The Italian job

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to enjoy the sun and suffer
The pains and death from skin cancer,
Or to hide from the burning rays
And grow up with deformed bones,
Like the slum’s kids in Victorian London.

A few days ago I came across some interesting item that was reported in the News*

Yea, the Victorian childhood disease known as “rickets” is making it’s unwelcome comeback. Rickets is a softening of bones in children potentially leading to fractures and deformity, the predominant cause is a vitamin D deficiency.

http://www.birminghampost.net/news/west-midlands-health-news/2008/11/19/rickets-returns-to-birmingham-65233-22290225/

And how do you stock up on Vitamin D?

Simpels, by exposure to ultraviolet B light (sunshine when the sun is highest in the sky).

But apparently, due to the hours of sunshine everywhere north of Birmingham (and no one mentioned in the News whether it would include the city or not), children increasingly suffer from Rickets, especially if they are dark skinned (as that makes it more difficult for the weak rays to stimulate the Vitamin D production in the body) or wear protective clothing for instance for religious reasons (-like the Burqua).

But then - even if the sun breaks through the northern blanket of clouds, you can’t just enjoy the good weather, because exposing yourself to the sun will give you skin cancer, as we all know since we are told every 5 minutes in "summer" (eg when it is a bit lighter during the rainy season).

…sometimes you just can’t win.

*So, you see, it is even for health reasons that I should go to Italy… if that isn’t a sign…

Well, that was interesting, we should do that again... not!

I halfway expected just a clerk to greet me, to go over the paperwork and give the verdict.

But life is always different than you expect, isn't it?

So, when I approached the building, I had a smoke and soon was approached by one other guy who apparently was waiting for the proceedings.

"What are you in for?" the asked conspicuously. A normal friendly question, if perhaps he would not have had a closely cropped hairstyle, big heavy boots and had a face covered in bruises.

"Erm, not paying a fine" I replied timidly.

"Oh, you be ok, mate" he stated generously. "For me it's prison this time for sure."

I suddenly remembered all those prison movies where the lifer advived the newcomer never to ask for why people are in for. So I went for "A long time?"

"Yea, probably."

"Ah."

"So, now I am having a drink before, been on the vodka." as if his breath would not have told me already. I found myself suddenly smoking a lot faster than I normally do.

He then reached inside his jacket, produced a vodka bottle and held it out in front of me. "Want some?"

"Ah, thanks, not just right now." And uups, my cigarette was just reaching the end.

"I better go in." I said.

With a toast of his bottle he waved me off.

And inside the magistrate'c court it did not get any better. There was an abundant amount of people with very short hair, and the occasional tatoo of "Love - Hate" on their knuckles.

I was not even sure what worried me more, my own feeling of relief that I had had a haircut before Easter so I did not stick out like a sore thumb, or the amount of smiling nods I received.

And before long, my new friend came in as well. Seeing his lawyer he whispered to him "Don't tell the court that I was having a drink outside." as if this odour and his uneven walk would not have give that away.

He then meet one of his mates, apparently in for his own trial, and began to talk to him. I did not catch everything, but heard words like "assault", "bodily harm and "bloody Paki" being dropped.

Looking around me I could only think "Oh, my God, let me out of here pleeeese, I am only here because I did not pay a car fine."

But then my name was being called, and the next chaper in the saga began.

It was like on telly, three guys sitting behind a raised table, the Court Clerk and the prosecutor.

While they were all sitting, I had to stand while my details were being confirmed.

Then the plea. "Guilty."

I explained that I just had forgot the renewal date, and that I tought that I had aready paid all I thought I had to pay.

That seem to take the Magistrate a bit by surprise, however the prosecutor rallied fast and said that this was a different matter as the the sums I had paid had to do with the actual non-paymant of the tax, whereas todays matter was about the fact that "the car was seen on the road without being taxed".

So how come that the sum of £30,82 that was mentioned on the court summons was the same as the one I had paid?

A little bit of hesitation on the side of the prosecution, and then the announcement that the prosecution would need to make a phone call and I would have to leave the court for a few minutes.

When I came back, the Magistrate said that they would take into account that I did try to pay the fine in time, and that they recognised that the tax due was paid as well, so the original fine of £100 was being reduced to £40.

Unfortunately, the court would need to ask for the £60 in court proceedings, so the combined sum would cone to, erm, £100- which I would have to pay immediately.

Brilliant!

Well, actually that is was not was I was thinking, that was more along the lines of "daylight", "highway" and "robbery" with images of men hiding their face behind scarfs.

But heyho, this was the law, and so I paid, and was duely dismissed by the court.

And so ended my day in court.