Team Greater England

I'm bored with Olympics!
This may surprise some but having swimming on the screen for the past week, or so it seems, bores me. If they are not racing at silly speeds they are throwing themselves of diving boards, in pairs mind you, and causing endless tedium worldwide. Now I appreciate that it takes a great deal of effort and skill to come in eighth in any sport, but why fill the screen endlessly with it? I can understand concentrating on 'team GB,' (which as any wise person understands is merely 'Team Greater England') when they are in with a chance, but must we see it all, and then in slow motion?

As you know the I watch the usual BBC hype during these games with interest. 'Our boys' win a medal and it is lauded to the skies, but little is said about the others. Already Italy, Japan and Germany are well ahead in the medal table and they have never been mentioned even in passing as far as I can see. How terrible for 'Team Greater England' if Germany is so far ahead! Poor Englanders! The Englander hates the Germans and the French, usually because they are inferior to them, often just because...well, just because! It's the English way! Actually I think it is because they are descended from them, and recognise their own faults there. Scots of course are pure bloodied Scot with no foreign influence....that we mention.

Also annoying are the commentators. At the moment there is rowing. All those individuals in skulls tearing along a flat stretch of water. I actually like this and always make time for the rowing. Why? I have no idea! However once again we have another commentator on amphetamine screaming away spoiling the calm approach of the chaps doing the work. If there is the slightest chance of one of 'our boys,' a term usually reserved for servicemen in action, winning then the voice gets higher and as the finishing line approaches the decibels turn a man in his forties into a choirboy afraid of the verger. Why do they feel the need to scream and shout? If there is excitement in any sport it can be understood, but the fact is they are encouraged to exaggerate the intensity for effect! The effect is to wish for an outbreak of laryngitis!

While we are on, great disappointment was seen at the 'women's weightlifting.' Now is it just me, but why are women attempting to lift weights greater than your average American? One of 'Our Boys,' was shown several times yesterday struggling to lift the barbell, which I am convinced bent as she lifted it. She failed and we were meant to empathise with her. Why is a woman doing this? What part of her, mentality has failed that makes her desperate to gain fame this way? Now men in this activity is not only worthy but fun also, when they drop the thing and it rolls onto the judges as it did during the Edinburgh Commonwealth Games. But lassies? No, sorry this is not for them. You note I described her as one of 'Our Boys,' I suppose with all the 'muscle building' material she has stuffed into herself, one of 'our Boys' is what she soon will be.


By the way, according to the BBC this is how the medal table looks this morning.
That link gives live BBC coverage for those desperate to have their eardrums bent by some hyperactive, overpaid, expenses wasting, screaming commentator.

Rank	Country	Gold	Silver	Bronze	TOTAL
1	China	16	3	5	24
2	USA	10	8	9	27
3	South Korea	5	6	1	12
4	Italy	4	4	2	10
5	Australia	4	2	6	12
6	Germany	4	1	2	7
7	Japan	3	1	3	7
8	Russia	2	6	3	11
9	Great Britain	2	2	3	7
10	Czech Republic	2	0	0	2

ID ten Error

I was having trouble with my computer. So I called Richard, the 11 year old next door whose bedroom looks like Mission Control, and asked him to come over.
Richard clicked a couple of buttons and solved the problem.
As he was walking away, I called after him, 'So, what was wrong?
He replied, 'It was an ID ten T error.'
I didn't want to appear stupid, but nonetheless inquired, 'An, ID ten T error? What's that? In case I need to fix it again.'
Richard grinned. 'Haven't you ever heard of an ID ten T error before?'
' No,' I replied. 'Write it down,' he said, 'and I think you'll figure it out.'

So I wrote it down: I D 1 0 T
I used to like the little brat.

Feeling Tetchy?

“He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.”

-Winston Churchill

“I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.”

-Clarence Darrow

“I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn’t it.”

-Groucho Marx

“I didn’t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.”

-Mark Twain

“He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.”

-Oscar Wilde

“I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend... if you have one.”

-George Bernard Shaw to Winston Churchill

“Cannot possibly attend first night; will attend second, if there is one.”

-Winston Churchill’s response to George Bernard Shaw

“I feel so miserable without you; it’s almost like having you here.”

-Stephen Bishop

“He is a self-made man and worships his creator.”

-John Bright

“I’ve just learned about his illness. Let’s hope it’s nothing trivial.”

-Irvin S. Cobb

“He had delusions of adequacy.”

-Walter Kerr

“Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?”

-Mark Twain

“His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork.”

-Mae West

Irritable? Me?

Possibly it is the bug that never seems to leave me, or maybe it is just the heredity gene that has planted a tetchy nature within that irked me this weekend, I do not know. Whatever it was made me feel easily annoyed and somewhat peeved. I knew I was peeved when I fixed that old bayonet onto the .303 rifle I keep under the bed 'just in case.' I wandered through town removing some of the irritants, adolescents, supermarket check out girls, young men who play loud (boom boom) music from passing cars, folks who looked at me the wrong way and those little old ladies who never have their money ready when buying things. While this is fun in itself it really does not cure whatever it is that ails the individual, although it makes the streets safer and costs less than the usual method of going through the courts.

My vinegary outlook was not made easier by the mouse not running correctly. I cleaned it, I cleaned it again, and then once more. I changed the mat - twice, and then I slammed it down hard! It broke. So late at night I had no PC. I attempted to use the keys only but I am not very good at this and struggled to get anywhere that way. Only a new mouse would do. This morning I dragged my weary hulk all the way to Argos, the shop not the town in Greece, and spent £2:98 on a new one. The idea of spending what I do not have was not helping my peace of mind but it did bring me to my senses. I stopped yelling at passers by, cleaned the bayonet, and calmed down. Tesco however appears closed, they seem to have run out of check out staff.

