Okay, continuing on the same theme, when my mother first went into care, the Home said it offered all sorts of extra services, like supplying newspapers (at a price) and sundry other things. Then it changed its mind and said it couldn't obtain newspapers so I would have to find another option. That option appeared in the guise of a seemingly helpful staff member who lived across the road from the Home. She said she visited the newsagent's before work every morning and it would be no bother to get my mother's paper at the same time. She even dropped into work for a while on her days off, and said she would bring in a newspaper then, too.
This went on for a while until management advised me at a care review that it wasn't a good idea. I told the staff member I'd find another way of procuring newspapers, but she said "Nah, don't worry about that, I'll continue to get her papers, 'cos I do what I like, I don't listen to them!" How nice, I thought, so on top of the £50 per month I'd being giving her for the papers, I started giving the woman a gratuity of £20 each month (£70 in total) and she carried on getting them. Then, one evening, I noticed my mother didn't always get a paper and expressed to another member of staff my concern, who must've mentioned it to the other woman.
(I should perhaps explain that my mother has a memory retention span of around 15-20 seconds. Often, when she gets to the end of a newspaper, she goes right back to the beginning and starts again. However, reading a paper had been part of her daily routine back home and become a habit, which I was trying to maintain for the sake of consistency.)
Next time I visited, the 'paper lady' came into my mother's room and said she'd forgotten to get a paper last time, so she'd bought a TV mag to make up for it. Price of TV mag? Around 45 pence, compared to the cost of around £1.30 for a paper. This happened a few times, and I became concerned about not all the money I supplied for newspapers being spent as it should. I mentioned this to the woman, who told me to get the papers myself then, which I'd been considering doing anyway. However, she still owed my mother two papers as I'd given her the money for them a month in advance. I was visiting my mother the night after she should've been supplied with the two papers (one a daily, one a weekly), but they were nowhere in sight.
What was in sight, though, were various newspapers from several prior visits, as they hadn't been thrown out. Why would the newest two papers be absent when older ones were still there? The woman claimed she'd given them to other staff to give to my mother, and even mentioned a 'witness'. When speaking to the person later, her response was "Witness? I wasn't even there!" So, here's a bit of interactive participation for you. What do you call a person who doesn't spend all the money she's given for newspapers on newspapers, and who lies about it? Over to you...
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| Lorraine Miller |
Let me tell you a story - a true story. This took place just over two years ago and involves a staff member who works at the Care Home my 104 year-old mother currently resides in. I was leaving one night when I noticed there were no bedsheets or duvets on my mother's bed. Spotting a staff member at the end of the corridor, I said "Excuse me..." in a perfectly polite way. Her eyelids flickered, indicating she had heard me but decided not to answer. "Excuse me" I said again, "there's no bedsheets on my mother's bed." Her response? "Nothing' to do wi' me, I've just started my shift - I don't know what happens through the day" (though she should be informed at the handover) she said, without even looking in my direction. Her tone was contemptuous, and her manner seemed to suggest that I was out of order even speaking to her.
"If I don't tell you, you won't know," I replied, only to be met with a brusque "Ah'll pass it on!" I told her I didn't like her tone and I reported her the next day. Because I couldn't supply her name (didn't know it), my complaint was only partially upheld, though as only two or three staff were on in my mother's wing that night, it should've been easy to determine who the offending party was. Remember when I told you on a previous occasion about finding my mother fully dressed, slumped asleep in her armchair in front of the TV (which was still on, as was the room light) at 1 a.m. in the morning? (I'd gone up to check on something.) I also complained about that, and their response was to start locking the outer doors, clearly to prevent me from making any further early morning discoveries of neglect and incompetence. These doors had never been locked before in the two years my mother had been a resident so you can draw your own conclusions. (The inner doors had a keypad entry system to which I had the code.) When I asked this woman why the doors were suddenly being locked, she sarcastically replied "Cuz Ah fancied a change!"
This Care Home has an inability to replace my mother's hearing aid batteries on a regular basis, often leaving her deaf for hours at a time. Sometimes I would ask this woman to replace them and she'd make the excuse that she had something else to do first. This happened at least a couple of times. An hour later, it was time for me to leave, without being able to communicate with my mother as the staff member had apparently disappeared off the face of the earth. When I asked other members, they said they'd go and get the other woman to do it, but again, there was no show. This happened several times, and I had no alternative but to depart when my visit was over without being able to speak with my mother. It was clear to me that the woman was simply being spiteful to get back at me for complaining about her.
