Evening All

As the seasons change and winter breathes its last gasp; almost unnoticed on Kirkgate (Ripon's shambles) appear those brightly coloured harbingers of spring: the police van. Litter swirls in their wake and settles back onto the deserted street. It is early Friday evening. No-one is about to witness their arrival save a few hardened drinkers in the Royal Oak, the odd Hopperesque diner and Harbinger, wobbling back to the rank from an evening of prayer and contemplation.

The local Plod heave themselves out of their stripy cocoons and swarm down urine scented alleyways, then all is quiet; what could they be searching for at this time of the evening and who is so dangerous that he requires three vans to bring him in; is it a drugs raid, or are they searching for the elusive crooner and Ripon Mare Andrew (Andy) Williams?  Williams, as you will know by now has been arrested, allegedly in connection with the disappearance of public funds (nicking dosh) and yet he's still holding on to his shiny chain.

 You'd think, wouldn't you, that given the furore surrounding his arrest he would have immediately handed over the chains of office and stepped down from all public engagements but no! You can't get rid of (Andy) that easily. As the plod waddle up the wrong alley, Teflon (Andy) is no doubt cowering in the bushes awaiting the moment to slither back into the council chamber wearing an oleaginous smirk and the contents of his 'Mare's Dressing Up Box'. Imagine for a moment if you will, that (Andy) is innocent of the charge; that he is as pure in thought and deed as a new-born lamb gambolling in a Spring meadow: would it still not be the right thing to do to protect the office of Ripon Mare he professes to hold in such high esteem? As it is, he has not only tarnished the position by association with the charge, but also made it an object of derision. STEP DOWN NOW (Andy) limit the damage and do us all a favour.

Nothing Wrong With A Good Old Fashioned Bit Of GBH', says local plod

You'll be relieved to hear that the Ripon Plod are in full support of violence and Anti Social Behaviour in our local fightclub; Harbinger's interview with Inspector Plod of Ripon constabulary:

  'ASB 'appens in every town in the country', Insp Plod tells me, 'and there's no reason why Ripon can't 'ave its fair share. 'If we stay well clear of the Matrix, especially at kicking out time it means we can sit in the station an' drink coffee an' play Monopoly an' not have to do writin' an' stuff like that. We might even have a mini Brixton or Toxteth which would be great 'cause I might get in the paper an' stuff, there used to get a lot of moaning from shopkeepers around the Matrix about blood on the street and vomit and wee wee, but now they've all closed down so it's great! We can drive around in our police cars and not have to get out, and then there's the road sweeper - he'd have nothing to do on a Sunday morning if he wasn't sweeping up sick and broken glass an' stuff, an' nurses at the hospital need to practice bandaging an' fightin' off drunk people who want to get at their knickers, so you see we 'ave what we in the force call a win win situation, which means that we win and then, err, we win again.

'I'm Doing The Right Thing', Says Christopher Ian's son

 In an exclusive interview with THE PUN, this week, Christopher Ian's son, owner of a Ripon fightclub nightclub, tells how he is helping to ensure that Anti Social Behaviour (ASB) could never happen at the renowned club.

I arrive in the early afternoon and I'm greeted by the Tall, sophisticated, terribly good looking and not in the least bit seedy figure of Christopher Ian's son, He is wearing a bespoke sweatshirt, trendy wrangler jeans & leather style shoes. He shows me round the club: "Of course we're very safety conscious here," he says, waving a long, finely manicured finger at the non slip carpet "Oh yes - the safety of my little soldiers is parachute." Beaming young staff are busy polishing glasses, dusting already spotless shelves & preparing for an evening of lighthearted fun. Christopher Ian's son beams back at them in a paternal way, "They all think I'm terribly good looking you know." But he says it in the most natural way, without a hint of conceit.

"What time does the club open," I ask.

"Oh, well if I can have two bites at the cherries I do: I have a feel for young people, so we like to greet the very young girls,  & boys of course, at about 6pm and I like to be hands on to make sure they have as lovely a time as possible, and then the bigger girls, and boys of course, arrive a little later. You see I wouldn't bother with this night club lark only the youngsters would have nowhere to go at night in their short skirts and lipstick and.......Anyway, I like to give them somewhere safe to "Chill" (He waves his fingers in the air) and I like to charge them very little money for their drinks, because I'm terribly kind.....and good looking."

He shows me the toilets which have an indefinable aroma of nostalgia that takes me back to my school days; they are, of course immaculate - the floor still very wet; no doubt from the mop bucket......."You can eat your dinner off the floor in here if you'd like?" says Christopher Ian's son, "Err, no thanks, I've already eaten".

"Do you know," he says, "I don't think anyone's wee'd in here for years - they don't like to spoil it, the little angels, they all do it outside."

On the subject of the young: does he consider them to be disenfranchised?

"Sometimes it may happen outside the club," he says, "the local paper said a girl was being disenchanfrised behind a local restaurant," "but certainly never inside, we're very strict on that sort of thing."

I ask him about the new signage he's put up - what do they say?

"Well, they've got writing on them" he tells me "Writing and some ticks: it'll mean they don't go outside and fight and wee and be poorly all over the place see?"