I blame this mostly on the bug. But also it opens up thoughts of despair. The tiredness makes small problems loom large, things said get out of proportion and I made an error in allowing my opinion of one individual to be made known to him. "Even a fool is considered wise if he keeps his mouth shut," it says somewhere, I wish I had remembered. So instead of a weekend full of worthwhile activity, and rejoicing at the Heart of Midlothian's wonderful beginning to the new season (a 3-2 thrashing of Motherwell), I was wasting my time wallowing in problems of my own making. Fool! The tiredness persists so I blessed the world around by cancelling the driving lesson this morning. (The local traffic police sent a 'Thank you' e-mail) as I thought I would fall asleep while trundling around and the man objects to having his car crushed up against a wall - I've found. I was right as I have twice drifted into the land of sweet dreams and fell face down into my dinner. better than eating it I suppose......

Beijing Olympics

I'm bored already!
Just gone nine in the morning and so far the breakfast channels are awash with Olympics! Pictures of the crowd rehearsals, of massive firework displays, of athletes choking in the dense atmosphere fill the screen. There is a general air of excited expectancy form all concerned, and we are supposed to be feeling the same joy. I'm not! Those sent to report from China will have reason to be gleeful, depending on how much snake they have had for breakfast. Their only fear is the huge expense account they will attempt to explain away on their return. TV folk seem determined to enjoy the event, whether they mean it or not does not yet seem clear. I suppose that talk of Olympics makes a change from someone with kidney disease, or a celebrity breaking a nail!

We are told repeatedly that this will be a 'spectacular' opening ceremony. If memory serves me right this usually means hours of boring meaningless activity leaving the viewer who cares desperate to understand just what is actually going on! I still lie awake some nights trying to comprehend the goings on at the beginning of the 'World Cup' in France that time. Some dancer had choreographed the opening in such a manner that even the French did not know what was going on! Why bother? 'Spectacular' is this the only word the media can find for 'waste of time?' Come now, an opening ceremony ought to tell us about the nation where the event is held, the participants and what is to occur. A couple of hours at most. Usually it takes half a lifetime and fizzles out just after the beginning. But we will still hear it called 'spectacular.'

For any lazy media folk reading this my online Thesaurus suggests :-

amazing, astonishing, breathtaking, dazzling, dramatic, elaborate, fabulous, fantastic, grand, magnificent, marvellous, miraculous, sensational, splendid, striking, stupendous, theatrical, thrilling, wonderful

Hope this helps! But in the circumstances they could add, boring, puerile, and 'dull as dishwater,' as it would fit quite well.

As to the games themselves well, I may actually watch things like the hammer and the weightlifting, the high jump, some cycling and the rowing maybe. Usually, for no good reason, I watch the boxing here. I am not one for watching great lumps knock bits of one another but find I get involved with this one. No reason why and the Cubans always win. The actual running around the track for days on end bores me rigid. However this time the added attraction of watching them struggle with the gas masks will really put a smile on my face, especially in the marathon! Ah yes, the Chinese have done well in lightening the chemical works like atmosphere to such an extent folk can walk the streets for thirty minutes before being overcome. Well done China!

The streets of course roundabout will be empty of all problems. Those are being beaten to death in labour camps in the distant parts of Mao's empire. Anything that moves outwith the totalitarian despots at the helm will be well hidden from view of the freedom loving visitors to Beijing. I noted one woman this morning, during a break in rehearsals for the opening yawn fest, informing us of the advancement made by Chines economic growth, and how wonderful it all was these days. Apart from sounding like the robot we have seen so often in communist countries she forgot to add that in Mao's days we were starved to death daily, so anything is better when there is food on the table, and stuff those who have nothing among the peasants!

Oh the delights of a totalitarian regime! Which reminds me, George Dubyah Bush is off there now. What he sees will remind him of his legacy in Iraq and elsewhere, although the building in China will at least be still be standing! Communism or Bush? What a choice?

Kaunas 2 Rangers 1. GLORY!!!!!!!!!!

What a glorious night for Scottish football! Yes indeed the arrogant Rangers football club, the club who alongside Celtic football club, dominate the SFA, the Media and, even worse, the referees, have suffered the worst defeat imaginable, and how Scotland rejoices!

Consider this, Kaunas are Lithuanian Champions. Their nation prefers basketball to football and the club have crowds of no more than a thousand or so, Rangers on the other hand claim nearly fifty thousand attend their ground, at least when all is going well. Consider also the owner of Kaunas football club, the much maligned Vladimer Romanov! Indeed the man who owns the Heart of Midlothian also has his hands on kaunas, and this club has fed many players to the Hearts over the past couple of years. Indeed some have been worth having, but not all. Romanov has suffered badly at the hands of the Glasgow dominated press because he spoke out in a way that offended their hold over the nation. Certainly he went over the top on occasions but to indicate a belief that the SFA and referees were giving subtle (subtle!) support to the old firm, and recieved support from the Glasgow based media, who make money from the Old firm fans, was a call well recieved by fans of many clubs. All Scots clubs have memories of biased decisions which have gone against them during games versus the old firm. Far too many to consider this coincidence. Therefore the idea that this little club should defeat the 'mighty Rangers' is one that brought cries of joy throughout the country. Every club has been lifted by the defeat of the blue bigots and every fan now finds themselves rejoicing uncontrollably! Whether Vlad has stopped laughing yet is worth considering. I doubt however that the 'Daily Record' or the 'Scottish Sun' will mention Vlads tears of laughter.

Naturally this does have an effect on the 'co-efficient' and could affect the number of clubs entering European competition in the future. This is sad, although Aberdeens great run in the Uefa competition last season will certainly help. It is unlikely that Queen of the South, a first division side, who qualified from being cup finalists and pushed Rangers all the way there also, whether they can go far is debatable. At least they will hold their heads up whatever happens.

Somewhere it says 'Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, or the Lord will put on you his fall.' I accept this, but in this case I consider it worth the risk!

