Thursday

This American election. It goes on and on and on filling hours of TV and radio time, and it is not even our election! While it is important and deserves coverage I wonder if we really need so much of it? There are several differences between the manner of electioneering in the US and the UK and the most obvious is the crowd reaction. Any time someone gets up to speak they are met with rousing cheers and much waving of banners. Why? Because there is no opposition, that's why! Each candidate speaks only to his own people, only paid up members (should that read 'donors?) need apply. So the crowd are ready to cheer and cheer they do! Every sentence the hero emits is cheered to the rafters, no matter what he says. "God bless America" brings huge cheers as does "I watched a ball game today," folks still cheer, not because of what is said but because that is what they do. Please, please, give it a rest! In the UK there are meetings for party loyalists, but there are also many opportunities to greet and speak to the public directly. This does not produce wild ecstasy from the loyal, but can receive rousing abuse from the enemy! In the last few years this has lessened considerably but still does produce among the abuse and catcalls the occasional childish egg throwing and on occasions a punch! Such open democracy is rarely seen in the US presidential race. It might add some worthwhile television mind.

Another point while abusing passing Americans must be the women! Why oh why do all American women talk in that high pitched screech? is it not possible to find one with a voice an octave lower somewhere? This latest advert for US democracy is no better. This morning, on both TV and wireless I have been subject to her shrieking tirade against their Democrat opponent. I swear every dog in the district was howling wildly. I ran from channel to channel and she was always there. It was like she was following me around just to satisfy a dominatrix desire to burst my eardrums. I remember a young, jealous, English lass pointing out to all and sundry that Californian girls in bikinis may be attractive and available but they all talked "....in high pitched voices!" She said this in a vain attempt to stop her men chasing the girls. Hmmm.
Please America, if you let the woman talk, turn down the sound!

Just think. If McCain wins the election, this woman becomes vice president. Can I ask you to image the situation if something happened to the President, if he died of a heart attack for instance. This woman would have come out of nowhere, or Alaska, as it is better known, to become the first female President of the United States. Consider the reaction of Hilary Clinton, can you imagine her thoughts? Bwwaaahhhaaahhaaaa! Funny? Oh Yes! Bwahaaahaaa!

Wednesday

Rolling news channels can be very good when there is a story of importance which needs to be told now! Great indeed and very useful for society. However when the story does not add up to much we are subject to a desperate attempt to pad out the time until the adverts (and how!) so someone has to ask dumb questions and receive dumber, and much drawn out, answers. As the day progresses the same faces appear repeating the same drawn out nothingness and repeats of conversations with folks who have only tenuous connections with the main subject have to be endured repeatedly. Kevin Keegan has not appeared, so the talk was entirely speculative. How lucky we are that Alan Curbishley found an excuse to get out of West Ham. Not so important but changes the topic for us.

In between writing for two jobs that do not suit, I don't want and don't want me, and informing the Member of Parliament just what I think of the rip off merchants who are overcharging us for gas and electric I have been indulging in the Sky News repetition. I am so glad I got the video working again. After my early morning bike ride,(just why do I feel so worn out when they tell us exercise makes us feel 'good?') I found time to slouch in front of the TV set and indulge what passed for breakfast. Using 'Freeview' I can get many channels and I amazed at the amount of meaningless tripe that fills the early morning schedules. Thirty year old American cop shows, a variety of talk shows where the lower orders have their broken lives exposed - the modern day 'freak shows.' Who is watching this rubbish? Some of these shows start at six in the morning! Who wants to watch a life destroyed at that time?

Now they are giving us the US election. We are as sick of this as the Yanks must be! We have sat through the Obama v Clinton war, and nobody cared about McCain! Now it is his chance and all they talk about is his unknown running mates daughters pregnancy! Is it six in the morning I ask? Will the loser appear of Oprah or Montel and reveal the family mess? I hope not. I think it is time the Yanks copied our political system, at least it is over in six weeks!

