The Chattering Arses

I've been a relatively regular gig goer since I was about 15 years old. I've seen a range of musical artists over the years ranging from U2 to UK Subs, The Beach Boys to The Bellrays, The Offspring to Springsteen, Jeff Wayne's War of the World's to The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain. I've been to some amazing (and not so amazing) venues during that time, from The Royal Albert Hall to The Tunbridge Wells Forum (a converted public toilet). So I've seen a fairly wide range of musical genres and audience types down the years, I've been in the moshpit, up the back in the seats and on three occasions actually found myself on the stage (the least said about those experiences the better).

Music has been the staple of my life and going to live shows has always mean't so much to me, some of the best nights of my life have been spent at gigs. So it is with a sense of great sadness that I find myself almost completely fallen out of love with the experience now. Maybe it's my age, I'm a youngish 52 now, but the last couple of years I've spent an increasing amount of my time at gigs getting the complete arse with the people around me.

I first encountered this phenomenon at the cinema, another activity I always used to love, but something I barely do anymore for reasons I'll outline now. People chatting, people rustling plastic bags of sweets, people chewing like rabid horses on dustbin sized boxes of popcorn, people noisily gurgling through straws from a vat of sugary drink that only serves to make them even more hyperactive so that they can bang their legs that much harder on the back of my seat to the point where I suffer whiplash by the end of the film. Plus, of course, honourable mention must go to the people who can't resist the temptation to get their godforsaken mobile phone out to check whether they've missed something on social media in the 8 minutes since they last checked. I just can't do cinema anymore for these reasons, I'd rather wait for the film to come out on dvd or whatever and watch it at home where I can view it and scratch my arse in peace (or my wife's, if she asks me nicely). I know I'm sounding curmudgeonly here but I'm sure I can't be the only one who suffers this (in fact my 19 year old daughter agreed with me on this the other day which was a source of immense pride to me).

Now of course a cinema and a gig are very different environments. The former should be observed with pretty much silent attention, the latter can be a fairly raucous, noisy, collaborative and physical affair. So you would think the noise made by your fellow gig goers would be less of an issue at a concert venue. You think wrong. Over the last few years, regardless of the band I'm seeing, I've become increasingly frustrated by people who just can't shut the fuck up talking to each other throughout the performance. I'm not talking about people muttering the odd comment to each other between songs or singing enthusiastically, whooping at the singer's pre song ramblings (although that can often get on my tits) or even chatting from time to time with things like "I haven't heard this one in ages" or "is it me or is the sound shit?" or "I'm dying for a piss but I darent go to the bogs cos they're going to play the only song I know of theirs any minute". No, this is people who insist on chatting constantly throughout and so loudly that they're actually raising their voices to the level that they can hear each other over the sound of that irritating bunch of musicians on stage who they've paid money to go and see. Chances are these morons have spent a few hours in the pub beforehand chatting anyway so is it too much to ask to just curtail the mindless chit chat and listen to the band? Not to mention have a little consideration for the people around you whose enjoyment of the performance you are completely ruining.

The problem isn't quite so intolerable when the songs being played are loud and raucous numbers, the volume drowns the chat out to a large degree. Its when the more moody, slower, quieter songs are played, those best listened to with a degree of melancholic reverence, the sound of meaningless drivel being shouted from one mouth into another's earhole two feet away from you is not only completely distracting and rage inducing, but also completely ruins the enjoyment of the song. Why in God's name would you do that?

I wondered for a while if it was just a London thing as most the gigs I go to are in that city. Us southerners are viewed by many in the UK as a fairly unsociable bunch and given my general experiences of people in other parts of the country I'd say that's not far off the mark. But I've had similar issues at gigs elsewhere, Brighton to name but one. So maybe that's a red herring.

Your viewing location at the venue doesn't seem to be a factor in this either. It's happened when I've been down the front, at the back or at the side. So it's clearly a 'human condition' thing. They just can't help themselves.

Now I'm a pretty tolerant chap (certainly more than I was as a youngster) but I have a tolerance threshold for this kind of thing and sadly this threshold has been breached more than I would have liked of late. What's equally annoying is the attitude of these people when you ask them (always politely, at first at least) if they could possibly curtail their chattering and perhaps listen to the band. It's usually an indignant grunt and sometimes it's aggressive confrontation. Hardly ever an apology. I guess if you're ignorant enough to behave this way to start with then you're not going to understand or like it when someone points it out to you. If nothing else, it's disrespectful to the band who are up on stage slogging their nuts out for your entertainment. Of course, I then spend the rest of the gig somewhat on edge just waiting for the twats to have consumed enough additional alcohol to kick off with me. Thus, regardless of whether they shut up or not, the rest of my evening has thereby been ruined somewhat. The joy of the occasion  is sapped from my soul and I'm usually left quietly raging inside and ready to smack the first one to utter a word from that point on. Irrational on my part really but that's how it invariably leaves me feeling.

I went to a gig a number of years ago, a solo gig by Justin Sullivan, the lead singer of my favourite band, New Model Army. I can't recall the venue, I think it may have been The Water Rats in London (I could be mistaken). Being a solo gig with a couple of his muckers on other instruments it's a mainly acoustic type set therefore the music is of a more relaxed and quiet nature than the full band performances. Of course, there were some people chatting loudly to each other through some of the songs and it got to the point where Justin simply stopped mid song and asked them whether he should just not bother anymore, or they shut up! Marvellous. They sensibly opted for the latter.

Now I do understand that when you're part of a large crowd of people, human nature dictates there's always going to be people who irritate you. But it seems to have got worse of late and the last two gigs I went to were the last straw for me. The first, at Hammersmith Odeon, where two girls sat in front of us spent the ENTIRE night on their mobile phones posting to Facebook and intermittently holding said phones up in the air to take endless mind numbingly tedious selfies of themselves. In addition a near fight broke out when a gobby female then refused to move from the aisle she was stood dancing in (health and safety guv) and security moved in (politely at first) and the whole thing escalated.

The second gig was this week at the Albert Hall. To my immediate left, two blokes constantly talking loudly throughout the performance, only shutting up when I politely pointed out the band were on stage, the show had begun and I'd quite like to hear that and not their pointless dialogue. The two blokes in front of them then proceeded to do the same and the two in front of us and to the right had a phone in the air, live streaming the entire show to god knows who. The guy in front of me asked them to stop it as it was so distracting but they flat out refused and he spent the rest of the night clearly angry at the situation. So his night was ruined too. It got to the point I just gave up and just concentrated on staying calm.

I'm not laying the blame at the younger generation either, I've had issues with younger people and people around my age too. I just can't put my finger on what's changed over the years, why this seems to be happening increasingly of late. Perhaps people's attitudes to watching live bands has changed as our minds have become so used to being distracted by the instant, throwaway media content that is constantly available to us to digest, our attention spans have diminished, our appreciation of talented performance has been diluted. I dunno. Maybe I'm just a miserable old git.

I have tickets to see my beloved NMA in December, it'll be fitting if that's the last gig I go to. I'm probably being overly dramatic about this but that's how I feel at the moment. I just can't be doing with it anymore. I'd love to know what other people think and whether they've had similar experiences, I can't believe it's just me. So feel free to comment either way, I'm genuinely curious.