Humour

I came across an old video featuring Spike Milligan before an 'invited audience.' This was shortly before he died and he was very funny, as he often was. He is of course one of those responsible for my twisted humour. As a lad I used to sit with my head against the gramophone while listening to 'The Goons,' 'The Glums' or 'The Billy Cotton Band Show' on a Sunday afternoon. What great times they were in those days of long ago! The whole country would be also listening to these matinees and laughing their heads off. Later we added the Ferranti television set that we acquired in 1958. By turning the large knob on the front we could receive two, yes two, channels! On Sunday afternoons films were shown, at least ten years old I believe and most well over that! But we watched the black and white action quite happily. I confess had I to watch such movies today I would be violently sick! It's amazing what a young mind will accept without thinking. The attitudes shown have coloured my life ever since, hopefully I have lost them now. However every so often there were films not only worth watching but that will live for ever! Foremost among them were Marx Brothers films and the 'Road' movies made by Hope and Crosby. Such films contained the fast moving repartee that I admire, and strangely have discovered this attitude appears in most places where I have been employed. Possibly this explains my constant moving from one job to another and my lack of references therefrom I don't know.

The anarchy of the Marx Bros and the fast one liners from Hope were new to UK audiences before the war. Our humour had a different slant to it but Tommy Handley made a meal of fast paced one liners during the war in his wireless programme 'It's That Man Again!' Today his scripts are totally unfunny but to a nation standing alone while the rest did their best to avoid the obvious it gave heart. While German radio spoke of 'England (racists!) faltering' those that dared to listen into the BBC heard nothing but laughter! The war left its mark on those who were to become the entertainers for the next thirty years. Most had served, some had suffered, like Milligan had from being mortared, and all wanted to get away from the military authoritarian society. A revolutionary attitude prevailed. 'The Goons' were probably more radical in their humour than most!

So many other things have influenced me that sometimes I wonder what I would have been like without them. However I expect my sick black half wit would out. This can of course upset some folks, especially when they have little sense of humour or are too full of themselves. Sometimes they need a laugh, other times a good slap is more desirable. While working in the Royal Infirmary in 1974 a very tall lass was admitted and the nurse muttered sympathy for her height. 'At least she will get a long lie in the morning' I ventured, but was not admired for it. Making a 'slap' gesture to the backside of one young lady meant I was loudly warned off by another. Simply mentioning that the first lassies was half the size of the one protesting enabled the first to take my side, and the second to turn needlessly violent. Well, she was Irish. Talking to some of her friends after my sister died I mentioned it was the first time I had seen her with her mouth closed and received only querulous stares. I suppose stepping out from the usual routine is wise only with folks who know you well.

The fact is humour is Gods gift to us all. It relaxes us after stress, releases pent up emotions and allows those in difficulties a way of escape from their troubles. Eastern Europe was awash with humour, an escape valve for those who could not overcome the dictatorship that ruled them. Front line soldiers used black humour to prevent themselves going mad with the strain of trench life, shaking hands with arms jutting out from the sides of the trenches. Wit enables pupils to absorb what is being taught, because if it is dull learning is difficult. We remember better that which we enjoy. Wit can prevent diplomatic incidents. During the Cold War Harold Macmillan,the UK Prime Minister, was speaking at the United Nations. Kruschev resorted to his latest tactic of removing his shoe and pounding the desk in front of him. A tense silence filled the hall, with the Cold War at its height any wrong reaction could lead to a diplomatic 'incident.' “Can we have a translation of that?” said Macmillan, and the whole place rocked with laughter! The tension ended, Kruschev was put down, but nicely, and he stopped the shoe thumping.

Humour can be used to be hurtful, and we all laugh at our enemies to make us feel better. Not always is it necessary. Cynical humour has been commonly seen in recent days in the UK, but often used to attack others rather than as wit to expose their faults and build something worthwhile. There is no point in satirising a politician if you have nothing positive to offer in his place. No point in joking about people unless you aim to like them or get the best out off or from them.

There again, laughter is the best medicine and whatever the problem finding humour in it can aid the body keep healthy. We are made to laugh and smile but we spend our time frowning. Surrounded by plenty we complain of what we lack. Half the folks in hospital suffer because of diseases caused by stress. The body responds to happiness and disintegrates under stress. Oh dear, I think I ought to have looked in the mirror before writing that. Oh dear oh dear.........

An American decided to write a book about famous churches around the world.
He bought a plane ticket and took a trip to Orlando, thinking that he would start by working his way across the USA from South to North.
On his first day he was inside a church taking photographs when he noticed a golden telephone mounted on the wall with a sign that read '$10,000 per call'.
The American, being intrigued, asked a priest who was strolling by what the telephone was used for.
The priest replied that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 you could talk to God.
The American thanked the priest and went along his way.

Next stop was in Atlanta. There, at a very large cathedral, he saw the same looking golden telephone with the same sign under it. He wondered if this was the same kind of telephone he saw in Orlando and he asked a nearby vicar what its purpose was.
She told him that it was a direct line to heaven and that for $10,000 he could talk to God. 'O.K., thank you,' said the American.

He then travelled all across America, Africa, England, Japan, New Zealand. In every church he saw the same looking golden telephone with the same '$US10,000 per call' sign under it..

The American decided to travel to Scotland to see if Scots had the same phone.
He arrived in Scotland and again, in the first church he entered, there was the same looking golden telephone, but this time the sign under it read '40 pence per call.'
The American was surprised so he asked the minister about the sign.
'I've travelled all over the world and I've seen this same golden telephone in many churches. I'm told that it is a direct line to Heaven, but in all of them price was $10,000 per call. Why is it so cheap here?'
The minister smiled and answered, 'You're in Scotland now, son - it's a local call'.

Old Jokes

Paddy is driving home after downing a few at the local pub. He turns a corner and much to his horror he sees a tree in the middle of the road.

He swerves to avoid it and almost too late realises that there is yet another tree directly in his path. He swerves again and discovers that his drive home has turned into a slalom course, causing him to veer from side to side to avoid all the trees.

Moments later he hears the sound of a police siren and brings his car to a stop. The officer approaches Paddy's car and asks him what on earth he was doing.

Paddy tells his story of the trees in the road when the officer stops him mid sentence and says, "Fer crying out loud, Paddy, that's yer air freshener!"