Outside the club, Christopher Ian's son has erected some railings which he tells me are for leaning on and things like that; he is, he tells me, 'in loco parentheses' whilst the club is open, but he has some stern words for the youngster's parents: "They're feeding them badly," he says, "forcing them to eat vegetables and things like that; well it makes 'em sick. We try and give them plenty of liquids to settle their tummy's but it's the same every weekend - carrots everywhere. Of course, they don't do it in the club, bless 'em; they do it outside, but that's not the point is it? Parents should take responsibility........I'm doing the right thing."

HBC Sued By Grieving Parents

The 'parking in Kirkgate' issue is gathering momentum over on Twitter with a deal of 're-tweeting' going on and the local constabibulary joining in (if only to sit precariously on the fence). So far as I can tell, the council have not as yet deigned to reply but that kind of arrogance seems to be their default position.

So....Here's the sign, and it seems pretty clear doesn't it? PEDESTRIAN ZONE and NO WAITING AT ANY TIME.

Surprisingly, this doesn't mean 'except when I want to pick up me Chinky' or 'I'm an overweight taxi driver so I can go where I please'.

The summer holidays are on their way and soon the restaurants of Kirkgate will be busy with holidaymakers. Picture the scene: An early evening restaurant. A middle class family (Guardian readers). The children finish eating and are fidgeting and restless so they are allowed into the safe, cobbled and pedestrianised street to play.

10 minutes go by and then there is a screeching noise and a sickening thud. Silence. Sound of running. A car door slams. Shrieking.

Caught on camera below, is a graphic demonstration of how close we have already come to this scenario being tragically played out. These children ran out from between parked cars and were almost hit by the driver who slammed his brakes on in time.

The outcome is not hard to imagine is it folks: one dead or seriously injured child and two very VERY angry, middle class, Guardian reading parents looking to sue the ass of anyone found to be

NEGLIGENT 

First port of call for their London lawyers: Yep; you guessed it; Harrogate Borough Council and OUCH! That's going to be some compensation claim

Second visit I suspect would be our friendly constabibulary who would also appear to have failed in their duties.

The solution is simplicity itself of course:

Enforce the pedestrian zone

Quiz

Kirkgate is Ripon's 'Shambles'
That's what they say ain't it? And no wonder, they share so much common ground: both have some lovely old buildings dating back to the 15th century, both lead to magnificent and important ecclesiastical structures and both were painted by the great British artist, Turner. They are now tourist attractions, shopping destinations and have many cafes, bars and restaurants.

So, here's a little photo quiz to see how well you know the two ancient streets and here to start you off: Shambles or Kirkgate?

Tough one? Here's another:

Bet that's got you thinking. And another, Shambles or Kirkgate? Careful - is that the cathedral or the minster?

This one doesn't give much away but you might be able to work it out:

Here's a tricky one we've been a bit sneaky and blanked the name out, but the clues are all there, both in the text and the obvious civic pride in this lovely plaque.

O.k. Here's a couple more courtesy of Leeds Housing Assoc': a couple of ancient and well cared for doorways from the street, but is it Kirkgate or is it the Shambles?

So.....How did you get on? Not an easy quiz I know and it goes to show that Kirkgate really is, 'A Shambles'

Who the hell is Harbinger?

So! What's been going on since I've been away? Mr Broon was shot down in his prime by the Eton Rifles - who'd have thought it? The Eurozone has gone in to meltdown - who'd have thought it? And the end of the world wasn't quite so 'nigh' as we were led to believe - who'd ...........

Ripon cathedral has some lovely new glass doors and some flower planters. Well done them.
The lovely old Well's building is finally being brought back to life after how many years?
And we have a new mayor. No......wait a minute........It's Andrew 'Andy' Williams, the oleaginous crooner who's 'turn' has unfortunately come round again.

 Here he is at a recent concert in aid of 'Andy', with his new backing group, 'The Serviettes'

'Andy's' desire to do nothing, with a chain round his neck, knows no bounds it seems, and it has even reached the attention of 'The Gruaniad':

http://www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2012/jun/19/olympic-torch-olympics-2012  More about this later.

The all new, slightly smaller, slightly bigger, but almost empty Ripon Gazette's laudable campaign to free Gregg's doughnut  has it seems, stalled, as the hapless comestible still languishes in clink without charge:

From what we can gather from Gregg himself, the doughnut is being held in cells at the old prison behind the cathedral. 'He is being reasonably well treated', said Gregg, 'but he has lost a lot of jam'.

Harbinger will be investigating the case and if necessary contacting Amnesty.

There are some sad losses to the town: Great Northern Wine is no more, the short lived Cafe Flo in Kirkgate has sprouted wings and er.....Flo wn, and the oleaginous crooner Andrew 'Andy' Williams has  left office as Ripon mayor..........Oh no; wait a minute.

On the up side we have a new wine bar on Duck Hill in the shape of 'Scoffy's', a smart new cafe is about to open its doors in the aforementioned Well's building in Fishergate and Harbinger hears that a new bar and grill will open soon in a 'tippetytop secret' location on the market square. Ooooooh!