The End

Sadly she finally fell short of the telegram from the Queen.

It came quickly, painlessly, peacefully. Mum passed away on Sunday 19th August after struggling with her cancer for only a couple of months.

It was a shock, naturally, as we were guided down a particular chemotherapy route on the understanding it could give her a prolonged life expectancy, but as it turned out, that wasn't to be. We weren't prepared for that at all. Part of me thinks, despite the unbelievable courage she showed, at age 94, going through this, it just got to the stage where her body just couldn't take any more. The bucketloads of tablets and pain relief, the multiple weekly hospital visits. It is probably a blessed relief to her that this is over now, difficult as that is to reconcile in my mind.

I've experienced grief and the loss of a parent before, my Dad passed away in 1995. It's horrible and it never really goes away, just dissipates until photos are glimpsed or pertinent anniversary dates are reached. Then it floods back like a wave.

My emotions are still a bit raw at the moment, funeral arrangements and paperwork are being dealt with and I imagine once that's all over with the grief will set in. I know you have to remember the happy times, celebrate their life rather than mourn their death but it's easier said than done. I guess in this case my Mum lived 94 happy years whereas my Dad was taken way too soon at 69 years old. Some consolation I guess. Both of them were taken without overly protracted suffering so that's another.

The grief is in the post. For now, I'm thankful for having had the most amazing, loving parents a son could ever have wished for.

Changes

So, a lot has happened since my last post. Mum ended up being in hospital for ten days due to her low sodium level. She was discharged on 17 July but that ten days was an absolute rollercoaster.

The effects of her low sodium were frailty and difficulty in moving about plus, more alarmingly, a reduction in her cognitive function. This was tough to deal with and I touched on this in my previous post.

The time she spent in hospital was a tough experience for both her and us. A lot of the time she didn't really know what was going on around her and it was like hell on earth in there at times. Without wanting to sound horrible, she was surrounded by very old, very ill old ladies and this probably didn't do her mental state much good either. She couldn't sleep at night because of other patients wailing and screaming through the night and some wandering around the ward in a state of confusion. At times she started hallucinating that it was her doing the wailing (even while I was sat at her bedside).

For a lot of the time she was literally sat all day doing nothing until visiting time about 3pm. They fitted her with an adult nappy so she didn't even have to think about going to the toilet. This only served to worsen her mental state really. At times I felt anger about the situation but I don't blame the NHS staff I appreciate these poor people are operating in an environment with ever increasing workloads and ever decreasing staffing levels. They simply don't have the time to care for each patient individually 24/7. I left that hospital in tears on more than one occasion. There were days when I just couldn't see Mum ever coming out of there again.

But, mercifully, her sodium level finally crept up after endless Sodium Chloride drips and tablets and her mobility and cognition returned to something resembling normal. There's a saying about people who stay in hospital for long periods becoming 'institutionalised' and we had that fear for Mum. She got to the point where she would constantly need to be told what she had to do next and every time I left her at the end of visiting time she would be fretting about what she would do after I'd gone. Once her cognition had improved we would leave her with little lists of things to do, just small things like walking up and down the ward, doing 'stand up/sit down' exercises, a crossword, writing stuff down etc, just little things that would occupy her without having to ask someone all the time or worry about it.

Anyway, she's out of hospital now, but sadly, unable to live by herself anymore. She lived at home independently with no problem for 23 years after my Dad passed away but unfortunately she's currently not mobile or strong enough to do that. Plus with her chemo regime she has to visit hospital twice a week and needs reliable transport.

So, changes afoot, myself and one of my brothers will now be her full time carers, split between us, she'll live with me at my house in Kent for 2 weeks (which, geographically isn't ideal given her hospital is in East London) then 2 weeks at her own house with my brother and so on.

During the 2 weeks with me I'll be unable to work so this is a big change in my life situation and it's a bit daunting but it's a situation we don't really have a lot of choice in. My brother lives in Devon and will travel up to Mum's for his 'stints' every two weeks so, whilst he's retired and doesn't have a work situation to consider, it's still a big change for him too.

The saying about being afraid of change has never felt so relevant as it does to me at present but life has a habit of throwing curve balls at you from time to time. Hopefully we can bat this one out of the park but at the moment we're at the plate awaiting the first pitch (apologies for the corny analogy!).

New situations, new routines. Time will tell.

Day 1

I'm sat in an empty hospital cubicle waiting for my Mum to come back from the X-ray department. I have some time to kill and no Internet or phone signal so thought I'd write something.

Today was our first visit for her chemotherapy treatment. It's a simple injection and a few tablets and that should be it, however, 6½ hours later and we're still here! There was a 2 hour wait for the pharmacy to send her pills over to the chemo unit and then, following a review of her blood tests from a few days ago, they discovered her sodium levels were way lower than they should be. This subsequently meant she had to be transferred to the Major Treatment unit in A&E whereby she had further bloods taken, an ECG, hooked up to a sodium chloride drip and now is having X-Ray's taken. She will be kept in overnight for monitoring and possibly further blood tests tomorrow morning. As a result of all this, one of the chemo elements of her treatment couldn't be administered today so that will start next week on her 2nd visit.

So, what was expected to be a 2 hour visit is looking like it'll be a 24 hour visit. Not an ideal first chemo week!

Couple all this with the fact she also has to visit the dentist next Tuesday for a tooth extraction (after she's been back to hospital in the morning of course for some more routine tests), before then resuming week 2 of her chemo next Thursday, I just can't imagine what's going through her mind at the moment. I repeat, she's 94 (I have to keep reminding myself of this).

Speaking of her mind, the low sodium thing is a new one on me. The suspected cause is dehydration (although a number of things can be at the root of it) because she doesn't drink anywhere near enough fluids, despite our badgering her to do so. As a result of this condition, a loss of cognition can result and this solves a mystery for us because literally the day after I wrote my last blog where I banged on about how fit and on the ball she was for a 94 year old, she completely changed, almost overnight. Her mood had darkened (not in a sinister way, more a negative outlook way), her memory and awareness of what was happening around her started to fail her periodically and she became so very frail. Both of these could be attributed to the Myeloma but the doctors told us today that, certainly the cognitive issues, were most likely a result of the low sodium.

Quite alarming I must say. Having had a Mum who, all her life, has been fit and very sharp mentally up to age 94, barely been near a hospital (besides visits to give birth on 3 occasions) to suddenly encounter a lady who could no longer fend for herself and barely know which day of the week it was, is extremely upsetting and very difficult to deal with all of a sudden.

So, fingers crossed, the sodium transfusion will improve that, albeit whilst the chemo kicks in and simultaneously makes her feel poorly in different ways! All the fun of the fayre eh?!

I have moments of frustration with this, not aimed at my Mum, just at the situation because I hate not being able to fix things. I'm powerless to mend it and that's really tough to handle. I have a newfound appreciation of carers, my god what a tough job these people have and they probably deal with way more difficult people and conditions than my Mum and her sudden affliction (which I'm hoping will prove only temporary anyway). That all sounds a bit horrible but I mean it in the nicest way. It's not like we're having to bed bath Mum or anything, but having to more or less watch over someone and help them most of the time, all day every day, is both physically and mentally tiring. I don't begrudge it one little bit, I can't do enough for the woman who has done so much for me all my life and never asked for anything in return. It's just a shock to the system when it all comes about so suddenly. Three months ago, we were blissfully unaware of her diagnosis and were trecking around the Isle of Wight with her, climbing castles and walking along beach promenades, visiting old haunts we'd holidayed at when I was a small child.