Tom, a loving husband, was in trouble. He had forgotten his wedding anniversary and his wife was really ticked off at him. She told him, "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in under six seconds, AND IT BETTER BE THERE."

The next morning, Tom got up really early. When his wife woke up a couple of hours later, she looked out the window, and there was a small gift-wrapped box sitting in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe, ran out to the driveway, and took the box into the house. She opened it, and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Tom is not yet well enough to have visitors.

Reverend Boudreaux was the part-time pastor of the local Baptist Church, and Pastor Thibodaux was the minister of the Congregational Church across the road. They were both standing by the road, pounding a sign into the ground, that read:

'The End is Near! Turn You self Around Now! Before It's Too Late!'

As a car sped past them, the driver leaned out his window and yelled, 'You religious nuts!'

From the curve they heard screeching tires and a big splash...

Boudreaux turns to Thibodaux and asks, 'Do you think maybe the sign should just say.....
'Bridge Out?''

There once was a religious young woman who went to Confession.
Upon entering the confessional, she said, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
The priest said, "Confess your sins and be forgiven."
The young woman said, "Last night my boyfriend made mad Passionate love to me seven times."
The priest thought long and then said, "Squeeze seven lemons into a glass and drink the juice."
The young woman asked, "Will this cleanse me of my sins?"
The priest said, "No, but it will wipe that smile off of your face."

There was a man from Aberdeen who had worked all his life, had saved all of his money, and was a real miser when it came to his money.

Just before he died, he said to his Aberdonian wife...'When I die, I want you to take all my money and put it in the casket with me. I want to take my money to the afterlife with me.'

And so he got his wife to promise him , with all of her heart, that when he died, she would put all of the money into the casket with him.

Well, he died. He was stretched out in the casket, his wife was sitting there - dressed in black, and her friend was sitting next to her. When they finished the ceremony, and just before the undertakers got ready to close the casket, the wife said,

'Wait just a moment!'

She had a small metal box with her; she came over with the box and put it in the casket. Then the undertakers locked the casket down and they rolled it away. So her friend said,

'Girl, I know you were not foolish enough to put all that money in there with your husband.'

The loyal wife replied, 'Listen, I'm a Christian; I cannot go back on my word. I promised him that I was going to put that money into the casket with him.'

You mean to tell me you put that money in the casket with him!?!?!?'

'I sure did,' said the wife. 'I got it all together, put it into my account, and wrote him a cheque.... If he can cash it, then he can spend it.'

A blonde woman was speeding down the road in her little red sports car and was pulled over by a woman police officer (also a blonde). The cop asked to see the blonde’s driver’s license. She dug through her purse and was getting progressively more agitated. “What does it look like?” she finally asked. The policewoman replied, “It’s square and it has your picture on it.” The driver finally found a square mirror, looked at it, and handed it to the policewoman. “Here it is,” she said. The blonde officer looked at the mirror, then handed it back saying, “Okay, you can go. I didn’t realize you were a cop.

I was depressed last night so I called the Samaritans.
Got a call center in Pakistan .
I told them I was suicidal.

They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.....

Maida Vale Hospital

It's funny how some things stick in the mind. For instance I spent almost twenty years in the same hovel in London and many a time the building has come into my dreams. It is not an accurate representation of the slum but it is clear where I am. While not appearing during my, much needed, beauty sleep, the above hospital is often in my mind. Dedicated to neurological and nuerosurgical medicine this was my workplace for several years. Looking back I can tell you I have not had a job I enjoyed as much.

Can I point out straight away, just to avoid any confusion, I was not a surgeon. No I failed in that regard, indeed I was not even a doctor if truth be told. The year I spent working as an orderly on the trauma ward at Edinburgh's Royal Infirmary proved that I had not the necessary for nursing. Just as well as I am sure I would have killed someone! However, while in London I took advantage of the offer of a porters job in this place. Then from 1975 until 1981 , with a few months out during the heatwave of 1976, I served my time in this place. An excellent job in a small hospital as I got close to all the patients without endangering them, and enabling me to see life as it is up close. I wish I was there now! Not that this can be as Maggie Thatcher closed the crumbling building down in the eighties, a habit she seemed to develop after that.

It is surprising how enjoyable a job can be when all around folk are suffering, and often dying, from some of the worlds worst diseases. MS or Parkinson's, brain tumours and a wide variety of accidents came through the door. Some patients became friends as they returned all to often to visit the outpatients as their disease progressed, if 'progressed' is the right word? Some of course came in as emergency admissions from other hospitals. Nothing more could be done there and this was their last hope. Many died but just as many lived, one walked out after being seven weeks unconscious! I saw her as she returned for her appointment, a bit of a vegetable we thought, but alive. Young married couple who now had this to contend with. I never found out what happened afterwards, but it would be tough for some years for them. Some couples were brought closer together by the suffering of one partner, and the care offered was good to see. Those with Multiple Sclerosis could look forward to a further twenty or so years of this. How did they cope?

I look back on this job happily because I liked the idea of doing something worthwhile and I worked with some excellent people. People of course make the job, and all to often break it. Any job can be enjoyable, however boring or difficult, if those around you make the most of it. 'Black humour,' much used in the UK, helps here. Some of you will be aware of that! There are always the lazy,the troublesome, and the difficult in every job, MVH was no different there. But I remember most of them with affection, especially the pretty girls who abounded there. The only question is how did they resist me, and so often also? Women often surprise me this way.

One night while on lone duty, which meant lounging quietly usually, I pondered on all those who had once passed through the place, doctors, nurses, other staff both important (in their own minds) and others. Who remembered them once they had gone? Some had spent twenty to thirty years working here, often during wars and economic downturns, but meant nothing to those who followed on. It struck me just how unimportant we are in the great scheme of things. We often see ourselves as important while in a job but when we leave we are soon forgotten and life goes on. Some folks do not understand this and cannot comprehend how the place will survive without them. In truth they need the work more than the work needs them. I miss this place. I miss the girls and the patients. I miss a job worth doing and seeing the poignant and the cheery pass by. I wonder if any of them miss me.......?

