I've just discovered that according to upmystreet.com I'm classified as an Acorn type 2 and represent 1.3% of the population. Maybe I should be proud of this, but the trouble is it says lots of things about me many of which are not true, especially the bits about having kids, an executive position, and driving a company car. But anyway what it does say to Harry Burglar is that I'm probably worth the effort of a quick visit, preferable when I'm not in.
I find it quite alarming that it's so easy for the criminal element to spend their time (once they've finished watching that days Jeremy Kyle or Trisha show) checking out where all their potential business, for later that day, can be found. Then, handily, once they've identified me by post code they can checkout the ariel views on Google maps to plan the best entry and exit routes from my house.
It seems ironic that the internet is a handy little tool for me and my friends to checkout all the nice stuff we want to spend our hard earned cash on, and even more effective for the dirtbags that want to come round and nick it off us when we're not around.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Pointless signage
Today is my birthday and for a special lunch we went to the Chewton Glen in the New Forest. This place is consistently voted one of the top 10 hotel restaurants in the country so as you'd expect it is a really nice place both inside and out. As always we were not disappointed. The food was great, the service was perfect, and the place itself was immaculate.
However, what I did notice, and it's becoming something that's a constant source of irritation, was how much the pointless signs businesses are forced to display can ruin the overall look of a place. In the lounge there are two large French doors that lead out onto the patio. I know what a door looks like and would guess that at least 99% of the population has got a firm grasp on what a door looks like too. But obviously the powers that be aren't entirely happy with that situation and have insisted that exits (external doors) are marked with ugly green signs that do nothing more than state the obvious and ruin a nice looking room and the view. Looking around the hotel I rather annoyingly couldn't help but notice more of these pointless signs telling me what I could easily see for myself.
Another example of the government telling us what we already know, and making businesses pay to do it.
However, what I did notice, and it's becoming something that's a constant source of irritation, was how much the pointless signs businesses are forced to display can ruin the overall look of a place. In the lounge there are two large French doors that lead out onto the patio. I know what a door looks like and would guess that at least 99% of the population has got a firm grasp on what a door looks like too. But obviously the powers that be aren't entirely happy with that situation and have insisted that exits (external doors) are marked with ugly green signs that do nothing more than state the obvious and ruin a nice looking room and the view. Looking around the hotel I rather annoyingly couldn't help but notice more of these pointless signs telling me what I could easily see for myself.
Another example of the government telling us what we already know, and making businesses pay to do it.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Vacation diversity
Diversity is basically not tarring everyone else of a certain group with the same brush. But that's what we all do, and what we always will do, and with very good reasons to do it.
If you have a positive or negative experience with something new, be it an object or a person, you will automatically tend to have a positive or negative anticipation towards the next object or person of the same type that you may meet. The more the experience goes one way or the other the more reinforced that impression becomes, so it's natural that once it begins to get negative you will begin to avoid objects or people of that group wherever possible and you may even start warning your friends to do the same.
An example might be wasps. Wasps tend to sting, not necessarily all of them but certainly most of them, so most people tend to hate the nasty little things. Of course there could be lots of wasps that don't sting but the experience of the bad ones naturally means that you don't want to take any chances, so you avoid them all like the plague.
And so on to our most recent trip to the Maldives where everyone I met who was a Muslim was really nice and friendly, most of the Russians I met were miserable and rude, and all the Europeans were fine.
Maldivians, who are mostly Muslim, are a very friendly bunch and are happy to stand around talking for ages if you let them. The problem is that life for them is so different than it is for us that it can sometimes be very hard to know what to talk about with them. Cars are something that men can usually turn to as an easy topic of conversation but a car in the Maldives is about as much use as a surfboard in Southampton, so consequently most of them have very few opinions and views on the subject. Sports works for some people, but as I'm only really interested in F1 and skiing I'm once again barking up the wrong tree. Anyway, they're all really lovely people and I've now convinced myself that this positive attribute obviously extends over the entire Muslim Maldives population.
Russians on the other hand can be a complete pain in the backside, and I'd say that from my experience the majority do seem to fall into that bracket. They are very rude by European and US standards rarely thanking anyone for anything and usually barking orders at anyone providing them a service, such as waiters etc. Every morning we would see Russians go to the omelet chef, grunt out the filling they wanted to him with no politeness, or even eye contact, and then, when he slid the completed product onto their plates, they would simply turn around and walk off. Not a word, not a nod, not any any recognition of appreciation whatsoever. Many staff told us that they hated the Russians for their rudeness but they do apparently spend a lot of money so are naturally welcomed trade.
