Best of Peter Rhodes - June 20

The best of this week's Peter Rhodes column from the Express & Star.

SO WHO decided it was a good idea to create a mini-ghetto of Romanian families in that byword for peaceful community relations, Belfast? The good people of Ulster have been chucking bricks at each other for the past 800 years. It was only a matter of time before they introduced the newcomers to their local customs.

OUR week in Devon was memorable. And so was the plaque on the Cobb in Lyme Regis, the massive breakwater still best known for the storm scene in that unforgettable movie, The Frenchwoman's Tenant's Left. The plaque recalls that between April 1825 and November 1826 a party of Royal Engineers, supervised by a mere captain, completed 447 feet of repairs to the Cobb. The projected price was £19,193 but the sappers did it for £17,337. It is a reminder that there was a time when public projects were routinely completed on time and under-budget. Long time ago.

I WROTE some years ago about the CWO (Complete Wally Outfit) which young fathers are forced to wear. The CWO is that back-to-front papoose thing that straps over the male shoulders, holding the baby so that father and offspring's faces are just a few inches apart. I wore the CWO only once, discovering that, even at 10 weeks, a baby can mentally transmit the message: "What a plonker you look." In a column in the Daily Telegraph, Celia Walden offers a female view on the motivation behind the CWO. She refers to babies "carried by bullied husbands in deliberately emasculating pouches, there to ensure that no passing female should ever desire the father of their offspring again." As I suspected. All that claptrap about men bonding with the baby is a smokescreen for the true purpose of the device. As a young father your spouse will force you to wear the CWO to make you unattractive to other women. In later life she will give you a Yorkshire terrier to walk.

LIKE priests swearing allegiance to the true faith, all the main political leaders pledge piously not to cut NHS spending. And while that stupid attitude prevails, watch out for more NHS ads such as this one for something called a "Senior Change Leader" at one of the big London hospitals. They are looking for someone with "the ability and desire to make a measurable impact on the way healthcare is delivered here enterprise-wide. Having embarked on a significant and unique journey of service transformation, and making step changes towards becoming a truly 'Lean hospital,' you will join and play a pivotal role in our internal Change Leaders Team dedicated to engaging staff from the Executive suite to the bedside in re-imagining and re-designing the way we work in order to transform the quality of care our patients receive." The gibberish continues. They want "a natural leader" and a "thought partner." In other words, they want yet another NHS manager. The successful applicant for this non-job will get £60,000 which is about the cost of two new nurses. Messrs Brown and Cameron say not one penny of the NHS budget must be cut. For God's sake, why not?

IN A moment of holiday weakness we blew £12 on a small jar of the Manuka honey I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. Manuka is being hailed by the chattering classes as the ultimate health food, guaranteed to cure everything from asthma to burns. Even the retailers admit it has "a slightly bitter and distinctive taste". How true. As I retched on that curious after-tang of earwax and quinine, I had a brief vision of two New Zealand bee keepers:

"Streuth, Bruce! Me bloody bees have been at them manuka plants and you won't believe what it's done to the honey."

"Turned it crook, mate?"

"Turned it bloody vile, Bruce. Rank as a dingo's dangler. What am I gonna do?"

"I got an idea, mate. You gotta market it as a health food. Charge the bloody earth. Tell the punters it'll cure anything."

"Cure anything? Get real, Bruce. Who's gonna fall for that baloney?"

"The bloody Poms, of course. They'll buy any old wombat doo: Rolf Harris, Neighbours, Fosters."

"Bonzer idea, Bruce. So that's me sales pitch: 'Manuka Honey - Cures the Lot'."

"Can't fail, mate."

I REMEMBER Tony Blair banging on about how knowledge would cascade through the education system if every teacher had a laptop, and thinking: "This bloke hasn't got a clue about computers." Blair's theory was that once people had access to the internet, the wisdom of the world would be theirs. This assumes they have the brains to ask some good questions. From an aviation chatroom yesterday: "Why are some aeroplanes so far up in the sky that you can hardly see them, when others aren't?"

THE FAMOUS architect Lord Rogers says Prince Charles has broken a "constitutional understanding" by condemning his design of the old Chelsea Barracks redevelopment. He is calling for a committee of experts to examine the powers of the prince. Perhaps his lordship could share these enlightened, liberal and thoroughly democratic views with his clients, the owners of the barracks - the government of Qatar.

WE SHOULD probably all eat less meat but whatever possessed His Serene Eminence Sir Paul McCartney to campaign for Meat Free Mondays? That's the day when, in millions of cost-conscious households, the Sunday joint is recycled as shepherd's pie or cold salad. With £400 million in the bank, has Sir Paul forgotten such things?

RESEARCH by the Hygiene Council has found there are more bacteria on kitchen taps than on toilet handles. Do your washing-up in the cistern. You know it makes sense.

THE West Bromwich East MP Tom Watson resigned recently as Cabinet Office minister. Watson is best known as Westminster's uber-blogger, a pioneer and passionate campaigner for online politics. Which explains this e-mail tribute from a fan: "The twitterverse salutes you. Thanks for giving digital people a leg-up in Government." One hundred years from now historians will discover this gem and puzzle endlessly over what the twitterverse was, or why people with digits would need a leg-up. How quickly our language changes.

MORE changing language. A friend has retired early and is scraping a living on a tiny pension and occasional freelance cheques. He describes his lifestyle as "lean-burn". Cometh the hour, cometh the adjective.