in the world. The working week is 37 hours, and is rigidly enforced (in the sense that overtime is either very expensive for an employer, or people get time off in lieu). And most people get 30 days holiday a year in addition to public holidays.
However, holidays are not the only time when an employer doesn't see his or her employees, that also happens when they are sick. Which happens quite a lot. The average private sector employee had almost 7 full days off through sickness in 2011; in the public sector it was just over 12. In "caring" functions, such as hospitals and old people's homes, it is even higher, at more than 15 days. Put that all together, and an old people's home can expect its staff to be completely away for almost three months of the year on average, or a quarter of the time.
Such loss of time puts a huge premium on efficiency; which in turn relies a lot on education and training. In the past, that has been Denmark's great strength, and the challenge for the future will be in maintaining a highly qualified workforce. Unfortunately, looking at the next generation, I am not convinced that they have what it takes to continue a high wage, high welfare society. That rigid 37-hour week is going to come under pressure, in my view.
Walter Blotscher
Denmark already has some of the most generous work and holiday arrangements in the world. The working week is 37 hours, and is rigidly enforced (in the sense that overtime is either very expensive for an employer, or people get time off in lieu). And most people get 30 days holiday a year in addition to public holidays.
However, holidays are not the only time when an employer doesn't see his or her employees, that also happens when they are sick. Which happens quite a lot. The average private sector employee had almost 7 full days off through sickness in 2011; in the public sector it was just over 12. In "caring" functions, such as hospitals and old people's homes, it is even higher, at more than 15 days. Put that all together, and an old people's home can expect its staff to be completely away for almost three months of the year on average, or a quarter of the time.
Such loss of time puts a huge premium on efficiency; which in turn relies a lot on education and training. In the past, that has been Denmark's great strength, and the challenge for the future will be in maintaining a highly qualified workforce. Unfortunately, looking at the next generation, I am not convinced that they have what it takes to continue a high wage, high welfare society. That rigid 37-hour week is going to come under pressure, in my view.
Walter Blotscher
Sunday, 3 November 2013
LIBERACE
In an age when virtually everyone famous behaves outrageously, it is hard to remember just how outrageous Liberace once seemed. Back in the 1970's and 1980's he held court in Las Vegas, performing almost nightly in an odd mix of wondrous piano playing and high camp. Middle-aged women in particular loved him, and were more than prepared to suspend disbelief and take him at his word as an eternal bachelor instead of the promiscuous gay man that he really was. Public homosexuality was widely believed to be the kiss of death in the entertainment industry in those days, particularly in America, and Liberace always denied that he was gay, suing newspapers who suggested otherwise and constructing a complex network of female friends and associates to try and prove otherwise. It was only when he died of an Aids-related illness that the truth came out. Again, it is hard to remember that people felt they had to do that sort of thing only 30 years ago.
Between the 1950's and the 1970's he was the highest-paid entertainer in the world, and his Las Vegas shows towards the end brought him in around US$300,000 a week. Much of the money was spent on extravagantly kitsch homes and clothes, huge fur coats and a mansion with pianos in every room. The greater the kitsch, the more his public loved him.
This evening my wife and I saw the new Steven Soderbergh film Behind The Candelabra, which charts the long-term relationship between Liberace and his boyfriend Scott Thorson. It's a workmanlike film, rather than a great one. However, Michael Douglas is brilliant as Liberace; expect him to be nominated for the best actor award at next year's Oscars.
Walter Blotscher
In an age when virtually everyone famous behaves outrageously, it is hard to remember just how outrageous Liberace once seemed. Back in the 1970's and 1980's he held court in Las Vegas, performing almost nightly in an odd mix of wondrous piano playing and high camp. Middle-aged women in particular loved him, and were more than prepared to suspend disbelief and take him at his word as an eternal bachelor instead of the promiscuous gay man that he really was. Public homosexuality was widely believed to be the kiss of death in the entertainment industry in those days, particularly in America, and Liberace always denied that he was gay, suing newspapers who suggested otherwise and constructing a complex network of female friends and associates to try and prove otherwise. It was only when he died of an Aids-related illness that the truth came out. Again, it is hard to remember that people felt they had to do that sort of thing only 30 years ago.
