Things still being found on hard drives, this one about the "5S" regime, as with most things, you would really have had to be there...
The group responsibilities include:
Ensure that the group is working with only necessary items, all unnecessary items are to be removed. The unnecessary items can easily be identified as they are the items that are not in fact necessary for the minute by minute essential clean up of the work surfaces.
Ensure there are no items under desks, this includes boxes, binders, coats, feet, rodent bait, flooring, sub-flooring, concrete joists and the like. However, necessary items, such as cleaning apparatus for the essential minute by minute clean up of the essential items that are under the desk is allowed according to paragraph 7, subsection 4b of the Happy-S code.
3 minute clean up to be done every 6 minutes. This gives the user the correct amount of time to e-mail everyone that they have in fact done their 3 minute clean up.
Binders to be properly labeled and placed in order of frequency, 1ghz, 2ghz, 3ghz etc.
If the group encounters anything loose, make sure that they tape it down firmly, or preferably use strong two-part epoxy to ensure that it never moves again.
The contagion is spreading!
Remember the Happy-S club song :
We will clean whatever has got dirty,
We will tape all things that have dropped down,
There are times that we will all get shirty,
but we’ll do our tasks without a frown,
We will hide our sandwich in our trousers,
We will send our coats to Timbuk too,
We’ll all be quiet like little mouses,
and things that move we’ll stick with glue.
Though you’ll never see our dirty tea-mugs,
or find the box that holds S-312,
We’ll be friendly with all those binder thugs,
as we know that we are like that too,
Dicky Evans is our fearless leader,
and all his clean ideas are simply tops,
We will welcome 5S to our homeland,
and will rule with iron fists and mops.
We will burn the books that make us naughty,
and we’ll rewrite things that make us sad,
We will stick to primary, basic colors,
as we know that gaudy makes Dick mad,
And when the clouds of dust have settled,
and all our dreams have finally come true,
We will shine with all the light we’re given,
and we know our Dick will shine bright too.
[chorus]
We will clean as we go,
make our desks white as snow,
and with this we will know.....
Good Heavens, Good Evans!
We’ve found our will to live,
Good Heavens!, Good Evans!
There’s so much more to give.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Tech Flash
I thought I'd create my own Tech Flash :
Tech Flash, September 19th, 2007
David Weldon "Welgy" was born in Liverpool, Lancashire in 1957 and called Wigan his home back in 1980 when he graduated with a Higher National Certificate, Mechanical Engineering at the Wigan Mining and Technical College. He had previosly completed his EITB grade school at the Ordinary National Certificate level at Barking College, near Romford, Essex in 1977. David had joined the Ford Motor Company in 1974 directly from school and following the delayed completion of his HNC joined Automotive Products, Precision Hydraulics (APPH) to work on Landing Gear as a stress analyst. David is an easy going type who has found himself many good friends during his tenure in the automotive and aerospace Industries in Britain, the USA and Canada over the last thirty three years. His future is undecided as yet but doubtlessly will be connected with stress relief in some form, all the best David!
Tech Flash, September 19th, 2007
David Weldon "Welgy" was born in Liverpool, Lancashire in 1957 and called Wigan his home back in 1980 when he graduated with a Higher National Certificate, Mechanical Engineering at the Wigan Mining and Technical College. He had previosly completed his EITB grade school at the Ordinary National Certificate level at Barking College, near Romford, Essex in 1977. David had joined the Ford Motor Company in 1974 directly from school and following the delayed completion of his HNC joined Automotive Products, Precision Hydraulics (APPH) to work on Landing Gear as a stress analyst. David is an easy going type who has found himself many good friends during his tenure in the automotive and aerospace Industries in Britain, the USA and Canada over the last thirty three years. His future is undecided as yet but doubtlessly will be connected with stress relief in some form, all the best David!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Bring me Sunshine
May, 2009 :
I have to tell a story...you may want to pass this around to a few people at the emporium who maybe are "holding the rope too tightly" and taking life too seriously.
According to the local stats, the percentage of retired people on the Sunshine Coast is around 25% of the population "the land of the newly wed and the almost dead" as the locals say and about two weeks ago, around the corner from where we live, there was another of the frequent house auctions that happen around here.
The back story of the auction was that an older couple had been moved from the house by their children, taken to residential care in North Vancouver, downsized from a three bedroom detached home with lovely garden into a couple of rooms, basically took their clothes and a few personal objects, already I was affected by some sadness about their situation.
The garage was a reflection of most of us, the hand made wooden bench, drawers full of widgets and dongles acquired over a lifetime, familiar wood and power tools and useful wood, stored in a corner, awaiting a project that never happened. On a shelf there, boxes of older Christmas decorations (just like my mums) awaiting a festivus somewhere else.
Items sell for very little at these auctions, I'd be surprised if a full house auction like this yields more than $10k and I'm always on the lookout for goodies, and although there was a lot of good furniture, kitchen stuff, bedroom suites etc, we are at an age where "we have all that" and focus tends to end up on smaller stuff. I was disinterested in the stuff and reflecting on the back story when I entered a smaller room.
A couple of large bookcases on either side, a classic oak office table and swivel chair, and a small couch. On the walls, a framed poster for the 20th anniversary of the Snowbirds at Abbotsford, a cartoon depiction of a DHC Otter 411 complete with floats, numerous framed pictures of maps, aircraft and books, all those books, which through a strange process, I bought.
From Tech Flash 1950 :
Daniel John McKinnon "Danny" was born at Long Beach, Cape Breton in 1923 and called Victoria Mines his home back in 1950 when he graduated as a Mechanical Engineer at the Nova Scotia Technical College. He completed his grade school in St. Agnes High in New Waterford. Danny joined the Air Force in 1941 and was discharged in 1945 but still had a powerful "yen" for anything that flies. He received his Pre-engineering diploma from St. F.X. in 1948 and proceeded to Tech to study Mechanical Engineering. Danny is a soft spoken and easy going type who has earned himself many friends in his stay at Tech. His future is undecided as yet but doubtlessly will be connected with aviation in some form, all the best Danny.
The books tell the tale of this man, he was a pilot and obviously a structural guy, worked at Canadair on the Challenger and out here on the coast. Structural books that we all know, thirty or so, Strength of Materials, Thermodynamics, Bruhn was there, along with a personal copy of Mil-Handbook 5, a couple of those loose leaf binders with those older articles about bolt strength and the like, and of course, the reason why I bid on the books in the first place, a pristine copy of the Machinery's Handbook, something I lacked in my career, a book constantly borrowed from someone else.
I think this reinforces the fact that, we're all just passing through, that we are no different than those that went before us and that one day, all our worldly goods will end up scattered about the planet, sold for pennies on the dollar. It seems that Mister McKinnon led an interesting, well travelled life and it is ending in a very familiar fashion, in a single room in faceless residential care somewhere.
This isn't a depressing story unless you want it to be, it's more a further reminder to live life now and not get stressed out about the little things like global recession, swine flu or the impending apocolypse. It's another wake up call to all of us to make hay while the sun is shining.
I have to tell a story...you may want to pass this around to a few people at the emporium who maybe are "holding the rope too tightly" and taking life too seriously.
According to the local stats, the percentage of retired people on the Sunshine Coast is around 25% of the population "the land of the newly wed and the almost dead" as the locals say and about two weeks ago, around the corner from where we live, there was another of the frequent house auctions that happen around here.
The back story of the auction was that an older couple had been moved from the house by their children, taken to residential care in North Vancouver, downsized from a three bedroom detached home with lovely garden into a couple of rooms, basically took their clothes and a few personal objects, already I was affected by some sadness about their situation.
The garage was a reflection of most of us, the hand made wooden bench, drawers full of widgets and dongles acquired over a lifetime, familiar wood and power tools and useful wood, stored in a corner, awaiting a project that never happened. On a shelf there, boxes of older Christmas decorations (just like my mums) awaiting a festivus somewhere else.
Items sell for very little at these auctions, I'd be surprised if a full house auction like this yields more than $10k and I'm always on the lookout for goodies, and although there was a lot of good furniture, kitchen stuff, bedroom suites etc, we are at an age where "we have all that" and focus tends to end up on smaller stuff. I was disinterested in the stuff and reflecting on the back story when I entered a smaller room.
A couple of large bookcases on either side, a classic oak office table and swivel chair, and a small couch. On the walls, a framed poster for the 20th anniversary of the Snowbirds at Abbotsford, a cartoon depiction of a DHC Otter 411 complete with floats, numerous framed pictures of maps, aircraft and books, all those books, which through a strange process, I bought.
From Tech Flash 1950 :
Daniel John McKinnon "Danny" was born at Long Beach, Cape Breton in 1923 and called Victoria Mines his home back in 1950 when he graduated as a Mechanical Engineer at the Nova Scotia Technical College. He completed his grade school in St. Agnes High in New Waterford. Danny joined the Air Force in 1941 and was discharged in 1945 but still had a powerful "yen" for anything that flies. He received his Pre-engineering diploma from St. F.X. in 1948 and proceeded to Tech to study Mechanical Engineering. Danny is a soft spoken and easy going type who has earned himself many friends in his stay at Tech. His future is undecided as yet but doubtlessly will be connected with aviation in some form, all the best Danny.
The books tell the tale of this man, he was a pilot and obviously a structural guy, worked at Canadair on the Challenger and out here on the coast. Structural books that we all know, thirty or so, Strength of Materials, Thermodynamics, Bruhn was there, along with a personal copy of Mil-Handbook 5, a couple of those loose leaf binders with those older articles about bolt strength and the like, and of course, the reason why I bid on the books in the first place, a pristine copy of the Machinery's Handbook, something I lacked in my career, a book constantly borrowed from someone else.
I think this reinforces the fact that, we're all just passing through, that we are no different than those that went before us and that one day, all our worldly goods will end up scattered about the planet, sold for pennies on the dollar. It seems that Mister McKinnon led an interesting, well travelled life and it is ending in a very familiar fashion, in a single room in faceless residential care somewhere.
This isn't a depressing story unless you want it to be, it's more a further reminder to live life now and not get stressed out about the little things like global recession, swine flu or the impending apocolypse. It's another wake up call to all of us to make hay while the sun is shining.
Phantom Chrimbo Rant
Christmas 2008 :
HoHoHo and all that, or in the Scotsmans case HolaHolaHola
Wishing you a good, safe and merry Festivus/Christmas/Hanukkah or whatever goofy religious reason you use to eat/drink/spend too much. It is more important than ever to get out there this year to spend your own money (before our government does it for you) and remember the children, for it is the children that enjoy this time of the year the most, their little golden faces on "the magic gift day" are a delight to see, their innocence of life and their hope of the future makes us all wonder why we drink too much, and then, for one reason or another, we remember, and continue to drink more.
I have missed you people, slightly, and I wish I could be there in the emporium at this time of the year to enjoy a cologne free pot luck dinner while thinking that "I had my chance" with Terry Nelson, please know that in life, golden chances pass by just once, and if you dont jump on that chance and give it a good seeing to, it will be gone and someone else will be given that chance, very quickly and usually they will bury their face in that chance and enjoy the joyous meats, fruits and syrups of that chance, so, please, please, do not look a gift horse in the mouth, mount that horse and ride like the wind for they call the wind Mariah.
Where was I?
Oh yes, have a happy and safe holiday, be nice to people, if you pass by the thinning Scotsmans desk and he's hiding, leave him some food so that he does not have to add another buckle hole in his belt, don't leave wrapped or unperishable items though as they are sure to end up in the wee ones Christmas stockings or in the drawer at his abode that has all the staplers, power bars and stationary in.
This is the time of year to give and not receive and before the more affluent amongst you resort to that December "tax loss selling" instead of the other type of selling of stocks that has become popular this year, think once again about the children, yes, I'm talking about giving the gift of stock. It is the time of the year to think about all the children, even the little bald and ugly ones, so, if you have any stocks that have become weakened or worthless this year, give them to the children, for they will enjoy them and make lovely things out of them, like little paper airplanes or origami piglets.
The most important thing is to smile, think of the bad times and reflect that you are better off today than you were then, if, in fact, you have not had any bad times, well, think of others who have had them which is sure to bring a big smile to your face. It is not funny to think of other peoples pain, but, you have to admit that the months that Mark Clemente spent pretending to be the misshapen bellringer from Victor Hugo's famous novel are certainly at the roots of comedy. If you are near to Mark's desk, be sure to give him a gentle hug, for anything more may result in cauldrons of boiling oil being poured on your feet.
And give, give like you never have before. If you are near Gary Bambers desk, give him a smile, or Rob Chappells desk, an eyebrow. Visit Dan Hetheringtons desk and ask him if he really thinks that a coalition arrangement with the liberals and the bloc is a good idea for his party and of course, if you see John Oh about, give a big hug because we all know now, that despite poisoning the little children with lead covered toys or melamine filled milk, the Chinese are not all that bad after all and could be our way out of this mess.
Oh, and one more thing.....
Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year guys, lots of hugs and good wishes from the Weldons.
xxxx
HoHoHo and all that, or in the Scotsmans case HolaHolaHola
Wishing you a good, safe and merry Festivus/Christmas/Hanukkah or whatever goofy religious reason you use to eat/drink/spend too much. It is more important than ever to get out there this year to spend your own money (before our government does it for you) and remember the children, for it is the children that enjoy this time of the year the most, their little golden faces on "the magic gift day" are a delight to see, their innocence of life and their hope of the future makes us all wonder why we drink too much, and then, for one reason or another, we remember, and continue to drink more.
I have missed you people, slightly, and I wish I could be there in the emporium at this time of the year to enjoy a cologne free pot luck dinner while thinking that "I had my chance" with Terry Nelson, please know that in life, golden chances pass by just once, and if you dont jump on that chance and give it a good seeing to, it will be gone and someone else will be given that chance, very quickly and usually they will bury their face in that chance and enjoy the joyous meats, fruits and syrups of that chance, so, please, please, do not look a gift horse in the mouth, mount that horse and ride like the wind for they call the wind Mariah.
Where was I?
Oh yes, have a happy and safe holiday, be nice to people, if you pass by the thinning Scotsmans desk and he's hiding, leave him some food so that he does not have to add another buckle hole in his belt, don't leave wrapped or unperishable items though as they are sure to end up in the wee ones Christmas stockings or in the drawer at his abode that has all the staplers, power bars and stationary in.
This is the time of year to give and not receive and before the more affluent amongst you resort to that December "tax loss selling" instead of the other type of selling of stocks that has become popular this year, think once again about the children, yes, I'm talking about giving the gift of stock. It is the time of the year to think about all the children, even the little bald and ugly ones, so, if you have any stocks that have become weakened or worthless this year, give them to the children, for they will enjoy them and make lovely things out of them, like little paper airplanes or origami piglets.
The most important thing is to smile, think of the bad times and reflect that you are better off today than you were then, if, in fact, you have not had any bad times, well, think of others who have had them which is sure to bring a big smile to your face. It is not funny to think of other peoples pain, but, you have to admit that the months that Mark Clemente spent pretending to be the misshapen bellringer from Victor Hugo's famous novel are certainly at the roots of comedy. If you are near to Mark's desk, be sure to give him a gentle hug, for anything more may result in cauldrons of boiling oil being poured on your feet.
And give, give like you never have before. If you are near Gary Bambers desk, give him a smile, or Rob Chappells desk, an eyebrow. Visit Dan Hetheringtons desk and ask him if he really thinks that a coalition arrangement with the liberals and the bloc is a good idea for his party and of course, if you see John Oh about, give a big hug because we all know now, that despite poisoning the little children with lead covered toys or melamine filled milk, the Chinese are not all that bad after all and could be our way out of this mess.
Oh, and one more thing.....
Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year guys, lots of hugs and good wishes from the Weldons.
xxxx
Natural Light
December 11th, 2008
We were talking yesterday on our walk, primarily about the fact that, although we have retired and are really enjoying all our time not working, that it was odd to think that "back in that other world" the players that we knew in that chapter are still cycling through the same working events every day.
A few weeks ago, a stress guy called Charlie Tulloch died, an interesting man in the stress office. In addition, very recently at Millwork, Marian, a friend of my wife, also passed away. I commented that we'll hear more and more of the "players" kicking the bucket in one way or another, and here, today, as they say, another one bites the dust.
