Secrets & Lies

Do Not Go Gentle

2010-04-21T10:36:00.001-04:00

This blog has been stuck in my mind for a while. The reason is simple – there’s a post that I need to write somehow haven’t got the whatever to do it. It’s about age and death and the thoughts and words don’t come together very well. In fact for the longest time I haven’t even been able to put together a title – it was either ‘Do not go gentle’ or ‘You are old Father William’. I guess I’ve decided on the former (unless this changes before I pos it (or don’t post it at all)) and I just thought I’d type my thoughts out and just run with it.

My father has been unwell for a long while – nothing major but gradual slow decline. His balance started going and a series of small ‘strokes’ have slowly worn him down. Last December he was quite unwell and was admitted into hospital. After several weeks we had to come to a decision on what his next step was. Logically the path was obvious. He couldn’t return home as my mother, although in pretty good nick with 75% bionic hips, couldn’t take care of him. And there was no way he could take care of himself, although he claimed to the contrary. And so we had to find him a nursing home and he is now there. He is in good hands, my mother can go and see him whenever she wants and my brother, who is a good man, goes regularly. All very logical.

And yet I can’t quite get the image of the meeting where this was all decided out of my mind. We all have the image of our parents as majestic creatures (at least I hope LSWMBO and Mr Happy do) who are in control and set the scene for us. But over the years of his retirement he had slowly withdrawn from the world – his hobbies and pursuits were solitary and he had progressively fallen behind the passage of the world. And seeing him diminished and vulnerable was so intensely painful that I can’t quite remove it from my mind. And so Dylan Thomas thunders through my mind…..

Sorry for my self-indulgence.

Meanwhile in other news

2010-02-01T21:28:00.005-05:00

Peyton Manning had Wheaties for breakfast. No, wait - that's the headline round here, not a sideline. Forgive my heresy but I will be happy when the Superbowl is resolved and Indianapolis has recovered from an enjoyable and hideous hangover. Then I won't have to hear whether or not Dwight Freeney had a number two today.....

As to the pic above - in the mid-19th century poor Londoners used to sleep in coffins as the only place they could find to sleep. By 1900 the Sally Army had coffin hostels - pictured above. Scroll forward 110 years and move the picture to Korea. Here they have come up with the concept of the Coffin Academy. For $25 South Koreans can slip into a coffin and experience the sounds and feelings as the lid is pounded in place to leave them in the darkness.

These somewhat morbid people collect in groups of 12 or so where they write their letters saying farewell and their epitaphs. A funeral follows and they slip into the coffin in a chapel. The caskets are side by side and the Coffin Academy members rest in peace for ten minutes. Or longer I guess if the proprietor has a nap while they are experiencing the afterlife.

And on the personal front - my new unsullied passport has arrived as has a new rabbit. These two events are not related btw. And my little grey-haired mummy is now out of the hospital and so has to complain about how standards in the NHS to her neighbours rather than the woman in the next bed. But sad to say, my father is still in there and I don't think he'll be out in the next few weeks as there's no way she can look after him. Hence a trip back home is due. Stay tuned....

Failport renewal

2010-01-22T22:05:00.003-05:00

Sometimes the simple things in life are difficult. Late last year I made the momentous decision to get a new passport - not a big deal. Do the form, get photos (but not in a burka and remember to remove the dummy), send a king's ransom to Washington, get new passport in 10 working days. Simple. And yet....

The application got to Washington on 11 December. Christmas Eve my father gets taken into hospital - not major but a worry. No passport. Bum.

Check embassy web-site and get a premium phoneline in the UK (69p per minute!) to call. Call the 'Careline' and get rooked for money only to be told that they had no information to give me. Call back next week. Bugger.

Send email to the embassy to be told that they had received my application but I shouldn't have worn a burka and my photo was invalid. Send more photos. Is this a glimmer of progress? Is it hell.

Today my mother manages to break her hip at Tescos (full body contact shopping?) and gets admitted to same hospital as my father. Which is closed to visitors due to the rebranded Norwalk virus. No passport. Bloody shit damn.

Call the Don'tgiveashitline and get fleeced for more 69p moments of joy. This time they acknowledge that I did apply for a passport. Progress? But they haven't processed it. Ok, no progress. Crap buggery bollocks.