The Europeans were all absolutely fine, especially the Germans who I always like and find very easy to get along with. The Italians were good fun even though they all seem to smoke a lot, have a very thin grasp of English, and appear to be scared of live fish. But they do all like to have a good time. That was about it for Europeans this year out of all the folks we spoke to anyway.
Finally there were quite a few Indians this year. They all seemed very polite but kept themselves to themselves. That works for me. If only the Russians would do the same and stay at home.
If you have a positive or negative experience with something new, be it an object or a person, you will automatically tend to have a positive or negative anticipation towards the next object or person of the same type that you may meet. The more the experience goes one way or the other the more reinforced that impression becomes, so it's natural that once it begins to get negative you will begin to avoid objects or people of that group wherever possible and you may even start warning your friends to do the same.
An example might be wasps. Wasps tend to sting, not necessarily all of them but certainly most of them, so most people tend to hate the nasty little things. Of course there could be lots of wasps that don't sting but the experience of the bad ones naturally means that you don't want to take any chances, so you avoid them all like the plague.
And so on to our most recent trip to the Maldives where everyone I met who was a Muslim was really nice and friendly, most of the Russians I met were miserable and rude, and all the Europeans were fine.
Maldivians, who are mostly Muslim, are a very friendly bunch and are happy to stand around talking for ages if you let them. The problem is that life for them is so different than it is for us that it can sometimes be very hard to know what to talk about with them. Cars are something that men can usually turn to as an easy topic of conversation but a car in the Maldives is about as much use as a surfboard in Southampton, so consequently most of them have very few opinions and views on the subject. Sports works for some people, but as I'm only really interested in F1 and skiing I'm once again barking up the wrong tree. Anyway, they're all really lovely people and I've now convinced myself that this positive attribute obviously extends over the entire Muslim Maldives population.
Russians on the other hand can be a complete pain in the backside, and I'd say that from my experience the majority do seem to fall into that bracket. They are very rude by European and US standards rarely thanking anyone for anything and usually barking orders at anyone providing them a service, such as waiters etc. Every morning we would see Russians go to the omelet chef, grunt out the filling they wanted to him with no politeness, or even eye contact, and then, when he slid the completed product onto their plates, they would simply turn around and walk off. Not a word, not a nod, not any any recognition of appreciation whatsoever. Many staff told us that they hated the Russians for their rudeness but they do apparently spend a lot of money so are naturally welcomed trade.
The Europeans were all absolutely fine, especially the Germans who I always like and find very easy to get along with. The Italians were good fun even though they all seem to smoke a lot, have a very thin grasp of English, and appear to be scared of live fish. But they do all like to have a good time. That was about it for Europeans this year out of all the folks we spoke to anyway.
Finally there were quite a few Indians this year. They all seemed very polite but kept themselves to themselves. That works for me. If only the Russians would do the same and stay at home.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Speederz
Just after I got the SLK I took it over to Germany, I found a nice long stretch of empty autobahn, and I took it up to 145mph which was absolutely amazing. After I did this I couldn't stop thinking about everything that could have gone wrong and the fact that it could have happened so quickly and that I could have done absolutely nothing about it. A tyre might have burst, a bird flown into my path, or I could have sneezed! Any one of these would have resulted in possible catastrophe. But hey, I was doing 145 and it was big fun - or was it.
Move on a few years and I have discovered a certain joy in actually sticking to the speed limit. I used to be like everyone else and think it was just fine to do 40 in a 30 limit and as fast as conditions would allow on a motorway, but no longer. Now that I'm a magistrate I definitely don't want to be caught speeding so I have no choice but to stick religiously to the limits, and you know what, I like it, I really like it.
Going to work now is no longer a mad dash along the M27 and M3, but is now a nice drive through Fair Oak and on to Hursley casually following the guy in front with the cruise set at 30. I can look around, see what's going on, and never need to have one eye constantly scanning for plod. I can enjoy the music and enjoy the car.