Tuesday

What a wasted day!
I have a list of things written out and so far only one has reached completion.
The rain was a quite heavy this morning and as an ex postman I felt it my duty to respond in the time honoured fashion. This requires that I stand at the window, coffee cup in hand, waving in a cheery manner to all passing postmen. Naturally I intended this action to encourage those who find themselves wrapped up in bright orange Royal Mail uniforms, hoods up and sodden mailbags catching raindrops efficiently. I am not sure they were too encouraged although most waved, in a wide variety of fashions it must be said, and some informed me of their opinions of the day. This I failed to hear as the window was closed to keep the wet out, but I think I understood quite well.

Yet enjoyable as this was it meant nothing was done. Sloth set in, an attempt at job searching failed miserably as a deep depression crossed my mind as wandered through the vacancies, and a desire to read football message boards took over. Even they did not satisfy. However the news that Kevin Keegan was leaving Newcastle was worth taking an interest in. Some folks who buy football clubs have no idea how to run them. This American who bought the club is too keen on show, standing on the terracing with the fans, and too little understanding of the game, he employed Dennis Wise the failed manager of Millwall and Leeds United! The impression is that he has put Keegan in a difficult position, discovered the fans are on Keegan's side and now changed his mind about forcing him out. Poor show all round.

There are other clubs taken over by foreign Johnny's, and two of them are American. Liverpool have well known problems caused by the lack of knowledge of the game possessed, or not, by the two owners. To them it is a 'franchise,' an idea alien to football in the UK, or indeed anywhere else bar the US. This causes friction between them and the manager and will lead to failure before long. Aston Villa however have also been taken over by a Yank yet they are racing ahead with development of the side. A good manager, much cash to bring in players, and already they have climbed the table and will be a real threat to the top four clubs this season. Good management, wise delegation to those who know, and success has a chance. Newcastle and Liverpool need to learn from Villa.

See! It's easy to sort other folks problems. I think I will become a counsellor! Bring me your difficult cases and I will give you common sense answers. What's the going rate? £20, £30? Actually anything over 4 pence would be a start....... Talking of starting, maybe I should restart this list marked 'Urgent' 'Do Now!'

Monday

After returning from the driving this morning I wandered around to the Dole for my meeting with an advisor. Lovely young lady who discussed the work situation and, like all the best women, threatens me if I do not obey. Shoving info re jobs that will not want me, and which are not suitable for my condition (workshy lazy miserable git) under my nose she 'suggests' I contact them in a manner similar to the Russian security police asking an individual to 'help them with their enquires.' Naturally, because I am nice and prefer to keep all my bits attached I will contact them shortly.

There are times I wish I had ignored the doctors orders and kept the postman's job. If I had realised just how hard it would be to find employment I would have struggled on with the problem rather than this! Age, previous employment, and the knee have gone against me more than I realised. Even the temp agencies were not much fun! So here I am, in some ways quite happy to have so much time, which I waste, but glad also because the stress of daily life was telling on me at work. Funny how I didn't realise how much it affected me until I left. i do not feel guilty about non working, although I do about the benefits, not that I take all I could. I do have the feeling that something will arrive soon. Not like what has gone before but a new life. Mind you, I have 'felt' this before, and I didn't win the Lottery then either. That Friday Lottery was worth £110 million! I bought a ticket and remember the joy when the man in the shop said "You're a winner! Here's you're £8.64! Now buy something!"

I am spending £80 a month, from the credit card, in a vain hope this will help me get work. After touching on the edges of the big town this morning (sorry officer) and wondering whether they needed quite so many mini roundabouts, I wonder if I will ever pass the test! The instructor is very good, he has stopped wearing the crash helmet and is now sitting in the front seat again, and is quite encouraging. However I found the clutch and the gas pedal to be in the wrong place often today. maybe he has moved them?

Still, it is the first day of the month so I am off to have the monthly bath, see you in a few hours.