Steve Legg from Dowty passed away after a long battle with cancer, he was 49 years old, married with children.
I talked about this with my Scottish buddy, as we both know, painfully through the loss of our fathers, that we are on a timer, and it seems more often than not, the timer is not going to tick as long as we'd hope, therefore the "going too soon" concept is really the most important thing about this one life we've been given.
This chapter is rapidly becoming the most enjoyable of my life since childhood and I find it sad that the likes of Charlie, Marian and Steve never reached the point. I felt a similar sadness about my mum and dad not seeing something as magnificent as the rockies when we made our cross Canada trip.
Look around you as you do and make that mental list of all those that probably will miss out on this bit, at Dowty or at Millwork or in the millions of other stuffy little offices around the planet, the battery chickens that will live out the rest of their days under artificial light.
We were talking yesterday on our walk, primarily about the fact that, although we have retired and are really enjoying all our time not working, that it was odd to think that "back in that other world" the players that we knew in that chapter are still cycling through the same working events every day.
A few weeks ago, a stress guy called Charlie Tulloch died, an interesting man in the stress office. In addition, very recently at Millwork, Marian, a friend of my wife, also passed away. I commented that we'll hear more and more of the "players" kicking the bucket in one way or another, and here, today, as they say, another one bites the dust.
Steve Legg from Dowty passed away after a long battle with cancer, he was 49 years old, married with children.
I talked about this with my Scottish buddy, as we both know, painfully through the loss of our fathers, that we are on a timer, and it seems more often than not, the timer is not going to tick as long as we'd hope, therefore the "going too soon" concept is really the most important thing about this one life we've been given.
This chapter is rapidly becoming the most enjoyable of my life since childhood and I find it sad that the likes of Charlie, Marian and Steve never reached the point. I felt a similar sadness about my mum and dad not seeing something as magnificent as the rockies when we made our cross Canada trip.
Look around you as you do and make that mental list of all those that probably will miss out on this bit, at Dowty or at Millwork or in the millions of other stuffy little offices around the planet, the battery chickens that will live out the rest of their days under artificial light.
Back to School
September 15th, 2008 :
The good wife inherited the Presario V5201CA laptop when I bought the Presario CQ50-108CA this weekend, two years later the latter machine offers easily twice as much of everything at less money ($499 Best Buy) and of course the "interesting" Vista Home Premium SP1 which basically gave me three hours of fun and setup before I even had the chance to surf the web. I'll be checking out the low end, but good for a laptop, Nvidia 8200m Geforce GPU in the next week when I install Warcraft again (after my three months off) although almost 20 gigaflops means very little to me. I looked at the 17" laptops but they're just straight out too big for me.
I did mention I was back playing Warcraft didn't I?
Dell have stepped through the $500 barrier also, in fact they sent me a limited time/quantity deal the other week for the lowest end 1525 at the $399 level, of course, back to school being as mad as it is, they were sold immediately even with that sad configuration.
I think the market is getting more diverse, the range of available CPUs, GPUs and even O/Ss now is getting dizzy, even the likes of Toms Hardware website is confusing. The low end laptop market, with the mixing and matching of dual cores and several video options is fundamentally insane, plus now the 9" Atom offerings are hitting bigtime - will we see a sub $200 one of those soon? - suffice to say, quad core mobile cpus and new generation offerings will surface in the next year or so and we'll see what I buy in September 2010.
Postnote. Atom machine spotted in Future Shop at $249 on the 28th September, 2009 and a slightly better version of my laptop available at $459
The good wife inherited the Presario V5201CA laptop when I bought the Presario CQ50-108CA this weekend, two years later the latter machine offers easily twice as much of everything at less money ($499 Best Buy) and of course the "interesting" Vista Home Premium SP1 which basically gave me three hours of fun and setup before I even had the chance to surf the web. I'll be checking out the low end, but good for a laptop, Nvidia 8200m Geforce GPU in the next week when I install Warcraft again (after my three months off) although almost 20 gigaflops means very little to me. I looked at the 17" laptops but they're just straight out too big for me.
I did mention I was back playing Warcraft didn't I?
Dell have stepped through the $500 barrier also, in fact they sent me a limited time/quantity deal the other week for the lowest end 1525 at the $399 level, of course, back to school being as mad as it is, they were sold immediately even with that sad configuration.
I think the market is getting more diverse, the range of available CPUs, GPUs and even O/Ss now is getting dizzy, even the likes of Toms Hardware website is confusing. The low end laptop market, with the mixing and matching of dual cores and several video options is fundamentally insane, plus now the 9" Atom offerings are hitting bigtime - will we see a sub $200 one of those soon? - suffice to say, quad core mobile cpus and new generation offerings will surface in the next year or so and we'll see what I buy in September 2010.
Postnote. Atom machine spotted in Future Shop at $249 on the 28th September, 2009 and a slightly better version of my laptop available at $459
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Observations, one year in.
September, 2008 :
If you like the outdoor life, this is it. The Sunshine Coast has a small population and limited shopping opportunities, a couple of small malls, no big box shopping. This was a culture shock for me, however, within six months my window shopping urges had gone. The occasional shopping adventure to Vancouver or Bellingham (USA) occurs every couple of months, we make lists...
After a year I still pinch myself about my life, still feel like I’m on holiday and have utter confidence that money is never going to be an issue and I really can have anything I want. The projects like the deck, the picnic table and the ongoing garden landscaping give far more reward than any paid work could.
The year has been full of events and we will build on them in 2009. This is a “bring your boots” place and the beauty is difficult to describe. The social side of life has changed a bit, we know some people, recognise faces here and there and don’t feel like outsiders any more.
I would add that for your retirement years you may not be “on the go” all the time and you have to learn to enjoy being bored, together. There are no distractions from what you do and when you set on a project you can complete it. In this way, the difference from working life, scheduling recreational work, is dramatic. As an example, when building the deck, we worked five or so hours a day, for as many days as it took.
In a strange way, you lose weekends. An absolute pleasure while working.
Small price to pay.
If you like the outdoor life, this is it. The Sunshine Coast has a small population and limited shopping opportunities, a couple of small malls, no big box shopping. This was a culture shock for me, however, within six months my window shopping urges had gone. The occasional shopping adventure to Vancouver or Bellingham (USA) occurs every couple of months, we make lists...
After a year I still pinch myself about my life, still feel like I’m on holiday and have utter confidence that money is never going to be an issue and I really can have anything I want. The projects like the deck, the picnic table and the ongoing garden landscaping give far more reward than any paid work could.
The year has been full of events and we will build on them in 2009. This is a “bring your boots” place and the beauty is difficult to describe. The social side of life has changed a bit, we know some people, recognise faces here and there and don’t feel like outsiders any more.
I would add that for your retirement years you may not be “on the go” all the time and you have to learn to enjoy being bored, together. There are no distractions from what you do and when you set on a project you can complete it. In this way, the difference from working life, scheduling recreational work, is dramatic. As an example, when building the deck, we worked five or so hours a day, for as many days as it took.
In a strange way, you lose weekends. An absolute pleasure while working.
Small price to pay.
One year Update
September, 2008 :
Culture Shock
I had observed that working at the Landing Gear emporium was a daily “grind” of eight hours of essentially doing very little or “enough” to pacify our so called superiors. The time spent at work, and travelling to work, was just waste. The average guy, dreaming about retirement has grand thoughts of escape, that the grind would stop and they’d be free to do whatever they want.
I stepped into this retirement thing with no expectations, didn’t know what I would do, except of course, discarding my peon status. It was new territory.
The feeling from day one is that you are on holiday, the strange effect is that you know that there will be no “end of the week” feelings and that it is open ended. This is just one of the strange feelings about retirement and a lot is down to the programming that we have had since primary school.
A second strangeness is that of guilt, this is a funny one and both of us have felt it. This is the conditioning I think, you feel some (not a lot) guilt about just making up your own mind about everything, waking up when you want, doing what you want and yes, not working for a living.
The thirty odd years of being rewarded is over, and whatever “work” you do for yourself is rewarded by achievement and nothing to do with cash, yes, you can save cash in various ways by being smart, but the paycheck has gone, which in itself is odd. The upward slope of accumulation has ended, and probably for the first year the pot stays the same because you don’t make a dent. However, you are very concious that the responsibility of money preservation has not ended and at some point the draw down will start.
Culture Shock
I had observed that working at the Landing Gear emporium was a daily “grind” of eight hours of essentially doing very little or “enough” to pacify our so called superiors. The time spent at work, and travelling to work, was just waste. The average guy, dreaming about retirement has grand thoughts of escape, that the grind would stop and they’d be free to do whatever they want.
I stepped into this retirement thing with no expectations, didn’t know what I would do, except of course, discarding my peon status. It was new territory.
The feeling from day one is that you are on holiday, the strange effect is that you know that there will be no “end of the week” feelings and that it is open ended. This is just one of the strange feelings about retirement and a lot is down to the programming that we have had since primary school.
A second strangeness is that of guilt, this is a funny one and both of us have felt it. This is the conditioning I think, you feel some (not a lot) guilt about just making up your own mind about everything, waking up when you want, doing what you want and yes, not working for a living.
The thirty odd years of being rewarded is over, and whatever “work” you do for yourself is rewarded by achievement and nothing to do with cash, yes, you can save cash in various ways by being smart, but the paycheck has gone, which in itself is odd. The upward slope of accumulation has ended, and probably for the first year the pot stays the same because you don’t make a dent. However, you are very concious that the responsibility of money preservation has not ended and at some point the draw down will start.
Float Plane
Yes, float plane. The operator was Tofino air and our flightpath was on this coastline, not the Tofino coastline. It was a DHC2 Beaver and we were up in the air for around half an hour. It was a gift off our Ontario realtors, Ken and Sue Sherban, last year when we retired and it is certainly something I would do again in a year or so, Karen enjoyed it and the coast/mountain route the guy took us on was quite brilliant. I was surprised how smooth takeoff and landing was, but porpoise bay is usually a millpond anyway.
Small Fonts
August, 2008 :
Along with fonts increasingly getting smaller, I feel as though I'm being edged out of this life by complications.
I now have reading glasses, but I think it's also a chemistry thing as most days my eyesight is great but occasionally I have to reach for the readers. It's a function of the lifestyle I have at the moment that the 10 months since my 50th birthday have zipped by, I'm not adopting the elderly "time flies by so quickly" routine as my mum and dad did, because really, we all acknowledge that, at our age, there's less left than already gone by, so we count the days more.
I think I may be seeing the aforementioned Alan Marsden in September, he's going to be on a Vancouver trip and popping to Gibsons for a day or so, so there'll be a period of laughter, storytelling and yes, doomsaying. Its another trait of old people to say that the world is getting worse and Alan is pretty good at it.
Nothing but good at this end, feeling healthy and loving the coastal life, British Columbia being very green, weather far better than Ontario in that winters are warmer, summers are cooler. Rain, yes, but I love it, I think it's all those years of being damp sitting on Crosvilles.
The Crossville was a double decker, usually green, British Bus, often packed with damp people on blustery winters days, a sort of rolling island in a storm.
I digress...
I miss the people more than the work, although in the last few years of my particular working life, everyone was preoccupied with their growing kids and the social scene was suffering. It's funny, as I've done a few complete resets in my life that effect has happened a few times, especially as I retain a high level of immaturity while new friends eventually become very responsible.
Thats why I try to keep hold of that fool on the hill title.
Along with fonts increasingly getting smaller, I feel as though I'm being edged out of this life by complications.
I now have reading glasses, but I think it's also a chemistry thing as most days my eyesight is great but occasionally I have to reach for the readers. It's a function of the lifestyle I have at the moment that the 10 months since my 50th birthday have zipped by, I'm not adopting the elderly "time flies by so quickly" routine as my mum and dad did, because really, we all acknowledge that, at our age, there's less left than already gone by, so we count the days more.
I think I may be seeing the aforementioned Alan Marsden in September, he's going to be on a Vancouver trip and popping to Gibsons for a day or so, so there'll be a period of laughter, storytelling and yes, doomsaying. Its another trait of old people to say that the world is getting worse and Alan is pretty good at it.
Nothing but good at this end, feeling healthy and loving the coastal life, British Columbia being very green, weather far better than Ontario in that winters are warmer, summers are cooler. Rain, yes, but I love it, I think it's all those years of being damp sitting on Crosvilles.
The Crossville was a double decker, usually green, British Bus, often packed with damp people on blustery winters days, a sort of rolling island in a storm.
I digress...
I miss the people more than the work, although in the last few years of my particular working life, everyone was preoccupied with their growing kids and the social scene was suffering. It's funny, as I've done a few complete resets in my life that effect has happened a few times, especially as I retain a high level of immaturity while new friends eventually become very responsible.
Thats why I try to keep hold of that fool on the hill title.
Working Memories
Following on from that last post, my memories of Menasco are far better than those from Dowty, indirectly I think that Larry was the best boss I've ever had, he knew his trade and was a lot of fun to work for, sometimes a bit explosive but that's part of the fun. The same is true with Gerry K, I've never worked for anyone better, the code was if you respected them, they respected you.
It was hilarious sometimes to watch Larry and Alvin have an enormous row, shouting at each other, then ten minutes later they'd be laughing and joking with each other again, never a question of a grudge.
I remember taking on the Fokker 100 after Steve Harding left, after a week there the lock actuator failed on test and both Gerry and Larry made me squirm in front of Allan Farmaner down at the test department, basically saying to me "What the f#&k did you do wrong this time?" - thats the sort of stuff that went on.
Gerry K took me down to the shop floor after the DCH8 400 main fitting was machined, he pointed at the upper part (where it eventually failed) and said to me "what the f#&k where you thinking?" and he was right, the actuator lug interface was hopelessly undersized (by me), and even fingers crossed and letters to santa failed to stop that fiasco on test (not to mention the yoke).
All great stuff, which can be placed in my "best working memories" box.
The list of blogs to the right has been updated to include "The Magnet" which will be a retrospective blog from 1974 onwards, taking advantage of old diaries and memories from my personal and working life.
It was hilarious sometimes to watch Larry and Alvin have an enormous row, shouting at each other, then ten minutes later they'd be laughing and joking with each other again, never a question of a grudge.
I remember taking on the Fokker 100 after Steve Harding left, after a week there the lock actuator failed on test and both Gerry and Larry made me squirm in front of Allan Farmaner down at the test department, basically saying to me "What the f#&k did you do wrong this time?" - thats the sort of stuff that went on.
Gerry K took me down to the shop floor after the DCH8 400 main fitting was machined, he pointed at the upper part (where it eventually failed) and said to me "what the f#&k where you thinking?" and he was right, the actuator lug interface was hopelessly undersized (by me), and even fingers crossed and letters to santa failed to stop that fiasco on test (not to mention the yoke).
All great stuff, which can be placed in my "best working memories" box.
The list of blogs to the right has been updated to include "The Magnet" which will be a retrospective blog from 1974 onwards, taking advantage of old diaries and memories from my personal and working life.
Management Styles
A sort of back handed compliment about my manager, Larry, at Menasco :
Over the years I learned that the best way to work "with" him was to play the game, that being his game.
I saw people push back at him and it never worked out and back in 1990, I started my first year as a jobshopper under Larry and just one thing he said changed the way I thought, it was my second day there and he told me to move a bunch of boxes from the old stress area to the new one.
I baulked and sort of protested and he said "You're getting paid the same rate for moving boxes, so just do it" and the "just do it" concept stuck with me, you know, the "paint it pink" approach, where if the bosses told me to do something, I just did it, occasionally I'd suggest an alternative and that was accepted better than a disagreement.
Acronyms, JDI (just do it) and stage two JFDI - adding a four, or is it seven letter, word to the mix...
In later years, the approach to "just do it" and the get it out on time regardless approach hurt the company. However, in Canada, those two (Larry and Gerry) have been my best bosses, probably because they always gave direction and sometimes gave the occasional high profile bollicking, which was sadly missing with the Dowty bunch - they're very politically correct but sneaky and do a lot of back biting - not that it didn't go on at Menasco that is!