It appears I have 3 alternatives....

Wait - call back next week. Ok, but this has not been very successful apart unless you're the Pissoffline which is busy collecting multiple batches of 69p.
Book a ticket home and tell them when my travel date is to move my application up the list. Except that there is no guarantee that even that will get it processed in time and so I may lose more than lots of 69p. Lots and lots of 69p to be exact.
In an emergency I can apply "on compassionate ground" - gotta love that - for an emergency travel document. For which I have to go to my nearest embassy (Washington) and get an emergency travel document. This is the Willy Wonka gold certificate that lets you into the Magic UK factory. But not out. Once you're there you have to reapply for your passport, send more large sums of money to feed the UK deficit, and generally dick around while they do the same.
Go straight to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Ok, that was 4.

All in all - fuck.

Best email ever. For this year. So far.

2010-01-14T20:05:00.003-05:00

I don't know about you, but most of my email is pretty humdrum...coupons for 2% off the complete works of Jeffrey Archer, Office Depot offering me a free staple with every purchase of $500 or more, and a nice gentleman from Nigeria offering me a gazillion dollars for just my social security number, mother's maiden name, and inside leg measurement. But occasionally a gem arrives.

On Monday I received this plaintive request....

Urgent Order

Hello Sir/Madam,

I am G*** K*** and I will like to Order your (50" Snake Catcher stick),I will like to know the price of one and if you do not have this size then advise the size that you have?also what types of credit cards do you take for Payment.waiting to hear from you..

Regards
G***

Definitely caused me to think over my Cheerios. Does G*** want a Snake Catcher stick that is 50" long, or a Snake Catcher stick designed for catching snakes that are 50" long. And if so, how the bloody hell did he measure it? And does he have Snake Catcher sticks for 30", 40", 45" snakes ("bugger, too short!")? Clearly a man who wants the right tool for the job!

And why does he need it urgently? I have this mental picture of him frantically emailing while pinioned in the corner by this fierce 4' 2" reptile of the suborder Serpentes (got bored with typing sn...the other word).

Maybe I should reply and let him know his desperate plea went to the wrong person. Nah, it's probably too late for him. Sorry G***, mate.

Now where were we?

2010-01-11T19:43:00.003-05:00

Buggered if I can remember to be honest...let's consider events.....

May - LSWMBO got married and decided that TTO was the only man in her life. Result! After several months I could lure my wallet away from the corner where it was whimpering pathetically.

July - alcohol metabolism enzymes returned nearly to normal after wedding. Sadly bank balance didn't. Bugger.

Augustish - Mr Happy graduated and moved to Michigan where he officially became Mr April. He lives across the road from walk so his morning commute is ~2 minutes, but double if he has to stop for a car while crossing the road. He seems to be thoroughly enjoying his job. I hate him too.....

November - decided on plan to expand the empire and take over the world. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Less so now.

December - Christmas and set out to do nothing. Underachieved again.

January - decided I missed this blog as Facebook is a good place for shorty pithy comments but not good for longer pissy comments. Decided to post a recipe for Jess that is both tasty and a good guard against scurvy (you just can't be too careful).....

Saffron Citrus Chili Fish

Ingredients
1 lemon
1 grapefruit
1 lime
4 oranges
2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 small onion
1 tsp saffron threads
1 medium courgette, diced
2 Tbsp. chili garlic sauce (modulate to your thermal tolerance)
1 Tbsp. sugar
3 cups vegetable stock (fish stock if you have it)
2 Tbsp chopped cilantro
1/2 cup plain (all-purpose) flour
salt and black pepper
4 orange roughy fillets

Zest the fruit and chop finely. Peel the fruit and segment, removing all membrane and white pith. Dice the flesh.

Heat the oil in a pan over medium heat, add the saffron, onion and courgette. Cook for 2 minutes, stir in the chili sauce and sugar and cook until caramelised (about a minute). Add the stock and bring to the boil.

Simmer for 10 minutes and add the fruit. Cook for ~10 minutes until the sauce has reduced. Stir in the cilantro, remove from the heat and allow to stand.

