It's more than 30 years since I attended my first meeting of Brigg Town Council. Back then, the authority held just one meeting a month, where all business on every topic had to be undertaken. These monthly get-togethers often took longer than two hours and occasionally more than three. Things were quite often rushed through because time was running out.
These days the Town Council breaks down its business to be considered more thoroughly by various committees, with the monthly "full council" meeting being more of a rubber-stamping exercise, matters having been considered earlier at committee level.
Not all councillors sit on all committees and sometimes the agendas are a bit thin, not containing many items.
Such was the case on Monday night when the planning and environment committee met in the Angel Suite. Town Mayor Coun Ben Nobbs, chairing the debate, had his time-piece on the table and was able to confirm all business successfully concluded after 9 minutes and 31 seconds.
Had it not been for the "2GW output" Centrica Brigg Ltd power station proposal (see today's earlier post) we could have had a record on our hands. Or, more likely, the chairman might have considered cancelling the meeting, due to lack of business.
With the "full council" meeting in the Angel not due to start until 7.30pm that gave planning committee councilors, the Mayor and the press more than half-an-hour's free time.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
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6 comments:
Are you saying our town mayor is 150 years old and weighs about 13 tonnes, Scribs?
You'll be using Tommy Tucker, Henny Penny and Micky Mouse next to describe Brigg's councillors.
How would you like it if I called you Benjamin Fisher (sorry Enid B), Niggles?
Next time, call him, Your Honour!
I've always believed "Your Worship" to be the correct term of address for a Town Mayor, as it is for a Magistrate.
"Your Honour" should be afforded to a Circuit Judge.
"My Lord" would apply to a higher-ranking judge (eg High Court) or to a Bishop.
"The Rt Rev" would be the correct written term of address for a Bishop; "The Very Rev" for a Dean; The Ven for an Archdeacon.
Here endeth the lesson, Ken.
Know-all!!!
Folks don't like ex-grammar school swots!
The highest term position I ever occupied at Brigg Grammar was eighth and the lowest 23rd. I did not have a Prep School leg up in life and was raised in a council house with an outside toilet across the yard (cue: New World Symphony background music). Talking of which, Ken, I'll shortly be going out for chips (not of the on-the-shoulder sort). Will pass on your swordfish suggestion today, mate, and settle for haddock.
My position in borstal was 7th bed on the left. My highest position was a bunk-bed. Knuckles Harbuckle occupied the lower bunk - broken nose, cauliflower ears - we made sure he always came first.
Going back to outside toilets...I lived in a house with an outside toilet....but someone had installed a Crapper loo in the box room at some time. It didn't have a neat cistern as we know today, but the chain went through the ceiling and connected to a flushing arm on an enormous water tank in a room what was obvciously called the tank room on the next floor.
One of the favourite tricks, circa aged 5 to 7 years, was to pull the chain in the water tank room,releasing a forcible and massive volume of water rushing down a vertical 15ft feeder pipe towards an unsuspecting person on the toilet below.
My old Granny Turner used to wear large pink bloomers with elesticated legs which came below hers knees....poor old thing, she became a victim of my antics.
The tsunami took her by surprise and she came out of the loo, soaking wet bloomers about her ankles shouting to my dad to tell him that there must have been a blow-back explosion in the water system.
When my mum realised what had reallky happened, my innocent and very surprised brother got a slap.
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