If I could choose a management style it would be the former, having bosses that are willing to go on record and accept blame is always far better than those that are wishy washy and force their minions to make "bad" decisions.
Over the years I learned that the best way to work "with" him was to play the game, that being his game.
I saw people push back at him and it never worked out and back in 1990, I started my first year as a jobshopper under Larry and just one thing he said changed the way I thought, it was my second day there and he told me to move a bunch of boxes from the old stress area to the new one.
I baulked and sort of protested and he said "You're getting paid the same rate for moving boxes, so just do it" and the "just do it" concept stuck with me, you know, the "paint it pink" approach, where if the bosses told me to do something, I just did it, occasionally I'd suggest an alternative and that was accepted better than a disagreement.
Acronyms, JDI (just do it) and stage two JFDI - adding a four, or is it seven letter, word to the mix...
In later years, the approach to "just do it" and the get it out on time regardless approach hurt the company. However, in Canada, those two (Larry and Gerry) have been my best bosses, probably because they always gave direction and sometimes gave the occasional high profile bollicking, which was sadly missing with the Dowty bunch - they're very politically correct but sneaky and do a lot of back biting - not that it didn't go on at Menasco that is!
If I could choose a management style it would be the former, having bosses that are willing to go on record and accept blame is always far better than those that are wishy washy and force their minions to make "bad" decisions.
Dancing Queen
June, 2008 :
I got the plans off the web, modified them slightly and built the table from scratch, it was the first time I've used my calculator for a while. Yes, the feeling of building wooden things is brilliant, each time you learn a bit more about wood and a lot more about yourself.
I built one of these about 18 years ago when we moved into our Townhouse, back then it was a kit and I decided that this time I'd just work from a simple plan.
The dancing queen reference? - well, the sister in law, 18 years ago, stated at a party that if we had Abba's Dancing Queen then she would dance on the aforementioned picnic table, and we did, so she did.
I got the plans off the web, modified them slightly and built the table from scratch, it was the first time I've used my calculator for a while. Yes, the feeling of building wooden things is brilliant, each time you learn a bit more about wood and a lot more about yourself.
I built one of these about 18 years ago when we moved into our Townhouse, back then it was a kit and I decided that this time I'd just work from a simple plan.
The dancing queen reference? - well, the sister in law, 18 years ago, stated at a party that if we had Abba's Dancing Queen then she would dance on the aforementioned picnic table, and we did, so she did.
Sell by Date
June, 2008 :
Yes, time is passing by fast but it does that whatever, our day yesterday was spent by taking a boat over to Keats Island, trekking through mature forest and having wine and cheese in a secluded cove by Salmon Rock, and yes the day flew by, today I'll be digging up grass in the front garden and around about three o'clock we'll end up at the pub, drinking Stella (which is on special on Thursdays) and the day will fly by, and I've no need to teach anyone philosophy or point out the bleeding obvious about time left.
The thing that is clear is that we are all on an invisible list and that will not change, there is no choice on our expiry date or the piano, which is already falling. The choice is how we spend the few days left, even micromanage that down to how do we spend today and hope that no silly bugger in a Honda or a logging truck decides to snuff out the precious moments left.
Keep smiling at the wildlife, I was up early yesterday, woke sharp awake at 4.30am and had a few hours around the house before sliding back into bed, during that time the world around me awoke, the birds and allsorts of other critters started their morning chorus and the creek behind the house added it's soundtrack. Then it was morning again, coffee and toast and a boat ride to contemplate. I said to my missus on the boat ride out that I felt like I was thirty again, but feeling young isn't going to stop that bloody piano from falling...
Keep those reflexes up...
Yes, time is passing by fast but it does that whatever, our day yesterday was spent by taking a boat over to Keats Island, trekking through mature forest and having wine and cheese in a secluded cove by Salmon Rock, and yes the day flew by, today I'll be digging up grass in the front garden and around about three o'clock we'll end up at the pub, drinking Stella (which is on special on Thursdays) and the day will fly by, and I've no need to teach anyone philosophy or point out the bleeding obvious about time left.
The thing that is clear is that we are all on an invisible list and that will not change, there is no choice on our expiry date or the piano, which is already falling. The choice is how we spend the few days left, even micromanage that down to how do we spend today and hope that no silly bugger in a Honda or a logging truck decides to snuff out the precious moments left.
Keep smiling at the wildlife, I was up early yesterday, woke sharp awake at 4.30am and had a few hours around the house before sliding back into bed, during that time the world around me awoke, the birds and allsorts of other critters started their morning chorus and the creek behind the house added it's soundtrack. Then it was morning again, coffee and toast and a boat ride to contemplate. I said to my missus on the boat ride out that I felt like I was thirty again, but feeling young isn't going to stop that bloody piano from falling...
Keep those reflexes up...
Nature Watch
June, 2008 :
A new project, a blog dedicated to the wildlife around here :
http://gibsonsnaturewatch.blogspot.com/
I've added a link to all my blogs on the right.
A new project, a blog dedicated to the wildlife around here :
http://gibsonsnaturewatch.blogspot.com/
I've added a link to all my blogs on the right.
Pass me a Tui
March, 2008 :
Its been six months since we quit work in Ontario, well, six months tomorrow anyway. As usual, those months have absolutely flown by, although, a lot has been explored. It was an odd thing moving ourselves across Canada, all new stuff, new pubs, new walks and places, fear, etc. it's a blast.
We went to New Zealand for my sister in laws wedding, it's nice to get another brother in law and the wedding was a hoot. It was a bit odd though with all the family cohabiting in one place, made for interesting and sometimes stress filled moments. We managed to escape the madness a bit, touring Auckland and the local area, also flew down to Queenstown (South Island) where the scenery became a lot more dramatic. As usual, lots of different beers were appreciated, Tui and Radler of note.
It was odd though, New Zealand would have felt bigger if we had never seen the Rockies....
Spring is here and gardening and outdoor projects are starting, have to set up the outside so that (again) beer and wine can be consumed in comfort, the only thing we have to do is put the bbq away at night (we have a ravine and creek behind the house and hence, racoons and bears), In addition, the in-laws are probably going to visit in August, so making the living space bigger will be a blessing.
Its been six months since we quit work in Ontario, well, six months tomorrow anyway. As usual, those months have absolutely flown by, although, a lot has been explored. It was an odd thing moving ourselves across Canada, all new stuff, new pubs, new walks and places, fear, etc. it's a blast.
We went to New Zealand for my sister in laws wedding, it's nice to get another brother in law and the wedding was a hoot. It was a bit odd though with all the family cohabiting in one place, made for interesting and sometimes stress filled moments. We managed to escape the madness a bit, touring Auckland and the local area, also flew down to Queenstown (South Island) where the scenery became a lot more dramatic. As usual, lots of different beers were appreciated, Tui and Radler of note.
It was odd though, New Zealand would have felt bigger if we had never seen the Rockies....
Spring is here and gardening and outdoor projects are starting, have to set up the outside so that (again) beer and wine can be consumed in comfort, the only thing we have to do is put the bbq away at night (we have a ravine and creek behind the house and hence, racoons and bears), In addition, the in-laws are probably going to visit in August, so making the living space bigger will be a blessing.
Jobber Humour
November 28th, 2007
Carlos sent me this :
There has been a spate of incidents where honest, hard working, agency contractors have been seduced into taking permanent staff positions by slipping a drug into their drinks.
The "Rate Rape" drug, as it's come to be known, is a particularly powerful narcotic, with extreme hallucinogenic properties, instilling a feeling of total sensory shutdown in the face of impending poverty.
The concoction - real name "Permicillin" - is usually administered by a Senior Permie Manager in a cup of tea/coffee. Beware of any drinks offered by permies. It may be a trap! The drug is tasteless and odourless and the unsuspecting jobber may only be aware of it several hours after the first ingestion.
Short term symptoms to look out for are :
* Immediate loss of appetite for Steak/Lobster/Champagne.
* Loss of the need to do more than an 8 hr day (maximum).
* The almost overwhelming need to do the current contract for half of the going rate "Just for the love of the Company".
Long term symptoms to look out for are :
* The selling of all luxury toys (motorbikes/sports cars/private jets/yachts ) etc.
* Downsizing and major extensions of loans/mortgage terms etc.
* Becoming known as a "team player".
* Always having "something on" whenever there is a rush job needing to be done.
* Becoming an expert at having meetings to decide what meetings are required.
This is an extremely vicious crime and we must all be vigilant to stamp it out. The only known cure is to immediately down 3 bottles of Moet, then take a ride in a Ferrari and put in two 18 hr days, back to back, followed by a jobber's shopping weekend in New York, flying out Friday night,returning Monday 5.30a.m., then in to work for 7.00a.m of the same morning.
Carlos sent me this :
There has been a spate of incidents where honest, hard working, agency contractors have been seduced into taking permanent staff positions by slipping a drug into their drinks.
The "Rate Rape" drug, as it's come to be known, is a particularly powerful narcotic, with extreme hallucinogenic properties, instilling a feeling of total sensory shutdown in the face of impending poverty.
The concoction - real name "Permicillin" - is usually administered by a Senior Permie Manager in a cup of tea/coffee. Beware of any drinks offered by permies. It may be a trap! The drug is tasteless and odourless and the unsuspecting jobber may only be aware of it several hours after the first ingestion.
Short term symptoms to look out for are :
* Immediate loss of appetite for Steak/Lobster/Champagne.
* Loss of the need to do more than an 8 hr day (maximum).
* The almost overwhelming need to do the current contract for half of the going rate "Just for the love of the Company".
Long term symptoms to look out for are :
* The selling of all luxury toys (motorbikes/sports cars/private jets/yachts ) etc.
* Downsizing and major extensions of loans/mortgage terms etc.
* Becoming known as a "team player".
* Always having "something on" whenever there is a rush job needing to be done.
* Becoming an expert at having meetings to decide what meetings are required.
This is an extremely vicious crime and we must all be vigilant to stamp it out. The only known cure is to immediately down 3 bottles of Moet, then take a ride in a Ferrari and put in two 18 hr days, back to back, followed by a jobber's shopping weekend in New York, flying out Friday night,returning Monday 5.30a.m., then in to work for 7.00a.m of the same morning.
Swinging Doors
November, 2007 :
The last post sort of indicates a mindset that I was in for the last few years of my working life, take that, along with the cynical rants and you can see that, even though I knew I was leaving the business, the business was affecting me deeply.
I don't think it's a complex subject, over time engineering had become a lot less fun because management stole it away from us all, the years of swashbuckling were over, replaced by a clipboard and schedule mentality and an insanity in the industry that turned individuals into resources.
Brendan from APPH emailed me to say that he was working on a job with a chap who spoke highly of me, this made me smile as I recall the man, one of a few remaining characters or "swashbucklers" that I had known in the industry.
I could make a list, but, Alan Marsden was (and still is) a great British draughtsman that I worked with when I was at Menasco between 1994 and late 1998. A gifted board worker who loved to talk about his adventures, definitely a bonus to have on any job, plus a lifeline back to reality of what it used to be about. It's a small world that's for sure and I realise that the aerospace game has been fun, the problem in the last few years, as a lot of us know, has been the infusion of daft practices that have nothing to do with getting landing gear out the door.
The advent of computer aided design and the so called "paperless office" over the last thirty years has shuffled most of the Marsdens out of the swinging doors, yet here is a chap who is still in demand in the industry, someone who can cut through all the bull and produce, on paper, a working design.
Alan would give me that sideways look, his face stern and deadpan. He would point at me and then ask "I hope you have used poissons ratio in your fatigue analysis" and we would both burst out laughing, a tiny comment from an event in his past that would sum up that most of the time, management did not know their arse from their elbow when it came to "what we did"
The last post sort of indicates a mindset that I was in for the last few years of my working life, take that, along with the cynical rants and you can see that, even though I knew I was leaving the business, the business was affecting me deeply.
I don't think it's a complex subject, over time engineering had become a lot less fun because management stole it away from us all, the years of swashbuckling were over, replaced by a clipboard and schedule mentality and an insanity in the industry that turned individuals into resources.
Brendan from APPH emailed me to say that he was working on a job with a chap who spoke highly of me, this made me smile as I recall the man, one of a few remaining characters or "swashbucklers" that I had known in the industry.
I could make a list, but, Alan Marsden was (and still is) a great British draughtsman that I worked with when I was at Menasco between 1994 and late 1998. A gifted board worker who loved to talk about his adventures, definitely a bonus to have on any job, plus a lifeline back to reality of what it used to be about. It's a small world that's for sure and I realise that the aerospace game has been fun, the problem in the last few years, as a lot of us know, has been the infusion of daft practices that have nothing to do with getting landing gear out the door.
The advent of computer aided design and the so called "paperless office" over the last thirty years has shuffled most of the Marsdens out of the swinging doors, yet here is a chap who is still in demand in the industry, someone who can cut through all the bull and produce, on paper, a working design.
Alan would give me that sideways look, his face stern and deadpan. He would point at me and then ask "I hope you have used poissons ratio in your fatigue analysis" and we would both burst out laughing, a tiny comment from an event in his past that would sum up that most of the time, management did not know their arse from their elbow when it came to "what we did"
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Last Gasp
October 22nd, 2007
It was in the last days at Dowty in September that the nice lady from Human Resources wanted input for the magazine, she did not realise (or care) that I was serving the last few days of my notice, so I gave it a shot.
A test guy, Andy, had managed to hoodwink these people once, his lucky "mascot" called "Stretch the Chicken" was shown to the intern, a simple rubber chicken that apparently never left his pocket during important tests and he always gave it a quick "pull" for good luck.
The piece of comedic brilliance ended up in the company magazine, complete with a photograph of the chicken.
The lady took me outside the factory and took a photo, she then asked me to write a paragraph for the magazine and I gave it my best veiled shot, nothing in comparison with Andy's masterpiece, but nevertheless, a month after I left, the following appeared in the 360 degrees newsletter :
Unfortunately, they edited it somewhat, the second paragraph in which I vented that management never listen anyway and should face a firing squad, was, for some reason, not published.
It was in the last days at Dowty in September that the nice lady from Human Resources wanted input for the magazine, she did not realise (or care) that I was serving the last few days of my notice, so I gave it a shot.
A test guy, Andy, had managed to hoodwink these people once, his lucky "mascot" called "Stretch the Chicken" was shown to the intern, a simple rubber chicken that apparently never left his pocket during important tests and he always gave it a quick "pull" for good luck.
The piece of comedic brilliance ended up in the company magazine, complete with a photograph of the chicken.
The lady took me outside the factory and took a photo, she then asked me to write a paragraph for the magazine and I gave it my best veiled shot, nothing in comparison with Andy's masterpiece, but nevertheless, a month after I left, the following appeared in the 360 degrees newsletter :
Unfortunately, they edited it somewhat, the second paragraph in which I vented that management never listen anyway and should face a firing squad, was, for some reason, not published.
Days of Wine and Roses
October, 2007 :
There are three batches of wine on the bubble at the moment, the first two are up in Sechelt, one at Wine & Roses and the other at a place called Eddy Banana's. The third is being rather aromatic in our kitchen hissing away in it's bucket.
Mother made wine, wine out of what appeared to be almost anything, berries, apples, crab apples, elderberries and elder flowers. I think father actually tried a rice whiskey one time, but I never found out what that was like.
Mother would slip a three or five ounce snifter in front of the young fool, probably I was less than a dozen years old and she'd slip me the mickey. If it was elderflower then I'd have no chance, a sweet, syrupy concoction, probably about 15 percent alcohol. It was like drinking perfume, but it was drunk, and after one or three, so was I.
I can imagine this would amuse her no end, seeing little David, always a fool, become a wobbly one, and it was joy and it was life and it was home. The wine cellar, always full of demijohns, popping away as the yeast did it's work and made joy and relief out of everyday things like fruit, sugars and small rodents.
In the coming months I'll try to continue the tradition, as the good lady said today, she knew someone who even made wine out of Christmas Cake.
Hey, I'm up for it.
There are three batches of wine on the bubble at the moment, the first two are up in Sechelt, one at Wine & Roses and the other at a place called Eddy Banana's. The third is being rather aromatic in our kitchen hissing away in it's bucket.