Mix the zest, flour, s&p together and use to lightly coat the fish. Heat a little oil in a frying plan. Cook the fillets for ~3 minutes on each side depending on how thick the fish is.

I served this with a herbed couscous but you can do it with a variety of carriers. Enjoy.

LSWMBO got married

2009-06-16T20:26:00.001-04:00

Another one bites the dust

2009-03-02T20:27:00.003-05:00

Bloggers seem to be falling left right and centre. The latest to fall by the wayside was, and indeed is, still one of the best. Benediction, always a source of inspiration, has decided to call it quits. Shame for many of us. Fortunately I can keep in touch with her but it does definitely make you wonder if it is, indeed Rabelais time.

Life is full of stuff at the minute but some updates are due I guess. My old man seems to be slowly on the mend - thank you to everyone who expressed their concern. When I left the UK I was somewhat despondent as he didn't seem to be doing much to help himself and he is the only person who really could do much about it. But he seems to have taken my little grey haired mother's message to heart - "if you don't do something I'll stop feeding you." This fills me with hope. The NHS are looking to treat my other's need for a replacement hip with acupuncture. Seems reasonable, if inscrutable.

The wedding...pardon me....THE WEDDING proceeds apace. The big decisions have been made, and I have a suit(!) but it's totally bloody amazing how many details there are in an American wedding. We also seem to have embarked on a total rebuild of the house so any visitors (who have never been here before so have no idea how scruffy and run down it is usually) won't be disgraced.

And I have a suit....

But it's Monday, ruddy Monday. Haven't done any music for a while. There was a Facebook meme listing the 25 albums that formed your background and another that had the 10 tracks that had strong associations for you. Memes don't go away, just shift their medium.

One of the big formative albums in my life was Eno's second solo effort - Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy). This was Darwin College, University of Kent at Canterbury. Late 1974, maybe early 1975. But this was played and played through The Fat Lady Of Limbourg, Mother Whale Eyeless, Third Uncle (check out the 801 Live version as it's a classic).

But The True Wheel has some of the best lyrics and also one of the best videos out there on youtube. It is really very clever....

A New RSS Feed?

2009-02-11T20:34:00.002-05:00

Hmm, tricky cultural territory tonight. First up there is the new tasty soft drink being developed in India from ... cow urine. Now at first blush this might seem a little gauche and a trifle bizarre. But "gau jal", or "cow water" in Sanskrit is in the late stages of development by the Cow Protection Department of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), India's biggest and oldest Hindu nationalist group. And at least they are totally open in the origins and content of their food product, as opposed to certain ~~now dead~~ Chinese baby formula manufacturers or Georgian peanut butter producers. Anyone who has a can (or bottle) - let us all know how yummy it is. Please?
And then there are the pink chaddis. An organisation known as The Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women (membership 24808 and rising (oh yes, and Brad Defruiter desperately trying to get a membership list)) is urging people to send pink knickers to members of a Hindu Nationalist Group (Sri Ram Sena (Lord Ram’s Army)) in protest at their beatings of unmarried couples in Mangalore. They are doing this because the Sri Ram Sena are losers. Maybe they can also send some to the England cricket team.

Oh yes, and the membership just rose to 24809 - and you too can join here.

Come home Oedipus, all is forgiven

2009-02-09T20:16:00.004-05:00

Perhaps I shouldn't worry quite so much. After all, I live in a place where you can buy Valentines cards for your mother. Just think about it for a minute, and then shudder...

But there is the whole upcoming issue of the father-daughter dance at the upcoming nuptials. LSWMBO sent me an email that just said 'what do you think we should dance to' to which my obvious yet unspoken thought was 'why are you asking me what you and TTO should dance to'. But then it was gently pointed out to be by SWMBO I was living in America. And American weddings have a fixed dance-card - dance 17 appears to be the grooms third uncle twice removed dancing with the bride's second cousin' gibbon's hairdresser. That are very thorough.

But dance 2 is daddy-daughter and that was the source of my trepidation. Still is, come to think of it. Let's get some of the criteria out of the way - it must be danceable, not so sappy that you want to commit mass-murder, and not be taken as a tacit admission of incest by anyone in the audience. So Isn't She Lovely loses on 2/3 - sorry, never really did like that track - while Brown-Eyed Girl, so popular with many people....I mean have you listened to the words...