Orissa Update

This link contains information on the Orissa troubles and indicates the desperate nature of the situation for those forced to flee in the forests for protection. While some 3000 police are on the streets it has failed to control the problem. Buildings are still attacked and people threatened attacked and killed. Funny how little of this can be seen on the national news in the UK? The floods in Bihar have had passing mention, why not riots like this?

Orissa Update Video

The photograph is from the 'Sunday Nation.' It is clearly a major event in India yet of no consequence elsewhere.

The Sunday Nation

'The Guardian' 'Hindu Mobs attack Christians.'

Ewart Alan Mackintosh, Scottish Great War Poet.

After an action one of the officers duties was to write to the nearest relative of each deceased soldier, giving a few, often amended, details of their demise. MackIntosh was an officer who like many of his class came very close to the ordinary men who served under him. This reaction between the young middle class officers and the, mostly, working class men began a reaction that changed the class structure in the United Kingdom and left an effect that is still with us. This is one of the most moving examples of an officers attitude from the Great War.

In Memoriam

by Ewart Alan Mackintosh (killed in action 21 November 1917 aged 24)

(Private D Sutherland killed in action in the German trenches, 16 May 1916, and the others who died.)

So you were David's father,
And he was your only son,
And the new-cut peats are rotting
And the work is left undone,
Because of an old man weeping,
Just an old man in pain,
For David, his son David,
That will not come again.

Oh, the letters he wrote you,
And I can see them still,
Not a word of the fighting,
But just the sheep on the hill
And how you should get the crops in
Ere the year get stormier,
And the Bosches have got his body,
And I was his officer.

You were only David's father,
But I had fifty sons
When we went up in the evening
Under the arch of the guns,
And we came back at twilight -
O God! I heard them call
To me for help and pity
That could not help at all.

Oh, never will I forget you,
My men that trusted me,
More my sons than your fathers',
For they could only see
The little helpless babies
And the young men in their pride.
They could not see you dying,
And hold you while you died.

Happy and young and gallant,
They saw their first-born go,
But not the strong limbs broken
And the beautiful men brought low,
The piteous writhing bodies,
They screamed 'Don't leave me, sir',
For they were only your fathers
But I was your officer.

Orissa Violence

It always appears to my mind that it is easy to ensure a violent mob in India. A brief look at the papers there inform us of violence in various parts of that great state caused by religious or political differences. Often the reasons have little to do with the actual complaint and are the result of someone somewhere making use of the variety around them to further their own aims. Human nature often cares little for what damage selfish ambition can do.

There is a conflict between the Hindu nationalists and other religions. Christianity and Islam are seen as 'foreign' and 'non Indian' therefore they ought to be opposed. As always politicians use this as a weapon for advancement. In Orissa trouble has broken out in the past between Christians and Hindu parties. Several were killed before Christmas and many houses and church premises burnt down. On Saturday night a Swami, leader of the VHP (Vishva Hindu Parishad) was shot dead, most claim by a Maoist group. This did not stop the Hindu's using this as an excuse to attack Christians in the state. Again buildings were destroyed and one young woman burnt alive in an orphanage where she worked.

The national government minorities commission declared that the State government had failed to protect the Christian minority, and it certainly looks that this has occured on this occasion also.

India, one of the leading nations in the next hundred years has an appalling record of human misery regarding minority groups and needs to remember the secular status of the Indian Constitution. The situation in which, laggardly, the authorities eventually make an effort to control the situation is unacceptable. It is time for central government to step in and take control. How many more must die in needless violence for the sake of political ambition in Orissa?