Mother made wine, wine out of what appeared to be almost anything, berries, apples, crab apples, elderberries and elder flowers. I think father actually tried a rice whiskey one time, but I never found out what that was like.
Mother would slip a three or five ounce snifter in front of the young fool, probably I was less than a dozen years old and she'd slip me the mickey. If it was elderflower then I'd have no chance, a sweet, syrupy concoction, probably about 15 percent alcohol. It was like drinking perfume, but it was drunk, and after one or three, so was I.
I can imagine this would amuse her no end, seeing little David, always a fool, become a wobbly one, and it was joy and it was life and it was home. The wine cellar, always full of demijohns, popping away as the yeast did it's work and made joy and relief out of everyday things like fruit, sugars and small rodents.
In the coming months I'll try to continue the tradition, as the good lady said today, she knew someone who even made wine out of Christmas Cake.
Hey, I'm up for it.
Good Friday
October, 2007 :
I'm not missing working one bit, even though some people would think it was a bit like killing the golden goose, you know, prime earning years and all that. I just think that between the age of 50 and 60 should be the prime living years, and with luck, way past that if I master these local walking hills and trails (once I find my boots).
The downward spiral of my mum and dad following my brothers death was so quick, so rapid that it underlined how fragile we all will be at some point. I'm not being morbid about it, but we all really need to make the most of it all.
I've no fear of "going too soon" or "premature ejection" as we like to call it.
In the last three or four days I've started to "get it" or what this retirement thing means, and well, Friday was a good example. Woke at 9.00am, had a coffee and then put a kitchen blind up, then put a bedroom blind up. We'd been over on the ferry to North Vancouver on the Thursday, zoomed around big box stores, took a big fat lunch at a brewpub and caught the late, pitch black ferry back. Fresh air and complete darkness, the hum of the ferry engines and the smell of the sea.
Friday, was a case of install them blinds mister, then as it was cracking the flags, we went off down the road for a walk, the Antique place at the bottom of our road was open and they had an awesome oak desk for my wifes room, so, we bought it and me and the antiques guy hauled it up to the house, he turned out to be the brother of the lady who lived in this house and he knew the guy who built the house, that's the sort of community this is.
So, then, after struggling up the stairs and installing the desk the Weldons went off on our walk again, down the road to Molly's Reach with lots of waterfront action, boats and tugs running backwards and forwards, we took some pix, then walked back up the hill to what has fast become our home.
After about an hour or so, we walked back down to Gramma's pub at the harbour in Gibsons, on the way down we saw a wild deer, a buck, in someones front yard about seven feet away, he looked at the pair of us and then went on with his business, unhurried.
At the pub we had a dozen 40c wings and a couple of cheap jugs of microbrew beer "Howe Sound Landing Lager" and then grabbed a bottle of wine at the off-sales on the way home, walking up the hill with thousands of stars and then back home, with new blinds, a warm house with a log in the fireplace and glasses of wine.
It was a good Friday.
I'm not missing working one bit, even though some people would think it was a bit like killing the golden goose, you know, prime earning years and all that. I just think that between the age of 50 and 60 should be the prime living years, and with luck, way past that if I master these local walking hills and trails (once I find my boots).
The downward spiral of my mum and dad following my brothers death was so quick, so rapid that it underlined how fragile we all will be at some point. I'm not being morbid about it, but we all really need to make the most of it all.
I've no fear of "going too soon" or "premature ejection" as we like to call it.
In the last three or four days I've started to "get it" or what this retirement thing means, and well, Friday was a good example. Woke at 9.00am, had a coffee and then put a kitchen blind up, then put a bedroom blind up. We'd been over on the ferry to North Vancouver on the Thursday, zoomed around big box stores, took a big fat lunch at a brewpub and caught the late, pitch black ferry back. Fresh air and complete darkness, the hum of the ferry engines and the smell of the sea.
Friday, was a case of install them blinds mister, then as it was cracking the flags, we went off down the road for a walk, the Antique place at the bottom of our road was open and they had an awesome oak desk for my wifes room, so, we bought it and me and the antiques guy hauled it up to the house, he turned out to be the brother of the lady who lived in this house and he knew the guy who built the house, that's the sort of community this is.
So, then, after struggling up the stairs and installing the desk the Weldons went off on our walk again, down the road to Molly's Reach with lots of waterfront action, boats and tugs running backwards and forwards, we took some pix, then walked back up the hill to what has fast become our home.
After about an hour or so, we walked back down to Gramma's pub at the harbour in Gibsons, on the way down we saw a wild deer, a buck, in someones front yard about seven feet away, he looked at the pair of us and then went on with his business, unhurried.
At the pub we had a dozen 40c wings and a couple of cheap jugs of microbrew beer "Howe Sound Landing Lager" and then grabbed a bottle of wine at the off-sales on the way home, walking up the hill with thousands of stars and then back home, with new blinds, a warm house with a log in the fireplace and glasses of wine.
It was a good Friday.
Reach the Beach
October, 2007 :
It was a song by The Fixx that came out around 1981 and was always in my mind, it was there in 1985 when I was enjoying pie and peas in the Kings Head pub at Santa Monica while drinking frozen Newcastle Brown ale, it was there in 1987 when I was drinking imported Labatts Blue and planning my escape to Canada from what had been an unfriendly and dark Britain and it was there in 2000 when we buried my dad and the drink of the day was Jameson's.
And it is here now, in late 2007 as I make my home in British Columbia, on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, a place where I can actually reach the beach and a time for a new chapter in the fools life, I know some of you read this and I want to change the direction somewhat, still reporting on the nostalgia of it all, but also reporting day to day observations of "going coastal" and what it's like to stop work too soon, what it's like to wake up each day with too much time on your hands and what a daily pint in an old codgers hands means.
Welcome to the new chapter.
It was a song by The Fixx that came out around 1981 and was always in my mind, it was there in 1985 when I was enjoying pie and peas in the Kings Head pub at Santa Monica while drinking frozen Newcastle Brown ale, it was there in 1987 when I was drinking imported Labatts Blue and planning my escape to Canada from what had been an unfriendly and dark Britain and it was there in 2000 when we buried my dad and the drink of the day was Jameson's.
And it is here now, in late 2007 as I make my home in British Columbia, on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, a place where I can actually reach the beach and a time for a new chapter in the fools life, I know some of you read this and I want to change the direction somewhat, still reporting on the nostalgia of it all, but also reporting day to day observations of "going coastal" and what it's like to stop work too soon, what it's like to wake up each day with too much time on your hands and what a daily pint in an old codgers hands means.
Welcome to the new chapter.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Home
October 2nd, 2007 :
The first week has been nothing related to retirement, camp chairs, camp bed, eating and drinking out of plastic. The wellness aspect has been negated by unreasonably uncomfortable temporary furniture. Add to that, the two feline family members decide to add 15 lbs onto each of our laps in the evening. I'm not feeling any worse, but up to today, I've not been feeling any better.
That changed today, the stuff arrived, so the next phase is just the process of unpacking. The upgrades being I'm sitting on the couch, watching the Toshiba, drinking wine out of a real glass and looking forward to my own bed tonight.
The cats are curled up somewhere else, and that, is a luxury.
The first week has been nothing related to retirement, camp chairs, camp bed, eating and drinking out of plastic. The wellness aspect has been negated by unreasonably uncomfortable temporary furniture. Add to that, the two feline family members decide to add 15 lbs onto each of our laps in the evening. I'm not feeling any worse, but up to today, I've not been feeling any better.
That changed today, the stuff arrived, so the next phase is just the process of unpacking. The upgrades being I'm sitting on the couch, watching the Toshiba, drinking wine out of a real glass and looking forward to my own bed tonight.
The cats are curled up somewhere else, and that, is a luxury.
West Coast Weldon
September 25th, 2007
The weather on the previous four days across Canada had been amazing, so it figured that the last day we would have some rain.
It was going to be around a six hour drive to the ferry terminal at Horseshoe Bay, the first hour of which was raining and I was driving. A downhill slalom course with a shear drop on the right hand side, torrential rain and windscreen wipers running at full tilt, to the left, logging trucks were speeding past and every now and then, Ben, one of our cats, would appear on my left shoulder like a parrot, wondering what all the fuss was about.
We stopped off at a McDonalds in Hope and we were both very tired, the journey was almost over and we'd both had enough. However, once we reached Abbotsford we were in familiar territory, we had second wind and it became a race for the ferry.
Then the incredible feeling as we arrived at the Horseshoe Bay lineup and before we knew it, we drove on and left the cats babysitting the car on the car deck while we hustled up to the top deck, watching the North Shore Mountains move away as Langdale approached.
As the ferry doors opened, we drove onto dry land and we knew we were home.
The weather on the previous four days across Canada had been amazing, so it figured that the last day we would have some rain.
It was going to be around a six hour drive to the ferry terminal at Horseshoe Bay, the first hour of which was raining and I was driving. A downhill slalom course with a shear drop on the right hand side, torrential rain and windscreen wipers running at full tilt, to the left, logging trucks were speeding past and every now and then, Ben, one of our cats, would appear on my left shoulder like a parrot, wondering what all the fuss was about.
We stopped off at a McDonalds in Hope and we were both very tired, the journey was almost over and we'd both had enough. However, once we reached Abbotsford we were in familiar territory, we had second wind and it became a race for the ferry.
Then the incredible feeling as we arrived at the Horseshoe Bay lineup and before we knew it, we drove on and left the cats babysitting the car on the car deck while we hustled up to the top deck, watching the North Shore Mountains move away as Langdale approached.
As the ferry doors opened, we drove onto dry land and we knew we were home.
The Rockies
September 24th, 2007 :
I think the Monday drive was one of our best and also perhaps the longest. It was over twelve hours of solid driving and the cats were a bit fractious at times.
The hotel in Regina offered a free breakfast at 7.00am, so we made sure we were down there reasonably fast at 7.15am, however, the place was deserted. The fact was we were early by one hour due to a time zone shift and we arrived at 6.15am.
The lady laughed and made sure we had enough to eat and as a bonus we had a half hour jump on the day.
The drive through Calgary was magnificent, the Rockies beckoned and we crawled through traffic, to our right we spotted a big bull moose going about his daily business, the traffic choked up due to construction and we spent a lot of time keeping the cats interested in their treats.
It felt like forever, but suddenly we were on open roads again, they became more twisty as we approached the beautiful Rockies and I thought for a moment that it was a shame that my mum and dad had never seen such a sight in their lifetimes.
The drive through the National Park was absolutely the event of the trip, it took a total of about five hours from Calgary to Revelstoke and our spirits were flying as we approached the town.
There had been some mix up via the internet booking and they had not been informed about the cats, however, they gave us perhaps the best room we had on our journey, right by the car parking space. The cats were unloaded once more and we headed out for our late evening dinner, ready for our last day.
I think the Monday drive was one of our best and also perhaps the longest. It was over twelve hours of solid driving and the cats were a bit fractious at times.
The hotel in Regina offered a free breakfast at 7.00am, so we made sure we were down there reasonably fast at 7.15am, however, the place was deserted. The fact was we were early by one hour due to a time zone shift and we arrived at 6.15am.
The lady laughed and made sure we had enough to eat and as a bonus we had a half hour jump on the day.
The drive through Calgary was magnificent, the Rockies beckoned and we crawled through traffic, to our right we spotted a big bull moose going about his daily business, the traffic choked up due to construction and we spent a lot of time keeping the cats interested in their treats.
It felt like forever, but suddenly we were on open roads again, they became more twisty as we approached the beautiful Rockies and I thought for a moment that it was a shame that my mum and dad had never seen such a sight in their lifetimes.
The drive through the National Park was absolutely the event of the trip, it took a total of about five hours from Calgary to Revelstoke and our spirits were flying as we approached the town.
There had been some mix up via the internet booking and they had not been informed about the cats, however, they gave us perhaps the best room we had on our journey, right by the car parking space. The cats were unloaded once more and we headed out for our late evening dinner, ready for our last day.
Goodbye Ontario.
September 23rd, 2007 :
Another early start from Dryden, usual cat struggling and then about an hour into the journey we crossed the border into Manitoba, a province that we would drive through on our trek to Regina, in Saskachewan.
Around 10.00m am we pulled into a small place that was supposed to have a gas station, but there was nothing but crickets chirping, a small detour and we suddenly thought we would have a fuel problem.
The drive across the prairies was a non event, very long, very straight and we shared the driving. The cats, because of the extremely flat and monotonous drive, behaved themselves very well.
Arriving in Regina, we had an upstairs room that was a suite, very nice. We carried the cats upstairs, walked to the off sales of the pub and then realised that we did not want to pay 40 bucks for a bottle of wine. A short drive and we found a liquor store and stocked up for the night.
A visit to the Creekside Brew Pub, a few healthy micro brews and a massive, loaded, nacho's and we were ready for sleep once more, a better day on the road for sure and we were halfway there.
Another early start from Dryden, usual cat struggling and then about an hour into the journey we crossed the border into Manitoba, a province that we would drive through on our trek to Regina, in Saskachewan.
Around 10.00m am we pulled into a small place that was supposed to have a gas station, but there was nothing but crickets chirping, a small detour and we suddenly thought we would have a fuel problem.
The drive across the prairies was a non event, very long, very straight and we shared the driving. The cats, because of the extremely flat and monotonous drive, behaved themselves very well.
Arriving in Regina, we had an upstairs room that was a suite, very nice. We carried the cats upstairs, walked to the off sales of the pub and then realised that we did not want to pay 40 bucks for a bottle of wine. A short drive and we found a liquor store and stocked up for the night.
A visit to the Creekside Brew Pub, a few healthy micro brews and a massive, loaded, nacho's and we were ready for sleep once more, a better day on the road for sure and we were halfway there.
Dryden
September 22nd, 2007 :
In our original planning, we thought we might be able to squeak out of Ontario by the end of day two of our incredible journey, however, we decided that was not to be and we compromised with a second leg from Sault-Ste-Marie to Dryden.
The drive was over ten hours and we had started on quite a dark blustery morning, used a ninja method to put the cats back in the car and just drove. The first hour again was a pain as the two cats went back into panic and crying mode, soon to be replaced with a quiet resolution of annoyed compliance.
The snacks helped, we stuffed granola bars into ourselves and fed the boys Pounce snacks, a handful thrown into the back of the car and a mad scramble. They would then settle again for a few hours.
We noticed, quite thankfully, that they would not use the litter tray while we were mobile.
Dryden was grubby, yet the motel was large and quite adequate and we released the boys into the room and went for a beer, food was passable but it felt like a truck stop, back to the room for a litre and a half of red wine and some welcome sleep after booking the Regina hotel on the internet.
In our original planning, we thought we might be able to squeak out of Ontario by the end of day two of our incredible journey, however, we decided that was not to be and we compromised with a second leg from Sault-Ste-Marie to Dryden.
The drive was over ten hours and we had started on quite a dark blustery morning, used a ninja method to put the cats back in the car and just drove. The first hour again was a pain as the two cats went back into panic and crying mode, soon to be replaced with a quiet resolution of annoyed compliance.
The snacks helped, we stuffed granola bars into ourselves and fed the boys Pounce snacks, a handful thrown into the back of the car and a mad scramble. They would then settle again for a few hours.
We noticed, quite thankfully, that they would not use the litter tray while we were mobile.
Dryden was grubby, yet the motel was large and quite adequate and we released the boys into the room and went for a beer, food was passable but it felt like a truck stop, back to the room for a litre and a half of red wine and some welcome sleep after booking the Regina hotel on the internet.
Sault-ste-Marie
September 21st, 2007 :
It started as any other day, but the house would no longer be ours, papers had all been signed on the Wednesday, the men with the big moving truck had packed all our boxes and belongings away on the Thursday, and here we where, Friday the 21st of September.
In Ontario, jobless and homeless.
The first hurdle of the day was that the garage door refused to work, as if the house was clinging onto us, I still had some fundamental tools for the journey, so after about 45 minutes of faffing about, everything was working again.
We had our coffee and muffins from Tim Hortons, packed the car up, granola bars, portable TV, litter box and laptop. A couple of mugs, some cutlery and a cooler or two with drinks and cat food.