Making love in the green grass
Behind the stadium with you

He wasn't checking her maths homework I tell you.

And then there are the weird ones - who would even listen to Sheryl Crow's mangling of Sweet Child of Mine, let alone dance to it? Or The Cure's Lullaby - not sure if the spiderman being always hungry is really the way they want to start their future lives together. Or maybe they do. What do I know?

So what does that leave me with? Not a lot to be honest. And even less than is present on youtube to share for a Monday. But if there is one song that has been there through LSWMBOs life and even a few minutes longer it is this one. Even if it isn't appropriate to the occasion it's still a damn good track....

The journey home

2009-02-07T20:21:00.002-05:00

Coming back from England proved a trifle more complicated this time round. My flight wasn't until midday - but Air Canada insist on 3 hours beforehand and there was the usual issue of trying to get round the M25 early on a Monday morning. So - discretion being the better part of ~~cowardice~~ valour it seemed a good idea to spend the night up by Heathrow.

And this proved to be a good idea when the storm gods decided to dump 6" of snow over the Eastern bit of the UK. Round here that amount of snow would be annoying and make for a mucky rush hour. Back home they close the library when 1-2" of snow falls, so there were librarians up and down the length of the country barricading themselves in their bookish charges, armed to the teeth, and prepared to fend off all-comers. We are only a Trollope away from anarchy - in more ways than one.

So I blundered across to T3, checked in, and had a hearty breakfast like all condemned men. And waited while the word 'Cancelled' merrily appeared on the departures screen alongside a lot of flights. This caused some tension and I learnt some new words from the woman next to me when she learnt that she wouldn't be leaving for Shanghai on that particular day.

Fortunately my bus was running - the one taking me out to the plane that is - and we were lucky enough to get out of Heathrow about 20 minutes before they decided to shut down the entire country. Including the libraries.

And so to Toronto - while we made up about 20 minute we landed just early enough for me to miss the last flight to Indianapolis. Bugger. And, as it was weather-related, Air Canada had no obligation to house me so I had to doss down in the goosebump ridden fleshpots of Mississauga. A short night's sleep and then back to the airport at 5 am to argue with a snotty AC-employee on whether my bag was too heavy (it was), whether anyone had said anything about it in London (no, apart from 'have a nice flight'), and whether I could unpack anything to make the weight better (no). Then I hopped on another bus which took me out to a shed in the middle of the airport by a route so long and circuitous I thought he was going to take a runner down the runway himself.

The flight was uneventful apart from the snowstorm in Indianapolis which made the pilot abort his first approach....all very exciting. Not. He then announced that if he couldn't make his next approach and would have to head for his alternative landing location - Windsor Ontario!!! Thank God he made it in. So we landed, and then I had to dig my car out of the carpark and head slowly home past the turned-over SUVs littering the side of the Interstate.

34 hours to get home. A new record and one I don't want to break any time soon.

Crises

2009-02-05T21:00:00.003-05:00

Ok, getting back into Eastern Time Zone and back into work. So what happened?

My mother calls me every Sunday at 10.00, give or take a minute or two. She's very punctual. When talking to he she told me that my father had collapsed/fallen over and was in bed after a struggle to get him upstairs. He's 85 and has become progressively more unfirm over the past few years. So just about anything robs him of his balance - it was a severe urinary tract infection this time. Oh yes, and my mother needs a hip replacement. I was worried, found a flight home the following day and spent the week over there helping her. Well I hope I helped her.

My father is quite cantankerous and stubborn. Not like me at all. He is quite resistant to anyone in the family - he's the patriarch - but was very responsive to the nurses who came in and cajoled/bullied him to sit up, get to the chair at the end of the bed. It's tough for him, but important to his recovery. I suggested to my mother that she buy a nurses outfit and hire random women to come in and get him to do his exercises. They live in a town of ~20,000 so ~5,000 of them must be women of nursing age. So by the time they've got through all 5000 he should be better - simple.

By the time I left the immediate crisis seemed to have passed but the recovery will be long. And the journey back is a whole other post....

