Wordy Wednesday

Excursion

I've just returned from an enforced day out. My car needed its annual service and MOT, and the garage is about 20 minutes away by car, but an hour and a half by bus, since you have to change twice and the hourly timetables don't match up well. So rather than spend 3 hours getting to and from what would end up being a half day at work, I spent the day in the nearby town.

There were a couple of things I needed to do - pay a cheque into the bank (more about that later), buy a belt, some ear-drops and some ink, and the shops weren't open when I got there, so I spent an hour or so in Starbucks. I'd brought some books with me.

Half an hour later, I'd done my shopping. Half an hour after that I'd done the local museum and art gallery - a meagre collection of bits and pieces dug out of people's gardens and a handful of paintings, many of which were so dark you couldn't really make much out.

I lunched at McDonald's, and even got so bored that I went round the bookshops. I used to like shopping for books, but for some strange reason the shops round here don't stock any in Greek.

I was lucky with the weather - it had rained all day yesterday, but today was dry, and I did finish my book ("The Tenth Photograph", by Giorgos Pavlidis, which had a nail biting climax) but I think I'd rather have spent the day at work.

Monopoly Moment

The other week I had a "Monopoly moment". My ex handed me a letter that had arrived at her house for me, and it was from a bank. You know the Monopoly card that says "Bank error in your favour"? Well, it was like that. They'd discovered that they made a mistake about 10 years ago, and enclosed a cheque for the amount plus interest. It was only a small amount, but I was very pleased as I didn't realise that these things happened in real life. I suppose the next audit they do they'll find I owe them a few million...

Nasal Sex

I was checking my spam the other day - I hardly ever do this, and I was surprised that I had so little. Perhaps the spammers are being credit-crunched. Anyway, one of the mails had the title "Make it as hard as Pinocchio's nose".

I suppose I'm naive and innocent, but it had never occurred to me that the story of the loveable wooden puppet and his expanding organ had hidden sexual overtones. My female readers are probably going to tell me that they've all fantasised about this (actually if you have, please don't tell me), and no doubt a shrink on hearing that a patient had been exposed to this perversity as a child would prescribe an expensive course of pyschiatry and suggest that they sue the parents.


I've never seen the film, which is probably why I'm so normal. And innocent.

Uninformed

I went shopping today, as I didn't even have enough milk for a cup of coffee. Being Saturday, I got up fairly late and had a quick scan of the Phileleftheros paper until my stomach started growling "lunch" at me, so I got to the supermarket by about midday.

I think everyone else got up late and had a quick scan of the paper and went shopping with their stomachs nagging them, because they all appeared to be there too.

"There may be longer than usual delays at the checkout"

I don't tend to go to the supermarket at set times, so perhaps I just hit a Saturday lunchtime rush. But there could be lots of other reasons.

The Long Weekend

There's a long weekend to celebrate the start of Greek Orthodox Lent on Monday. But the place wasn't full of Greeks with trolleys full of kebabs, so I suspect that's not it.

The Weather

Maybe there's bad weather on the way. There were heavy rain and hail storms in Cyprus on Thursday and Friday. One man lost control of his car and was killed, whilst another was struck by lightening while picking vegetables. In Bee's part of the world they've also had storms, causing her to be temporarily absent from the Internet. Naturally I've no idea what they're predicting in Britain, so I panic-bought t some extra supplies of bottled water just in case, to supplement the 8 litres I already had in my flat.

The Economy

Maybe the credit crunch is over or something. Perhaps banks have dropped their interest rates and are lending people money to make them go out and shop and get in front of me in the queues. After all, various companies and banks were reporting profits the other day. In Cyprus.

Sex Marathons

I was reading about a Russian man who had a 12-hour non-stop sex marathon with 2 women. They had bet them €5000 that he couldn't do it. Why him? Women never approach me with offers like that.

They reckon it was the 30 viagra pills he took (one packet) that actually caused his fatal heart attack shortly afterwards. What's this got to do with shopping? Well, if he had survived he would no doubt have rushed, starving, to the supermarket. Maybe all the extra people there today had just finished 12 hour marathons, possibly for charity (there was some kind of collection going on today, now I come to think of it). One tired-looking couple had two huge trolley loads of groceries between them. If I'd thought about it at the time I could have asked them.

Pay Day

Most of us got paid yesterday, so maybe people are simply going out to spend their money. However I refuse to believe this reason because it's far too prosaic.

Now I know what you're thinking. Would it really hurt me that much to take a peek at a British paper, or the UK news? The answer, of course, is that it would. Because then I'd know. And that would be no fun.

Inappropriate Card Day 2009

For the second year running, we celebrate Diesel's Inappropriate Card Day.

Wordy Wednesday - The Great Depression

False Economy

Apparently the economic crisis is much worse than I thought. You know that things are getting bad when a man can no longer afford to have a hobby.

