Woman of every year
Meeting Rhoda Emlyn Jones for the first time was breathtaking shock.
It was in 1973 and I had a disagreement with a fellow Newport Councillor John Marsh. John objected to spending council money on a hostel for alcoholics. He was a teetotaller and complained with passion that alcoholism was 'self-inflicted.' It was my anger that propelled me to visit the newly opened Emlyn House to offer some support.
It was run by Rhoda who is the daughter of the founder of the charity Alun Emlyn-Jones. I was expecting a matronly strapping women who could handle the demanding tasks of running this all-male hostel. Rhoda was an exquisitely beautiful slip of a girl who looked about 18. A slim, elegant Goddesss. She had previously worked as a fashion model.
She ran the hostel with skill and authority. Last weekend she was declared overall winner of Welsh Woman of the Year. Her career has stretched over the past 34 years in treating addiction. Last March she kindly let me make a speech at a conference of drugs she held in Cardiff. We are on the same wavelength on this subject.
Many thousands of addicts have benefited from her work and that of her sister Lucy and father Alun. The family have never espoused the simplistic solutions. Their drug care has been practical and humane. It was a pleasure to nominate her for this award. Congratulations to judges for their decision. There has never been a worthier winner.
Llongyfarchiadau, Rhoda.
Greedy succubus
It was squirming in embarrassment and shame day for Labour Supporters. Yes, the Tories and Plaid Cymru have done worse in the past year, but no - party has been stupider. Given the circumstances, Gordon Brown came out of it with some dignity intact.
My convalescence allowed me the rare pleasure of watching the whole press conference. The questioning by the hacks was relatively gentle. Unusually for jackals, they did not bite him when he was down.
The Tories better not crow too loudly as they have been franchised by Lord Ashcroft. Oh for a tabloid attack on his addresses and status as a ' tax exile'. Lord Laidlaw is another case that would reward probing.
The public's perception is far worse than the reality. A caller on radio Five Live last night told me that there is no party left to vote for, because they are all corrupt. Rubbish! With the exception of Scandinavia we still have the cleanest politics in the world. That goes for all parties.
The great corrupting succubus eating away at the body politic is our dependence on outside financial donors. The sums involved are piffling. My election every four years cost £4,000. The national spending by the Labour party has little influence. The taxpayers are already shelling out £25 million every parliament to opposition parties to pay advisers.
An increase of no more than 10% on the present 'national funding' of political parties would liberate politics from dependence on Mega Greed PLC or the national Union of Riggers and Fixers. Either all parties agree on this, or Gordon should pull off an act of political heroism and go it alone.
There is an alternative. The cash could probably be raised by a group of rich trusts who could combine to fund elections in the name of the public good. Five years ago, I suggested this in a Today programme interview. I had a few meetingswith the man who organised the introduction of the two minutes silence on Remembrance day. He did try to get trusts together, but I have heard nothing further for years.
This is an idea that deserves to be resurrected. It's the only way to avoid shameful days like today that besmirch the reputation of our politics world-wide.
My posting, the day before yesterday, on the cynical marketing of the anti-depressant Effexor brought this alarming letter from an old friend and regular correspondent.
Dear Paul,
I was interested and alarmed to read about Effexor from Wyeth on your blog.
I have been on this awful drug for very nearly 5 years!
Started off on it for a bout of mild depression and have been on since, even though long since over depression.
I once forgot to take my tablets with me on a weekend away at friends and it was truly awful, head shocks, fear and intense irritability, not to mention the most awful nightmares you can imagine.
Recently I got to work and had forgotten to take pills before setting out and had none in car spare.
I spent the day feeling worse and worse, within 20 mins of getting home and taking tabs (by then feeling like death) I was ok.
These bloody things are awful and if I ever get off them it is going to take several years and a lot of hellish times.
Thanks for bringing this to public attention and feel free to use any of above, minus my name.
Cheers.
You write well will be waiting for your new publications.
Posted by: Antivirus_man | December 05, 2010 at 09:59 PM