Funnies!

FROM BRITISH NEWSPAPERS


1) Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, 'We agree it was rather high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house.' (The Daily Telegraph)

2) Police reveal that a woman arrested for shoplifting a whole salami. When asked why, she said it was because she was missing her Italian boyfriend. (The Manchester Evening News)

3) Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van, because they cannot issue a description. It's a Special Branch vehicle and they don't want the public to know what it looks like. (The Guardian)

4) A young girl who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A Coast Guard spokesman commented, 'This sort of thing is all too common'. (The Times)

5) At the height of the gale, the harbourmaster radioed a Coastguard and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied he was sorry, but he didn't have a gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had just blown his Land Rover off the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express)

6) Mrs. Irene Graham of Thorpe Avenue , Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscence of the German prisoner of war who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, she recalled. 'He'd always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946, they spelt out 'Heil ******.'' ( Bournemouth Evening Echo)


A list of actual announcements that London Tube train drivers have made to their passengers...

1) 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologize for the delay to your service I know you're all dying to get home, unless, of course, you happen to be married to my ex-wife, in which case you'll want to cross over to the Westbound and go in the opposite direction.'

2) 'Your delay this evening is caused by the line controller suffering from E & B syndrome: not knowing his elbow from his backside. I'll let you know any further information as soon as I'm given any.'

3) 'Do you want the good news first or the bad news? The good news is that last Friday was my birthday and I hit the town and had a great time. The bad news is that there is a points failure somewhere between Stratford and East Ham, which means we probably won't reach our destination.'

4) 'Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but there is a security alert at Victoria station and we are therefore stuck here for the foreseeable future, so let's take our minds off it and pass some time together. All together now.... 'Ten green bottles, hanging on a wall.....'.'

5) 'We are now travelling through Baker Street ... As you can see, Baker Street is closed. It would have been nice if they had actually told me, so I could tell you earlier, but no, they don't think about things like that'.

6) 'Beggars are operating on this train. Please do NOT encourage these professional beggars. If you have any spare change, please give it to a registered charity. Failing that, give it to me.'

7) During an extremely hot rush hour on the Central Line, the driver announced in a West Indian drawl: 'Step right this way for the sauna, ladies and gentleman... unfortunately, towels are not provided.'

8) 'Let the passengers off the train FIRST!' (Pause .) 'Oh go on then, stuff yourselves in like sardines, see if I care - I'm going home.....'

9) 'Please allow the doors to close. Try not to confuse this with 'Please hold the doors open.' The two are distinct and separate instructions.'

10) 'Please note that the beeping noise coming from the doors means that the doors are about to close. It does not mean throw yourself or your bags into the doors.'

11) 'We can't move off because some idiot has their hand stuck in the door.'

12) 'To the gentleman wearing the long grey coat trying to get on the second carriage - what part of 'stand clear of the doors' don't you understand?'

13) 'Please move all baggage away from the doors.' (Pause..) 'Please move ALL belongings away from the doors.' (Pause...) 'This is a personal message to the man in the brown suit wearing glasses at the rear of the train: Put the pie down, Four-eyes, and move your bl**dy golf clubs away from the door before I come down there and (the rest is censored!)'

14) 'May I remind all passengers that there is strictly no smoking allowed on any part of the Underground. However, if you are smoking a joint, it's only fair that you pass it round the rest of the carriage.'

Paper Lampshades

How long does it take to hang a lampshade? I reckoned this would take a few minutes. All I had to do was remove the previous dust encrusted creatures, dead beasties and all, and shove the new ones in place. Wrong! Taking the old yellowing (were these yellow to begin with?) shades down was easy enough. Except from falling of the bed in one instance and almost of the couch with the other. What? Ladder? Tsk! Real men don't need to go to all that bother. Once I had removed the old ones I dumped them aside where they can be cleaned and either donated to the charity shops or the dustman, depending on what is left of them. I then began the endurance test that is assembling a paper lampshade and fixing it in place.

The helpful instructions warn you to be careful not to rip the paper, as if we need be told. They do not indicate that inserting the metal (Convex 'B') expander inside the lantern is almost impossible without tearing something somewhere, including muscles in the fingers. Once the (Convex 'B') is embedded in (eyelets 'A') and all is secure it merely requires attachment to light fitting. Simply reach up and ensure the flex is threaded through the 'C' shaped clip. This was easy peasy. I knew this would be a quick job. Then I realised I could not get the (energy saving) light bulb inside it! I pushed it from the bottom, after struggling to get the thing through the gap without tearing the paper or any more finger muscles. However I could not reach the fitting, so with the other hand I forced the shade further up the flex to bring the thing closer. After a lot of cursing it came closer but would not fit in! My long slender fingers, ideal for a pianist or a pickpocket I suppose, struggled and sweated and burnt until the two parts came together. They would not actually enjoin, but the touched and that was a victory I thought. By now I was wishing I had kept up the fitness regime as I was stretching beyond endurance. In the course of time the fitting fitted and locked itself into place. I stood, drenched in sweat thinking "I thought it would be cooler in the shade," and considered my need for lunch.

However armed with experience I continued onto the second shade and with better posture, and a lower ceiling, I swiftly, sort off, finished the struggle and sat back and cleared the mess. As I was doing this I chanced upon the instructions. "Insert light bulbs pre fitted before (Fig 4) adding shade." So help me......

He Men!

You may remember the adverts that once adorned so many magazines and newspapers. The slogans, “Are you a seven stone weakling?” and “Do you get sand kicked in your face?” and the like. Charles Atlas offered the chance to develop your physique by use of ‘Dynamic Tension’ and 'Be a man' and this was irresistible to many. As a stick like youth I believed in Charles Atlas and his promise of muscular dynamism, I bought the course! I expected, as promised, that it would arrive in weekly instalments however it came in a large, damaged, brown envelope that must have had the boys at the sorting office laughing. Believe me I know how they laugh at the things that fall out of your envelopes! I of course mentioned nothing about this to my parents and when the package was delivered the smirk on my dad’s face indicated that he had been peeking in through the gaps in the brown envelope. The fact that he said nothing made my embarrassment worse! I stole away into the bedroom and began to practice ‘Dynamic Tension.’