A Chinese businessman was an avid collector - of women. In addition to a wife, he kept five mistresses in rent-free accomodation, and was paying each of them an allowance of £500 a month.

This is an expnsive hobby during a Depression, so he decided to limit himself to just one mistress. Plus the wife, of course. I'm sure you'll agree he was showing just the kind of restraint and financial prudence that our great world leaders are advocating.

But which one should he keep? He hired someone from a modelling agency to run a contest for the five women, where they would be judged on their looks, singing and drinking abilities would be judged. The news reports don't say whether they had to be able to sing and drink at the same time. Something that's harder than it looks.



Anyway, the first of the mistresses to be knocked out of the contest by China's answer to Simon Cowell offered to take the businessman and the four women for a drive to show that there were no hard feelings. Of course, her intention was to get revenge. She drove the car off a mountain road.

Unfortunately for her, she was the only one of them who was killed, but unfortunately for our businessman, not only have the other four mistresses dumped him, but his wife's divorcing him as well. It would no doubt have been cheaper for him to have just kept the five women.

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Divine Endowment

Someone whose assets are certainly not in trouble is Salma Hayek. Bee hinted that there was a story involving her and her breasts, and so of course I had to do some research with the aim of entertaining and ediying my readers. I hope you appreciate the lengths I go to, and the hardships I endure.

The story turned out to be boring, and Ms Hayek's gifts are in any case a serious matter, not to be made light of. Apparently she was flat chested until she went on a pilgrimage with her mother and prayed to be, er, blessed.


Is there a God after all?

Love in Bath

Today I'm going to talk about a large irascible German, the grandson of a Lancastrian laxative magnate, and we'll throw in some ballerinas for good measure.


Right, that's the ballerinas out of the way. I'm afraid that ballet leaves me completely unmoved. However, it's an unavoidable part of today's subject, as you'll see.

Here's the quick-tempered German.

George Handel (1685 - 1759). Some of my longer-standing readers will no doubt remember a previous post about him (Swearing in Eight Languages). He came to Britain in 1712 and stayed here, eventually becoming a British citizen. His former employer, the Prince of Hanover followed him over a couple of years later, when he got the job of King here and became George I.

Handel was a brilliant composer who wrote the music to lots of operas. Unfortunately since operas were foreign (the words were in Italian), and they were put on in theatres, which were considered sinful dens of iniquity, he had difficulty making a living. Theatres used to only be allowed to open a few days of the year, and all it took was some notable person to die, or a war, or whatever, and the government would close them out of respect.

Handel's other problem was that there was competition - another theatre on the same street used to put operas on. Even though Handel had the royal family going to his operas (which was considered a bit scandalous), they failed to make a profit.

So he turned to religion and wrote Oratorios instead, which are basically operas about Biblical stories where the singers don't dress up. He did write ballet, but I don't think I've listened to any of it.

Finally, here's a well-off Englishman
Sir Thomas Beecham, Bart, CH (1879 - 1961). His grandfather was a Lancastrian industrialist who made a fortune from laxatives ("Beecham's Pills Make All The Difference"), and he became one of the greatest conductors of his time.

He was also acquainted with royalty - if the following conversation from Wikipedia is to be believed, which apparently took place in his later years. He was talking to a woman whose name he couldn't remember, and asked her how she was:

"Oh, very well, but my brother has been rather ill lately."

"Ah, yes, your brother. I'm sorry to hear that. And, er, what is your brother doing at the moment?"

"Well... he's still King", replied Princess Mary.

I know how he felt. I often forget names and faces, too.

Anway, fast forward to the early 1990s, when I was a student. I used to buy a lot of recordings, usually on casette tape, and quite a few of them were Beecham's later orchestral recordings of Mozart, Haydn, Schubert and so on. One of them was an arrangement he made of some of Handel's music.

A lot of Handel's operas weren't really well known until they started to be recorded near then end of the 20th Century - remember that no-one had gone to the operas in the 18th Century, so Beecham had arranged some of this music as orchestral suites, a piano concerto, and ... a ballet. Called Love in Bath.

I don't know much about the ballet, but I don't think it's got anything to do with any kinky goings on in the tub. the Bath in question is this one:


These sort of arrangements aren't really rated very highly these days, since people can get the original operas on CD, but I listened to that tape until it wore out. And then I found they'd stopped selling it.

I haven't bought CDs for ages - I don't listen to much music these days. But I had a look on Amazon the other day and found they'd used Love in Bath as filler on one of Handel's oratorios, and immediately ordered it. Along with a CD of excellently transfered 78 recordings of his other Handel arrangements.

It arrived this morning, so I've been spending happy hours listening, and remembering the year I spent in as a student teacher in Lancaster. One day I'll write about that, I think. But right now, I must go and get Helena.