The other critical issue I have weighing on my mind is - what should I dance with LSWMBO in the daddy-daughter wedding dance. Sounds easy, but there are certain criteria:-

It must be danceable
It must not be so sappy you want to poke out your ear-drums with knitting needles
It must not scream "INCEST"!!!!
We must both like it

And that's another post.

But while we're on the topic of music - a musical giant passed away while I was back in the UK. John Martyn was a true rebel-rouser whose dissolute lifestyle pretty much crippled him. But he produced some wonderful music, particularly the Solid Air album. I remember my first acquaintance with him was a folk-singer covering Traffic Light Lady and the chorus has stuck in my brain for some 34 years. Can't remember my name, but that song just sticks...

Couple of tracks - May You Never is probably one of his definitive tracks:-

And I Don't Want To Know About Evil....

Sad loss....

Normal service will be resumed shortly

2009-02-04T20:07:00.001-05:00

Back home after a long trip and seemingly longer return journey. Have to do some catch up and will post tomorrow. I hope.

Cheap, but very funny post

2009-01-29T15:49:00.001-05:00

Sorry for the absence of posts - family matters. But this is too good to let pass unnoted.

Deposits are down - another victim of the recession?

2009-01-24T20:25:00.002-05:00

Looks like the traditional banks aren't the only ones needing a hand in the current economic environment. Sperm banks all around the world are experiencing a drying up in the level of donations. In Korea they attribute it to the implementation of a 2005 Bioethics Law, but the problem isn't confined to them. The Southern Daily Echo have championed the problem back home with the shocking revelation that only 4 men are donating sperm in the Southampton area. And I'll bet they're getting very tired.

Is this tied to the recession? Very possibly. Larry Flint has already put in his bid for $5Bn to bailout the limp porn industry and 'rejuvenate the sexual appetite of America'. All very noble and I'm sure he has no vested interest here. But this has as much, or little merit, as giving the banks huge amounts of money to pay themselves bonuses for getting themselves into the position where they needed huge amounts of money. Actually, it sounds a lot more reasonable come to think of it. And if people become more interested in sex, then presumably there may be a bit more to go around and the 4 knackered burghers of Southampton can get some well-deserved kip.

And there is an upside - not only will men benefit, but women also. A recent study at Newcastle University has reported that the pleasure women get from making love is directly linked to the size of their partner’s bank balance. This area of research appears to attract a lot of attention - mainly from male researchers for some odd reason. Male researchers who are looking for a rise possibly.

And this may explain Bernie Madoff - he was not actually swindling charities, friends, retired people who now have nothing to live for. No, he was trying to improve his sexual technique. Maybe the Madoff defence (I was only sticking up this bank to give my wife an orgasm) will become part of legal history. Or maybe not.

But I'm finishing here as I have to go out an buy some lottery tickets....you never know.

A Question of Tomorrow

2009-01-19T20:27:00.002-05:00

There's something I don't quite understand about tomorrow. This is not my country and I am disenfrachised (as I am back home dammit). So I didn't vote. The man who won, spending obscene amounts of money, inherits the biggest poo-pile from the Chump-In-Chief for decades. I'd demand a recount if I was him. And he is weighed down with the expectations of a nation that has been let down by its leaders and is drowning in debt. It is a Herculean task at best, and there are a line of people a mile long waiting for their consideration for supporting him. And so he cannot afford to be ordinary, or even more than ordinary. No, he must be extraordinary just to be seen as ordinary.

So why do I find tomorrow exciting? Why do I actually look at someone and wish I had the chance to say "I voted for him". I guess because here is someone who looks out and appears to be talking to you directly, someone who can actually inspire and yet not sound superior or patronising. He can even pronounce words properly. He is a man you can trust.

These men come along rarely and should be treasured and cherished. I hope he lives up to peoples' dreams and aspirations. I hope so for his sake, for the US' sake, and for the world's sake. And I think I fit somewhere in there.

And for music....what is tomorrow? What else? Once in a lifetime.