Today I had to drive up to Heathrow and had a nice easy 70mph drive up the M3, no stress, no problem. It was nice being able to spend the time not thinking about my next manoever, but thinking about all kinds of stuff, in fact whatever I felt like. One thing I kept drifting back to was concerning all the cars that were screaming past me in the outside lane. Why was it that the majority of them were small Renaults and Peugeots - could it be that those cars are so dreadful that they're only going fast in order to get their journeys over with as soon as possible? And all the repmobiles scrambling to get to their next sales conference or client, or whatever it is that reps do. And the mindless idiots in driving their vans that tailgate the car in front leaving a gap that can be measured in microns.
All I know is now that I've accepted this new way of driving I can get to where I'm going feeling relaxed, in a good mood, and ready for whatever lays in store, whereas before I just arrived stressed out.
Move on a few years and I have discovered a certain joy in actually sticking to the speed limit. I used to be like everyone else and think it was just fine to do 40 in a 30 limit and as fast as conditions would allow on a motorway, but no longer. Now that I'm a magistrate I definitely don't want to be caught speeding so I have no choice but to stick religiously to the limits, and you know what, I like it, I really like it.
Going to work now is no longer a mad dash along the M27 and M3, but is now a nice drive through Fair Oak and on to Hursley casually following the guy in front with the cruise set at 30. I can look around, see what's going on, and never need to have one eye constantly scanning for plod. I can enjoy the music and enjoy the car.
Today I had to drive up to Heathrow and had a nice easy 70mph drive up the M3, no stress, no problem. It was nice being able to spend the time not thinking about my next manoever, but thinking about all kinds of stuff, in fact whatever I felt like. One thing I kept drifting back to was concerning all the cars that were screaming past me in the outside lane. Why was it that the majority of them were small Renaults and Peugeots - could it be that those cars are so dreadful that they're only going fast in order to get their journeys over with as soon as possible? And all the repmobiles scrambling to get to their next sales conference or client, or whatever it is that reps do. And the mindless idiots in driving their vans that tailgate the car in front leaving a gap that can be measured in microns.
All I know is now that I've accepted this new way of driving I can get to where I'm going feeling relaxed, in a good mood, and ready for whatever lays in store, whereas before I just arrived stressed out.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
How many pillows?
Once upon a time a bed used to have two pillows for every person who used it, but this age old rule no longer seems to apply, and certainly not in my house. We do have a pretty big bed, it comes from Norway and is a 'super-king', which means it's almost 2 meters wide, and it takes three pillows across it's width, however we actually have 10 pillows on our bed. Apparently some of them aren't pillows at all but are in fact cushions, not that I'm at familiar with whatever the difference is between a pillow and a cushion. We also have this other thing that lays across the bed just in front of all the pillows (or cushions) that seems to serve no obvious purpose at all. I have no idea what it's called, but it apparently needs to be removed when we're in bed and put back on when we're not.
We were at my mother in law's place this afternoon and moved some furniture around in her bedroom for her. When we were almost finished she put the new linen with two pillows on to her bed, and asked me how it looked. I said I thought it was fine except she was apparently three pillows short. She looked very confused and asked me what I meant - I still am very confused and told her I didn't have a clue.
We were at my mother in law's place this afternoon and moved some furniture around in her bedroom for her. When we were almost finished she put the new linen with two pillows on to her bed, and asked me how it looked. I said I thought it was fine except she was apparently three pillows short. She looked very confused and asked me what I meant - I still am very confused and told her I didn't have a clue.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
I love Wimbledon but I hate it.
Wimbledon - there are things that make me both love it and hate it in equal measures. I love that fact that it's such a big deal tournament, and that it's a really nice day out - assuming your lucky enough to get a ticket - and that even though I don't really like watching tennis that I can still enjoy it so much.
But what I really hate is the Britishness of it all. It's just such a stuffy event and all that clinging on to tradition makes no sense at all to me. The place is full of posers who are so far up themselves you just want to scream and then there are all those old fashioned middle-class types who simply exude everything I hate about being British.
When we were there last week I found the unreasonable partisanship incredibly embarrassing, especially in games where neither of the players was English, like most of the crowd undoubtedly were. The people sitting in the sun endlessly complaining about the heat were tiresome, and the people who were walking around looking down their noses at everyone else were even worse.
But what I really hate is the Britishness of it all. It's just such a stuffy event and all that clinging on to tradition makes no sense at all to me. The place is full of posers who are so far up themselves you just want to scream and then there are all those old fashioned middle-class types who simply exude everything I hate about being British.
