The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post
The latest Phil Evans column from the South Wales Evening Post.
Comedian Phil Evans is from Ammanford. He is known as the man who puts the ‘cwtsh’ into comedy.
www.philevans.co.uk
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Out in the cold:
I read this recently in a newspaper...
Rough sleepers on London’s streets have more than doubled in five years because of a lack of support for people arriving from EU countries; cuts to benefits; a chronic housing shortage; and the “longstanding legal injustice” where many homeless people are not considered a priority for help.
How is this happening in the 21st Century which, in the 1980s, held the promise of a bright, shiny future full of exciting innovations?
While I didn’t really expect we’d be hovering 20 feet above the traffic wearing jet-packs, it seemed possible we might be pedalling Sinclair C5s (£399 in 1985*) to our hi-tech offices to work on state-of-the-art Amstrad computers.
The reality is much grimmer.
Every Welsh town and city has a homeless problem. In London, rough sleepers bed down in shop doorways along The Strand – just feet away from West End theatres, a few hundred yards from Downing Street and less than a mile from Buckingham Palace.
Unseen numbers huddle next to warm air vents at the rear of hotels and restaurants. Many of them sleep during the day when there’s less chance they’ll be attacked.
What a way to live.
Most of them are youngsters whose home lives were so appalling they had no alternative but to run away, while others were drawn to the bright lights of London. They all discovered the grubby reality hiding in the shadows beyond the neon glare of Piccadilly Circus.
There have always been people living on the streets.
Today, they’re called ‘homeless’, but in previous decades they were called tramps and portrayed in newspaper cartoons and TV comedy shows as middle-aged men who wore battered trilby hats and flea-bitten old overcoats. They slept on park benches under newspapers and had crafty ways of finding their next meal.
In reality, many ‘gentlemen of the road’ once had jobs, families and comfortable homes and had fallen on hard times due to marital breakdown, bankruptcy, drink or mental issues.
They wandered around towns and cities, looking in litter bins for fag ends and food scraps.
It only takes a shove or two in the wrong direction from Lady Luck and any of us could fall on hard times.
You might do well to think about that next time you pass a genuine homeless person on the street.
*Sinclair C5s now sell for around £5000. As I rarely use mine these days I’ll consider any reasonable offer....
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Dwbis:
My job takes me far and wide and not often do I find the time to chill out and really relax with friends in a restaurant that gives me the urge to return time and time again.
But on reflection, I think I have discovered it…..
Is this one of Wales’s best kept secrets?
Not far from my home town, there lies a gem of a restaurant called Dwbis in Cross Hands.
Blink and you'd miss it.
What started in 1994 as a take away underwent refurbishment and an extension in 2005 to become a unique Indian restaurant owned by chef Dwbi, who was trained by the best and continues to pass on his skills and expertise to his kitchen staff.
People travel from as far as Carmarthen, Llandeilo and Llandovery just to experience this unique cuisine and warm hospitality.
When you come across something this good, it would be selfish for me to keep it to myself.
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Bending the rules:
There I was, in the five items or less aisle, and the checkout operator stares at me and says, “you have six items there.”
And there was me thinking that we were still in the season of goodwill.
Well that was short lived!
I was determined to stand my ground and appeal to her better nature.
It was only one item over. I thought, let's see if I can turn the argument to my advantage, even though, by this time, my stubborn persistence meant that the manager was now on scene.
Then it came to me in a flash, I leaned over and calmly took hold of the ‘next customer please’ divider that you put between your shopping and the person behind you, and strategically placed it so that it separated my Toilet Duck from the other five items.
I paid for my 5 items, removed my glasses and summoned my best high pitched falsetto voice. “Just the Toilet Duck, please, pet.”
I didn't hear her reply due to the rounds of applause and hysterical laughter coming from the queue behind me….
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You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales and www.philevans.co.uk
Out in the cold:
I read this recently in a newspaper...
Rough sleepers on London’s streets have more than doubled in five years because of a lack of support for people arriving from EU countries; cuts to benefits; a chronic housing shortage; and the “longstanding legal injustice” where many homeless people are not considered a priority for help.
How is this happening in the 21st Century which, in the 1980s, held the promise of a bright, shiny future full of exciting innovations?
While I didn’t really expect we’d be hovering 20 feet above the traffic wearing jet-packs, it seemed possible we might be pedalling Sinclair C5s (£399 in 1985*) to our hi-tech offices to work on state-of-the-art Amstrad computers.
The reality is much grimmer.
Every Welsh town and city has a homeless problem. In London, rough sleepers bed down in shop doorways along The Strand – just feet away from West End theatres, a few hundred yards from Downing Street and less than a mile from Buckingham Palace.
Unseen numbers huddle next to warm air vents at the rear of hotels and restaurants. Many of them sleep during the day when there’s less chance they’ll be attacked.
What a way to live.
Most of them are youngsters whose home lives were so appalling they had no alternative but to run away, while others were drawn to the bright lights of London. They all discovered the grubby reality hiding in the shadows beyond the neon glare of Piccadilly Circus.
There have always been people living on the streets.
Today, they’re called ‘homeless’, but in previous decades they were called tramps and portrayed in newspaper cartoons and TV comedy shows as middle-aged men who wore battered trilby hats and flea-bitten old overcoats. They slept on park benches under newspapers and had crafty ways of finding their next meal.
In reality, many ‘gentlemen of the road’ once had jobs, families and comfortable homes and had fallen on hard times due to marital breakdown, bankruptcy, drink or mental issues.
They wandered around towns and cities, looking in litter bins for fag ends and food scraps.
It only takes a shove or two in the wrong direction from Lady Luck and any of us could fall on hard times.
You might do well to think about that next time you pass a genuine homeless person on the street.
*Sinclair C5s now sell for around £5000. As I rarely use mine these days I’ll consider any reasonable offer....
-----------------------------------------
Dwbis:
My job takes me far and wide and not often do I find the time to chill out and really relax with friends in a restaurant that gives me the urge to return time and time again.
But on reflection, I think I have discovered it…..
Is this one of Wales’s best kept secrets?
Not far from my home town, there lies a gem of a restaurant called Dwbis in Cross Hands.
Blink and you'd miss it.
What started in 1994 as a take away underwent refurbishment and an extension in 2005 to become a unique Indian restaurant owned by chef Dwbi, who was trained by the best and continues to pass on his skills and expertise to his kitchen staff.
People travel from as far as Carmarthen, Llandeilo and Llandovery just to experience this unique cuisine and warm hospitality.
When you come across something this good, it would be selfish for me to keep it to myself.
-----------------------------------------------
Bending the rules:
There I was, in the five items or less aisle, and the checkout operator stares at me and says, “you have six items there.”
And there was me thinking that we were still in the season of goodwill.
Well that was short lived!
I was determined to stand my ground and appeal to her better nature.
It was only one item over. I thought, let's see if I can turn the argument to my advantage, even though, by this time, my stubborn persistence meant that the manager was now on scene.
Then it came to me in a flash, I leaned over and calmly took hold of the ‘next customer please’ divider that you put between your shopping and the person behind you, and strategically placed it so that it separated my Toilet Duck from the other five items.
I paid for my 5 items, removed my glasses and summoned my best high pitched falsetto voice. “Just the Toilet Duck, please, pet.”
I didn't hear her reply due to the rounds of applause and hysterical laughter coming from the queue behind me….
--------------------
You can follow Phil Evans on Twitter @philevanswales and www.philevans.co.uk
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