Sunday, 20 June 2010

Talking Pollacks



A quiet weekend aside from a 30 second visit to the local fete (picture) with a Beach Boys tribute doing a desultory set in the bandstand, an interesting use of the not inconsiderable precept levied by the Town Council. The Prime Minister has invited us all to think about what the state should and shouldn't do: so, if you're reading this, Dave, maybe local Councils should leave fetes to the local great and good, vicars, etc. But before I embark on a Poujadist diatribe about my wallet this might be a good time to reflect on some feedback about Bill's Blog...

You will have noticed that there is no opportunity for comment on the blog. However, Hafal is presently developing a Facebook presence mainly for the purpose of enabling people to comment on and engage with our on-line services, specifically the corporate Hafal website and our news and information site Mental Health Wales. When the Hafal Facebook pages are fully set up I will put up a permanent link on this (non-corporate) blog so that people can comment on the "shop" issues which I cover. Meanwhile anybody can e-mail me at bill@hafal.org about any matter. To judge by the spookily informative analytics device monitoring this blog there are 300 plus people taking a look each month averaging 3 visits each and taking an average 2 minutes per visit which seems generous in these days of short attention spans - but I promise not to try your patience by getting yet more verbose.

Among the most vital feedback received so far is the advice that I should be calling "pollack" (see fishy post here) by its new name "colin" - pronounced French-fashion. The basis for this correction can be found on this link describing a rather desperate attempt to dignify this low-rent species as something worth choosing in place of cod (as instructed by millionaire foodie - and oppressor of poor people daring to buy ordinary chicken - Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall). I thought "colin" was French for hake but I am happy to call any fish Colin in the spirit of compromise. However, I am not happy to choose Colin (aka pollack) over delicious, snow-white, firm-flaked cod. I am afraid that if I was left in charge of the last surviving breeding pair of cod there would come a Friday when, well, I just might not be able to resist...