Times of India

January Riots

Orissa Govt Failed to Protect Christians

Cath News

Driving Essex Roads

Much to my surprise the driving instructor phoned yesterday and offered a lesson today, a bank holiday. Having missed two in a row because I was dying from the ever present filthy bug that refuses to leave me, in spite of medicines, prayer and cursing, I was pleased to have a go! As it was a day off for the world I rather hoped the roads would be empty, wrong! it appears that the day brought many out. Cyclist clubs were found in groups of seven or eight blocking roads wherever they could, motorcyclists, who love the windy roads, gather at Finchenfield, 'England's prettiest village' they say. It is lovely indeed but full of all sorts of bikers filling The Fox,' and I had to go through them. The village contains a pond, ducks, the pub and an overpriced antique shop, and also an ancient bridge over the stream. This I had to cross twice, and you only have priority one way. Naturally as I approached some nyaff shoved through and nearly caught us. As there was only an old wifey on the bridge coming back I didn't bother to slow down - she can swim quite well you know!

For two hours I crunched the gears along these pretty roads, passing all sorts of aged cottages, many thatched, all brightly painted and probably very attractive when the sun shines, and only twice did I come across Mr Impatient. On the first occasion he raced past just as I glanced in the mirror thinking, 'Only a fool would...' and he did! Later I was trailed by a lass in a red 'Micra.' That's a car, not a skirt, and I noticed a sensible gap between up. Then along he came in his black Willie extension and I noticed him force his way between us. This often happens when I am near women. Naturally I thought it was the police, it usually turns out to be. Anyway just as we approached a hill with a bend he went for it. Whether he noticed the car coming over the top I don't know but he made it, just! Already I am amazed at the patience of most who drive and the foolishness of others.

Still, it was fun today. The back streets are enjoyable, although the sharp right and left turns through villages, the cars parked in exactly the worst spots in said places, the occasional tractor and junctions round which it is impossible to see - and not helped when you leave the handbrake on - do keep you awake. I write this simply because since I returned I have still got the road flashing in front of me. Like my life, it takes longer to flash past than it used to.


The picture is found on an excellent site called Rural Roads. Well worth a look.

Sunday

I awake this morning to the wind shaking the trees, the roads wet, and gray clouds hanging over the whole country. This can only mean one thing, this is a bank holiday! Yes indeed the nation has a day off and celebrates by shopping for a new umbrella! However I see no use for a brolly when the wind is blowing as it is difficult to control and pokes folks in the eye. In such circumstances you will realise that lots of women are wandering past carrying umbrellas and poking passers by in the eye. There are war zones that are safer than street round here when it rains! Naturally, by the time I have written that the rain has stopped, the streets are beginning to dry, and the queue at the Accident and Emergency (Optical) department is lessening.

The August Bank Holiday events will continue rain or shine, the trips to the seaside, days out at overpriced 'fun parks,' including too much fattening 'fast food.' The Notting Hill Carnival (which I endured for many years) will continue to fill the area with lorries packed with steel bands featuring many instruments and absolutely no talent whatsoever. Speakers will be piled high on street corners and the volume turned up so loud it distorts whatever is coming though them. Half naked girls will dance in front of the visitors while their wallets will be picked by said lassies boyfriends, fun and laughter for all - bar those who actually live there! I look forward to Mondays main parade, the near naked girls freezing in the rain, the police waxing lyrical about their overtime and the locals glad of the chance to disappear to the sodden coast.

Yes I am miserable today. I woke tired, the coffee made me edgy, the weather chills me and the chance to win £14 million pounds on the lottery failed completely. This ruined my house buying in warm, sunny Greece, and did little for my buying bread and milk here, having spent the appropriate money on the failing ticket. Bah Humbug! Not that being rich makes you happy of course. I guess as many rich folks kill themselves as do poor ones. Sickness and divorce, fire and flood affect one and all irrespective of wealth. However I would have liked the chance to risk it.
I avoided all the churches around here again today, the fear of slow handclapping someone put me off. Strange some of these places. The problem with a small town is that too many have been connected to one church for generations. One recent Congregational member was a great nephew of the famous Charles Haddon Spurgeon (who was born near here). He and others had been members for possibly two hundred years. It does not lead to openness I fear. Especially when I once belonged to the lunatic fringe of Christianity! Coming here and visiting the Baptist Church was like going back to 1964!