The two cats, the boys, confused by a house with no contents were loaded in the car and in a flourish, the old house was gone and we were off up the road to Sault-Ste-Marie.
It was 11.00 am.
The first hour or so of driving was difficult, the cats did not know what was going on, had little panic attacks and hyper ventilation moments, and then we all settled into an uncomfortable groove.
Sault-Ste-Marie, light was fading as we rolled into the motel car park, unloaded the cats and very quickly washed our hands of everything by finding the nearest pub.
It was going to be an interesting five days.
It started as any other day, but the house would no longer be ours, papers had all been signed on the Wednesday, the men with the big moving truck had packed all our boxes and belongings away on the Thursday, and here we where, Friday the 21st of September.
In Ontario, jobless and homeless.
The first hurdle of the day was that the garage door refused to work, as if the house was clinging onto us, I still had some fundamental tools for the journey, so after about 45 minutes of faffing about, everything was working again.
We had our coffee and muffins from Tim Hortons, packed the car up, granola bars, portable TV, litter box and laptop. A couple of mugs, some cutlery and a cooler or two with drinks and cat food.
The two cats, the boys, confused by a house with no contents were loaded in the car and in a flourish, the old house was gone and we were off up the road to Sault-Ste-Marie.
It was 11.00 am.
The first hour or so of driving was difficult, the cats did not know what was going on, had little panic attacks and hyper ventilation moments, and then we all settled into an uncomfortable groove.
Sault-Ste-Marie, light was fading as we rolled into the motel car park, unloaded the cats and very quickly washed our hands of everything by finding the nearest pub.
It was going to be an interesting five days.
And now we continue.
That was it, the ability to add to the blog was removed as soon as Blogger wanted to verify something with me, my old email address linked to the account was gone and Blogger would not work unless you had a gmail account, of course, they had to verify any change over with the old email address and that, unfortunately, was gone.
It has taken a couple of days of cutting and pasting, but all the archive stuff is back, this new "Fool on the Hill" is active and it will compliment my other blogs by enabling me to vent about all and nothing while keeping themes active on the others.
The website that will link them all is :
http://weldon.web.officelive.com
Onward!
It has taken a couple of days of cutting and pasting, but all the archive stuff is back, this new "Fool on the Hill" is active and it will compliment my other blogs by enabling me to vent about all and nothing while keeping themes active on the others.
The website that will link them all is :
http://weldon.web.officelive.com
Onward!
Tears in Rain
October 26th, 2007 :
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the darkness at Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain"
Bladerunner. 1982.
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the darkness at Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain"
Bladerunner. 1982.
Another one bites the Dust.
October, 2007
No, I'm not talking about another of my ilk kicking the bucket, it's about space invaders.
But, lets think about the word ilk for a moment.....
ok.
When I was spending a lot of my precious time learning the last bit of my Higher National Certificate, HNC, at Wigan and District Mining College, I was also spending every last ten penny piece on a game called Space Invaders.
Until Galaxian came along.
1980 was a year, that's for sure, with the end of my education, the destruction of my drafting career at the mining company Gullick Dobson (despite Arthur Scargills later win) and of course, no more job and no more money for the pub games.
At Gullicks, I'd slip out at lunch time and play a game at the arcade called Lunar Lander, there was a big throttle lever, a pair of massive stereo speakers and a big vector graphics screen. It was an Atari game I think, and it was the cat's ass.
Not the Bee's Knee's as that was a pub up the road in Wigan town centre.
If I could go back and play one of the hundreds of games over the last (almost) 30 years, it would still be Space Invaders, and the venue would be Bluto's night club (upstairs) in Wigan, circa 1979. If ever there was "a kind of" magic, it would be that little night club, Space Invaders on the wall and a little known group called "The Police" walking on the moon in the background.
Oh, and a pint, don't forget the pint.
No, I'm not talking about another of my ilk kicking the bucket, it's about space invaders.
But, lets think about the word ilk for a moment.....
ok.
When I was spending a lot of my precious time learning the last bit of my Higher National Certificate, HNC, at Wigan and District Mining College, I was also spending every last ten penny piece on a game called Space Invaders.
Until Galaxian came along.
1980 was a year, that's for sure, with the end of my education, the destruction of my drafting career at the mining company Gullick Dobson (despite Arthur Scargills later win) and of course, no more job and no more money for the pub games.
At Gullicks, I'd slip out at lunch time and play a game at the arcade called Lunar Lander, there was a big throttle lever, a pair of massive stereo speakers and a big vector graphics screen. It was an Atari game I think, and it was the cat's ass.
Not the Bee's Knee's as that was a pub up the road in Wigan town centre.
If I could go back and play one of the hundreds of games over the last (almost) 30 years, it would still be Space Invaders, and the venue would be Bluto's night club (upstairs) in Wigan, circa 1979. If ever there was "a kind of" magic, it would be that little night club, Space Invaders on the wall and a little known group called "The Police" walking on the moon in the background.
Oh, and a pint, don't forget the pint.
September 19th, 2007
September, 2007 :
The job is (just) about done Christmas Rant.
Well, yes, it is only September and the time of great seasonal indulgences appears to be far off, but, circumstances have encouraged me to write the rant early, a sort of advanced copy of something that won’t be coming in your stockings at the end of the year.
I don’t usually mention names in these finely crafted creations of inadequate wit and poor grammar, but, as this is a very special and premature installment, I will.
Has anyone noticed how big Ron Barlows ears have become? – at one point in the past I convinced John Oh that Ron was a retired boxer and that his ears had grown to enormous size from the constant pounding over the years. This may not be obvious to those in the reading audience who have been giving other parts of their bodies a constant pounding over the years (normally during works time) without any increase in size, but, in the case of boxers ears, they always seem to grow bigger.
But, as you all know, there are bigger issues than Ron Barlow’s ears.
The ship has reached the point of no return as far as taking on water, as you read this I’ll be climbing into a lifeboat on the starboard side, unable to help, or hinder for that matter. As your fearless Captains/Emperors remind you that it’s all up to you, to make things work, I’ll be wearing a nicely constrained yet fashionable Victorian button up number and be using a flare gun to celebrate my departure while toasting my chestnuts.
If you’re expecting the rescue ship Carpathia to arrive before dawn, then good luck, however, in reality the water is extremely cold and the unthinkable truth is that most of you are not going to make it. The ship is going to sink.
The comparison with the Titanic and the Carpathia is perhaps a little off as the crew of the Titanic did fire off as many SOS messages as they could, plus exhausted their supply of flares, to no avail.
And of course they did not wear denim flares, even on a Friday.
It appears that this corporate ship is going down without the crew even considering raising a flag of warning, hundreds of unwilling crewmen, wrapped in silence, incapable of criticism of a regime that has resulted in the destruction of what was perceived as a productive environment.
Although, it could be said that the Flying Squirrel Emporium had the same effect in the late 1980s.
I’ve said it before, and by golly I’ll say it again, the emperor has no new clothes, he is, as the French say, buck nekkid and it’s about time that all of you raised your eyebrows and concerns about what’s happening here onboard and point firmly at his winky.
After all, they can’t send everyone to Peterborough can they?
The Scottish contingent of the escape committee told me the story of the schoolboy visiting the zoo who sees a bear sitting in it’s cage, visibly upset. The schollboy asks why and the zookeeper explains that the bear is sitting on a nail. Why does it not move inquires the young lad? Because, answers the zookeeper, it does not hurt enough.
I looked this story up on the interweb and it continued that there is a lack of what is called chaos for the bear to make the move; actually to want to make the move. So just as the actions have been going on of all time, the bear will continue to sit in it's same place, in the same way, doing the same things; until that moment when chaos is encountered in order to make the bear move.
You’re waiting for your own personal chaos, without it you’ll continue to uncomfortably sit on your nails and hope for the daily darkness to arrive quickly or for prime time programming on NBC to improve dramatically.
Mind you, Graeme Wright is barking mad and spends most of his time relating his world to his childhood heroes of Sooty, Jimmy Clitheroe and Johnny Morris. (For those not familiar, the bear, the schoolboy and the zookeeper) – just a paragraph to make the Scotsman smile.
The last straw on the camels back, or chaos, can arrive in your lives at any point and it can be as simple as an unfortunate miscalculation on managements part about how little money is required to keep you on your nail. This is the ongoing feature film between the downtrodden, exploited proletariat and the smug, controlling bourgeoisie, set to a Rogers and Hammerstein soundtrack.
So a decision is made about how green the grass is and you jump onto another nail at another country club while continuing to contemplate that age old question of exactly how do we solve a problem like Maria?.
John Lennon described us all as “fucking peasants” and that if we wanted to be a working class hero then we should just follow him. Well, I don’t know about you, but moving to a cold city where no one gives a crap and being violently gunned down by a complete stranger is not my cup of tea, hero status or not.
That may still be my fate, although my nemesis may be a tumbling thermos cap followed quickly by the pointy end of a logging truck.
On a much lighter note, the changes in our structure have brought about much merriment, especially the record breaking mid-year musical chairs colocation. I’ve searched the interweb for this word but have found it’s definition elusive when applied to humans.
Although, my colon has been aching with all this movement…..
In a miserable diatribe like this with the cross pollination of Ron Barlow, a 1912 shipping disaster, Danish fairy tales, Marxism and the Sound of Music you’re going to come to the conclusion that it was about time that the cynical curmudgeon shuffled off under his mushroom and turned off the lights.
I agree with you.
As my lifeboat moves off to the horizon, those with sharp eyes amongst you will notice that my Victorian dress has turned into what appears to be a red lumberjacks shirt and trousers, I’m wearing a toque and the lifeboat has morphed into a jet boat.
Call me Nick, call me Relic, but please, don’t call me to find out how to run your programs.
Dave Weldon has left the boat.
Good luck to all of you who deserve it.
The job is (just) about done Christmas Rant.
Well, yes, it is only September and the time of great seasonal indulgences appears to be far off, but, circumstances have encouraged me to write the rant early, a sort of advanced copy of something that won’t be coming in your stockings at the end of the year.
I don’t usually mention names in these finely crafted creations of inadequate wit and poor grammar, but, as this is a very special and premature installment, I will.
Has anyone noticed how big Ron Barlows ears have become? – at one point in the past I convinced John Oh that Ron was a retired boxer and that his ears had grown to enormous size from the constant pounding over the years. This may not be obvious to those in the reading audience who have been giving other parts of their bodies a constant pounding over the years (normally during works time) without any increase in size, but, in the case of boxers ears, they always seem to grow bigger.
But, as you all know, there are bigger issues than Ron Barlow’s ears.
The ship has reached the point of no return as far as taking on water, as you read this I’ll be climbing into a lifeboat on the starboard side, unable to help, or hinder for that matter. As your fearless Captains/Emperors remind you that it’s all up to you, to make things work, I’ll be wearing a nicely constrained yet fashionable Victorian button up number and be using a flare gun to celebrate my departure while toasting my chestnuts.
If you’re expecting the rescue ship Carpathia to arrive before dawn, then good luck, however, in reality the water is extremely cold and the unthinkable truth is that most of you are not going to make it. The ship is going to sink.
The comparison with the Titanic and the Carpathia is perhaps a little off as the crew of the Titanic did fire off as many SOS messages as they could, plus exhausted their supply of flares, to no avail.
And of course they did not wear denim flares, even on a Friday.
It appears that this corporate ship is going down without the crew even considering raising a flag of warning, hundreds of unwilling crewmen, wrapped in silence, incapable of criticism of a regime that has resulted in the destruction of what was perceived as a productive environment.
Although, it could be said that the Flying Squirrel Emporium had the same effect in the late 1980s.
I’ve said it before, and by golly I’ll say it again, the emperor has no new clothes, he is, as the French say, buck nekkid and it’s about time that all of you raised your eyebrows and concerns about what’s happening here onboard and point firmly at his winky.
After all, they can’t send everyone to Peterborough can they?
The Scottish contingent of the escape committee told me the story of the schoolboy visiting the zoo who sees a bear sitting in it’s cage, visibly upset. The schollboy asks why and the zookeeper explains that the bear is sitting on a nail. Why does it not move inquires the young lad? Because, answers the zookeeper, it does not hurt enough.
I looked this story up on the interweb and it continued that there is a lack of what is called chaos for the bear to make the move; actually to want to make the move. So just as the actions have been going on of all time, the bear will continue to sit in it's same place, in the same way, doing the same things; until that moment when chaos is encountered in order to make the bear move.
You’re waiting for your own personal chaos, without it you’ll continue to uncomfortably sit on your nails and hope for the daily darkness to arrive quickly or for prime time programming on NBC to improve dramatically.
Mind you, Graeme Wright is barking mad and spends most of his time relating his world to his childhood heroes of Sooty, Jimmy Clitheroe and Johnny Morris. (For those not familiar, the bear, the schoolboy and the zookeeper) – just a paragraph to make the Scotsman smile.
The last straw on the camels back, or chaos, can arrive in your lives at any point and it can be as simple as an unfortunate miscalculation on managements part about how little money is required to keep you on your nail. This is the ongoing feature film between the downtrodden, exploited proletariat and the smug, controlling bourgeoisie, set to a Rogers and Hammerstein soundtrack.
So a decision is made about how green the grass is and you jump onto another nail at another country club while continuing to contemplate that age old question of exactly how do we solve a problem like Maria?.
John Lennon described us all as “fucking peasants” and that if we wanted to be a working class hero then we should just follow him. Well, I don’t know about you, but moving to a cold city where no one gives a crap and being violently gunned down by a complete stranger is not my cup of tea, hero status or not.
That may still be my fate, although my nemesis may be a tumbling thermos cap followed quickly by the pointy end of a logging truck.
On a much lighter note, the changes in our structure have brought about much merriment, especially the record breaking mid-year musical chairs colocation. I’ve searched the interweb for this word but have found it’s definition elusive when applied to humans.
Although, my colon has been aching with all this movement…..
In a miserable diatribe like this with the cross pollination of Ron Barlow, a 1912 shipping disaster, Danish fairy tales, Marxism and the Sound of Music you’re going to come to the conclusion that it was about time that the cynical curmudgeon shuffled off under his mushroom and turned off the lights.
I agree with you.
As my lifeboat moves off to the horizon, those with sharp eyes amongst you will notice that my Victorian dress has turned into what appears to be a red lumberjacks shirt and trousers, I’m wearing a toque and the lifeboat has morphed into a jet boat.
Call me Nick, call me Relic, but please, don’t call me to find out how to run your programs.
Dave Weldon has left the boat.
Good luck to all of you who deserve it.
Dream
September, 2007 :
It's been 26 years in the making, but, it's about to happen. Within a month, without any major castastrophies (tm)....
I'll reach the beach.
Relax, take it easy.
Every one of us has a place on the map, that's what we're placed here for, it's nothing to do with mum and dad, or brothers, sisters, kids, dogs or cats. It has to do with the global jigsaw puzzle and where we fit in, perhaps for some of you, it's a cubicle at work, perhaps for others it's a hot cup of tea at the two mills with beans on toast on a Sunday morning, perhaps it's right here, right now.
And if it isn't, then do something about it and stop whinging.
It's been 26 years in the making, but, it's about to happen. Within a month, without any major castastrophies (tm)....
I'll reach the beach.
Relax, take it easy.
Every one of us has a place on the map, that's what we're placed here for, it's nothing to do with mum and dad, or brothers, sisters, kids, dogs or cats. It has to do with the global jigsaw puzzle and where we fit in, perhaps for some of you, it's a cubicle at work, perhaps for others it's a hot cup of tea at the two mills with beans on toast on a Sunday morning, perhaps it's right here, right now.
And if it isn't, then do something about it and stop whinging.
CFB Trenton
August, 2007 :
I watched a deceased Canadian Soldier come back to Trenton on the evening news and I was transported back to my younger brothers funeral in 1992. A cold hard day in North Wales, a hint of rain and a gaggle of twenty-somethings with red eyes and knots in their stomachs.
A brother who was eleven years my junior, killed in a senseless way and my entire family hit by it's own personal tsunami.
I miss him, my dear mum, my dad and I miss the boy I was before it all started to be washed away.