When we were there last week I found the unreasonable partisanship incredibly embarrassing, especially in games where neither of the players was English, like most of the crowd undoubtedly were. The people sitting in the sun endlessly complaining about the heat were tiresome, and the people who were walking around looking down their noses at everyone else were even worse.
But the strawberries were fantastic and so is just being there - especially when you're in the front row right next to the net.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Stupid cyclists or stupid bike?
I was driving the SLK home last week and overtook a couple of guys on racing bikes - the ones that have the really skinny tyres. They were traveling at about 20mph when I passed them and I traveled on about half a mile pulling out a reasonable gap ahead of them.
Then came up behind an indecisive driver who couldn't make her mind up if she was going to pass a parked car just ahead of her or not. In the end she abruptly decided not to, and stopped quite suddenly. I stopped too and instinctively looked in my rear view mirror to see the two cyclists heading towards me with their faces full of fear! Next thing I know - bang - one of them has gone into the back of me after skidding for what must have been 50 feet or so.
I switched of the engine, took out the key, and got out too see what damage had been done. The guy that had hit me was already yelling out that there was no damage, and he was almost right, just a very small scratch that would polish out.
Although there was no real damage I was still pretty mad that this guy had hit me from such a distance - was it that he just wasn't careful enough or maybe those tyres are so skinny they are just plain dangerous? I can't help thinking it's mostly down to the tyres...
Then came up behind an indecisive driver who couldn't make her mind up if she was going to pass a parked car just ahead of her or not. In the end she abruptly decided not to, and stopped quite suddenly. I stopped too and instinctively looked in my rear view mirror to see the two cyclists heading towards me with their faces full of fear! Next thing I know - bang - one of them has gone into the back of me after skidding for what must have been 50 feet or so.
I switched of the engine, took out the key, and got out too see what damage had been done. The guy that had hit me was already yelling out that there was no damage, and he was almost right, just a very small scratch that would polish out.
Although there was no real damage I was still pretty mad that this guy had hit me from such a distance - was it that he just wasn't careful enough or maybe those tyres are so skinny they are just plain dangerous? I can't help thinking it's mostly down to the tyres...
Sunday, June 07, 2009
I wish I was more impulsive
A few weeks ago I needed to buy another guitar stand so headed of to my local music store. While I was there I had a look round to see what guitars he (Wally) had in stock and immediately spotted an interesting looking 12 string. It was a used acoustic, but only 2 inches thick, and made by Godin, a maker I'd never heard of. Wally plugged it in and left me to play with it for as long as I wanted and it sounded tremendous. It had a really nice bright jangly 12 string sound and I thought I wanted it but really wasn't 100% sure.
I came home and jumped onto the web to checkout Godin and find out what the guitar was worth. Turns out they're manufactured in Canada and assembled in the USA and are bit of a niche manufacturer, and the price Wally wanted for it was about half of what a new one would cost so it was a bargain.
Then I go through my usual routine of weighing up all the pros and cons for days, and ultimately weeks, on end trying to decide if I really do want it or not. So last week I decided I'd would get it only to find, of course, that it had been sold weeks ago!
Now I'm kicking myself - even if I'd decided I didn't really want it after all I could easily have sold it on for what I'd paid for it - I really do wish I was a bit more impulsive!
I came home and jumped onto the web to checkout Godin and find out what the guitar was worth. Turns out they're manufactured in Canada and assembled in the USA and are bit of a niche manufacturer, and the price Wally wanted for it was about half of what a new one would cost so it was a bargain.
Then I go through my usual routine of weighing up all the pros and cons for days, and ultimately weeks, on end trying to decide if I really do want it or not. So last week I decided I'd would get it only to find, of course, that it had been sold weeks ago!
Now I'm kicking myself - even if I'd decided I didn't really want it after all I could easily have sold it on for what I'd paid for it - I really do wish I was a bit more impulsive!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Packaging and instructions
Packaging is just so difficult to get into sometimes, and you have to wonder if the people who design it, and subsequently decide to release it on to the unsuspecting public, ever actually use it themselves or think about whether or not it even makes any practical sense.
The other day I came across milk that was packaged in a soft plastic tube that seemed just about impossible to open without either spilling a few drips on the table or totally covering yourself in it's contents. What wrong with the little cups with the peel back top that hopefully everyone has now mastered. We frequently have juice in the fridge that requires a foil strip to be peeled back that seems to be stuck down with super glue so that when you do eventually manage to get it started it shoots off with such force that much of the contents inevitably end up all over to worktop. And, the hole in the top is so small that there is not enough space to allow the carton to vent correctly resulting in even more liquid landing outside the target area.