Good news however, the Olympics is about to finish! The absurdity of London spending millions on this in four years time is taking my breath away. Especially when they are determined to enter a 'Great Britain' football side! Another example of English arrogance and ignorance towards Scotland and Wales! The English F.A. top man has stated 'There will be a 'Team GB' side at the 2012 Olympics, whether Scotland, Wales or Northern Ireland join in or not!" Now if that is not racist I wonder what is? Scotland should insist on entering their own side. If they treat us as 'Greater England' it is time we stood up. Only Rangers fans could disagree.

At least the BBC can now go back to routine programmes. Hold on, I see a problem there, don't you?

Saturday Night

Saturday night and nothing to say. However these are worth a smile.

When I die, I want to die like my grandfather-who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.”

-Author Unknown

Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: “Take two aspirin” and “Keep away from children.”

-Author Unknown

“If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant’s life, she will choose to save the infant’s life without even considering if there is a man on base.”

-Dave Barry

“My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, ‘Mom, they weren’t trying to teach you how to swim.’”

-Paula Poundstone

“A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study: “Duh.”

-Conan O’Brien

“Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I’m halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God…. I could be eating a slow learner.”

-Lynda Montgomery

“If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead.”

-Johnny Carson

“Sometimes I think war is God’s way of teaching us geography.”

-Paul Rodriguez

“Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Parliament.. But I repeat myself.”

-Mark Twain

“Our bombs are smarter than the average high school student. At least they can find Afghanistan.”

-A. Whitney Brown

Do you know why they call it “PMS”? Because “Mad Cow Disease” was taken.

-Unknown, presumed deceased

All Quiet on the Western Front

All quiet on the Western front as they say when all is quiet on any front. It just shows how the Great War still affects us daily. Mind you that is not what I was thinking of for once, I was just thinking it is all quiet, on every front! In other words I have nothing to say. I searched all around my tiny mind and came up with nothing of use for posting. This may not annoy the wide world out there but it does annoy me when I am in the mood to scribble something down her. I sit with my fingers typing an imaginary keyboard struggling to find words to match their eagerness. It was worse when I found myself doing this as I came through the High Street, some woman got the wrong idea and it took ages to shake her off.

I could mention the 'spam' that floods through to the 'Mailwasher' each morning. Around forty today at one time or another. The usual stuff, credit reports, false bank 'phishing' efforts, 'Canadian meds,' which would end if the Yanks had a proper health service of course, and the 'willie extenders' and such like. I had six at least today saying, 'Improve your sex life.' This one has come several times a day for weeks now, always from a different address. I clicked on it once and it read 'Use your other hand!' Typical!

I found a couple of supermarket lassies who laughed and joked in the past day or two. One smirking because the fellow before me was so miserable - and he was! We discussed how life is so much better when everyone is miserable at the same time, all those cheery folk with smiles and grins really do depress one don't they? So we giggled away,annoying the folks waiting behind. She was the second cheery lass in Tesco's. The first had refused to come and cook my dinner, and she is not the first to do that I can tell you, and cheerily added "Don't burn it" as I left. As if!

There again I made Flanders Soup today. I chucked in everything veg like that I could find, added a couple of chicken stock cubes (and water) some cayenne pepper, lit the fire under the pot and stood well back. I recalled the time my Dad, my brother and my brother in law cooked the soup when everyone else was out of the house. They of course all claimed they could manage this task, but admittedly were not used to such chores. They burnt it! I think this may have been something to do with the photograph. The photo of my brother in law at the sink with every plate and pot and most of the kitchen equipment surrounding him. This attempt to make him look 'put upon' took so much commitment that they forgot the soup which burnt. Mum was pleased!