I watched a deceased Canadian Soldier come back to Trenton on the evening news and I was transported back to my younger brothers funeral in 1992. A cold hard day in North Wales, a hint of rain and a gaggle of twenty-somethings with red eyes and knots in their stomachs.
A brother who was eleven years my junior, killed in a senseless way and my entire family hit by it's own personal tsunami.
I miss him, my dear mum, my dad and I miss the boy I was before it all started to be washed away.
Signs and Portents
August, 2007 :
All hell is breaking loose at the emporium at the moment, there are people running around like headless chickens trying to do the impossible in the shortest possible time.
Yes, here at ground zero, not only do we attempt the impossible, but we deliver the impossible yesterday. In fact, we can do the improbable and the impractical quicker than any other company and we specialize in the incompatible and the incomplete.
Circle the wagons and send out the crap, even if it’s not finished, we’ll finish it, if it’s deemed as questionable quality, if a deadline is looming, we’ll buy it off.
Ignore the poor little children, hanging upside down in frozen fir trees while their teddies burn on the tarmac, ignore perceived danger and pilot and passenger safety because we must relax our outdated standards.
Hey, don’t forget that there’s a schedule to keep here, an important date is looming and the team must meet it.
(touches nose and points)
You got that one right, Hector!
All hell is breaking loose at the emporium at the moment, there are people running around like headless chickens trying to do the impossible in the shortest possible time.
Yes, here at ground zero, not only do we attempt the impossible, but we deliver the impossible yesterday. In fact, we can do the improbable and the impractical quicker than any other company and we specialize in the incompatible and the incomplete.
Circle the wagons and send out the crap, even if it’s not finished, we’ll finish it, if it’s deemed as questionable quality, if a deadline is looming, we’ll buy it off.
Ignore the poor little children, hanging upside down in frozen fir trees while their teddies burn on the tarmac, ignore perceived danger and pilot and passenger safety because we must relax our outdated standards.
Hey, don’t forget that there’s a schedule to keep here, an important date is looming and the team must meet it.
(touches nose and points)
You got that one right, Hector!
Transition
I had no idea that the complexity of the blogspot system would prevent me, after a couple more posts on the original Fool on the Hill, from ever accessing it again.
Their system depends on a valid email address and we had slowly transitioned to a gmail address over the last few months in Ontario, however, I had not changed the blogger email and that would end up annexing it, in an amazing show of surprising efficiency, Rogers closed off my email address at the end of August.
Blogger then locked me in a loop, I wanted to change my email address with them, but they wanted to confirm using the old one which was essentially a Catch 22.
Well, now I've recreated the blog, we can all move on and I can start using this one for all the inane and silly ramblings once more, until I change emails again....
Their system depends on a valid email address and we had slowly transitioned to a gmail address over the last few months in Ontario, however, I had not changed the blogger email and that would end up annexing it, in an amazing show of surprising efficiency, Rogers closed off my email address at the end of August.
Blogger then locked me in a loop, I wanted to change my email address with them, but they wanted to confirm using the old one which was essentially a Catch 22.
Well, now I've recreated the blog, we can all move on and I can start using this one for all the inane and silly ramblings once more, until I change emails again....
Time to Change
August, 2007 :
If anyone reads this blog on a semi-regular basis, there'll be a time of change, there will be a transitional phase, latency, a sort of communication lag between now and then. In engineering terms I was taught that latency is a time delay between the moment something is initiated and the moment its first effect begins.
In my life, the move from one province in Canada to another has been initiated and the effects, well, the effects will be documented, perhaps not here, because, lets face it, this isn't anything really is it?
Dave latency.
I'm not signing off, just gonna wander about for a bit and be latent, I expect that I will be back soon and maybe, maybe I'll start writing something worth reading or just end up turning into my gaseous state.
Cheers.
If anyone reads this blog on a semi-regular basis, there'll be a time of change, there will be a transitional phase, latency, a sort of communication lag between now and then. In engineering terms I was taught that latency is a time delay between the moment something is initiated and the moment its first effect begins.
In my life, the move from one province in Canada to another has been initiated and the effects, well, the effects will be documented, perhaps not here, because, lets face it, this isn't anything really is it?
Dave latency.
I'm not signing off, just gonna wander about for a bit and be latent, I expect that I will be back soon and maybe, maybe I'll start writing something worth reading or just end up turning into my gaseous state.
Cheers.
Out to Get me.
August, 2007 : Packing everything into boxes
Resistentialism is defined as a “mock philosophy which maintains that inanimate objects are hostile to humans,” and at the weekend, while packing up my room, many inanimate objects ganged up on me all at once to inflict great pain.
Things were against me, that’s for sure. How can I explain how a wall curio display placed it’s way below my foot while my focus was distracted by an errant nail poking out of the wall, the sharp edge threading it’s way between my toes and deliciously applying cold yet white hot pain through my entire leg and into the base of my brain.
How could I explain, besides total lack of coordination, the pliers missing that same nail and biting into the fleshy bit of my palm and then, as a scrumptious third course, when pulling the tea towel off my bench, the resounding thump of a three pound milling leg, possibly the heaviest thing left in the room, tenderizing the second smallest toe on the same foot.
Yum, Yum, Pigs bum.
Resistentialism is defined as a “mock philosophy which maintains that inanimate objects are hostile to humans,” and at the weekend, while packing up my room, many inanimate objects ganged up on me all at once to inflict great pain.
Things were against me, that’s for sure. How can I explain how a wall curio display placed it’s way below my foot while my focus was distracted by an errant nail poking out of the wall, the sharp edge threading it’s way between my toes and deliciously applying cold yet white hot pain through my entire leg and into the base of my brain.
How could I explain, besides total lack of coordination, the pliers missing that same nail and biting into the fleshy bit of my palm and then, as a scrumptious third course, when pulling the tea towel off my bench, the resounding thump of a three pound milling leg, possibly the heaviest thing left in the room, tenderizing the second smallest toe on the same foot.
Yum, Yum, Pigs bum.
King's Men
August, 2007 :
I was rather bemused that the recent bridge failure in the states was spun in terms of "just because the bridge collapsed does not mean it was not safe" which sort of reminds me of my own career in the business "just because the landing gear failed on test does not mean it was not strong enough" and the great Boeing corporation with the "just because the wing failed at 6% lower than the design load does not mean it was not strong enough"
We're all at risk, because we're all human. If we think that the doctor is going to be 100% right in his diagnosis, well, just factor in the human element, six months could be six months, or six days, or the rest of time. They know something, but they don't know everything.
Winging it is part of all our lives, structural engineers, doctors, postmen and brain surgeons. We should learn that this is normal, people will make mistakes and life cannot be programmed like a spreadsheet, macro or remote.
Bridges will fall down, Humpty Dumpty will fall off the wall, and, surprise, kings men and confused horses will be powerless to do anything.
But pick up the pieces.
I was rather bemused that the recent bridge failure in the states was spun in terms of "just because the bridge collapsed does not mean it was not safe" which sort of reminds me of my own career in the business "just because the landing gear failed on test does not mean it was not strong enough" and the great Boeing corporation with the "just because the wing failed at 6% lower than the design load does not mean it was not strong enough"
We're all at risk, because we're all human. If we think that the doctor is going to be 100% right in his diagnosis, well, just factor in the human element, six months could be six months, or six days, or the rest of time. They know something, but they don't know everything.
Winging it is part of all our lives, structural engineers, doctors, postmen and brain surgeons. We should learn that this is normal, people will make mistakes and life cannot be programmed like a spreadsheet, macro or remote.
Bridges will fall down, Humpty Dumpty will fall off the wall, and, surprise, kings men and confused horses will be powerless to do anything.
But pick up the pieces.
Spies
August, 2007 :
It was inevitable, yet I was still surprised, the boss discovered I was selling the house, of course it did not matter, the process was about over, a week or so later on the 19th August I gave in a months notice, one more month until retirement.
It was inevitable, yet I was still surprised, the boss discovered I was selling the house, of course it did not matter, the process was about over, a week or so later on the 19th August I gave in a months notice, one more month until retirement.
Thanks for the Memories
Why does it take you idiots out there so long to realise how good life is, or how much you love your mother, your father or the rest of your family?
Sorry, shouting at myself again.
It was the marketing guru's who put it all into perspective last mothers day, when they reminded us all here in Canada that "Mothers love technology" and of course, Bestbuy, Future Scrap and Circuit City and their source, aka, Intertan, had a little electronic something for all our mumsies.
You know how lovely it is to give your mum a lovely electronic picture frame full of family pictures, but it's always so difficult to find all those pictures to upload where you and your mum are actually together.
I know, I know, I'm guilty too.
Hug your mother today, father too, brothers, sisters, wives and husbands. Find a stranger and hug them, stalk them if necessary.
Just give the love.
Because it's not just mothers that love love.
Sorry, shouting at myself again.
It was the marketing guru's who put it all into perspective last mothers day, when they reminded us all here in Canada that "Mothers love technology" and of course, Bestbuy, Future Scrap and Circuit City and their source, aka, Intertan, had a little electronic something for all our mumsies.
You know how lovely it is to give your mum a lovely electronic picture frame full of family pictures, but it's always so difficult to find all those pictures to upload where you and your mum are actually together.
I know, I know, I'm guilty too.
Hug your mother today, father too, brothers, sisters, wives and husbands. Find a stranger and hug them, stalk them if necessary.
Just give the love.
Because it's not just mothers that love love.
Musical Chairs
July, 2007 :
The music is about to start at the landing gear emporium, we're all moving again, I think it's counter-clockwise this time, moving to the left and slightly up, away from friends and towards team members - or even better towards the girls in the front office.
Its to make us more efficient and as they say, you cannot make an omolette withoot breaking some oeufs.
où est mon agrafeuse ?
It will be chaos for a while, well, to be honest there has been a lot of chaos for a long time with all the ejections, switches, arrivals and departings. It is difficult enough for the money grubbing peons that are left to sort out the reality of it all, so why would another few weeks of lost staplers and crashed computers make it any worse?
nous lutterons contre eux sur les plages
The unstoppable corporate train heads down the tracks and the music plays as the whistle blows, one by one the old chairs are removed and we continue to move to our left and slightly upwards, ever closer to the exciting prospect of once again, making Landing Gears for a living.
Live at the Emporium, this Friday the 13th.
Hawaiian shirts may be worn.
The music is about to start at the landing gear emporium, we're all moving again, I think it's counter-clockwise this time, moving to the left and slightly up, away from friends and towards team members - or even better towards the girls in the front office.
Its to make us more efficient and as they say, you cannot make an omolette withoot breaking some oeufs.
où est mon agrafeuse ?
It will be chaos for a while, well, to be honest there has been a lot of chaos for a long time with all the ejections, switches, arrivals and departings. It is difficult enough for the money grubbing peons that are left to sort out the reality of it all, so why would another few weeks of lost staplers and crashed computers make it any worse?
nous lutterons contre eux sur les plages
The unstoppable corporate train heads down the tracks and the music plays as the whistle blows, one by one the old chairs are removed and we continue to move to our left and slightly upwards, ever closer to the exciting prospect of once again, making Landing Gears for a living.
Live at the Emporium, this Friday the 13th.
Hawaiian shirts may be worn.
Sponsor Me..
July, 2007 :
What is it?
On May 27, 2006, people who've downloaded the Masturbate-a-Thon pledge form and collected pledges from friends and lovers will meet in San Francisco for the Center for Sex & Culture's 5th annual Masturbate-a-Thon. The pledges will be promised for the amount of time the pledgees spend masturbating.
Who will be there?
People of all genders and sexual orientations masturbate... and a subset of them will be at the Masturbate-a-Thon! This means that if you are not comfortable in a space with people who may be different from you, this is not an appropriate space for you, and you may want to tune in from home and watch the Masturbate-a-Thon online.
Can I talk to other people?
Sure! This is a great place to meet adventurous people. However, masturbation for many is a truly solo activity, even in a group. Don't be surprised or offended if some people don't choose to interact with you. Also, there will be absolutely no touching of other people without their prior consent. Doing so will get the "touchy" person thrown out.
How do I win a prize?
Prizes will be awarded for the longest time spent masturbating: we'll allow 5 minutes off per hour for snacks and bathroom breaks; remember, the current record is 7 1/2 hours, so if you want to try for this award, come at 4 pm and pace yourself!
http://www.masturbate-a-thon.com/
And no, I did not make this up.
What is it?
On May 27, 2006, people who've downloaded the Masturbate-a-Thon pledge form and collected pledges from friends and lovers will meet in San Francisco for the Center for Sex & Culture's 5th annual Masturbate-a-Thon. The pledges will be promised for the amount of time the pledgees spend masturbating.
Who will be there?
People of all genders and sexual orientations masturbate... and a subset of them will be at the Masturbate-a-Thon! This means that if you are not comfortable in a space with people who may be different from you, this is not an appropriate space for you, and you may want to tune in from home and watch the Masturbate-a-Thon online.
Can I talk to other people?
Sure! This is a great place to meet adventurous people. However, masturbation for many is a truly solo activity, even in a group. Don't be surprised or offended if some people don't choose to interact with you. Also, there will be absolutely no touching of other people without their prior consent. Doing so will get the "touchy" person thrown out.
How do I win a prize?
Prizes will be awarded for the longest time spent masturbating: we'll allow 5 minutes off per hour for snacks and bathroom breaks; remember, the current record is 7 1/2 hours, so if you want to try for this award, come at 4 pm and pace yourself!
http://www.masturbate-a-thon.com/
And no, I did not make this up.
Mother never told me
I was never warned about this.
I think that all these years of masturbation are taking their toll on me.
Its making me fat.
I think that all these years of masturbation are taking their toll on me.
Its making me fat.
Some things more important than me
July, 2007 :
Part One.
The most influential album in my young years was "Crisis, what Crisis" by Supertramp, not only because it was a fantastic and thoughtful album, but also that, in my little life, the songs and emotion in that album was a timely and grounding soundtrack to my film.
And, a valid point about the importance was that I personally discovered the group, well, John Peel had a hand in it and pointed me in the right direction and also forced me to illegally record that album on compact cassette. I mean, didn't he realise at the time that Home taping was Killing Music?
It didn't actually, and I quietly admit that I did in fact discover Supertramp.
In the years that followed Crisis, I had my own personal crisis, with the soundtrack still playing, through "Crime of the Century", "Even in the Quietest Moments" and "Breakfast in America" and it was Breakfast that resulted in my first divorce.
Well, that and Jerry the Fireman.
Hodgson and Davies didn't actually shag my first wife, or make toast that morning, but they had a hand in it.
Jerry, the man with the hose, had carnival knowledge of the tangible bits but I'm sure that those two monkeys had their hand in it all, working from the other side of the fence, making me react to the situation, especially under the influence of mind altering Asda Lager, forcing my hand and eventually bringing the curtain down.
Joking aside, the closure in the late 1970s of the fools apprentice marriage was by far eclipsed by the sad destruction of the super group that was called Supertramp. The 1982 Album "Famous Last Words" was not only blessed by the poignant track "Its Raining Again" but the final curtain call, the last track on the album, "Don't leave me Now" broke my heart.
It was as though the film had ended, the opening scene in a grubby Enfield Street in Wigan with a light, young and enthusiastic fool with his good friend Mark Gaskell, way back in 1975 backing a light blue Hillman Imp into a parked car and a massive fast forward to the closing credits of a sad, lonely boy and redundancy from the dark mining company, Gullick Dobson six years later, in that same Northern Town. Arthur Scargill, Maggie Thatcher, divorce and botched suicide a distant memory.
Wait, revisionists, six years later, that works out at 1981 not 1982.
The synch track was out, it was in fact 1982. Not 1981 where that final Supertramp album would have worked in the final dub.
So, it became apparent that this super group was far more important than I was, because, they decided to wait, patiently, in the background, while I had my quietest moments and took the long way home.
I miss the group, not from an aspect of soundtrack, but, I think that they would have been better if they had stayed together, it would be fantastic to have experienced their later albums together.
Listening to "Crisis what Crisis" all over again (yes, home downloading is killing music!) makes me realise what I should always remember :
Some things are more important than me.
Part One.