There are endless other examples of poor packaging - salad bags that can't be opened without them tearing to the point they're useless - cans where the ring snaps off, cold-cut packaging where you need a microscope to find the tear strip, it's just hopeless.
The other major challenge on packaging is instructions. There is always way too much written material, so much so that it takes forever the to find the important bit - the cooking instructions - and then when you do find them the writing is so small you need a microscope to read it. Even with my glasses on I struggle so I really can't imagine how old folks manage.
The other day I came across milk that was packaged in a soft plastic tube that seemed just about impossible to open without either spilling a few drips on the table or totally covering yourself in it's contents. What wrong with the little cups with the peel back top that hopefully everyone has now mastered. We frequently have juice in the fridge that requires a foil strip to be peeled back that seems to be stuck down with super glue so that when you do eventually manage to get it started it shoots off with such force that much of the contents inevitably end up all over to worktop. And, the hole in the top is so small that there is not enough space to allow the carton to vent correctly resulting in even more liquid landing outside the target area.
There are endless other examples of poor packaging - salad bags that can't be opened without them tearing to the point they're useless - cans where the ring snaps off, cold-cut packaging where you need a microscope to find the tear strip, it's just hopeless.
The other major challenge on packaging is instructions. There is always way too much written material, so much so that it takes forever the to find the important bit - the cooking instructions - and then when you do find them the writing is so small you need a microscope to read it. Even with my glasses on I struggle so I really can't imagine how old folks manage.
Back from NY
Well we're now back from our 10 days in the land of the cheap jeans, endless bargains, and nachos, and we managed to enjoy all of them to one degree or another. The main purpose of the visit (apart from IBM business) wasn't to just do a lot of shopping but to visit our good friends and the places we used to hang-out at when we lived in Fishkill, New York around 10 years ago. This was the first time we'd been back there since July 2002 so it was interesting to see just how well we'd managed to remember our way up from JFK up 687 and into the Hudson Valley – almost without a map in fact! We also managed to skip right over to our good friends John and Martha, with only one minor directional blip on the way, without even checking on directions.
The whole 10 days panned out really well with places seeming so familiar it was like we'd never been away for any time all, and the same could be said with all our friends, they were all just as we'd remembered them, and our conversations carried on as if there had never even been a 7 year gap at all.
We made three trips down to NYC, one on our own, one with John, Martha,and Liam as he had an appointment at Sloane-Kettering, and the third time Sheila went down with Martha, Liam, and Meg to see a show on Broadway. That resulted in me and John being faced with the unexpected, but very welcome, bonus of an evening on our own - yeeha! We were so surprised that it took us over an hour, and a glass or two of wine, to decide what we were actually going to do! We finally decided on a trip out to get a couple of rib-eye steaks and very nice they were too – especially with a couple of glasses of Rioja to help them down.
John and I managed two evenings at the Dutch Cabin in Poughkeepsie to enjoy the amazing nachos they serve there. We were joined by Dave Surico the first time and Sheila, Dave, and Rich the second time - so now she knows what the lure of the nachos is!
The whole 10 days panned out really well with places seeming so familiar it was like we'd never been away for any time all, and the same could be said with all our friends, they were all just as we'd remembered them, and our conversations carried on as if there had never even been a 7 year gap at all.
We made three trips down to NYC, one on our own, one with John, Martha,and Liam as he had an appointment at Sloane-Kettering, and the third time Sheila went down with Martha, Liam, and Meg to see a show on Broadway. That resulted in me and John being faced with the unexpected, but very welcome, bonus of an evening on our own - yeeha! We were so surprised that it took us over an hour, and a glass or two of wine, to decide what we were actually going to do! We finally decided on a trip out to get a couple of rib-eye steaks and very nice they were too – especially with a couple of glasses of Rioja to help them down.
John and I managed two evenings at the Dutch Cabin in Poughkeepsie to enjoy the amazing nachos they serve there. We were joined by Dave Surico the first time and Sheila, Dave, and Rich the second time - so now she knows what the lure of the nachos is!
We had a really great time, some fantastic meals, some good weather, picked up some super-duper bargains, and of course, lots of happy memories of the fun we had with our truly good friends. Looking forward to our next visit very much...