It's all very sad but I guess such things come to us all eventually. I just hope when it comes to me, it comes quick and is over quicker.

It's now half an hour since Mum went to X-Ray, it's 9pm,i have no idea when she'll finally get back and then be allocated a bed for the night on a ward. I haven't eaten since about 1pm and I was up at 4am to go up to London to squeeze 4 hours of work in to earn some money before returning to Kent (where Mum is currently living with us) to then take her over to East London to hospital for her 2pm appointment. It's been a bit of a day, this Day 1!

But hey, it could be worse. I could be 94 and having chemotherapy for Multiple Myeloma. So wind your neck in sunshine and crack on!

Peace x

Perspective

I debated a fair bit with myself over the point of this posting, it's a tough thing to put onto paper and something I'd hoped would never be necessary. I ended up doing it because I sometimes find that writing stuff down helps my mind deal with stuff. I talk to my nearest and dearest obviously but I'm not always good at getting my emotions out. Those that know me well enough know I can let my emotions get the better of me sometimes and cloud my judgement. I think writing stuff down helps you speak with a more measured mind and helps me unload it all. Anyway that's enough of that.

I had a long weekend in Cornwall last week and it was an idyllic four days, spent in the wonderful Cornish countryside with my lovely Cornish wife and some great friends. Away from the madness of working on the roads of London and the general hubbub and stresses of daily life, it was a real soul cleanser and allowed me a brief relaxation of mind and body.

That temporary respite was somewhat dented on my return when a high court judge ruled in favour of my beloved Uber, allowing them to continue making life a misery for us London cabbies (see my previous postings on this issue). Highs and lows eh.

As a certain Forrest Gump once said, life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get (or words to that effect). Although I tend to favour a bag of maltesers so I tend to know exactly what I'm going to get, but you take my point.

I'm generally a happy chap and am content with my lot in life, I've had my share of difficulties, haven't we all. It's a bit of a struggle financially and I stress about it from time to time but I've learned to keep a sense of perspective and that whole mantra of there being a lot of people worse off than yourself helps me to get to grips with things. Mostly. Career wise, I've made some odd choices and it hasn't always gone to plan but again, it could be worse and as long as I can pay the bills I'm happy enough. As I've got older I've become less obsessed with material belongings (cars, holidays etc) and, asset wise, I own pretty much nothing (apart from a pension). I'd be worth a fair amount if I was 6 feet under!

All of this sense of perspective has been brought into sharp focus in the last week or so when, after a series of tests and hospital visits, my 94 year old, fit as a 50 year old Mum, was diagnosed with cancer. To be precise, it is Myeloma which is a cancer of the bone marrow. It's not curable but it is treatable with chemotherapy and normally a person of my Mum's age would not be offered such treatment given how relatively healthy you need to be to withstand the treatment to start with plus the impact the side effects can have on one's health. However my Mum is no ordinary 94 year old, the consultant said in his entire career he'd never encountered anyone of her age in such a good state of physical health (she was still going to Keep Fit once a week up until about a month ago). As such they are able to offer her a couple of treatment options, both involving chemotherapy. One of these options is more aggressive than the other but is more effective in terms of reducing the cancer and, given the level of cancer she has, will probably offer a better longer term outcome (not sure what "long term" means for someone her age, but I'd rather not think of that at this stage to be honest).

So, despite her understandable indecision in the face of a mountain of information and no actual information on prognosis (outcomes are very much different from one person to the next in such instances), my Mum very bravely decided to go for the most aggressive option, in the knowledge of the probable side effects this will entail. I'm bordering on tears just thinking of the look on her face when the doctor ran through the possible/probable side effects during our consultation and to think that despite all that she found the strength in her tiny body and her fragile state of mind to go down this road is just simply awesome. I'm not sure I could do that, I suspect I'd just throw in the towel. But she's from a different generation to me, a generation that lived through a World War, left school at a young age to go out to work for pennies and had to fight and scrap for every morsel put on the dinner table. This is a woman who lost a finger working in a munitions factory during WW2 and was blown across a room in an office in Reading from a German bomber unloading his unused payload on return to his Motherland after a bombing raid on this country. So a bit of cancer isn't going to beat her resolve. It certainly puts my daily gripes into perspective.

So the next year to 18 months will be spent on weekly hospital visits for her treatment. I really can't get my head around how my Mum will cope with this but she understands, as do all of us in the family, that this treatment is necessary to try and relieve her of the ill that is going on in her body. I'm close to tears a fair bit of the time thinking about it, as I imagine both my brothers probably are, but this is a time to remember it's her that has to go through all this treatment, not me.

About 18 months ago my dear sister in law was diagnosed with the same condition and has spent the last year or so undergoing similar treatment as my Mum faces now. The treatment she had was of an even stronger nature, something afforded to someone of a much younger age than Mum. She is now in remission but, due to the nature of her treatment (she was part of a trial of a new kind of programme), she still faces weekly hospital visits for chemotherapy. I've seen how she's suffered but has been so brave in facing it all down. It's quite inspiring and whilst it's been horrendous for her and my brother, I hope my Mum can draw some inspiration from it too.

Many people have been touched by this awful illness in their families. Up until 18 months ago when my sister in law was diagnosed I'd been fortunate enough not to have been similarly touched in my immediate family. Now two of my closest loved ones are fighting it. I can't even imagine how my brother is feeling right now having gone through what he has with his wife and now faces similar with his Mum. But he's a tough old nut, he doesn't give much away.

Anyway, I decided to go ahead and write about this, for my own benefit really as much as anything else and I hope to post updates on her journey on here. I'm convinced it'll be a story with a happy ending.

So if anyone at Buckingham Palace is reading this, keep that ink pot topped up and the telegram machine stocked with paper.

Mum starts her treatment next week.

At Risk Of Repeating Myself...

I wrote something along these lines a couple of years back and now here I am again with a distinct sense of deja vu, albeit under slightly different circumstances.

Last week Transport For London (TFL) announced it would deny the renewal of Ubers licence to continue its minicab operation in London from the end of September, on various fit and proper operator grounds. Of course Uber will attempt to overturn this via appeal but for now it's caused all manner of consternation among the Uberati in the city and beyond.

I'm not here to argue with those people, after all, as a Licensed London Taxi driver (aka 'black cab driver' when it comes to this debate) I'd be dismissed as biased anyway. Which I am obviously, however, I have bitten my lip and kept well out of any spats on social media, where the battle of opinion on the matter seems to be taking place, in the main.

However, as usual in such instances, I see SO MANY ill informed and plain inaccurate comments being made about my industry all over the place that I just have to put some facts straight or at the very least, inform people of a few things to at least educate them to some extent. I don't expect for a minute it will change their outlook on the situation but it will make me feel better anyway and at least every time I see uneducated comment I can direct them to this.

