The eyes have it

I was shocked to discover that some of my old golfing acquaintances have been involved in scheming of late. Apparantly they are now working with IBM and trying to extract very large sums of money in compensation from Somerset County Council. The whole thing is a complete a mystery to me, as you might expect. Perhaps there is a connection with the computer software IBM installed which has been such a conspicuous success? I will have to ask Eunice about it. She has her fingers in all sorts of delicate areas these days

Bavarian Rhapsody

I make no apology for my hobbies. Golf is the sport of true leaders. And leaders must live up to their fine reputation on and off the greens. That is why I am glad to have acquired the latest handsome addition to my motoring collection - complete with the plate from my trusty Discovery.... (it was time to get rid of her. She must have been at least two years old).... by which our arrival will always be recognised. Eunice says it is flash, Teutonic and brutally unfeminine. She drove it into town the other day to pick up a trinket donated by a well-wisher and reported that it went "like the clappers" was a "bit of a dog" on the bends, but possessed a "pleasingly polished hood" . What a way with words she has.

Driving Up Standards

Some decry the personalisation of politics. But not me. And not Ken either. Together we are standing up for the best principles of opaque transparency. We are more than numbers. We are proud of our names and also our county council initials. We are brimful of fine ideas. Not content with tackling the county's roadside pothole problems, I have ordered an immediate trial of an original German scheme to sell potholes to the public. If our personal vehicles can bear fine expensive number plates then surely many voters will queue up to pay the price for filling in the tarmacadam fissures in return for their names emblazoned on the top of every mended hole? I think it is a model notion and I have asked Eunice, who has wide spread experience in many fields, to obtain public testimonials from her closest friends

My Accolade

It is less than two years ago that she gazed into my eyes and uttered these wonderful words:

"At this point I need to pause and reflect on the internal workings of Council because my next accolade goes to a Scrutiny Sub-Committee Chairman, David Huxtable, for his work leading the team on the Audit and Resources Sub Committee. It is very difficult for authorities to succeed and to continue to improve without good scrutiny and, particularly, without good scrutiny of their plans and their finances and the regulations that surround them. This Council should be grateful for the work that has been undertaken by that Scrutiny Team."

Dear Jill. We come from different political stables but she knew she could rely on me to scrutinise South West One and recognise the overwhelming merits of the operation by overlooking the difficulties. That is why I was able to collect generous council allowances of £32,000 in spite of my party colours. That is why IBM have always behaved with such open-handed kindness. And that is what has enabled me to adorn my automobiles with personalised number plates. In fact I am already considering a new addition to the family if the lovely Fiona Chapstick will only grace me with another bulging brown envelope. There has, of course, been much disloyal gossip about the alleged shortcomings of SAP, the IBM preferred computer thingy. Well I can tell you that as of tomorrow I am happy to rely upon SAP to pay my council allowances. Normally, of course, I prefer to take technical advice about computers and, indeed, my own website, from Eunice who relishes going the whole way while handling the hardware. But this time I am overseeing an important council inquiry into South West One and SAP, so I will be striving to ensure that Ms Chopstick provides a glowing account when she writes it. The sound of rustling banknotes is music to my ears. Ching! Or, if you prefer, Ping.

The Tiger in my tank

A little bit of bad news cannot keep the champion out of the game for long. A little bit of bad weather cannot stop the intrepid County Councillor either. So, as Tiger was saying "sorry" in Florida, I wheeled out another gem from my collection of fine automobiles to make the journey to County Hall. Some of you may have spotted HUX 1, my beloved Porsche, in the balmy summer months. HUX 584, however, can climb snowbound mountains with ease and squash unwary peasants beneath its mighty wheels without upsetting the driver or incurring the slightest scratch upon the paintwork. My 582 other vehicles will be shown off in the days to come. And that's what top-line political leadership is really all about, especially in these days of restraint and prudence. It is my job to lead the drive for economy and efficiency. Ken - or "Barrack" as we now call him - provides the inspirational bit. But the Hux is prepared to get his hands dirty, or at least his all-terrain tyres. Together we are driving forward our plans in style. All of which seems to have given Eunice a fresh spark of enthusiasm for her highly-charged extra curricular activities.

A Skied Drive

When I read news of IBM's problems in the state of Indiana I reached for my handy book of golfing metaphors: "A skied drive is an embarrassing shot that newcomers sometimes do. The ball has a trajectory that goes steeply up and keeps going. With no lateral momentum and only vertical energy, the ball doesn't travel particular far." Does that sound familiar? Clearly Indiana needs the soothing advice of an expert. I will recommend Alan to them. And talking of soothing advice, Eunice has developed an insatiable appetite ever since she started attending her cookery course. The things she can now do with a whisk and a tub of goose fat defy imagination and gravity

Future Perfect

I am delighted to be able to give a little plug to my old chum Alan Jones who has bounced back to the big-time with an exciting new venture that is certain to see him soar. You can read all about it by clicking his logo. I do not understand all the jargon, but he must be on to something.