Friday, March 20, 2009
BA - Hmm
As I write this I'm sitting in a 747 on flight BA177 from London to New York. It's too hot, the guy on front of me can't sit still for more than about 5 seconds, and is therefore constantly banging my knees, the air is stale, and time is beginning to drag. Such are the pleasures of air travel. Most of our recent flights have been travelling east with middle eastern airlines, Emirates, Qatar, and SriLankan (operated by Emirates) and it's so noticeable how much better they are to this wholly unmemorable experience. They have new planes, very attractive and efficient staff, good food choices, and amazing entertainment systems to keep you amused for hours on end.
Here on BA we have stewardesses that look like they'd probably seen better days 15 years ago and a male steward that seems so enthusiastic it's as if he'd taken a couple of Es before we took off. The Boeing seems incredibly shabby compared with the almost new Airbus 300s of the other airlines and from where I'm sitting there seem to be plenty of broken seats and 'entertainment systems'. Oh happy days.
I guess I shouldn't complain too much as we're travelling on a couple of free tickets paid for with our air miles, but it's easy to see why anyone paying with their own cash would give this outfit a wide berth. Maybe the problem is that we're on the very busy LHR-JFK route which I know from regular experience in the late 90's is definitely not one of the glamour trips, America Airlines were even worse than BA then, so business is easy and they don't need to try.
Looking on the bright side we only have another couple of hours to go before we have the joys of US immigration to negotiate. No doubt we'll be met by some of the most unhappy people the US can assemble in one place, who will scour our documentation for any little error we may have made before hopefully grunting and sending us on our way.
Here on BA we have stewardesses that look like they'd probably seen better days 15 years ago and a male steward that seems so enthusiastic it's as if he'd taken a couple of Es before we took off. The Boeing seems incredibly shabby compared with the almost new Airbus 300s of the other airlines and from where I'm sitting there seem to be plenty of broken seats and 'entertainment systems'. Oh happy days.
I guess I shouldn't complain too much as we're travelling on a couple of free tickets paid for with our air miles, but it's easy to see why anyone paying with their own cash would give this outfit a wide berth. Maybe the problem is that we're on the very busy LHR-JFK route which I know from regular experience in the late 90's is definitely not one of the glamour trips, America Airlines were even worse than BA then, so business is easy and they don't need to try.
Looking on the bright side we only have another couple of hours to go before we have the joys of US immigration to negotiate. No doubt we'll be met by some of the most unhappy people the US can assemble in one place, who will scour our documentation for any little error we may have made before hopefully grunting and sending us on our way.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Emotional clothing
Last week I saw a show on TV where they take a couple of women to whom 'time has been unkind' and then, via a selection of procedures, potions, and pills, attempt to make them look years younger that they did to begin with. Clearly the examples they pick are in pretty poor shape to begin with and both easily looked 10 years older than their actual age for a whole host of reasons.
After all the various cosmetic magic has been completed on the two woman each one is placed in a room, dressed and coiffured, surrounded by her friends and family, whereupon a mirror is thrust in front of the individual to reveal her new look. Now this hasn't all happened in the space of a few minutes, in fact it must have taken many months in some cases, so how they now look really can't be that much of a surprise at all. However, despite this all the women present seem to break down into uncontrollable floods of tears, of course accompanied by the now obligatory fanning of the faces with hands. I should point out that by now the individuals concerned do look a lot better than they did to begin with, but then I would too if I was being filmed in soft focus after having had a couple of thousand pounds worth of industrial strength cosmetic work.
What the heck is that all about! I can't ever remember getting emotional about getting tarted up in a suit just before I head off despite my wife telling me how well I scrub up. I've never even had a lump in my throat when one of my friends has been wearing a new pair of jeans after just having his new haircut. What is it about clothes, a bit of make-up, and a new hairdo that makes women want to cry?
After all the various cosmetic magic has been completed on the two woman each one is placed in a room, dressed and coiffured, surrounded by her friends and family, whereupon a mirror is thrust in front of the individual to reveal her new look. Now this hasn't all happened in the space of a few minutes, in fact it must have taken many months in some cases, so how they now look really can't be that much of a surprise at all. However, despite this all the women present seem to break down into uncontrollable floods of tears, of course accompanied by the now obligatory fanning of the faces with hands. I should point out that by now the individuals concerned do look a lot better than they did to begin with, but then I would too if I was being filmed in soft focus after having had a couple of thousand pounds worth of industrial strength cosmetic work.