The whole things was a well developed exercise course, if that is the right way to put it, and mostly consisted, in the pages I actually followed, of tensing the muscles in a variety of poses, against one another. It did not last long. I suppose it did not last long for any of the kids who answered the ads, and there must have been many as the ‘Charles Atlas course’ was famed world wide. Many years later I also fell for the, then popular. ‘Bullworker’ which would also develop muscles and for a mere ‘five minutes a day’ at that! Had I put in the effort with this I would now be a muscle bound oaf instead of just an overweight one. The ‘Bullworker’ sits near me as I right and every so often I have a go. It is amazing that after so many years I find I can do less and less on the thing! I suppose the ingrained dust does not help.

Charles Atlas was born Angelo Siciliano in Italy in 1892. Moving to the States among the 'huddled masses' that crowded the steam ships in the early part of the twentieth century. He later developed a passion, or was it obsession, with body building. He claims he attempted many types of exercise systems until he saw an animal in the zoo stretching and he came up with 'Dynamic Tension!' Or so the story goes. His advertisements for his body building system made him famous and the company still exists today enabling skinny young men to dream of punching the lights out of bullies world wide. He wore out in 1972.

This came to mind today for no good reason, although the number of young men with bulging biceps attempting to entice young lassies throughout the nation shows that my reasoning in the past was not mine alone. Which reminds me of the last time I went to Cramond beach where I had sand kicked in my face by a seven stone weakling!

Blue Sky and Sunshine

Yes indeed another day of hot sun and blue sky. At 7:30 this evening the temperature here in the East Wing was 83 degrees. (That's close to 30% for foreign folks.) I have spent much of the day sleeping, eating, reading and everything else in the buff. This freedom is wonderful, especially as the police released me after that incident with the window. I told her it was a mistake. Anyway two hours later and the temp has gone down to 81%. I love this sort of weather! Life is so good when it is warm. Folks are so much happier and much more relaxed. Mind you they complain it is too hot and spend time wishing it was cooler. Naturally tempers flare, families argue and people drink more than is wise, fights break out, arrests are made and all's right with the world. Someone will soon turn it into a soap opera script, unless they already have. What does all this hot weather indicate? Global warming? End of the world maybe? Neither, it just means it is going to rain!

Saturday

So another Saturday turns up unexpectedly. Quite how these days arrive when I still think tomorrows Tuesday I fail to comprehend. But here we are and once again I am struggling with a PC problem. Since reinstalling XP I have had trouble with the sound, that is there was none, now there is some and it is of a very low volume. Once again i am downloading drivers, the same as before, and playing around with cables and what have you. Once again it made a difference, the sound disappeared! Once again we await the drivers downloading, once again I sit in eager anticipation of hearing proper sound. Soon I will know the answer.

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In the meantime let us note the annoyance caused by the constabulary. There was a large marquee tent erected in the park opposite the other day, and in the evening these two cars arrived, disgorging their large stern faced occupants. Clearly some yobs were causing bother at the tent, as yet unused. But would the police inform me of their escapade? No! Not a word passed their gritted teeth. Surely if the police wish help and support from the general public it is imperative that nos..interested parties ought to be kept up to date with their adventures. I informed the shaven headed driver that I could indicate to folks worldwide just how efficient the British (well English) 'bobby' actually is to be informed I could go...well anyway, 'Dixon of Dock Green' would not have said that!

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I noticed that Max Moseley won his case against the 'News of the World.' He had been pictured being whipped by prostitutes dressed as 'Nazi's' apparently and sued the paper that printed the story for invading his privacy. Now whatever you think of folk who undergo such treatment, not for me thanks very much, I always support those who sue the media who invade privacy and make money out of it. Folks private lives, and the sexual problems they have, ought to remain their business and no-one else's, unless a criminal act is involved. Far too many papers fill their pages with the broken lives of the rich and famous, and sometimes talented folks also. If they want to be in the press they can always find a way, but their indulgences they should keep to themselves. So a man in an immoral act, it can be no other, sues a paper that lives on immoral stories, and wins a moral victory. Strange world.

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I mentioned the photographer who took pictures of Ethiopians starving to death recently. It was later I found myself ordering books I cannot afford just because they caught my eye and as I did so I realised I was spending enough to keep some of those folks alive for months. The books arrived yesterday and my guilt deepened with it. 'Conscience doth make cowards of us all,' did someone not say..........

Sunshine

I was going to fill up a few minutes of your empty lives with a few thousand words of bile. But then I realised how good God has been to me, how lovely the world around us actually is! The good Lord has created a wonderful place for us and I thought it better to muse on the good things around us in stead of the bad.

"Consider the lilies of the field" said Jesus, and I have no idea which 'lilies' he meant, "They neither sow nor spin yet even Solomon in all his glory was not dressed like them." And this is true! Flowers come in all sizes, a wide variety of colours and shapes, give off a wonderful fragrance and yet while almost flimsy to the touch they endure all sorts of weather conditions. Plants of various kinds can be found hidden under desert sands, appearing as if by magic when rain falls, some live high in the snows of the mountains and others even survive in Scotland! On top of this they lay an important part in our ecology, if that is the right word, without those little flowers the planet would not survive, and they say we 'just evolved?'

I cogitated on the wildlife around us, partly because passing through the gardens I was disturbed from my daydream by a 'roebuck' which lives there and occasionally races past the unsuspecting. There is a huge assortment of animals around us, from the family cat to the rhino in the local zoo! Such beasts come in all shapes and sizes and have a great many uses for us, and if not we eat them! So at least they have some use. Those animals forbidden to Jews and Muslims appear to be the scavengers of this world, on land and sea. They were banned because what they ate cleaned up the environment around them but did little for your insides, so there was a purpose for them. Try eating a local pigeon today and find out how it would feel.