So, I'm addressing the main points that it seems people have the most to shout about in this debate and hopefully this helps to put some context out there. This isn't biased ranting, anecdotal opinion or political spin, it's just plain facts, so please sit comfortably and digest.

1. "The Knowledge is outdated and isn't required now we have Satnav"

'The Knowledge', for those unfamiliar with the term, in a nutshell, is the qualification process that London cabbies embark on to attain their green badge (license). It involves learning all the streets and points of interest (POI) in London in order to pass a series of rigorous examinations to test your knowledge of these roads and points as well as your mental route planning ability around the city. It can take anywhere between 3-5 years to pass, depending on how well you perform in the regular exams.

Now, I get it, Satnav has come a long way and, yes, it can get you from A to B in the majority of cases. It won't always take you the best way, particularly in Londons congested labyrinthine road network and it doesn't have the intuition that a human brain with local knowledge has, but I accept for many situations it is fine. Having said that, it's not ideal having what is supposed to be a professional driver solely reliant on following a satnav, with all the distractions that entails.

However, the Knowledge is not just a test of your road, routing and POI knowledge, it is also a massive test of character. Who would invest so much time, effort and sacrifice to qualify as a professional in their field, only to throw away that livelihood at the drop of a hat via criminal activity. It's as good as a CRB check in my opinion. It sorts the wheat from the chaff, as it were. It verifies the dedication of a person and instills a sense of pride and respect in that person for their trade. What's wrong with that? Is having well qualified individuals who clearly care passionately about a trade a bad thing? Don't we want people to strive to be the best they can be in their chosen profession? I don't see a clamour for expensive lawyers, dentists etc to be replaced by some bloke armed with a YouTube video who will do the job for half the price. Not a perfect analogy I know but you get my point.

I wonder how many folk who demean the Knowledge as outdated and unnecessary got themselves degrees at University? I imagine if they did they feel a sense of self worth as a result, why should my qualification be any different? It took as much (perhaps even more) dedication, sacrifice and commitment.

2. "Black Cabs are afraid of Innovation and need to move with the times"

The London Taxi trade is one of the oldest  professions in London. It goes back to Oliver Cromwell. So you could be excused for thinking we are old fashioned luddites. However, our trade has embraced technology for decades. We innovated with radio circuits and now we have Apps for booking. In fact we had apps long before Uber arrived. We still do, namely Taxiapp, Mytaxi, CabApp and Gett (formerly GetTaxi). The problem is they haven't been advertised to the extent uber has and to understand why you need to understand the two models. Uber is a multi billion $ corporation and the London Taxi trade is 25000 sole traders with no financial business organism or marketing machine to promote our offering. So despite having an identical offering to Uber, not enough people knew/know about it. Our apps offer both pre book and instant bookings as well as fixed prices in many cases (for those of you terrified of the nasty old meter).

3. "Black cabs are just afraid of Competition"

No, this issue has nothing to do with competition. After all we operate in an arena where competition is rife and has been for years. We compete with private hire companies, buses, tube, rail, coaches, in fact every cab driver on the road is competition as far as I'm concerned! Of course any business is a little afraid of a competitor that may affect your ability to put food on the family table. Anyone who says otherwise is probably fibbing I would say. But when an entrant to your industry comes and threatens your livelihood on an unfair basis (and it's not just taxis saying that but the existing established legitimate PH industry who have been decimated by uber), how would you feel? So this is about level playing fields, not competition and this is discussed further on.

4. "but uber are so much cheaper than black cabs"

Does the term 'Predatory pricing' mean anything to you? Last time I looked this was illegal under competition law (look up the definition, it's where a company uses artificially reduced prices to undercut and drive the competition out of business). It's great you're all getting around town for peanuts (at the moment) but there's a wider picture here. You claim black cabs have a monopoly (more on that later) but what on earth do you think ubers raison d'etre is? Their model is to use predatory pricing to drive out competition!! Sounds like monopolist thinking to me. It's the reason Italy kicked them out and I'm surprised that more wasn't made of this aspect of their operation in London to be honest. Did you know that the fare you pay uber is around 41% of the true cost of that ride? The remainder is subsidised by venture capital investment. What do you think will happen when that runs out and/or the competition no longer exists? In what version of reality do you think this pricing is sustainable? Uber continues to lose a ton of money by operating this model, it stands to reason they're going to need to recoup this at some point, right?

5. "Black cabs are a rip off"

Well let's start off by saying that I, the cab driver, do not set my fares (as explained previously). Uber are cheaper (also for reasons explained above) I get that totally (although in many instances a black cab is actually not particularly expensive compared to some alternatives where multiple passengers are taken into account). But I'd love to offer a cheaper service if I could. When you look at the meter you think "thats expensive" but have you any idea of our costs? For the average cabbie, around 40% of that meter price goes on expenses (cab finance/rental, insurance, tax, diesel, breakdown cover, repairs, 2 MOTs per year etc), then factor in income tax, pension (I'm self employed) and the fact I'm not paid for time off or sickness (for which I also pay for expensive income protection cover in the event of serious illness), then my 'take' reduces much further. So this urban myth that cabbies are raking it in because of what you see on the meter simply isn't accurate, there's a wider picture you need to consider. We make a living but it's hard earned.

With regards to choice/price of cab (our vehicle choice is limited to two very expensive models, around £40k in price) we have NO SAY in these costs and the meter tariff is set by TFL, NOT US (a tariff that I would add is set based on costs, RPI etc and DOES NOT involve 'surging' at the drop of a hat). From 2018, thanks to the demonisation of diesel vehicles, all new cabs sold have to be 'zero emission capable' (electric or hybrid), and the only model announced thus far, taking into account finance, will cost around £70k! How on earth can the average cab driver afford that??

One last point on taxi fares, if the meter price bothers you, many of the taxi apps such as Gett and Mytaxi offer fixed price rides in certain circumstances.

6. "Black cabs are bullying Londoners and want to protect their monopoly"

This monopoly argument is so funny and I hear it time and again. As I touched on earlier WE DO NOT HAVE A MONOPOLY. We operate, and have done for decades, in an arena with minicabs, buses, tubes, trains, coaches, rickshaws, bikes, in fact every cabbie is my competitor to some extent. If that's your definition of a monopoly I suggest you advance directly to your dictionary without collecting £200 for passing Go. Furthermore, there is nothing stopping anyone from entering our trade, it is open to all who wish to put in the hard work to achieve a licence. If you haven't got the stuff to do it, fair enough, but please, ENOUGH with the monopoly nonsense. If you want to talk monopolies, as I said previously, look at the Uber model with regard to their predatory pricing strategy, it is the very definition of creating a monopoly!

As for the claim that cabbies are being 'bullies', if your ability to put food on your family table was threatened illegally, I'd think less of you if you didn't fight to protect it. As long as that fight was within the law then what's wrong with having a bit of stomach eh? Should we just roll over, forget the graft and sacrifice we put in to attaining our qualification and let Uber tickle our bellies? That's not bullying, it's standing up to BEING bullied if anything.