A few months back, I arrived and saw her through the windowed inner doors, lolling against the wall while checking her mobile 'phone. I could hear someone from down the corridor, repeatedly calling "Hello, hello, hello..." so this woman must've heard her too. When she looked up from her mobile and saw me, she walked off in the opposite direction from the source of the voice, presumably to avoid me. Once inside, I soon learned that it was my mother, standing at her door and calling for assistance (I hadn't recognised her voice at first), only to be ignored by this particular staff member. You couldn't make it up, could you? Management, though, seem determined to protect their staff at the expense of the residents and their relatives and I'm made to feel I'm the problem, not their staff.
And now there have been other developments, which I'll share at a later date.
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| Janette Beckinridge |
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| Copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd |
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| Copyright DC COMICS |
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| Images copyright relevant and respective owners |
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| Copyright MARVEL COMICS |
If you can remember the long hot summer of 1976 then, like me, you're positively ancient. There was a heatwave that year and I recall seeing waves of steam rising from the tarmacadam roads like a tangible force. Jack 'King' Kirby had returned to Marvel only the year before after a five year stint at DC, and in '76 he had two new Marvel Treasury Specials on sale. Namely, Captain America's Bicentennial Battles and 2001: A Space Odyssey. The two currently in my collection are replacements I acquired a good number of years ago and one glance at them returns me to those days of the mid-'70s in a heartbeat.
It's said you can get too much of a good thing, but I've never let that deter me from buying different printings of the same comics. Facsimiles, True Believers, collected editions, etc., are a magnetic lure to me I find nigh-impossible to resist. That's why I recently forked out for a new printing (well, 2021) of Cap's Bicentenial Battles Treasury, plus a Cap America collected volume (2005) containing the same titanic tale (as well as a few other Cap reprints). The TS is almost the same dimensions as the original, though on better paper, with a deluxe overlapping cover.
The book is around the same dimensions as a standard comic mag (but with more pages obviously) and also contains CA #s 201-205, again on superior paper. Whoever was responsible for compiling the credits for the front of the book had clearly never heard of Barry Smith, as, presumably having referred to the credits on the tale's splash page where Barry is listed only as B. Smith, appears to have taken a guess and rendered his name as Bob Smith. (I wonder what Barry would say if he ever finds out.) Thing is, because the original '76 Treasury is a peculiar size, being presented in a smaller format leaves too large a margin below each page.
The 'new' Treasury is a very handsome affair and if you're a Captain America or Jack Kirby fan, it's definitely one you should consider adding to your collection - even if you already own its original incarnation as it also features Marvel's Bicentennial Calendar in the back (one month per page). And just to be complete, below is the cover to Kirby's other '76 Treasury Special - 2001: A Space Odyssey. If you once had either (or both) of these two publications (or still have them), share your thoughts about them in our comments section.
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| Copyright relevant owner |
Okay, so where were we? Let me give you some background on the woman I was telling you about in part one. She wasn't too popular with other staff, considering herself to be the boss's 'favourite', and she often tried to 'lord it' over them, with not much resistance due to her perceived status. Indeed, rumours were rife she and her boss were having or had once had an affair, though truth to tell, I never saw any evidence of it, but a lot of staff believed it to be true and had stories to tell. I almost wish it were true, as then I'd have another means by which to expose her for the deceitful individual she is, but I'm not one to make accusations unless I know they're 100% true and accurate. However, they both certainly appeared to be close.
Anyway, to recap, we'd mended our fences 'til she offended me again and I once more decided to have nothing to do with her, so simply behaved as though she didn't exist. I continued my established daily routine of a few years, posting work to London in late afternoon and then visiting the foodcourt in the town's shopping centre for a cup of tea, sometimes a meal, and a read of my newspaper. I started to notice I was getting dirty looks from some people and was stunned to eventually learn she was insinuating that I was stalking her, and using my letter from several weeks before as alleged 'proof'.
Bear in mind she'd made no such suggestions about my letter at the time - the very letter which led to our 'reconciliation' and us getting along amicably until her re-offence. No, it was weeks (perhaps months) later that she sought to reinterpret my letter in support of her claim, even though I was studiously ignoring her very existence at that stage. I didn't know her address, nor her 'phone number, had never expressed interest in her, and was doing nothing in my daily routine I hadn't done for years. So how can you be stalking someone when you don't talk to or look at them, and pay no attention to them? Truth is, she was simply trying to make my life difficult to intimidate me into staying away from the foodcourt and show me she called all the shots (in her mind).
Once, as I was sitting having a cuppa in the foodcourt, she walked through, looked around to ensure she was unobserved, scowled at me, and then drew her finger across her throat in a slashing manner. Not exactly ladylike or even normal behaviour, is it? But there's more. A local druggie told me (while asking me for 'spare change') she'd approached him and asked how much he'd take for 'sorting me out'. He's now dead, but at least he was smart enough (just) not to entertain the notion. He'd have come off second best if he had.