While it is clear the world can only get worse, overpopulation, shortage of water, routine political instability, famine and natural disasters will lead us in this nuclear age to melt down in a few years, this does not mean there is nothing to enjoy on a day by day basis. Sometimes enjoyment comes with guilt. I felt this today while watching a news broadcast that actually said something! A photographer back from Ethiopia brought pictures of folks starving to death, and in the UK we complained when Gordon Brown said we throw away too much food! We throw away a third of what we buy and millions starve, can this be right? Luckily I have been careful in this regard for some time now, wasting food is awful in such circumstances, but while they starve I am overweight! While we complain about our 'obesity' problem this photographer spoke of sitting before a woman his age dying of starvation, this is 2008 isn't it? 'Tear Fund,' some years ago had a slogan, 'Enough for everyman's need, not for everyman's greed!' I believe it was dropped, maybe someone thought it to 'communistic!'

However, while we do what we ought to help those suffering we enable them to enjoy the world around us. I think it's great, especially in the sunshine. Kids playing happily in the park, fussy mum's scolding them for no good reason, blue skies, flowers and fauna, glares from half naked ladies who do not think old men are the ones who should be looking (close your curtains then hen!), swifts tearing through the sky, screaming as the pass by the window, and an altogether better atmosphere from all around.

Isn't life good?

No Change

No change where my huge weight is concerned. I am eating less, and better, sometimes at least, yet I remain 'overweight. At least the last time I had to go to the doctor, for what I thought was possible skin cancer and turned out to be nothing at all (no wonder men do not run to their GPs! Why do we waste their time for nothing?), he went through the usual routine of blood pressure and weight. He was not keen on stones and pounds, he being one of those men brought up on kilograms, whatever they are. However he agreed I was not the 'fat slob' previous medical men have indicated, merely 'overweight.' This is the nice way of saying 'fat' but not as fat the next man.....who is a 'fat slob' by the way!

I waste precious minutes of your busy time, and as you get older time passes much quicker, I say I waste minutes of your time mentioning this because when I got back from a short walk this morning I weighed myself on the old scales. I discovered that if you put most of your weight on to the left side you only weigh 15 stone 4 pounds. (translate that yourself) so I spent a while at an awkward angle before falling off.

I was tempted out by the warm weather today. In spite of gray cloud cover it was remarkably warm, in fact I had the window open all night, not something folks in Edinburgh would understand I imagine. Not only would they freeze to death some wee ned would attempt to break in and steal life saving equipment, 'I-pod,' 'Mobile phone,' 'digital camera,' 'laptop,' and the like. Those things that life would be impossible without these days. I mean how did we live in the distant past of ancient history, say 1980, when such things were unheard of bar among those who read Sci-Fi? Anyway I walked up hill and down dale, well they were before someone built all those houses on them, passing the ladies returning from dumping the kids in school for the last day before the holidays. How lovely to think that for the next six weeks the streets will be filled with selfish brats blocking every pavement and shoplifting in every other shop in the town.
I would vote for any party that kept them indoors 24 hours a day seven days a week. Except ours of course, but they have had their visit to the vet and our family keep them all on a lead. The rottweiler and pit bulls we let roam free as they are less dangerous.

Ah well, I can't sit here adding weight, I must be off out to the market looking for veg that has fallen of the stalls and opportunities for cheap stuff they are desperate to get rid off. It is also encouraging as most of the stall holders have huge beer bellies. This encourages me as I feel slim beside them and on top of that I notice their men are even worse!

Old Joke

George was admitted to a mental hospital and fell in love with another inmate. George loved the woman so much that when she fell into the pool he jumped in to save her.

Later that day the nurse came into George's padded cell and said, "I have some good news and bad news for you. I spoke to the head psychiatrist and he thinks that your act to save the woman you love from drowning showed that you had good judgement and that you were of sound mind and you will be released from the hospital and can go home. The bad news is that the woman you love has just hung herself in her cell and is now dead."

Upon hearing this George replied, "Oh no she didn't hang herself, I hung her up to dry because she was all wet. When can I leave?"

Now, as you know I never complain, but...

I was watching an old video yesterday, showing Falkirk playing Dundee when both were striving for promotion from the old 1st division. It was a very good game and this surprised me somewhat, especially as the final score was nil - nil. Very enjoyable but as I watched it I was conscious of how mush more irritable I am these days. It seemed to me I was a lot less contentious then and more at ease with the awful world around me. Now I am always grumbling, and usually with good reason. I may be wrong but sometimes it appears there is nothing worthwhile around me, all is sham and emptiness.

Obviously age is one reason for this, as my young friend Mike S. mentioned on his excellent blog, "Auld Reekie Rants,' only yesterday, and his blog is a 'must read' by the way.The music of today is totally mindless, as opposed to the 'world changing' stuff we heard in the sixties. It was 'Make love not war' and 'Peace brother!,' along with 'Get out of Vietnam!' I have to say there was more tea making than love but hey, that's the story of my life! The 'baby boomers' wanted to change the world and we followed the 'spirit of the air' at that time. It was of course a lie, human nature does not change and the 'Hippy' way would not change that' That spirit lies to each generation, and we were fooled just like the rest! But there was a movement away from commercialism and big business, until it became big business and the commercial side took over. The bands tasted fame and fortune and ended up either rich and famous or drugged out of their eyeballs and or working as bus drivers in out of the way places. Today's generation does not feel so gregarious towards others. The world changing is via 'green issues' and that out of fear of no future or trendiness and concern for sex issues, women's rights, gays and Aids. Again often for selfish motives. But are they not just more honest than we, did we not kid ourselves? What changed in the sixties? A more liberal lifestyle, and a more cynical approach, fine in many ways but while there is more 'freedom' how come there is even more in the way of damaged lives? Common sense replaced by political correctness is another aspect of today's world that irks me. For example one council now bans the word 'brainstorming' as this could upset the mentally defective. Such as the one who came up with the proposal I suppose?