7. "Uber losing its licence will put 40k employees out of work"

Uber have moved heaven and earth in the courts to dispute the fact their drivers are employees in order to avoid offering them basic workers rights (I'm not necessarily saying they should either, there's a valid argument on both sides on this). It's hypocrisy of the highest order that they now use this concern for their drivers now it suits them. What will happen to this concern when/if Uber finally roll out their proposed fleets of autonomous vehicles? Enough said.

There will still be demand in the marketplace to fill the vacuum that uber leaves behind so don't worry, those drivers will find work with legitimate PH companies. They're self employed after all, right?

Oh and remind me again, where was the outcry and petition to sign when the livelihoods of 25k taxi drivers was (and still is to be honest) under threat from a tax avoiding US multi billion dollar corporation? Where was the moral outrage about the multiple sexual assault cases on women attributed to Uber drivers when it was on the front page of the national papers? I must have missed those.

8. "Black cabs are  expensive because they get stuck in traffic"

Let's have a look at that eh. There has been an explosion in minicab vehicle numbers in London as a result of Ubers arrival and promises of riches to its drivers, which has even seen passengers switching to them from public transport. In 2009 there were 58k minicabs licensed in London, at last count there were almost 120k. In that same time the number of black cabs has remained virtually static at 24.5k. So is it any wonder it's becoming harder to negotiate roads with this level of unsustainable vehicular increase and the resulting added congestion.

Poor driving standards among a large number of these relatively inexperienced drivers and the resulting increase in RTAs has gone through the roof. But don't take my word for it, ask Inspector Neil Billany (head of the Metropolitan Police taxi and private hire unit) who spoke about this issue when he wrote to TFL about Ubers failures in reporting sexual assaults.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/08/13/uber-sex-scandal-police-accuse-taxi-firm-failing-report-sex

He raised his concern about the additional strain on his resources in attending these traffic incidents, resources that are paid for by our taxes ironically (considering uber contribute nothing in this respect).

9. "I've used uber and never had a problem, I feel safe, I can track the vehicle etc etc"

That's as maybe, but there have been 32 cases of sexual assault/rape in Uber vehicles investigated by police in a 12 month period. That's one every 11 days! In what other industry/business does that happen and not cause some kind of public outrage? Am I missing something here? Yes, I know about John Warboys, the appalling rapist who committed his crimes in a London taxi and is now rightfully in jail. People cite this case against the London taxi trade because that's the only one you can think of and it was widely reported because it is such a rare occurrence. But THIRTY TWO cases of sexual assault/rape in a single year? How many others went unreported I wonder, given the issues raised by Inspector Neil Billany

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/08/13/uber-sex-scandal-police-accuse-taxi-firm-failing-report-sex

This surely raises questions about the vetting process and comes back to my argument about the value of The Knowledge qualification as a deterrent to opportunist, would-be sex offenders jumping in a taxi after filling in a form and handing over a cheque.

So there it is, thanks for sticking with it and I hope that's been helpful. It's written from a viewpoint of someone who has pride in and cares greatly about their trade, not just the fact it's my livelihood at stake. I've tried to stick to pure facts and not just ranting about the situation. I'm not for one minute trying to paint every London cabbie as an angel, I know there are bad apples and I'm sure some of you, particularly uber users, have experienced one at some point. But that's human nature, every trade/industry has the same, we're no different. But the overwhelming majority of us are committed to and care deeply about our profession in the same way nurses, policemen, firemen, teachers do and, like those boys and girls, we can become unpopular when we voice our concerns and frustrations. We just want a fair shake.

Finally, if you haven't had enough, here's another well written piece on this subject by someone who isn't a cab driver...

http://www.stylist.co.uk/life/uber-license-revoked-tfl-reaction-morals-rape-sexual-assault-conscience

Be lucky x

And Justice For All...

... as the Metallica song goes. Which is ironic as their music plays throughout the film about which I write here. I'm rarely compelled to write about something I see on TV but this is one such occasion.

The West Memphis 3. Heard of them? I hadn't.

Sometimes you watch something on TV or read a story of an apparent injustice and it really affects you, even long after its finished.

If you've seen 'Making a Murderer' you'll know what I mean. That story was quite shocking, but this one surpasses even that in my opinion, particularly given the terrible outcome of the whole thing. I can't believe the story of the West Memphis 3 passed me by given how the whole thing developed and how much I always liked a good murder case (not in an inappropriate way, of course!). I must have been oblivious to world events in the early 90's. I'll avoid going into too much detail about the case because if you haven't seen the documentaries or have no knowledge of the ensuing events, I wouldn't want to spoil it for you. It's truly incredible and for anyone still advocating the death sentence, this will challenge you.

The story is told in a documentary trilogy called Paradise Lost. It's not that easy to come by but it's on YouTube and also on some streaming sites but believe me IT IS WELL WORTH THE EFFORT. Of course, if you're not a skinflint like me, you can buy the whole thing on dvd on Amazon or suchlike. Depending on where you source it you may also have to put up with Spanish subtitles as it seems only uploads from Spanish speaking sources haven't been blocked (on YouTube at least).

It's the most upsetting (reduced me to tears more than once), shocking, bizarre, farcical and ultimately, depressing piece of TV I think I've ever watched. Like Making a Murderer, you have to keep reminding yourself this is actually real and actually happened. However, it is compulsive viewing.

To point you in the right direction I've posted YouTube links to the 3 parts of the documentary below. Parts 2 and 3 have Spanish subtitles (as mentioned above), but they don't get in the way. You can get these on streaming sites too without the subtitles if you care to search them out. However you watch it, be warned, there is very graphic and upsetting content from the off, it's not for the faint hearted...

Part 1 https://youtu.be/uEp9pWNxAl0
Part 2 https://youtu.be/tmrOVD6aSpI
Part 3 https://youtu.be/yubLZYCm8s8

There's also a documentary on Netflix called West of Memphis which also tells the story but nowhere near the detail so you don't get the full picture, timeline or background to appreciate the full extent of the case.

Lastly, I'd also say there's always two sides to every story and, like the Making a Murderer film, this one has received criticism for being too one sided. I'm looking at the other side of the coin as we speak, there's a whole raft of discussion and detail about this case online. However, regardless of who was right and who wasn't (and we'll probably never truly know the answer to that), this was a tragic mess of the first order.

Once you've seen it (or if you've already seen it) I'd love to know your thoughts so please leave some comment. 

The American justice system. The gift that keeps on giving..

The Blair in the Square

All this talk of Tony Blair today brings to mind a true story told to me by an old cabbie mate of mine, who shall remain nameless, some years ago.

He stopped for a couple of lads who hailed him (somewhere in Islington if I remember correctly, not that it's relevant) and as they jumped in the back a woman appeared from a doorway and got in with them, seating herself on the tip seat, back to the driver.

"Where you off to?" he asked them, and one of the lads told him they wanted to go to Connaught Square, which is near Marble Arch. Most London cabbies know that this is the location of the home (one of them at least) of Tony Blair.

Without a thought entering his mind he then asked, jokingly

"you don't live near that **** Tony Blair do you?" (his EXACT words)

He chuckled as he asked this and the lads laughed it off and not another word was uttered the entire journey.