Sounds almost unbelievable, doesn't it? However, I can assure you it's all 100% true. So what was in my letter that could be distorted after the fact to fit her malicious agenda? Here, let me quote some relevant extracts, which I can do verbatim (Susan's real name aside) as I made a copy before passing it on to her via her daughter.
"...without meaning to be rude to you, Susan is unequivically the only woman on the planet who I care talks to me or not."
"Anyway, Susan suggests that I apologise again, and her wish is my command. In fact, if she commanded, I would get down on my knees in the foodcourt and kiss your feet."
"However, that said, I shall continue to assume you want nothing to do with me unless you yourself indicate otherwise."
I just this moment dug out my copy of the letter to refer to for this post, but I'd forgotten I'd previously passed her a brief note (in the company of her boss, who read it first), saying the following: "To be honest, I don't actually give a sh*t if you speak to me again or not (and I'm sure you care even less) but for (boss's name) sake, I'm going to try and accomplish what you wouldn't let me do last time, and apologise (for ignoring her apology).
The smarter among you will have sussed another reason for my letter was I knew she'd more than likely show it to Susan, who I hoped would be touched by what a lot I thought of her. How could she not be, given how much I was prepared to 'humble' myself if she so commanded? Okay, admittedly I was indulging in humorous hyperbole - kissing anyone's feet was definitely not a statement of intent, nor a declaration of ambition (or even a remote possibility), merely a convenient tongue-in-cheek way of indicating the high regard in which I held Susan.
Like I said, initially the letter mended fences, with no sly insinuations at the time. No, they came several weeks later, after the fences got broken again. And that's important to remember, so I'll reiterate it: she made no spurious insinuations until after I fell out with her for a second time. Eventually, most of the security guards wised-up and warned this woman about her behaviour and false claims. One of her staff later apologised to me and admitted he'd been manipulated (his own word) into corroborating her outlandish claims about me. She never made an 'official' complaint, it was all sly suggestion and sinister insinuation, and the head of the shopping centre later told me she'd done this sort of thing before.
There's so much more to tell, and maybe I will at a later date, but for the moment, suffice to say I eventually went to the police and had a lawyer's letter sent to her, saying that unless she desisted from her false claims, I'd pursue legal redress with the full rigour of the law. It's important to emphasise she never thought she was being stalked for one second, it was simply a malicious, spiteful lie designed to create trouble for me. And it did. For example, fighting off three guys who attacked me in the food court on a day when the security cameras were turned off due to being repaired or replaced. Now I wonder who could've tipped them off about that?
However, at the end of the day I was vindicated and I derive a certain degree of satisfaction from that, though I'd prefer to have avoided the situation altogether. She was exposed as a bit of a nutter who enjoyed playing the victim, and she later advised one of her young staff who claimed an admirer was stalking her, not to say that as it could rebound on the girl as it had on her. (She told this to [or was overheard by] someone who worked nearby, who told me.) I suspect she still portrays herself as a victim now and again, though she'll be careful with whom she does it. Rest assured, if I ever hear even a whisper of her repeating her false and discredited claims about me, I'll be suing her for defamation of character.
So, Crivvies, anything like that ever happen to you, and if so, how did you deal with it? Reveal all in the comments section - if you're brave enough.
This true tale I'm about to accurately relate occurred nearly 30 years ago (28 to be precise), yet it still has ramifications on my life to this day. Perhaps it's a story I should keep to myself as even to be associated with such a topic is immensely embarrassing, though I have a clear conscience and consider myself innocent of any misconduct, and to have been completely beyond reproach in the matter. (At least to a normal person.) However, I believe in being honest and I also need to mine my own life experiences from time-to-time in order to have something interesting (or close to it) to write about on Crivens.
So, with that in mind, here's a question for you all. Do you know the most effective way to make a woman hate you? Apart from telling her yes, her bum does look big in that, or asking her to repeat herself 'cos you weren't listening. It's to utterly ignore her and refuse to have anything to do with her. That seems to annoy the hell out of a certain kind of woman and in some cases provoke them into seeking revenge by any means posssible, even if it means telling the most outrageous lies about you in their unhinged desire to get even.
I once knew such a woman, who worked for a local businessman who I considered a friend. Turns out he wasn't. I'll try and give you the 'Reader's Digest Condensed Books' version or we'll be here all week, but I fell out with her after she had offended me on a couple of occasions. I should perhaps stress at this point that she was what I considered a deeply unattractive woman with a horrible personality, and I strongly suspect she was mentally disturbed. Never at any point did I have designs on her as she wasn't the kind of woman I'd ever have been interested in.