The vile seventies removed the best life changing music and allowed 'pap' to reign. West coast music, so full of life and depth was pushed aside instead 'Abba' with their multi coloured lights dancing around them and their fancy costumes brought empty headed meaningless music back to the fore, not that it had really gone away. The development of music in the sixties had changed everything but in the end the public want 'Bread & Circuses' not quality and something meaningful. Trash sells! Thatchers eighties, which brought mass unemployment for many and riches for some, her friends at least, produced a creature with a very different outlook from those brought up in the austerity and 'Build a new Nation' attitude of the fifties. While we 'Never had it so good' (although we never had it at all!), the present generation have always had it and can see no reason not to have more. The music of the eighties, and then the ghastly nineties, reflected nothing innovative but an awful lot of emptiness. Now we have innocuous music, a nation reared on Soap operas and tabloid headlines, who think poverty is not having everything you want!

I just searched the radio channels for some music to hear in the background, and all is 'pap!' However being Saturday I have found some relief in Radio 3 with its Jazz hour or two. That, I really must say is usually good but tonight is a bit dreary, all big band and talk! My luck of course. There is no point in putting the telly on when it is Saturday, not worth while at all. Hold everything, I was wrong! (Copy that for future reference) there is a friendly featuring Liverpool and some foreign Johnny lot in a minute! Phew! Ah a Polish side, this should be OK then.

As Mike pointed out language has changed. Now we all have our 'in speak' in every job or group of people this is normal. However when this involves 'text speak' I am with Mike. What is this all about? My ten year old bra...great niece, forced me onto 'Bebo' because it was her way of communication. Her mother also joins in (whether to watch over her or the other way about I am not sure) and both use text speak! I have to read things three times to work out what they are saying! Well, except when I am rude about 'Jared Leto' their latest hero. (Who is he anyway?) I have become convinced that soon we will return to a use of hieroglyphics as this will be all the brats of the future can understand - pictures and not words! Blogging will be a nightmare then!

But there is hope! 'Stand Free' the Aberdeen Mad football messageboard has a policy of banning text speak. This is to be commended, even if their teams abysmal showing against lower division Peterhead is to be warmly gloated over. Imagine losing four nil - yes 4-0 - to a wee team like that! Ho Ho! Anyway they ban text speak which, while a very good idea, is somewhat diluted by their insistence of speaking the 'Doric!' You see, in the North East of Scotland their version of 'Scots' has grown up with its own influences. Norse words from all those nasty Vikings, Scandinavian influence from the fishing, and general trade with Northern Europe has allowed a different development of language there than say in Edinburgh, where we actually have no accent whatsoever. Friends of mine from Aberdeen talking on the phone to similar folk are totally unintelligible to me.

For instance :
'Fit' is used instead of 'what.'
'Fit's fit and far's the paper?' Means, believe it or not, 'What's what and where is the newspaper?'

'Ftf did that cum fae?' I wonder if you would be so kind as to inform of where that arrived from?

"Yer nae worth yer saat" - You, sir, are ill-deserving of the wages that you command

“Wheeesht min skitterspoot” 'Keep quiet you!'

'Haud yer wheest and stop spikkin keech!' 'Be quite and stop talking rubbish.' I hear this often..

We will not attempt to translate 'dookers!' until I am better informed!

However maybe the 'culture' of the day may not be what makes me grumble. Age may play its part, especially when confronting the emptiness of fashionable life, maybe in the end I am just an old git? Some things never change I suppose.......

Summertime Means Rain!

I am glad I live in the 'driest county' of this country! Had I remained in Edinburgh I would be subject to almost two days rain out of three, but here we have the lowest rainfall in the whole of the UK, or so they say!

Farmers constantly appear on local TV News bemoaning the lack of rain yet the following item will feature miserable holiday makers complaining about the weather! Some folks are never happy!

However it has been very warm in recent days and a few days of normal weather will not do us much harm, unless we happen to be postmen or such like. Today I cycled the ageing bike up and down the old rail line. This was enjoyable as with a drizzle doing its best to spoil the day few were around. I managed to enjoy watching the ducks in the stagnant pond, I knew it was stagnant as they wore gas masks, and spend a few minutes listening to the wildlife singing, cawing or chasing each other up and down the trees around. Simple pleasures but I enjoyed them. By the time I reached home via the simpler type of driver (why do they drive vehicles spouting blue smoke?) and avoided those who park lorries at just the wrong spot, the drizzle was attempting to become rain. It has rained on and off, spoiling the golf, if a game so boring can be spoiled, and causing Colin Montgomery to use words only fit for footballer, soldiers and schoolchildren.

But there is a good side to all this bad weather, I am inside!

Another Day Driving

You will notice there is no instructor in this photo. I eventually got him back in the car with the help of two 'white van drivers' and a farmer. It was not easy I must say. Had we not gagged him his screams may have deafened me before I got past that village with the milk float in a shop window - well it was by the time I got through the village. Anyone can mistake the accelerator for the brake surely?

Anyhow I managed to make it back after two hours of country roads, small towns and some villages. The history buff may be one who is able to understand why roads bend in such a twisted way, but I was not able to work that out, especially at left hand turns of 90% on several occasions. However such bends, in spite of those who park just beyond them, are preferable to the small towns filled with heavy traffic and zebra crossings. I never appreciated just how many different directions needed to be observed when going downhill through a busy town centre. I did gleam that many of the country folks are into in breeding, either that or Halstead has been taken over by aliens. Why should so many folks look identical otherwise? It appears they all need to cross the road at the same time also!

Now I wonder just who decided we need to push down the clutch, change gear, brake, accelerate and turn right while avoiding a woman on the...bonnet, oops, she is off now, all at the one and the same time? Surely these people ought to be kept well away from the roads? Especially when I am passing! However I only stalled once today, after enduring a horrid one way system which he deliberately did not mention we would endure. Just as well!

However we survived, the man is now 'Comfortable' as the hospital nurse said, and I will do it all again next week, but I think we had better find a different route. The council up that way may not want any more of those bent road signs.......