I notice they have put one of those planning placards up on the fence opposite. The Council is planning to fill the park opposite with drunken music. I looked it up on their website and LO! I can find it nowhere! How unusual. I will have to go back across and copy the details so I can complain. They tried this with the kids at the skatepark once. The music shook the house and I considered using the axe for real! I wrote several letters and mentioned the legal outcome if it happened again, and so far it has not recurred. Time for a new letter, if I can find who to object to. Not that it matters, they have already decided and residents opinions are of no relevance. I will mention the next elections mind.

'All Quiet' was a good film, somewhat devalued as the author spent little time at the front and many who did considered it less than accurate. It is worth a look just to get a 'feel' for the conditions mind. Which reminds me, I must write that book on the Great War. I started it about seven years ago and have nearly finished the first page. I will look it up, but it might need a rewrite I bet.

Superstitious Footballers

I was listening to an ex player talk about his superstitions before a game. There were certain actions that had to be completed before each game or in his mind all was lost. This reminded me of others, such as Paul Ince, once an England footballer (and what more need you know to realise he was a failure) and now manager of Blackburn Rovers, who put his shirt on only when halfway down the tunnel entering the field of play! Ally McLeod wore his 'lucky brown suit' each week when Ayr United were promoted. He was still wearing it when they got relegated twelve months later. Larent Blanc, the French international, before kick-off would kiss the shining bald head of team mate Fabien Barthez, supposedly for good luck. I hope it wasn't for any other reason? Others only wear certain colours. One player listens to the same CD each week driving to the ground (and how boring by seasons end) and has to sit in the same seat on the bus travelling to away games – all to bring him good luck. What does he do when injured, does he change seat? No, I think he just gathers his wage slips around him and smirks. I would.

Now in among those who only wear the 'lucky' number or carry a small 'good luck' mascot, surely there is one who thinks this is all daft? I can understand players following a certain routine while preparing themselves for a game, that keeps you relaxed and settles the mind. Trusting your performance to wearing the same shin pads you bought as a fifteen year old may not be as effective as getting out there and just doing your job! If you ask these men, "Do you believe in God?" They will probably all grin and say "No, that's daft" Then they will spend ten minutes folding and refolding their shirt, or making sure their teddy bear mascot is sitting in their right shoe, or using the 'special lucky Biro' to sign autographs, just for 'luck!' Did you realise that there are few philosophers or academics amongst footballers?

While saying all this I do remember Jim Cruickshank the great Heart of Midlothian goalkeeper wearing the green jersey on many occasions and it always turned out to be a bad day. He took to wearing an All black outfit, and the results improved, usually. However on one occasion we borrowed some shirts from the Donald McLeod the Hearts assistant trainer (as they were then) and he gave us one of the 'green' goalie shirts. Suffice to say I wore it and let in at least eight goals. I can't remember much else about that day, the knock on the head, from one of my own side, took the memory away. I do remember it was a long walk home from Penicuik as for some reason they all went off without me.

Abandoned Tube Stations

For some obscure reason I love abandoned stations. In fact I like lots of abandoned, derelict old buildings. Possibly it is the sense of history, imagining those who once passed though such places, or maybe the bang on the head when I fell of my bike when I was a kid, I don't know which. But I do find old things interesting. No I don't refer to the incident with that old girl in accounts that time, I mean buildings and places where folks once went about their business. The tube is one such place.

The picture above comes from a fabulous website called 'Abandoned Tube Stations,' a well chosen name I would say. Featuring the history and many photographs, of stations no longer in use, although still utilised by the Underground themselves for storage etc, it is an excellent way to visit those stations many of us have passed through and wondered about.

Marlborough Road station is pictured above. I often used to travel up this line and was intrigued by this place. Why was it disused, and could I ever visit there. Well I never got a close look but this man has. The station building now is in use as a restaurant, possibly still a Chinese one, and the building was once the home of Thomas Hood, author of the poem, "I remember, I remember the house where I was born." He then waxes lyrical about his garden, something he would find difficult today for instead of potatoes in the veg beds and grass to run around on there is a deep hole and rather a lot of Metropolitan Line trains running through there instead. Mind you, most boys would rather like that!