Round and Round

The World-famous Magic Roundabout in Swindon [Source]

FADKOG has been complaining about the number of roundabouts ("circles" in US English) in Britain. I don't know when she last graced these shores with her presence, but in recent years they have been multiplying.

Of course, I could complain about America's infamous four way stop intersections, but we'll let that pass. For the time being.

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Imaginary Flagpoles

We have a government publication here called the "Highway Code". This describes how one should behave as a road user, though it isn't actually the law.

Excerpt from The Highway Code, 1931

I haven't looked at it since I learned to drive twenty years ago, but in those days there was the rule about the imaginary flagpole.

If two cars going in opposite directions both wish to turn right at a junction (remember this is like a left turn for those who drive on the wrong side of the road), instead of passing in front of each other, they should both pass behind, as if going round an imaginary flagpole situated in the centre of the junction.

My driving instructor informed me that "round here" people don't do this, they pass in front. He didn't explain what to do if I went anywhere else in the country. Things could get a little messy if the other driver tried to go round me and I didn't. At the very least I'd probably collide with an imaginary flagpole.

Luckily, most junctions have very well defined markings about where to go, and traffic lights, filters, and so on. Or they're roundabouts.

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Roundabouts

The rules for roundabouts are relatively simple. During the War, they were treated as highly classified military secrets, so that if we were invaded the enemy troops wouldn't know how to get past them and would probably just go round in circles. This was a tried and tested strategy, which had kept the likes of Napolean out, and us invader free since 1066 (Sadly for the Saxons, roundabouts were a Norman invention). It's why Hitler tried to invade Britain by air instead of landing ground forces.


Since we are now members of the EU along with all our natural enemies, the rules have been declassified and are in the public domain:

ROUNDABOUT RULES

1. Go round in a clockwise direction.

2. Give way to traffic already on the roundabout.

3. Give way to traffic coming from your right.

4. If you wish to leave the exit after your entrance, signal left as you approach the roundabout.

5. If you wish to go round the roundabout more than 180 degrees or so, signal right as you approach the roundabout. Unless your exit is to your right, but is morally deemed to be straight on.

6. Once on the roundabout, signal left as you pass the exit before the one you wish to take.

In order to protect against the Boche getting hold of a copy of these, and to further confuse them, motorists were told in 1914 to disregard rules 4 - 6, and not to give away their intentions by indicating, and this practice has been maintained on roundabouts to the present day. Drivers are advised to try mind-reading, and a seventh rule has been added:

7. Don't hit anyone.

Of course the most famous and fascinating roundabout is not in Britain, but at the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.

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Mini Roundabouts

The mini roundabout was invented as part of an initiative by the country's planning authorities to stop motorists (and planning authorities) getting bored. The grand plan appears to be to replace all junctions which are too small to have traffic lights or real roundabouts with these things.


As their name suggests, they're easy to miss, and because they're so small most of the rules about priority tend to go out of the window since otherwise there's the real risk of a Mexican standoff where everyone is giving way to the driver on their right. In order to prevent this, rule 7 was amended to its present form.

7. At mini roundabouts, forget all other rules, put your foot down and try to get to your exit without hitting anyone.

This rule should be familiar to Americans, since it's the same one they use for the four way stop intersection.

Just in case you're not confused enough, here's an explanatory video. Sorry about the ropy sound.

Wordy Wednesday: Tetartophobia

As you know, this blog tries to bring you the very latest news about man's great progress onwards and upwards. Today, we look at a breakthrough of medical science.

Frustrated by the lack of progress on the great clean up of the planet, which should be getting rid of such menaces as arachnoids (or at least genetically engineering them to look less offensive - perhaps they could cross breed them with butterflies or ants), the medical boffins have decided to use another approach to tackle the problem, and have brought out a pill that cures phobias.


For people who's fears stop them functioning normal, I'm sure that this wil be a great help (unless they're suffering from Hapiphobia - fear of pills), though of course the pill works by messing with chemicals in your brain, which will probably have all sorts of side effects.

It has also been suggested that this could be used to make soldiers braver. Just think, if they'd had it during World War I, they could have made even more 18 year olds go "over the top" to their deaths. Brilliant. Actually, it may not have made much difference because they shot the ones that were scared or traumatised, but a pill would have been so much more scientific.

As you know, I'm not hugely keen on spiders, and this fear has led to the premature deaths of a handful of the buggers who have been rash enough to come into view in my flat. I don't think that I want to start taking mind changing pills for that.

Unfortunately a pill won't stop people coming up with ever more unlikely and silly "phobias", by gluing a few Greek words together, and preferably getting quoted in a psychiatric journal. A few of these appear at the end of the cited article.

I'd like to propose another (in additon to "hapiphobia" which I made up). It involves the very real fear of having to face a ticking clock, having to rack your brains, and finally to have to spew part of them out in front of the world in all their feebleness, before that clock ticks too far. I give you Tetartophobia, from the Greek for Wednesday...