When he arrived at Connaught Square he asked which house they wanted dropping at and as he turned his head, Cherie Blair turned her head from the tip seat to face him and answered

"the one over there with the armed guard at the door"

Needless to say no further words were exchanged and no gratuity was forthcoming...

The Message ain't getting through...

I picked a woman up tonight who uses both Taxis and the Yank disruptors (Uber). She prefers us though. She works in PR and specifically lobbying. We had a long conversation about the "uber/TFL thing" and I gave her all the facts, ie the legal reasons they should never have been granted an operators license in London by TFL, the tax credit drivers, the non tax paying company, the inadequate driver insurance provision, the 650 licenses issued per week by TFL, the increasing rash of car crashes involving their drivers etc etc etc, the list went on.

By the end of my monologue she took a deep intake of breath and said 'Wow'.

Her answer to my points was as follows. "Why haven't I heard this before? Why isn't this in the national press? It's a compelling and well argued viewpoint. I think you've been badly let down by your trade organisations to be honest"  (her words not mine).

She said you don't need demos and blockades that piss your potential customers off (and give free advertising to 'the opposition') , you need better/proper PR and lobbying (she wasn't touting for business may I add). I tend to agree on that to some extent. But I also rather suspect it's too late for that now anyway (however, more on that later). Anyway, whether you agree with her or not, PR is her business and she's good at it, plus she's a member of the travelling public, so shouldn't we take notice?

The problem is as it always has been, that, no disrespect, the London taxi trade is run/represented by cab drivers (or former cab drivers). As noble as many of these people are I'm not sure they possess the commercial savvy and dynamism that you need to formulate effective strategies in today's cut throat commercial world. And why should they? I know I don't. But the difference is I recognise it. Our trade orgs need to do the same otherwise they'll continue to fight losing battles.

I'm probably going to upset some people when I say this but I was somewhat disappointed by the recent 'PR offensive' that saw a fair amount of money spent by well meaning people on adverts that say "always use a taxi" (I'm paraphrasing but that's effectively all it says). What's the first thing a non taxi using consumer seeing this ad is going to say?

"Why?"

Yet there is nothing extolling our virtues, no bullet list of benefits in using a London Taxi over the opposition. I appreciate space is limited but surely if you're handing thousands of £s to an ad agency this should be a minimum requirement? Particularly when we can't compete with the opposition on price, it's more important than ever in that instance to give people a reason to use us when marketing our product. Isn't it?  I'm no ad exec but I would have thought so.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the effort people have been going to here and it's not like I've done anything to push the cab trade myself, but this is just another example of us getting it wrong in my book. We lack the business savvy needed to take on the competition and no amount of blockades and "Londons finest" proclamations will change that in my opinion. It hasn't previously, let's face it, look where we're at now.

If the cab trade wants to get serious about taking on the opposition, for me, it has to do two things. Firstly it's trade organisations have to bat their heads together and unify as one single London Taxi Association, no more fragmentation. I appreciate this wouldn't be straight forward but it needs to happen in my opinion. This will give us way more clout and credibility. It will also provide a much bigger single pool of finance with which to address point 2. Point 2 being that we have to fight fire with fire, painful as it may be we have to sink some serious cash into targeted lobbying and marketing. Clever marketing. It needs to be coherent and most importantly it needs to be prolonged. Too many of our ad campaigns have been "come and go" affairs, too easily forgotten. In addition some have been frankly embarrassingly ill conceived.

I know it involves spending a lot of money but that is what is needed if we want to get our message to the public. Because they ain't getting it believe me. I have so many conversations with people who simply don't know the facts about our offering and our issues with TFL/uber and when they do they are enlightened. It ain't rocket science.

Anyway, that's that off my chest, I'm sorry if I've put any noses out of joint, it's only my opinion, it doesn't mean I'm right.

It was an enlightening conversation with that punter, opened my eyes to a few things. I took her business card if anyone is interested...

Every now and then...

Every now and then in this job something happens that restores your faith in humanity. That just happened, at about 11:15 on the 11th day of the 11th month.

I picked up 2 German customers from Paddington about 10:45 and en route I asked them how they felt about the observance of the 2 minute silence at 11am. I asked this because, if I'm working, my usual practice is to pull over and observe it properly. Obviously I've never had Germans on board before so I was trying to be as sensitive as I could about the situation. Far from feeling awkward they graciously agreed and I told them I'd discount the fare at the end of the journey.

So as we entered Theberton Street at 10:59 I pulled into Gibson Square (would you believe! Apologies to non cabbie readers, you won't understand the significance of this location and I won't bore you with it now) and we sat for 2 minutes in silence with our own thoughts.

After this we carried on to the destination, not a word more was exchanged.

At the end of the journey I asked for the discounted fare. They refused and paid the full amount. In addition to this one of them asked my name (at this point I couldn't help but hear Arthur Lowe screaming "don't tell him Pike!"... apologies for that). I told him my name and he said

"Alan, here is an extra £5, I would like you to donate this to the poppy charity for us"

I don't mind admitting I nearly cried.

I never got their names, but bless you my friends.

20 years ago today. Everything changed.

Ok so I'll start off by saying this will probably go on a bit and most of you (assuming anyone does indeed actually read this) won't even know the person who is the subject of this post, but this is kinda for my own benefit. I think the word is cathartic, right? It's a subject I've never poured out on before but I've found that writing stuff like this helps me in some strange way. 

20 years ago today my life changed forever; and as far as I'm concerned, I changed too. I got a phone call from my brother in the early hours of the morning to say my Dad had died of a heart attack. Although he'd had a heart attack a few years previously, this was at a time he was fit as a fiddle so it was pretty much out of the blue. He died in his sleep so at least he didn't suffer. He didn't deserve to suffer, he was a good man, the best, so the least we could be grateful for, despite him being taken from us so young at 69 years old, was that it was painless for him.

I don't believe in God so I don't know who to blame, but who/whatever is to blame, I hate it with a burning passion. Hate the fact that my Dad was taken from us so early. Hate the fact that despite him being such a loving, caring,  soft hearted man who never swore, never said a bad word about anyone, always put others before himself, I could go on, he was robbed from my life way too soon. I know I'll be told that I should cherish the happy memories from his life and that I shouldn't feel bitterness about it, I get that, I wish I could feel that way, but even 20 years later I'm still struggling with that thought process.

You see the problem is, I'm not blessed with a great memory. I forget what I've gone upstairs for before I get to the top of the stairs, I forget what I did 2 hours ago, I have to rely on my phone to remind me of all kinds of stuff that most intelligent humans manage themselves. Having said that I can remember 5th November 1995 as if it was 5 minutes ago. I fell to my knees when my brother broke the news to me on the phone that day. I won't repeat it here but I remember the exact words he spoke to me, I can actually hear him in my head as I write this, I remember my short reply and I remember feeling completely numb. And I remember just feeling like someone had smashed me to pieces with a hammer. The pieces eventually got put back together but I'm not entirely sure they were put back together in the same order they were in before.