As they are no longer used it is possible for these places to become time capsules and preserve various periods for those who know where to look. Used as air raid shelters during the second world war, not that the government wanted that, but public pressure made it inevitable, evidence of this can be seen where notices on the wall remain pointing to the 'shelter,' or such like. Elsewhere adverts for goods long since unavailable remain. On occasion refurbished to their original standard they appear in television and movies set in the past. To my mind the station is often the only part of the programme that avoids the 'tour de force de overacting' usually associated with such programmes, in my humble (but right) opinion of course.

There are other sights with other photographs available on this subject and I find them all fascinating. Partly because I have been there but also because they exist. Don't you feel the same?

The Male Agony Aunt

Dear Walter,

I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help. When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbours daughter. I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbours daughter is 22. We have been married for ten years.

When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant. He won't go to counselling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.

If he leaves me for her I won't be able to look after our two young children and keep up my job, so I will become dependant upon the state, and that is something I am desperate not to do.

I thought we had a good sex life, and although not as frequent as in our younger days, I didn't know he was unhappy. I keep the house clean and tidy , and prepare the meals as he likes them. He always has clean, ironed clothes, and we go out quite regularly to concerts or for a meal. I though our life was perfect.

This other girl concerned is so much younger and more attractive than me, I feel I can't compete with her, and although I keep in shape, having had two children by him, my body is not what it once was. I never realised he felt this way about me though, and I now find myself looking in the mirror and not liking what I see. I am so depressed I may just take a few pills and end it all. I don't know what to do.


Can you please help?

Sincerely, Sheila

******************************

Dear Sheila:

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.

I hope this helps,
Walter

Man's Knowledge

Man's knowledge is a wonderful thing! Man can invent computers so powerful they make mistakes faster than a thousand George Dubyah Bush speeches can ever dream of doing. However wise men also know why they go wrong. Dan at Oddness blog has shown that I was right in fearing there was a problem posting on Blogger. It is refreshing to find such helpful folk on the Blog Cosmos. I post this detritus in the happy knowledge that when I post I can expect it to end up more convoluted than it began.

At the top there is the latest 'IBM Electronic Calculator,' that is helping "...business, industry and the Armed Forces get the answers...fast." I would have thought business and industry were one and the same myself, but maybe not in the eyes of a New York marketing executive in July 1951. A very good month for the world I must humbly tell you as a whispered aside. The lady wearing enough skirt to supply several wardrobes to the youthful slappers filling the high street today does not convince me she actually knows how to work the lumbering machine, however I am sure her men were willing to keep her in chewing gum and stockings.

Computers, or in reality fancy calculating machines were first brought into action during the war. Tony Sale developed the Colossus machine to help break the German codes in 1943. The Yanks of course claimed they developed one first, don't they always, but their machine, also built in 1943 was primarily designed to aid artillery calculations. It was known as ENIAC. These two machines took up huge rooms and several members of staff to do their work, the IBM calculator of a few years later looks small in comparison. The things they can do nowadays!

The calculator I have, and use to do the simplest sums, is slightly larger than credit card size, costs almost nothing and are manufactured by the million for dumb folk like me. Man's knowledge is wonderful indeed. What will they think of next? A 'Biro' that does not leave blue ink stains in your pocket, a CD case that you can open, a remote control that does not disappear when you look for it perhaps. We can only live in hope.

Blogger Fault

Or is it mine?
When I posted that last lot of tripe I noticed that some of the words had become mixed up.
What ought to have been on one paragraph began some where else. This has happened to me before and at first I took it to be my mixed up brain. I am thinking it is a fault on Blogger.
Anyone else notice this, or is it indeed my failing intellect?

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......