The most influential album in my young years was "Crisis, what Crisis" by Supertramp, not only because it was a fantastic and thoughtful album, but also that, in my little life, the songs and emotion in that album was a timely and grounding soundtrack to my film.
And, a valid point about the importance was that I personally discovered the group, well, John Peel had a hand in it and pointed me in the right direction and also forced me to illegally record that album on compact cassette. I mean, didn't he realise at the time that Home taping was Killing Music?
It didn't actually, and I quietly admit that I did in fact discover Supertramp.
In the years that followed Crisis, I had my own personal crisis, with the soundtrack still playing, through "Crime of the Century", "Even in the Quietest Moments" and "Breakfast in America" and it was Breakfast that resulted in my first divorce.
Well, that and Jerry the Fireman.
Hodgson and Davies didn't actually shag my first wife, or make toast that morning, but they had a hand in it.
Jerry, the man with the hose, had carnival knowledge of the tangible bits but I'm sure that those two monkeys had their hand in it all, working from the other side of the fence, making me react to the situation, especially under the influence of mind altering Asda Lager, forcing my hand and eventually bringing the curtain down.
Joking aside, the closure in the late 1970s of the fools apprentice marriage was by far eclipsed by the sad destruction of the super group that was called Supertramp. The 1982 Album "Famous Last Words" was not only blessed by the poignant track "Its Raining Again" but the final curtain call, the last track on the album, "Don't leave me Now" broke my heart.
It was as though the film had ended, the opening scene in a grubby Enfield Street in Wigan with a light, young and enthusiastic fool with his good friend Mark Gaskell, way back in 1975 backing a light blue Hillman Imp into a parked car and a massive fast forward to the closing credits of a sad, lonely boy and redundancy from the dark mining company, Gullick Dobson six years later, in that same Northern Town. Arthur Scargill, Maggie Thatcher, divorce and botched suicide a distant memory.
Wait, revisionists, six years later, that works out at 1981 not 1982.
The synch track was out, it was in fact 1982. Not 1981 where that final Supertramp album would have worked in the final dub.
So, it became apparent that this super group was far more important than I was, because, they decided to wait, patiently, in the background, while I had my quietest moments and took the long way home.
I miss the group, not from an aspect of soundtrack, but, I think that they would have been better if they had stayed together, it would be fantastic to have experienced their later albums together.
Listening to "Crisis what Crisis" all over again (yes, home downloading is killing music!) makes me realise what I should always remember :
Some things are more important than me.
Never Been
July, 2007 :
I've never been to New York, New York, but in world terms, it's just down the road.
A stones throw away.
The small town Liverpool born lad who was dragged kicking and screaming to California twenty odd years ago and then ended up in Ontario has been about a bit though, been there, done that type of thing.
Not Really.
It's been a laugh that some of the Canadians I've worked with have also never been to New York, or British Columbia, Quebec or Newfoundland for that matter. I even know a few who have not been to see Niagara Falls or even the local nature reserve.
I've been to New York state a few times, but never to the Big Apple (another potential Beatles reference) and it would be nice, but, perhaps before I even get the chance I'll whisk myself off West to be just around the corner from other places I'll never visit.
Nooks and Crannies, never to be seen.
I've never been to New York, New York, but in world terms, it's just down the road.
A stones throw away.
The small town Liverpool born lad who was dragged kicking and screaming to California twenty odd years ago and then ended up in Ontario has been about a bit though, been there, done that type of thing.
Not Really.
It's been a laugh that some of the Canadians I've worked with have also never been to New York, or British Columbia, Quebec or Newfoundland for that matter. I even know a few who have not been to see Niagara Falls or even the local nature reserve.
I've been to New York state a few times, but never to the Big Apple (another potential Beatles reference) and it would be nice, but, perhaps before I even get the chance I'll whisk myself off West to be just around the corner from other places I'll never visit.
Nooks and Crannies, never to be seen.
Curtain Call
July, 2007 :
Had you come some other day then
It might not have been like this
But you see now I'm too much in love
In another day, you would have seen this young man who disliked the Beatles because he thought they detracted from his life, made it look like, although he was from Liverpool, something better had come from there, a group of young men, the best group of the last century and a legacy of songs and lyrics that will, perhaps, never be bettered.
I'm not like that anymore, I think that they define me more than I could ever define myself, more than all those other players "In My Life" have tried to define me, long before I had the chance to even think.
I've done this before, but, I'd like to thank the people who kept me here.
Peter Leece
Sue Liderth
Mike McGuire
Barbara Bell
Nancy Baker
Paul Martin
Karen Gore
Steve Bradshaw
Thank You to every one of you, for some reason you kept me alive when I thought I'd be better off dead.
I will be forever in debt to all of you, for all time.
Well, for another 30 years anyway.
Had you come some other day then
It might not have been like this
But you see now I'm too much in love
In another day, you would have seen this young man who disliked the Beatles because he thought they detracted from his life, made it look like, although he was from Liverpool, something better had come from there, a group of young men, the best group of the last century and a legacy of songs and lyrics that will, perhaps, never be bettered.
I'm not like that anymore, I think that they define me more than I could ever define myself, more than all those other players "In My Life" have tried to define me, long before I had the chance to even think.
I've done this before, but, I'd like to thank the people who kept me here.
Peter Leece
Sue Liderth
Mike McGuire
Barbara Bell
Nancy Baker
Paul Martin
Karen Gore
Steve Bradshaw
Thank You to every one of you, for some reason you kept me alive when I thought I'd be better off dead.
I will be forever in debt to all of you, for all time.
Well, for another 30 years anyway.
Selfishness
July, 2007 :
I'm looking through you Where did you go?
I thought I knew you What did I know?
You don't look different
But you have changed
I'm looking through you
You're not the same
No apologies here, I've been guilty of selfishness over the years, lots of times, that's been justified because of the players in this game that have set out to destroy me.
Gosh, some events in a life cause the river to flow in a direction that was never intended, some people have evil intent or the mirror image of an overwhelmingly good role in the path of being here, to the latter, I say thank you, could not have been here, breathing and thinking, without you.
I'm looking through you Where did you go?
I thought I knew you What did I know?
You don't look different
But you have changed
I'm looking through you
You're not the same
No apologies here, I've been guilty of selfishness over the years, lots of times, that's been justified because of the players in this game that have set out to destroy me.
Gosh, some events in a life cause the river to flow in a direction that was never intended, some people have evil intent or the mirror image of an overwhelmingly good role in the path of being here, to the latter, I say thank you, could not have been here, breathing and thinking, without you.
Say the Word
July, 2007 :
Say the word and you'll be free
Say the word and be like me
Say the word I'm thinking of
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine,
It's sunshine
It's the word, love
In the beginning I misunderstood
But now I've got it,
the word is good
So, why as a Liverpool Lad, would I be the least bit miffled about the Beatles? - well, its a long story, about 50 years of it already have passed, and I'm hoping for about 30 years more.
Perhaps with less animosity towards the group.
It's a thing, most people would ask where you are from, interested in where you are from, and then you'd reply, "Liverpool", and before you knew it, you'd accent that with, "Liverpool, you know, where the Beatles came from" and shoot down your own balloon as suddenly, it's not about you any more, the engineer that came from Liverpool, moreover, it's about those Fab Four who made such great success about their lives, god bless 'em, Fantastic, best group ever, better than anything, super.
Great.
Say the word and you'll be free
Say the word and be like me
Say the word I'm thinking of
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine,
It's sunshine
It's the word, love
In the beginning I misunderstood
But now I've got it,
the word is good
So, why as a Liverpool Lad, would I be the least bit miffled about the Beatles? - well, its a long story, about 50 years of it already have passed, and I'm hoping for about 30 years more.
Perhaps with less animosity towards the group.
It's a thing, most people would ask where you are from, interested in where you are from, and then you'd reply, "Liverpool", and before you knew it, you'd accent that with, "Liverpool, you know, where the Beatles came from" and shoot down your own balloon as suddenly, it's not about you any more, the engineer that came from Liverpool, moreover, it's about those Fab Four who made such great success about their lives, god bless 'em, Fantastic, best group ever, better than anything, super.
Great.
Changes
July, 2007 :
In all my years of self awareness on the planet, I've loved the music of the Beatles, but disliked the association of Liverpool, The fool, and the Beatles.
It's a strange thing, I called my Blog the fool on the hill after a Beatles song, I was born in Liverpool and I have great pride in the work that the group did.
Yet, I've always been a bit miffled.
We can all change, I can change and I'm gonna drop this crap I carry, about the Beatles and quite a lot of other things that could be classed as excessive baggage I've accumulated over the years, perhaps the next few posts will be about that.
In all my years of self awareness on the planet, I've loved the music of the Beatles, but disliked the association of Liverpool, The fool, and the Beatles.
It's a strange thing, I called my Blog the fool on the hill after a Beatles song, I was born in Liverpool and I have great pride in the work that the group did.
Yet, I've always been a bit miffled.
We can all change, I can change and I'm gonna drop this crap I carry, about the Beatles and quite a lot of other things that could be classed as excessive baggage I've accumulated over the years, perhaps the next few posts will be about that.
You have a special message waiting
June, 2007 :
I understand that this blogger thing could already be viewed as a complete waste of time and resources, but I think I've found yet another, perhaps more efficient, forum to destroy time, with the inbuilt benefit of a self subscribed spam channel.
It's called Facebook, or Lucky Face or something like that, another Myspace zone where we can all connect and subscribe both to product placement and enjoy endless emails from the central office keeping us informed that if we log back on there's a special message waiting.
I often log back on, read my special message and then leave a special message for the person that left me one, normally the special messages don't really say that much, a few words or letters, a grunt or an exclamation, but nevertheless, very special.
I'm realising that the interweb isn't just for porn anymore.
I understand that this blogger thing could already be viewed as a complete waste of time and resources, but I think I've found yet another, perhaps more efficient, forum to destroy time, with the inbuilt benefit of a self subscribed spam channel.
It's called Facebook, or Lucky Face or something like that, another Myspace zone where we can all connect and subscribe both to product placement and enjoy endless emails from the central office keeping us informed that if we log back on there's a special message waiting.
I often log back on, read my special message and then leave a special message for the person that left me one, normally the special messages don't really say that much, a few words or letters, a grunt or an exclamation, but nevertheless, very special.
I'm realising that the interweb isn't just for porn anymore.
Use the Fork Luke
June, 2007 :
In fact the Thursday did arrive and once again we’re back on our own.
I have recovered the ability to go commando in my own house and once again the opportunity to have 24 hour sex is offered to the pair of us, but, as usual, not fully utilized.
The next time we will see the parents will be at the other daughters wedding in New Zealand next year. That should be an education to the groom, a house full of afflictions, all with discrete yet demanding food requirements ranging from the ridiculously spicy sector to the inert and benign minority ruled by the knight of the bland table.
One of the better (slightly compiled) quotes of the last three weeks was “You’ve tricked me, I wouldn’t have said that I liked it if I’d known there was garlic in there” and then there was the sossidge event where the honey garlic sossidges, tainted by the evil cousin of the onion family, were shunned even though they were particularly sossidgy and delicious.
Maybe he’s a vampire, mind you that’s probably not true as vampires like tasty and spicy food like Fenella Fielding.
Talking of sossidges, and I don’t know why this is an aside, but I always thought that Butch and Ramsbottom had a rough time on the Sooty show. It was a sort of stolen idea from the Punch and Judy puppet show, for the good guys (Sooty, Sweep) there always had to be an evil pair (Butch, Ramsbottom) and sossidges always came into it somehow, same with Star Wars I suppose, although they called the evil pair the thith and replaced the thossidges with light-thabers.
Right, that’s it, I’m Gonna shut down this particular blog as it’s getting very silly.
In fact the Thursday did arrive and once again we’re back on our own.
I have recovered the ability to go commando in my own house and once again the opportunity to have 24 hour sex is offered to the pair of us, but, as usual, not fully utilized.
The next time we will see the parents will be at the other daughters wedding in New Zealand next year. That should be an education to the groom, a house full of afflictions, all with discrete yet demanding food requirements ranging from the ridiculously spicy sector to the inert and benign minority ruled by the knight of the bland table.
One of the better (slightly compiled) quotes of the last three weeks was “You’ve tricked me, I wouldn’t have said that I liked it if I’d known there was garlic in there” and then there was the sossidge event where the honey garlic sossidges, tainted by the evil cousin of the onion family, were shunned even though they were particularly sossidgy and delicious.
Maybe he’s a vampire, mind you that’s probably not true as vampires like tasty and spicy food like Fenella Fielding.
Talking of sossidges, and I don’t know why this is an aside, but I always thought that Butch and Ramsbottom had a rough time on the Sooty show. It was a sort of stolen idea from the Punch and Judy puppet show, for the good guys (Sooty, Sweep) there always had to be an evil pair (Butch, Ramsbottom) and sossidges always came into it somehow, same with Star Wars I suppose, although they called the evil pair the thith and replaced the thossidges with light-thabers.
Right, that’s it, I’m Gonna shut down this particular blog as it’s getting very silly.
Outside Looking In
June, 2007 :
The in-laws have been visiting for the last three weeks and during this latter stage I don’t know my arse from my elbow regarding days of the week or where I am in time and space.
I’m on the outside looking into the fishbowl, observing the little clown fish, splashing around with no idea, swimming in circles with no concept of the passing of time or an outer world to escape to.
The Mobius trick for the diminutive Moby dick.
If I’m outside looking in and at the same time on the inside looking out, who is typing this diatribe, who is observing the observer looking at the observed, even more important, does the author even know if anyone is ever going to read this, and if they did, would they think that he had lost his marbles completely and why would they not have noticed that there were no question marks in this paragraph.
All I know, is that, if I continue to think that it’s Thursday tomorrow then at some point during the week it will be.
They go away on Thursday.
The in-laws have been visiting for the last three weeks and during this latter stage I don’t know my arse from my elbow regarding days of the week or where I am in time and space.
I’m on the outside looking into the fishbowl, observing the little clown fish, splashing around with no idea, swimming in circles with no concept of the passing of time or an outer world to escape to.
The Mobius trick for the diminutive Moby dick.
If I’m outside looking in and at the same time on the inside looking out, who is typing this diatribe, who is observing the observer looking at the observed, even more important, does the author even know if anyone is ever going to read this, and if they did, would they think that he had lost his marbles completely and why would they not have noticed that there were no question marks in this paragraph.
All I know, is that, if I continue to think that it’s Thursday tomorrow then at some point during the week it will be.
They go away on Thursday.
Fire Fighting
The last blog entry was at a critical point, I was locked in a world where only a couple of people knew what was going on, we had bought a house in Gibsons, British Columbia and the countdown timer was all about selling the Ontario house and Condo.
It did become somewhat of a farce over the following weeks as some information was leaked from our Scottish friends, excited about the direction our lives were heading their enthusiasm resulted in a few hectic moments to contain rampant information spread.
I never underestimate the human nature aspect of things, managers are often very mean and spiteful and it was essential to keep information away from them and earn money down to the wire.
The rumour mill however was in motion and three months of fire fighting was about to start.
It did become somewhat of a farce over the following weeks as some information was leaked from our Scottish friends, excited about the direction our lives were heading their enthusiasm resulted in a few hectic moments to contain rampant information spread.
I never underestimate the human nature aspect of things, managers are often very mean and spiteful and it was essential to keep information away from them and earn money down to the wire.
The rumour mill however was in motion and three months of fire fighting was about to start.
BlogSlip
May, 2007 :
I have to apologise, again, a yearly thing, that I'm letting the blog slip. Too much going on, some to do with what I've talked about before, some new stuff.
In-Laws are arriving next Thursday for 17 weeks in June, they're getting older and I'm gonna make an extra effort this year to make their stay better. I'm going to be busy, with the stuff I can't mention, but be a doting son-in-law and make sure that they have their Tim Hortons on a regular basis.
Life is full of this facade to others at the moment, one plan in the background, another to the front, one dream and one reality. A thousand things to get right without anyone seeing and a few items to please those around me, with everything going on in the background I feel like an observer, my life in stasis and everything else a 24 hour reality TV show.
In October, I hit 50, hopefully, all my plans wil come together, hopefully I will have a 30 year work free blogscapade in front of me, that would be great, can't wait, seems fair don't it?.