I'm 50 years old next year and in terms of memories, I remember very little from childhood. I have snippets forever planted in my brain, goals I scored (my Dad was usually jumping up and down on the touchline at that point, except for the week he upped the goal reward he used to pay me to 50p and I scored a hat trick!), fights I had at school, the time I got nicked for retrieving tennis balls from the railway line, you know the kinda things that would stick in your mind, but I remember very little about every day life with my Dad. I just have a general glow of warmth in my mind about him when I think of him. Don't get me wrong, we fell out over stuff, he could drive you mad with his absent mindedness on occasion, so he wasn't perfect but he was a proper old school fella who would do anything for anyone. A dying breed frankly.

So with this memory gap in mind, it came as a pleasant surprise to me a little while back when my Mum produced a set of diaries that my dad had kept from 1987 to the very night before he passed away. A daily diary no less.

I remember him keeping a diary but I'd forgotten all about it until they appeared. My brother had kept them for a while but though he'd tried to read them a combination of Dad's handwriting and one thing or another had curtailed him from getting too far with them. So I took them off his hands and started at 1987.

It's fairly mundane stuff in the main, I mean he literally wrote about EVERYTHING he did each day in there! But I loved reading it because I could hear him saying the words in my head. I have photos of him and one old wedding video that he's in that I can no longer watch as I don't have a video machine, but for some reason having his actual words that he wrote on a page, with a pen, no matter how mundane, is so much better. 

As well as that, the diaries are also an amazing account of my life with him and others over an 8 year period, about which my mind was mostly blank about. Just boring stuff like me running him up to Sainsburys (more on that later), him helping me fix stuff on my succession of unreliable cars, me helping him shovel cow shit (manure, as he would obviously describe it in the diary!) into bag after bag in some godforsaken field in Essex for him to then cart home (in the back of my bloody car I might add!) to his allotment. As I say it's quite mundane to anyone else but to me it is precious. Because every new day/page I turn in that diary a new memory is brought to mind and I can't tell you how special that is to me. 

I'm still working my way through the diaries, I dip into it from time to time I don't read them religiously like a novel. I don't have his last diary though. That still sits in the same place at my Mum's house that it sat the day he put it down, the night before he passed away. I'm not sure I could bring myself to read that to be honest. 

I mentioned my Dad's absent mindedness earlier and my favourite diary entry so far was in among his revelations on  3 July 87... 

"Alan took me to sainsburys with Vi's shopping list and when I got back I realised I'd left a chicken, 2 steak and kidney pies and some sausages behind!"

To add to the fun, he goes on to describe how he rang sainsburys, they kindly put the stuff aside and told him to come back up with the receipt and he could collect it. So back up there we trundled, with the receipt and when he got to the customer service desk he couldn't find the bloody receipt! It had fallen out of his pocket in my car where we eventually found it! Alls well that ends well anyway, the chicken, pies and sausages came home with us eventually! 

If you knew my Dad this would bring a smile to your face, he was such a silly old fool sometimes but in the nicest possible way. Sadly (or not perhaps) I have inherited his foolish ways and am now growing into a similarly bumbling old fool. I forget stuff all the time and am accident prone beyond belief. It takes a special kind of patience to live with me I expect.

My life since my Dad died has been somewhat up and down. The downs have been pretty much all my own doing and I can't help but wonder if I'd have made better decisions had I still had his wisdom and mere presence in my life. I suppose that smacks of me passing the buck really. But I do think I changed as a person 20 years ago today and not for the better, despite wanting to do right by his memory and try to be the kind of Man he was. It's hard to admit it really but I've lost count of the times I've looked up to the sky and said sorry to him (which you may think is an odd thing to do for someone who doesn't believe in God or the concept of heaven). 

Anyway that's enough of that. 

These days, unlike the 80s and 90s we have tons of photos and filmed footage of our nearest and dearest on phones, social media and whatnot. I don't think people see the point of keeping handwritten diaries anymore and I don't keep one myself for that matter. But perhaps this has taught me that when you're dead and gone, despite the photographs and videos and Facebook memories and all that business, having something which that person wrote on a page, no matter how mundane, is a priceless thing to leave behind for your nearest and dearest. Even if it isn't a daily diary, just some thoughts on a page or suchlike, something that they can read and feel you coming at them through the ink on the paper. It's like you're living through that page. Make sense? I hope so...

National Poetry Day. Why not...

Rolling into london
There's traffic everywhere
I need to earn some money
I need to find a fare
Scouring busy pavements
With an Eagle eye
Seeking out a needy face
With their hand held high
Other cabs go back and forth
With punters all aboard
There must be one out there for me
Among this seething horde
And then as if by magic
A hail is proffered forth
I wonder where he's going to
East South West or North
It doesn't really matter though
It makes no odds to me
I'll take them anywhere they want
Cos that's my job you see
So with a cheerful smile I say
"where you off to mate"
He wants the Netherlands embassy
Which sits in Hyde Park Gate
In he gets and off we go
The traffics looking iffy
But this cabby has The Knowledge, see
So we arrive there in a jiffy
He pays the fare and thanks me
For a nice efficient trip
And a happy glow envelops me
Despite the lack of tip!
So now I'll find another fare
To keep me good and happy
And that's the end of my poem
About being a London cabbie.

Peace x

Olivers Army is here to stay... I hope.

Well it was only a matter of time, having got myself blogged up, that I would attempt this topic.

So I've been a London cabbie 9 years now and boy have things changed in that relatively short time. All manner of things have been sent to test us, terrorist threats, plagues of minicab touts, Ash clouds, the Olympics, exploding TX4 Taxis, big ugly financial disasters (but that's enough about Boris Johnson for now), but in the main we've coped admirably.

There are still days when I question my decision to give up a proper job (20 years in the IT industry), with a cushy salary, paid holiday, BUPA cover etc, but in the main I don't regret it really. Being my own boss far outweighs the pluses of a regular guaranteed salary, throwing a sickie, office parties and a bit of team banter. Anyway I digress. Generally speaking it's a good job with its ups and downs. Like any other job basically.

Becoming self employed seemed a little like a leap of faith after so many years of a secure, predictable monthly wage, but back then it seemed quite exciting and you knew if you put the hours in behind the wheel you could earn a decent crust. Threats to your livelihood come and go, some bigger and more threatening than others, but you keep your head down best you can and hope the long established reputation and popularity of your noble trade will see you through tough times.

The latest candidate for pantomime-villain-in-chief and potential threat to our 350+ year old, Oliver Cromwell-founded trade is a little beastie called Uber. A purveyor of, what is affectionately referred to in hipster circles as, 'disruptive technology'. In short, an app based service that allows Joe Public to effectively "hail" a minicab.

A harmless enough concept on the face of it, certainly to those of you whose livelihoods are not affected by it (ie you, the non cabbie reader, the aforementioned Joe Public) and are blissfully unaware of the laws surrounding the licensing of such services. But never has a new entrant to the already over crowded and ultra competitive world of public transportation in London caused such a commotion. Battle lines have been very distinctly drawn over this issue and there are two distinct sides to this conflict.

In the Red corner we have Uber of course. In addition we have Transport For London (TFL) who are the regulator and licensor of both London Taxis and Private Hire Operators (minicabs in old money). Finally, the foot soldiers in this particular force are a fair section of the general public, those being the customers and champions of the Uber service. Their ammunition in this battle is that Uber is great for competition; they're way cheaper than taxis (and most minicab companies apparently); it's a free market and the world is changing; the old dinosaur monopoly that is the taxi trade must be dismantled at all costs in the name of cheaper travel around the capital. Oh and it's "convenient'.

