Last updated 13:24, Thursday, 10 April 2008

SAYING goodbye to Tynedale Council in 12 months’ time will be like attending the funeral of a well-loved but frustrating old friend.

Like Brian Hanrahan in the Falklands, I counted them in during 1973, and I hope to count them out again.

I have known Tynedale councillors who never miss a meeting, but never make any contribution other than to raise their hands to vote, as instructed by the party.

I have known others who speak on every item on the agenda, but what they have to say is of so little consequence they might as well not have bothered.

Still others only speak when they have something of moment to say – and when they do, fellow members sit back and listen.

It was with great delight that I used to see a certain councillor catch the chairman’s eye and rise to speak.

He knew he couldn’t say the word “integrate”, and he knew that I knew he couldn’t say the word integrate, but it seemed to crop up in every speech he ever made.

He was a very persuasive speaker, but broke out in a cold sweat before blurting out “intregate” and slumping back in his seat in frustration.

To digress slightly, there was also a clerk of the local magistrates’ court who had a similar affliction, and dreaded any defendants appearing in court from that splendid village of Matfen.

His face reddened, his jaws worked busily – but it always came out as “Maften”.

The council chamber has been graced by some great characters over the years, who would doubtless be shaking their heads at the shenanigans going on now in the world of local government.

What would the elegantly bow-tied Coun. Albert Shilling from Prudhoe have made of the modern trend of councillors turning up for meetings sporting ragged jeans and tatty tee-shirts?

Ex-train driver Coun. Sam Wright was a stickler for correct behaviour, and once rebuked council chairman Coun. Dick Routledge, of Riding Mill, for offending the dignity of the chamber – by removing his jacket on a blisteringly hot summer’s day!

Veteran Labour campaigner Coun. Joe Douglas raised a few eyebrows by always sitting on the right of the chamber – but that was only because it was handy for him to make one of his frequent visits to the loo.

There were inadvertent if uncharitable chortles in the chamber over the years too, perhaps the notorious being the get well soon card sent by the council to an ex-member who had unfortunately had a leg amputated.

It expressed the wish that she would soon be back on her feet again...

Some councillors made no bones about the fact that they had joined the council with the sole objective of seeing through some pet project, among them Coun. Arthur Gardner, who had been trying for many decades to have a swimming pool built in Hexham.

It was a proud moment for the ex-Guardsman when the dream came true, and he and Viscount Ridley both made ceremonial dives into the new pool – but what a belly flop Arthur’s dive from the springboard was, even at the second attempt!

And through it all there has been one ever-present in Prudhoe’s Coun. Billy Garrett, the only member of the council to have served throughout its existence.

He went from Zapata-moustachioed, hippy-tied youngster to well-respected elder statesman, and is still one of the best respected members of the council by all parties.

And, of course, there was the languid Alan Phillipson, chief planning officer extraordinary, famous for once being pursued into Prospect House by a police officer, who was convinced he was the runaway Lord Lucan!

One thing which is certain to have stuck in the collective craws of the old councillors was the modern obsession with councillors and council officials alike in taking great delight in demonstrating their knowledge of TLAs.

That’s Tynedale speak for Three Letter Acronyms, the local government shorthand for JAE (just about everything).

It used to be the prerogative of the police to couch simple sentences in grandiloquent circumlocution, but councillors now are proceeding in a westerly manner down the same route.

Councils are always being urged to use plain English, but their strange world is a minefield of NSPs, PFIs, PPG3s and MMAs, delivered in a condescending and superior manner.

How I long to send them a letter, inviting them to the next meeting of the EGG1-PHARTZ executive!