I used to do drawings and posters for her boss, usually in exchange for little more than a cup of tea or a plate of lasagne from a food outlet in the local shopping centre. Hey, I was self-employed at the time and doing all right so it wasn't as if I needed extra money. Her boss usually gave me a lift home most nights in his Merc, presumably because he saw me as someone useful to have around. He also occasionally cashed cheques for me as he seemed fascinated with the Marvel UK logo on some of them and appeared pleased to be 'associated' with the brand.
Anyway, to speed things along a bit, a while after I'd fallen out with his employee, she pulled her car in behind his one night (blocking its exit from the carpark), opened his passenger door and gave a fulsome (if insincere) apology for offending me. I have absolutely no doubt her boss had encouraged her to do so, lest he be deprived of a source of posters and art for his various food outlet businesses. I was still too angry to speak to her and simply ignored her, leading her to storm off saying "Huh, and they say women are huffy!"
I explained to her boss I wasn't yet ready to overlook her previous 'transgressions', and he nodded and said "Try and get along with her for my sake." Then he ran me home. Later, I felt a bit bad and petty about ignoring her apology and decided to repair bridges, so the next time I saw her, I said hello and she ignored me. No skin off my nose, to be honest, because I didn't much like her. I mentioned to her boss that my olive branch had been rejected and he again requested I try and 'get on with her'. I was disinclined to oblige him until another person entered the scene.
This is where I introduce 'Susan' into events. Susan isn't her real name, but I want to spare her any embarrassment should she ever chance to read this post. Susan worked for the same boss as the other woman and I thought very highly of her and would've done just about anything she asked. She enquired of me one day whether I was speaking with her fellow employee yet and I explained I'd tried but been rebuffed. "Maybe you should try again" was all she said. Doubtless her boss, knowing of my regard for her, had suggested she speak to me on the matter.
Now, I'd have done anything to please Susan and make her think kindly of me, so I resolved to put things right with the other woman and repair the situation, even though I could easily have lived with matters as they were. I preferred not to have to speak to her so wrote her a letter which did the trick. She showed it around to people, including Susan (as I'd suspected she would), and our acquaintanceship was soon once again on an even keel. Her boss was happy, Susan was happy, and I was - well, at least satisfied with having 'done the right thing'.
Things went swimmingly for a few weeks until the woman was once more rude to me, causing me to fall out with her yet again. I informed her boss that was it, I had bent over backwards to accommodate her, but it was the last straw and I wouldn't be talking to her ever again and the two of them could kiss goodbye to me ever doing any posters for her unit at any time in the future.
Guess what happened then? That's a (shocking) tale for next time, and you'll be astounded at the lengths some deranged people will go to in order to 'get even' with those they take against. Look out for part two - coming soon.
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| Copyright DC COMICS |
So who created Thor? Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, or Jack Kirby? Maybe none of them, as Bill Finger seemingly came up with nearly all the concepts of Marvel's Thor in 1959, in Batman #127. For instance, Thor's hammer always returns to him after it's thrown; Thor, in reality, is a puny, skinny guy who'd probably have to run around in the shower to get wet; and when his human identity touches the hammer, he transforms into Thor. Coincidence? Whoever was responsible for the Marvel incarnation, perhaps Lee, Lieber, and Kirby were subliminally influenced by this tale or simply unashamedly appropriated its concepts for their own use.
What do you think, Crivvies? Which of the three Marvel luminaries do you think 'ripped off' DC and claimed the idea as their own? Comments welcome, as always. And if you'd like to read this tale for yourselves, the facsimile edition is available now from all good comics shops!
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| Copyright BBC TV and the Estate of TERRY NATION |
Remember The Daleks' hoverbout from TV Century 21 and Dalek Annuals? The Dalek seen above, being a 'modern' one, doesn't need such a craft, as the tinpot tyrants are able to fly under their own steam nowadays, so just imagine the hoverbouts are for longer journeys to conserve power, which is how I regard them. I'll have to keep an eye out for a 'classic' Dalek to replace the 'new' one, if I don't already have one somewhere - I forget whether I do or not. (Well, actually, I do have one, but it's holding a 'brain' or something, which isn't detachable.)
Anyway, thought some of you might like to see one of my recent acquisitions, seeing as how it's a physical manifestation of an iconic piece of comic strip Dalek equipment from the swinging 1960s. Like I said at the start of this post - do you remember them? (These are the seller's pictures - I'll add my own when I get a spare moment to snap some.)
(And what's happened to commenter CJ? On holiday, in hospital, joined a monastery? CJ, where are you? Out gallivanting with Scooby Doo?)