Between the 1950's and the 1970's he was the highest-paid entertainer in the world, and his Las Vegas shows towards the end brought him in around US$300,000 a week. Much of the money was spent on extravagantly kitsch homes and clothes, huge fur coats and a mansion with pianos in every room. The greater the kitsch, the more his public loved him.
This evening my wife and I saw the new Steven Soderbergh film Behind The Candelabra, which charts the long-term relationship between Liberace and his boyfriend Scott Thorson. It's a workmanlike film, rather than a great one. However, Michael Douglas is brilliant as Liberace; expect him to be nominated for the best actor award at next year's Oscars.
Walter Blotscher
Saturday, 2 November 2013
OVERSAVING?
Denmark has been on a diet for the past five years. Nowhere more so than in the local authorities, who have been given orders by central government not to spend too much, while at the same time they have had to take on more duties.
Against that background, you would expect the kommuner to be short of money. Far from it, it turns out. They are currently sitting on a collective cash pile of almost Dkr.35 billion, which is more than the Dkr.30.7 billion they had at the end of 2008.
All organisations need to keep a reserve for liquidity purposes, but this is ridiculous. The kommune where I live has a reserve of Dkr.450 million, which is Dkr.11.000 (more than £1,200) for every citizen living here. Even that is is only the fifth biggest cash pile; Copenhagen has almost Dkr.16.000 per person in reserve.
Many people, and not just those of a left-wing persuasion, are questioning whether all this cash squirrelling is a good thing. At a time of both high unemployment and a need to repair and renovate roads and buildings, couldn't at least some of that cash be put to good purposes? Saving is one thing, oversaving is another.
Walter Blotscher
Denmark has been on a diet for the past five years. Nowhere more so than in the local authorities, who have been given orders by central government not to spend too much, while at the same time they have had to take on more duties.
Against that background, you would expect the kommuner to be short of money. Far from it, it turns out. They are currently sitting on a collective cash pile of almost Dkr.35 billion, which is more than the Dkr.30.7 billion they had at the end of 2008.
All organisations need to keep a reserve for liquidity purposes, but this is ridiculous. The kommune where I live has a reserve of Dkr.450 million, which is Dkr.11.000 (more than £1,200) for every citizen living here. Even that is is only the fifth biggest cash pile; Copenhagen has almost Dkr.16.000 per person in reserve.
Many people, and not just those of a left-wing persuasion, are questioning whether all this cash squirrelling is a good thing. At a time of both high unemployment and a need to repair and renovate roads and buildings, couldn't at least some of that cash be put to good purposes? Saving is one thing, oversaving is another.
Walter Blotscher
Friday, 1 November 2013
MOVEMBER
In recent years, a social movement has sprung up. In much the same way as sportsmen wear pink armbands in order to register their support for the fight against breast cancer, so in November they grow a moustache in order to register their support for the fight against prostate and testicular cancer.
One of my fellow teachers has a big, bushy beard and is keen on this. Having a full beard already, he raises money from the pupils by threatening to shave bits of it off in order to leave the most ridiculous combination (a privilege for which they pay, of course). He has also suborned all of the other male staff into either doing the same or growing a moustache during November. I have agreed.
Since I look a prat with a moustache, I too will grow a full beard, and then auction bits of it off. I started on Monday, and should be able to present something cut-able by the end of next week. Pictures promised.
Walter Blotscher
In recent years, a social movement has sprung up. In much the same way as sportsmen wear pink armbands in order to register their support for the fight against breast cancer, so in November they grow a moustache in order to register their support for the fight against prostate and testicular cancer.
One of my fellow teachers has a big, bushy beard and is keen on this. Having a full beard already, he raises money from the pupils by threatening to shave bits of it off in order to leave the most ridiculous combination (a privilege for which they pay, of course). He has also suborned all of the other male staff into either doing the same or growing a moustache during November. I have agreed.
Since I look a prat with a moustache, I too will grow a full beard, and then auction bits of it off. I started on Monday, and should be able to present something cut-able by the end of next week. Pictures promised.
Walter Blotscher
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