Time to put away the calculator and see who I am.
I have to apologise, again, a yearly thing, that I'm letting the blog slip. Too much going on, some to do with what I've talked about before, some new stuff.
In-Laws are arriving next Thursday for 17 weeks in June, they're getting older and I'm gonna make an extra effort this year to make their stay better. I'm going to be busy, with the stuff I can't mention, but be a doting son-in-law and make sure that they have their Tim Hortons on a regular basis.
Life is full of this facade to others at the moment, one plan in the background, another to the front, one dream and one reality. A thousand things to get right without anyone seeing and a few items to please those around me, with everything going on in the background I feel like an observer, my life in stasis and everything else a 24 hour reality TV show.
In October, I hit 50, hopefully, all my plans wil come together, hopefully I will have a 30 year work free blogscapade in front of me, that would be great, can't wait, seems fair don't it?.
Time to put away the calculator and see who I am.
Wait a Minute.
April, 2007 :
So, those there Pussycat dolls, five or six fine, fine, women. Absolutely fantastic, but unfortunately, only one of them (the old bint in the tight spandex camel toe pants) seems to be singing and the other lot are just flapping in the background.
I'm having a go at no talent, but I have to congratulate the rest of the current crop on the countdown, fantastic music and I'm not going to harp back to the eighties and make comparison, as, for all those kids out there, this is their eighties.
But what are they going to call it. The zero's?
Back in the zero's, those groups that could not be surpassed, those Billy Talents, the romantic Chemicals, Three days grace, the Killers, good Charlotte and all those american Idol losers who made it good.
And the supergroups.... oops, there are none.
Music has such energy at the moment, elements of my eighties, times when the clock was ticking but no-one was taking notice, when an extra pint wasn't a waistline worry and we'd never dream of not having more food at midnight.
Sitting here, listening to todays countdown, its cool and warming to think that its still going on out there, while I quaff my wine, relax in my oversize pajamas and think of staying up a minute past eleven o'clock.
It's the rebel in me.
And yes, I'd shag all those Pussycat dolls, even the old one with the voice.
So, those there Pussycat dolls, five or six fine, fine, women. Absolutely fantastic, but unfortunately, only one of them (the old bint in the tight spandex camel toe pants) seems to be singing and the other lot are just flapping in the background.
I'm having a go at no talent, but I have to congratulate the rest of the current crop on the countdown, fantastic music and I'm not going to harp back to the eighties and make comparison, as, for all those kids out there, this is their eighties.
But what are they going to call it. The zero's?
Back in the zero's, those groups that could not be surpassed, those Billy Talents, the romantic Chemicals, Three days grace, the Killers, good Charlotte and all those american Idol losers who made it good.
And the supergroups.... oops, there are none.
Music has such energy at the moment, elements of my eighties, times when the clock was ticking but no-one was taking notice, when an extra pint wasn't a waistline worry and we'd never dream of not having more food at midnight.
Sitting here, listening to todays countdown, its cool and warming to think that its still going on out there, while I quaff my wine, relax in my oversize pajamas and think of staying up a minute past eleven o'clock.
It's the rebel in me.
And yes, I'd shag all those Pussycat dolls, even the old one with the voice.
Can't Shake this Attitude
March, 2007 :
In a way, I applaud the government and their stand on extending the RRSP cut off age to 71 years of age, this means I can make tax-deferred retirement savings for the next 21 years and reap the benefits in my twilight years.
Why do I applaud, loudly?
Well, it helps those guys who are still working past 65 years of age, helps them plan for their retirement when they hit 72
hello?
Arthur, my dad, died at 73, my mum, the lovely Dorothy, died at 72.
True, they smoked like chinineys and ate battered deep fried loveliness all their lives with bread, butter and a post-war disregard for anything that tasted like cardboard.
Nevertheless, Hear me please, ignore those politicians.
Retire early.
Relax.
Drink.
Throw small stones at passers by.
In a way, I applaud the government and their stand on extending the RRSP cut off age to 71 years of age, this means I can make tax-deferred retirement savings for the next 21 years and reap the benefits in my twilight years.
Why do I applaud, loudly?
Well, it helps those guys who are still working past 65 years of age, helps them plan for their retirement when they hit 72
hello?
Arthur, my dad, died at 73, my mum, the lovely Dorothy, died at 72.
True, they smoked like chinineys and ate battered deep fried loveliness all their lives with bread, butter and a post-war disregard for anything that tasted like cardboard.
Nevertheless, Hear me please, ignore those politicians.
Retire early.
Relax.
Drink.
Throw small stones at passers by.
The Price of Fish
March, 2007 :
I don't need to remind myself that my wife's parents are arriving at the end of May for a twelve week stay in June.
She blinded me with Science!
I make a PC for Allan, my father in law, every year.
This year, I know he'll want to play World of Warcraft, so I can't get by without building a half decent box. I build him a box because I know he feels comfortable in the fact that he can infect, destroy and mutilate whatever I build him without my eyebrows becoming enormous.
If its not mine that's broked I can fix it.
So, back to the price of fish. In 1991 I bought a 386, 33mhz, with 16mb ram, floppy, 200mb of hard drive and a modem for the grand total of $4800 including a 24 pin Star NX2400 dot matrix printer and a 14 inch monitor.
Today, through the ex-lease guru nearby I bought a Pentium 4, 2.4ghz, with 1gb ram, 40gb of hard drive, 10/100 NIC, CDrom, Floppy and all those bells and whistles that did not exist 16 years ago. $225
The extra 100mb of hard drive, my upgrade from 100 to 200mb, back in 1991 cost me $225, Ram was $90 a megabyte and banana's were still less than 40 cents a pound.
Enter four Yorkshiremen.....
I don't need to remind myself that my wife's parents are arriving at the end of May for a twelve week stay in June.
She blinded me with Science!
I make a PC for Allan, my father in law, every year.
This year, I know he'll want to play World of Warcraft, so I can't get by without building a half decent box. I build him a box because I know he feels comfortable in the fact that he can infect, destroy and mutilate whatever I build him without my eyebrows becoming enormous.
If its not mine that's broked I can fix it.
So, back to the price of fish. In 1991 I bought a 386, 33mhz, with 16mb ram, floppy, 200mb of hard drive and a modem for the grand total of $4800 including a 24 pin Star NX2400 dot matrix printer and a 14 inch monitor.
Today, through the ex-lease guru nearby I bought a Pentium 4, 2.4ghz, with 1gb ram, 40gb of hard drive, 10/100 NIC, CDrom, Floppy and all those bells and whistles that did not exist 16 years ago. $225
The extra 100mb of hard drive, my upgrade from 100 to 200mb, back in 1991 cost me $225, Ram was $90 a megabyte and banana's were still less than 40 cents a pound.
Enter four Yorkshiremen.....
Waking up Saturday when it's Thursday.
Oh, I just hate that. Woke up at five this morning and thought it was Saturday.
It's Thursday.
And just because survivor was on last night (Wednesday) instead of tonight (Thursday) would not have made it Saturday anyway.
But Friday would have been better than Thursday.
And Tomorrow still isn't Saturday.
Drat.
It's Thursday.
And just because survivor was on last night (Wednesday) instead of tonight (Thursday) would not have made it Saturday anyway.
But Friday would have been better than Thursday.
And Tomorrow still isn't Saturday.
Drat.
World of No Craft
March, 2007 : temptation....
I've been cheating a bit with the Warcraft thing, been running a gnome mage on a free 10 day pass and enjoying the ding.
It's all about the ding.
The Burning Crusade has come down 10 bucks and it won't be long before the summer ends and I'll need the full time Warlock fix again.
In the interim, free pass play and Xbox live with the new Ghost Recon.
Oh, and painting and packing and planning. Squeeze the real life into the equation.
A reality ding.
I've been cheating a bit with the Warcraft thing, been running a gnome mage on a free 10 day pass and enjoying the ding.
It's all about the ding.
The Burning Crusade has come down 10 bucks and it won't be long before the summer ends and I'll need the full time Warlock fix again.
In the interim, free pass play and Xbox live with the new Ghost Recon.
Oh, and painting and packing and planning. Squeeze the real life into the equation.
A reality ding.
Troublemaker
March, 2007 :
I'm keeping the blog up for my Korean friends, although one of them spends most of his time in a bubble bath drinking herbal tea and the other is fighting for survival at the other landing gear company in the west.
So, they probably don't notice.
It's been an odd week, the new group based IPT system at work is starting to not work and the displaced director/classic boss types are flexing their weak muscles in an attempt to show they still mean something. The design guy has been sending lots of emails with BOLD characters to make people AWARE that, although he is not what he was, he still is a major PLAYER in the COMPANY.
He might be right, might be wrong, but why does he even care if his responsibilities have been stripped and lay on the desert floor next to his epaulettes?
Then the other one, the evil, shifty, lying creep. He's not really changed. He strips the dry skin from his lips and vibrates his knee as though he's running a sowing machine and we all do our best to not get caught when he patrols the office cubicles 40 times a day, but, we still do.
I try to make trouble and drive him crazy, other resident peeps just drive him crazy because they breathe. The unspoken ones who left are still spoked about and blamed for their bad, bad work.
Bad monkeys.
My Korean buddies are safe, they've gone and found the better places, they both know I'm going to join them soon. well, not in the bath, not in the industry.
And not in this province.
I'm keeping the blog up for my Korean friends, although one of them spends most of his time in a bubble bath drinking herbal tea and the other is fighting for survival at the other landing gear company in the west.
So, they probably don't notice.
It's been an odd week, the new group based IPT system at work is starting to not work and the displaced director/classic boss types are flexing their weak muscles in an attempt to show they still mean something. The design guy has been sending lots of emails with BOLD characters to make people AWARE that, although he is not what he was, he still is a major PLAYER in the COMPANY.
He might be right, might be wrong, but why does he even care if his responsibilities have been stripped and lay on the desert floor next to his epaulettes?
Then the other one, the evil, shifty, lying creep. He's not really changed. He strips the dry skin from his lips and vibrates his knee as though he's running a sowing machine and we all do our best to not get caught when he patrols the office cubicles 40 times a day, but, we still do.
I try to make trouble and drive him crazy, other resident peeps just drive him crazy because they breathe. The unspoken ones who left are still spoked about and blamed for their bad, bad work.
Bad monkeys.
My Korean buddies are safe, they've gone and found the better places, they both know I'm going to join them soon. well, not in the bath, not in the industry.
And not in this province.
Spam Jihad
March, 2007 :
Whats going on?, seems to me that there's an avalanche of spam, here, there and absolutely everywhere.
I'm flattered of course, it's nice that important people in foreign countries need my help to process incredible amounts of money, but its a bit puzzling that Paypal, Visa, The Halifax Building Society and the Homosexual Mail order association want me to verify my login information when I'm not a customer or client of any of them, well, maybe just one.
Just say no.
My ISP provides a spam filter, but it's just not working. I have more than ever. Its the same at work and I'm sure their firewall is far better than anything I could muster.
Therefore, we must mobilise and collectively fight spam at every level, it's critical that as many people as possible know this, so I ask you to please send this important message to everyone you know.
Thanks, and by the way, when I receive my $480,734.31 from Mr Ugam Ubarbie, I will throw a huge party and buy all my friends beer and munchies.
You know who you are.
Whats going on?, seems to me that there's an avalanche of spam, here, there and absolutely everywhere.
I'm flattered of course, it's nice that important people in foreign countries need my help to process incredible amounts of money, but its a bit puzzling that Paypal, Visa, The Halifax Building Society and the Homosexual Mail order association want me to verify my login information when I'm not a customer or client of any of them, well, maybe just one.
Just say no.
My ISP provides a spam filter, but it's just not working. I have more than ever. Its the same at work and I'm sure their firewall is far better than anything I could muster.
Therefore, we must mobilise and collectively fight spam at every level, it's critical that as many people as possible know this, so I ask you to please send this important message to everyone you know.
Thanks, and by the way, when I receive my $480,734.31 from Mr Ugam Ubarbie, I will throw a huge party and buy all my friends beer and munchies.
You know who you are.
Technology
It's amazing what kids have nowadays, VCRs, TVs, Stereos and MP3 players, Computers and even cellphones. Well, that's nothing new as I had it all when I was a kid, just slightly different but fully functional.
The VCR.
Well, slightly different, but I had my Chad Valley Give a Show projector and a device called Flashy Flickers that I could show slides and movies (sort of) on the ceiling, as long as my batteries lasted. I even had a little 8mm projector with such fantastic movies as The Munsters, The Lone Ranger and Rocky and Bullwinkle, well, maybe not the Bullwinkle, and certainly not Rocky, but the loan arranger was in there, oh no, that's not true, he only arrived when I was seventeen.
The TV.
Well, it wasn't mine, but, it was a spare black and white TV that was in the front room, the front room for those who are not familiar with the term, was the best room, with furniture that wasn't used and yes, spare tellies to impress the neighbours. The TV I spent a lot of time watching, and illegally adjusting to prevent oblong heads when it was warm, was my one link to the Munsters (again), the Adams Family and of course My favourite Martian.
The Stereo.
Mono, Fidelity boxed record player, Victor Borge and Tommy Steele with his Little White Bull. There was also the lovely Chad Valley Close and Play 45 rpm record player. As time went by, Little White Bull was turned into a frisby with this marvellous device.
MP3 player
I had a little tape machine, reel to reel, a miniature version of my mums Grundig TK20. The most fantastic thing I ever recorded was the theme song from Gerry Andersons UFO. That was played a thousand times. Duh-du-duh-duh, duh-dudu-dudu-duh-duh-da-dur.
The Computer.
Easy this one, it was called an Etch-a-Sketch. And my brother Robert was the king of all sketchers.
Cellphone.
Not one of the devices today had the features of my Dan Dare radio transmitter. Notepad, Morse Code, rotating Flashlight, Electronic radio with a range as long as the connector wires and a buzzer. A classic. I still have it, well, I have someone elses actually.
It was a fantastic time and without the technology, I would never have made it. The only difference really between me back then and the kids nowadays is that my mother would play the tyrant and simply decide what I was eating at every meal and make me eat what was on my plate, even those horrible brussels sprouts.
And no technology on Earth could save me from that.
The VCR.
Well, slightly different, but I had my Chad Valley Give a Show projector and a device called Flashy Flickers that I could show slides and movies (sort of) on the ceiling, as long as my batteries lasted. I even had a little 8mm projector with such fantastic movies as The Munsters, The Lone Ranger and Rocky and Bullwinkle, well, maybe not the Bullwinkle, and certainly not Rocky, but the loan arranger was in there, oh no, that's not true, he only arrived when I was seventeen.
The TV.
Well, it wasn't mine, but, it was a spare black and white TV that was in the front room, the front room for those who are not familiar with the term, was the best room, with furniture that wasn't used and yes, spare tellies to impress the neighbours. The TV I spent a lot of time watching, and illegally adjusting to prevent oblong heads when it was warm, was my one link to the Munsters (again), the Adams Family and of course My favourite Martian.
The Stereo.
Mono, Fidelity boxed record player, Victor Borge and Tommy Steele with his Little White Bull. There was also the lovely Chad Valley Close and Play 45 rpm record player. As time went by, Little White Bull was turned into a frisby with this marvellous device.
MP3 player
I had a little tape machine, reel to reel, a miniature version of my mums Grundig TK20. The most fantastic thing I ever recorded was the theme song from Gerry Andersons UFO. That was played a thousand times. Duh-du-duh-duh, duh-dudu-dudu-duh-duh-da-dur.
The Computer.
Easy this one, it was called an Etch-a-Sketch. And my brother Robert was the king of all sketchers.
Cellphone.
Not one of the devices today had the features of my Dan Dare radio transmitter. Notepad, Morse Code, rotating Flashlight, Electronic radio with a range as long as the connector wires and a buzzer. A classic. I still have it, well, I have someone elses actually.
It was a fantastic time and without the technology, I would never have made it. The only difference really between me back then and the kids nowadays is that my mother would play the tyrant and simply decide what I was eating at every meal and make me eat what was on my plate, even those horrible brussels sprouts.
And no technology on Earth could save me from that.
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