What the heck is that all about! I can't ever remember getting emotional about getting tarted up in a suit just before I head off despite my wife telling me how well I scrub up. I've never even had a lump in my throat when one of my friends has been wearing a new pair of jeans after just having his new haircut. What is it about clothes, a bit of make-up, and a new hairdo that makes women want to cry?
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Vince is the man
I can't stand politicians. I think that they have only one issue in mind - how to ensure they get re-elected next time around. If they do manage to achieve something for us, the people, it's probably through some good fortune rather than any real effort on their part. To be honest I think they should all be rounded up and send to a distant planet where they can do no harm.
There is however one guy who I do have an enormous amount of respect for and he is Vince Cable of the Liberal Democratic party. I would never vote for that party, infact few people do, but I would willingly vote for Vince if it was all about people and not party politics. I seem to find that he always says exactly what I'm thinking and what no other political figure ever has the sense to say because doing so might damage their precious re-election hopes.
Vince is a member of a party that stands little chance of ever being elected so maybe that's why he's the only politician to actually speak any real sense.
There is however one guy who I do have an enormous amount of respect for and he is Vince Cable of the Liberal Democratic party. I would never vote for that party, infact few people do, but I would willingly vote for Vince if it was all about people and not party politics. I seem to find that he always says exactly what I'm thinking and what no other political figure ever has the sense to say because doing so might damage their precious re-election hopes.
Vince is a member of a party that stands little chance of ever being elected so maybe that's why he's the only politician to actually speak any real sense.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
F*@&$#g AOL
I've just spent a total of about 6 hours trying to sort out a friends AOL broadband access. It's been working fine for the last two years, but a couple of weeks back the USB modem broke and needed replacing. As USB modems are pretty useless anyway, and prone to all kinds of problems, I decided to replac it with a Belkin wireless modem/router, firstly because I have one and it's been faultless for the last three years, and also because my sister had one which she used, trouble free, to connect to AOL.
I installed and configured the new modem and everything's worked fine for the last three weeks until last week. The modem could no longer connect to AOL. A (lengthy) phone call to the AOL support people, in India!, resulted in them basically saying that "this happens sometimes" with Belkin modems and we really should be talking to them, and by the way, Belkin modems are not supported by AOL. What the heck is that supposed to mean. When we called Belkin they quite reasonably said they're sorry about the problem, which they'd heard about before, but the problem is definitely with AOL. I must agree with them as this modem works just fine with my ISP (BT), and why shouldn't it work with AOL? - surely they should provide a service that works to an industry standard. They don't tell you that it's a non-standard service when you sign the contract.
A trawl through the web gave me a lot of hits with many other frustrated people having had very similar problems - everything working one minute and not the next. Thankfully I got lots of clues as to what I could try in order to resolve the problem and one of them did (amazingly) work, although for the life of me I can't understand why it did. Even more annoying was that none of this information was available on the AOL website.
Next week my friends will be terminating their AOL contract and moving to BT, and will even save a couple of pounds each month on their subscription. AOL seem to be an example of a company that's very happy to take your money but offer little in return. They seem to have no interest in making life easy for their customers, and I hope they go bust as soon as possible.
I installed and configured the new modem and everything's worked fine for the last three weeks until last week. The modem could no longer connect to AOL. A (lengthy) phone call to the AOL support people, in India!, resulted in them basically saying that "this happens sometimes" with Belkin modems and we really should be talking to them, and by the way, Belkin modems are not supported by AOL. What the heck is that supposed to mean. When we called Belkin they quite reasonably said they're sorry about the problem, which they'd heard about before, but the problem is definitely with AOL. I must agree with them as this modem works just fine with my ISP (BT), and why shouldn't it work with AOL? - surely they should provide a service that works to an industry standard. They don't tell you that it's a non-standard service when you sign the contract.
A trawl through the web gave me a lot of hits with many other frustrated people having had very similar problems - everything working one minute and not the next. Thankfully I got lots of clues as to what I could try in order to resolve the problem and one of them did (amazingly) work, although for the life of me I can't understand why it did. Even more annoying was that none of this information was available on the AOL website.
Next week my friends will be terminating their AOL contract and moving to BT, and will even save a couple of pounds each month on their subscription. AOL seem to be an example of a company that's very happy to take your money but offer little in return. They seem to have no interest in making life easy for their customers, and I hope they go bust as soon as possible.
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