Flying? It'll Never Catch On...

On this day in 1873 The Montgolfier brothers were apparently the first humans to fly (didn't they have human cannonballs in those days?), using a hot air balloon. This was a great achievement, and led to all sorts of ideas about what might be done with this fantastic technology. Jules Verne and Edgar Allan Poe wrote stories about flying to the moon, and other exotic places.

Of course, nothing's perfect, and there were a few drawbacks. Like not being able to steer very well, not going very fast. Having to come down (landing seems to be a major issue with most types of flight). And what do you do if you get a puncture?

Nevertheless, as with sailing boats it is impressive how well people manage to put themselves at the mercy of the wind and still manage to go in roughly the right direction.

Personally, though, you won't get me travelling through the air in anything that doesn't have an engine and some kind of steering controls. And preferably a seat, seat belts, windows, etc. But that's just me - I suppose I'm a bit picky.

I've only spoken to one person who's been for a balloon ride. They quite enjoyed it. There was a Land Rover following them, so that when they landed they could be taken back, and the farmer whose field they ended up in wasn't too annoyed.

Still, they add brightness and colour to our lives. Just so long as one of those things doesn't land on me...

Pet Food

Before

This week, I seem to have been hearing a lot about food and feasting. Not here, but in the US, where they're limbering up for a day of celebration and excess. I thought that this blog should get into the spirit of things with a cookery post.

You'll no doubt be familiar with Guniea Pigs. You may know that they were originally bred in captivity for their meat. This makes sense, after all, they are quite plump creatures. They are still eaten in Peru.

In case you need a novel and "different" dish for Thursday's celebrations, or perhaps Christmas, I have found some recipes. Before you all rush off to the pet shop, or your child's room, I do have one word of caution - please check that you're not breaking the law. Apparently the consumption of this nourishing meal is illegal in New York City, although it is okay in the rest of the state.

If you don't have any Guinea pigs to hand, you might want to check your local laws with regards to dogs. Cats don't seem to be considered much of a delicacy anywhere. Which is a pity, as there are far too many of them about, and they could do with a predator.

If you have squeemish guests, then you may wish to save this dish until you want to get rid of them. I remember seeing an interview many years ago with a couple who kept a placenta in the freezer. When their guests overstayed their welcome, they would remark that it was time for supper, and that they had something special to fry up. It worked every time.

Bon Appetit!

After:


[Picture Licensing details: Top Photo -- Bottom Photo]

Good Deeds

At the weekend, we watched "Mr Deeds Goes to Town" (1936), starring Gary Cooper and Jean Arthur. In the film, Mr Deeds is an eccentric but basically "nice" guy who lives in a small town. He inherits $20million, and goes to New York to live the life of a millionaire. In the end, he gives all of the money away to help out of work farmers, and goes back to his town, with Jean Arthur, of course.

At today's prices, the money would be nearer $400 million. So the question is - would you give it all away?

I think if it was me, I'd have to give a lot of it away - after all, how much would you really want? I don't want or need a private jet, or a mansion. People might say that it would be my duty to make the amount grow so that I could pass it on to Helena, but I'm not sure I follow the logic of that. Is she supposed to do the same?

I think I'd put some of it by for Helena, and some for myself - would it be right to keep enough so I never had to work again? Why should I be able to stop contributing to society? On the other hand, maybe it would be best for me to give up working so that someone else wouldn't have to be unemployed?

Anyway, I don't have any multi-millionaire relatives that I'm aware of - my family is very small, and even if I did inherit that much, knowing my luck it wouldn't come with a Jean Arthur lookalike.

Still, I can dream...

Changing Times

How things change. I must be getting old (surely not?).

When I was growing up, we had green beans out of tins. Almost all our meals were accompanied with proper home-made chips or some other form of potato, and coffee came out of a jar marked "Nescafe".

Nowadays we're used to our coffee Starbucks style. Until recently I used to make attempts to have "proper" coffee at home, but I don't drink enough and the ground coffee used to lose its flavour. So these days I drink filter coffee, as sold in one-cup packs.

But things are changing yet again. Now coffee is no good unless it has been processed in some way by an animal (processed by humans in a hygenic factory would make it "articifical" and "unnatural").

The latest find is the Monkey Spit Bean - I'm sure they'll call it something posher than that, since it sells for over $100 a kilo (you can buy Colombian for around $10). These are beans that have been spat out by monkeys, and so are infused with their saliva. The link also mentions the ultimate - beans that have been more thoroughly processed by a civet cat. At $1000 a kilo no-one's going to admit that it tastes like shit...

The big problem that the coffee snobs will have, I suspect, is how to top this. If anyone has any ideas, they could make millions.