In the Blue corner, the London Taxi trade. Now we are fighting an uphill battle here because we are pretty much on our own. It's a modern day Alamo, if you will, minus the racoon-skin hats and the zapata moustaches. Our own licensing authority are seemingly batting for the other team and the main opponent is a multi-gazillion dollar tax evader who is in bed with any number of Tory MPs and media journalists. They have unlimited legal resources with which to thwart anyone who has the temerity to ask them to comply with annoying shit like 'the law'. Speaking of the law, this is the crux of the Blue corner fight. In granting a Private Hire operator license to potential applicants TFL stipulate, among other things, the following criteria should be met:

* a customer service landline phone number is provided by the PH Operator

* the service is strictly advanced bookings only (only taxis can ply for hire, ie instant hirings)

* the vehicles do not operate a metered tariff system (only taxis are allowed to operate this)

* the operator must ensure their drivers (or partners as Uber like to refer to them) have sufficient hire and reward insurance to cover occupants in the unlikely event (not THAT unlikely actually given their current driver track record) that there is an accident

Uber satisfy NONE of these criteria. Most peculiar eh? What's more, Uber not only operate a meter, they SURGE price it when they deem demand is high! It's like rocking up to Sainsburys and being told "we're low on milk so it's £12 a litre fella, that ok?". Recently during the 48 hour tube strike,  Uber very kindly assisted the travelling public of London by surging their prices by 300%. Which is nice. Of course, the Red corner argue this is fine because they are waaaaay cheaper than everyone else to start with (this being mainly achieved by Uber having a cosy tax domicile arrangement whereby they don't pay their dues like what us peasants do, plus they pay their drivers so little a large number of them rely on working tax credits to earn a crust). But hey, who cares about trivia like that anyway, we all drink Starbucks while browsing Amazon to find the cheapest electric toothbrush right?

Alongside these shortcomings is also the ongoing, not so well publicised (funny that) issue of Uber customers' accounts being hacked and their bank details appearing for sale on 'the dark web'. A multitude of complaints have surfaced about fictitious rides being charged to people who weren't even in the same continent at the time never mind the same city! A brief report of this issue appeared on the BBC's Watchdog programme although given the scale of the issue (you only need to search the #ubered tag on Twitter to see for yourself) it's odd that it received such limited airtime.

Now, finally we come to the drivers themselves. The Uber 'partners'. I don't deny these people are working hard to feed their families, I have no problem with that. But what I do object to is turning into a one way street and having one of them happily hurtling towards me at 30mph, with wide eyed and frantic punters sat in the back, because they have no clue where they're going despite (or because of) being glued to the sat nav glowing into their eager little faces. This is a pile up just waiting to happen and, once again, if you peruse the #ubered hashtag on Twitter you'll be presented with all manner of photos and video footage of their daring feats of idiocy. A combination of topographical cluelessness and long shift fatigue is a very potent mix. Couple this with the massive likelihood that due to the peanuts they're paid it's extremely unlikely they have the appropriate level of insurance, then you start to wonder at Joe Publics judgement too.

Anyway that's my not so brief and naturally biased summary of the arguments on either side. Of course the Taxi trade have a wider beef with TFL which spans many areas other than just Uber (lack of enforcement against touting, hideous delays in renewing driver's licenses causing them to be effectively unemployed, imposition of age limits on cabs, the list goes on), but there's no escaping the fact that TFLs inexplicably lenient tolerance of Uber and it's business practice is the main catalyst in this battle. All the Taxi trade is asking is that Uber operates by the same rules as the rest of us (existing Private Hire operators included, they are as much an opponent of Uber as we are). If Uber, the public, TFL, the Mayor, the Tories et al want a 'free market' that's fine, but all participants in that market have to operate on a level playing field, abiding by the appropriate regulations.

The taxi trade are lambasted by opponents saying they are afraid of competition. We have had competition from minicabs for decades (in fact every taxi driver on the road is competition as far as I'm concerned!) but this isn't just competition, it's UNFAIR competition because it clearly isn't a level playing field. We are told we are afraid of change and technology. We've had radio circuits for donkeys years and currently we also have Taxi apps like Gett, Hailo and the soon to be launched CabApp. Next up, "you're afraid of losing your monopoly/cartel"... We operate in a city where the public have the choice of a taxi, minicab, tube train, bus, Boris bike, their own bike, car, coach etc etc. If that's your idea of a monopoly I suggest you advance directly to jail without collecting £200 for passing Go. One criticism we are guilty of is that the ability to pay by credit/debit card is not guaranteed in a Taxi. This is an increasing requirement for the public and it's something that cab drivers are slowly realising is a necessary facility they need to offer. There are still way too many "cash only" signs in the back of London taxis but moves are afoot to address this situation as the trade recognises the importance of this issue. I and many of my colleagues do accept card payment and consultations are currently under way with a view to a compulsory system for all drivers to do the same.

A big problem with this whole situation is that the media, who love a good old fashioned scrap to get their teeth into, have picked up on this issue and as they are prone to do, they tuck in without doing their homework. Countless badly researched, ill informed and frankly embarrassingly clichéd articles have been published on this subject and Joe Public gobbles it up and buys into the nonsense they print. People still believe what they read in the press and a lot of misinformation has been put out there about the Taxi trade, perhaps agenda driven, perhaps not, who knows.

So where does this leave us? Despite all these issues, my obvious disdain for Uber and the overwhelming dubiousness of their operation, there's no escaping the fact that large sections of the London travelling public seem to like them and employ their services. It doesn't seem to bother the Uber fraternity what their new found darlings' legality is or whether they pay their share of taxes or whether the poor wretch driving them is currently into his/her 18th hour of a shift, they seem to feel it's a perfectly viable option. And that, my brothers and sisters of the Green Badge, is what we are up against whether we like it or not. No matter how many unpopular celebs (ie Katie Hopkins, Peter Stringfellow, Russell Brand, George Galloway et al) line up to tell us how lovely we are and how we are the Gold Standard, the heartbeat of London etc etc blah blah blah, the fact remains people are still using a distinctly dubious alternative simply because it's cheaper and more convenient (ie you don't need cash and you don't need to stand in the street with your arm up). This is how consumers are nowadays. They couldn't give a toss about whether you spent 3 years grafting to attain 'the knowledge', because "you got Sat nav now innit?" (don't get me started on that). Are you a fiver cheaper? That's all that seems to matter really for the majority nowadays. I have one word for you. Primark....

Don't get me wrong, yes I do consider we are the gold standard service in London. In terms of quality, expertise and reputation we are unbeatable, but let's not kid ourselves that large swathes of the public value our knowledge and reputation as highly as we do. People will tell us what we want to hear of course, but let's face it we all bemoaned the demise of Woolworths right? But how many times had you been in said pick n mix purveyors stores in the 12 months leading up to their demise eh? Think on that.

The conclusion? I don't have one is the honest answer. Despite all the above I happen to believe that road congestion is the biggest threat to the future of the London Taxi trade (or any metered form of travel for that matter), but that's another story...

Be lucky!