Brain Box

I had a "bad Greek" day yesterday. I watched the news, and understood little. It didn't help matters that my favourite newsreader Emilia had the evening off. I read a couple of pages of "Eleftheros Tipos" (a daily paper), then decided I was too tired. I didn't even look at the Garfield strip.

I'm currently reading "The Autobiography of Light" by Giorgos Grammatikakis (a physics professor at Crete University). This is a large book with over 400 pages, and I'm on page 76. So, unless I want to spend the rest of my life on this book, I thought I'd better read some more. I did a page, and had to look up about 10 words. Not good.

I wonder if Alexis Lemaire has off days? He's the "human computer" who calculated the 13th root of a 200 digit number without the aid of pencil, paper, calculator or a computer. Of course, there's no point asking "why?", any more than you'd ask a weight lifter why they bother when a machine can do so much better.

My mental arithmetic is better than many people - any time I've had the misfortune to be in a bank talking to a financial advisor about mortgages or other money things, there's almost always a point at which I'll say something like "So that would cost x", or "That's about y%", and the salesman (lets face it that's what they are) will say patronisingly, "Let me work out the figures", and spend a few minutes tapping away only to do a double-take when he gets the answer.

But like most people, I'm only really interested in being able to use my brain for things I want to do - I don't want to "exercise" it for its own sake - after all, no-one, not even NASA launching a rocket to Mars, is going to need to know the thirteenth root of a 200 digit number.

The main thing you need to do mental arithmetic is a very good memory. Alexis Lamaire's must be very good indeed. Seeing him on the television, it looked like he didn't need to memorise the 200-digit number, but nevertheless, holding 14 digits of the answer in his head, and intermediate calculations, is something that most of us wouldn't be able to do.

Perhaps with his brain, I could have learned the Greek dictionary off by heart. On the other hand, I wouldn't be able to re-read crime thrillers if I could remember all of the endings.

There's another very good reason not to be a human computer - you don't have the ultimate excuse for not having done something: "I forgot."

Girl Friday: Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie (1890 - 1976) is the biggest-selling author other than Shakespeare and the authors of the Bible. 2 billion copies of her books have been sold, half of those in English, and half translated into other languages.

She didn't put a huge amount of description or emotion into her writing. The important thing about her books is the structure. A lot of them are based on Nursery Rhymes, for example.

Who else could write a book set on an island which no-one can get onto or leave, and where, one by one, everyone dies, but even after the last person is dead you are still left wondering which of them was the killer?

I'm referring to her book "And Then There Were None", which was the first of hers I read as a teenager, and again recently (in Greek translation this time). I can't go into too much detail about any of her stories, since it's important not to spoil the mystery for anyone who might want to read them.

I finished "Endless Night" recently, and whilst reading it tried to think of the least likely murderers, and who it might be. But even though I've read plenty of her books, I had not even considered the actual villain! She had me again, hook line and sinker.

She was an expert in poisons, having worked in a pharmacy, so a lot of her victims are killed that way. She created several famous characters, one of whom will make an appearance on this blog before too long.

So, there's a reason that she's notched up 2 billion sales. Her books are fantastic.

Why I Prefer Older Women

The other day, a supermarket in the UK refused to sell a bottle of wine to a 47-year-old grandmother because she couldn't prove she was over 18. She finally got her cheap Claret elsewhere. The story is in the Daily Mail, which isn't exactly a supporter of the current government - it's more of a "bring back hanging for murderers, lefties and illegal immigrants" type of paper. Naturally then, they would blame the government, wouldn't they? But perhaps this time they've got a point.

With the introduction of bigger fines, the retailers are getting stricter. Obviously, this is a good thing in that it presumably means that underage sales are falling, but it can be inconvenient for everyone else. Although strangely, despite my youthful good looks, no one has seen fit to challenge me (not that I ever carry ID).

In fact, a few weeks ago the woman on the checkout looked at me and said something sarcastic like "No point asking you if you're old enough!". Maybe her eyesight isn't so good, or something.

Recently they've started to get stricter, not just about checking the age of people buying booze, but also of those selling it. Now, I know that on paper the idea of allowing, say, a 15 or 16 year old to sell alcohol sounds wrong, but as usual they didn't think about the consequences before they changed the rules.

Perhaps it's because I tend to go shopping after work, but there always appear to be a lot of acne-covered teenagers on the tills at my local supermarket. If you've got a bottle of wine, or whatever, this holds up the queue while they get the supervisor to come over and authorise the sale. "Alcoholic at till 15".

Consequently I have now got into the habit of checking out the checkout assistants. I walk along, looking eagerly for a hint of grey, or a less than perfect complexion. If need be, I'll queue for slightly longer at my chosen till, rather than pick the one that is empty, but staffed by someone who might not be old enough to sell me the Demon Drink.

Maybe I should start asking them for ID. Or since, despite appearances, I'm not getting any younger, their phone numbers?