The rare and the common

2009-01-16T20:34:00.003-05:00

This is a phalarope - a rare visitor to the English shores:-

These are twitchers - birdwatchers if you'd prefer - and they are pretty common, but like watching rare things (see phalarope):-

And this is a buzzard. Not necessarily very rare and really not too caring about whether things are rare or common:-
And this, sad to say from the phalaropic and twitcher perspective, is what happens when all these 3 items, rare and otherwise, come together:-

At least one of them ended up this story happy.

US Airways Flight 1549

2009-01-15T20:57:00.004-05:00

Let's be honest - the events that took place in New York were pretty darn miraculous, albeit an expensive way of reducing the Canada Geese population. One of my favorite web-sites is Flightaware, which tracks flights across the US - ok, so I'm a geek and think that's sort of interesting.

So what, I wondered, does Flightaware have to say about todays flight......

I'm amazed that it tracks the flight pretty reliably and gives it a duration of 6 minutes. But I'm not sure that the passengers would agree with the status.....Arrived over 5 hours ago doesn't seem a totally accurate assessment of a journey that was intended to arrive in Charlotte. And on dry land.

One thing for sure though - people will pay a lot more attention to the 'in the event of a water landing' bit in future....

Post-elect

2009-01-12T21:31:00.004-05:00

Ya know, I thought he'd look a bit happier when he got inaugurated somehow. Maybe the weight of the paper sign saying 'Economic Crisis' was weighing on him when this photo was shot. I loved the rehearsal - the pageantry, the gravitas, the paper signs, and the bit where they all practiced waving to the helicopter. I think they got that bit right by the way. I was looking to see if there was anyone wearing a 'terrorist' sign but I didn't see one. I just hope there isn't one tomorrow as too many people need to much from this man. Maybe too much for any man.

The Beeb has been running a series called Notes to Obama, where a variety of celebrities offer their advice to the man-in-waiting. They inevitably run the whole gamut but I think John Waters has (inevitably) an original take on the whole topic.

Music is an old track that hopefully doesn't resonate with tomorrows man in charge, and sure as hell is meaningless to the new retiree-elect. While we were decorating the other week SWMBO popped to the shops and so I put some music on. Inevitably she decided to return during the Clash' Somebody Got Murdered and the next track turned out to be Killing An Arab. Doh - anyone would think I was third in line to the English throne.

Ah well, I managed to stumble across to the remote and forward to this classic - Boys Don't Cry. But they do - honest.

Are Americans gutless?

2009-01-11T21:11:00.003-05:00

Caution - this recipe may need an extra ingredient. A strong stomach?

Seems like a bit of an odd question, so maybe I should rephrase it. Do Americans have internal organs?

I ask that question because I'm not sure any of their animals do; at least that is the impression that you get from a quick examination of a butcher's counter round here. For, although there is a fine stock of meat on display, the offal truth is that there is none on display anywhere. Which all seems a bit odd, particularly for a nation that will indulge in the mysteries of fast food with reckless abandon.

There even seems to be a revulsion of the notion of offal - people will always point to the English habit of steak and kidney pie/pudding and shudder while doing so. And even back home there are variants - have to admit that some types don't do anything for me. Brawn for example - my father happily indulges himself in this meaty mystery yet I suspect a whole industry will die with his passing as I can't see anyone else picking up the baton. But when did the offal disappear from American meat departments as surely the Founding Fathers weren't particularly squeamish when it came to butchery?

But you can at least find chicken livers in the local stores and, with a bit of effort turn the ridiculous into the sublime by creating sherried chicken liver pâté......

Ingredients
2 oz. butter
4 oz. lean bacon, derinded and chopped
2 crushed cloves of garlic
1 small onion, chopped
1 lb chicken livers, chopped
salt & pepper
2 thyme sprigs
2 parsley sprigs
4 oz mushrooms, cleaned and chopped
4 Tbsp. dry sherry
4 Tbsp. thick whipping cream
1 tsp. lemon juice

Melt the butter in a pan, add the bacon, garlic, and onion and cook gently for 3 minutes. Stir in the chicken livers and cook for 5 minutes. Season well with salt and pepper. Add the herbs and mushrooms - stir in. Add the sherry and cook until the liquid has evaporated. Cool, then blend in an electric blender until smooth. Stir in the cream and lemon juice.

Warm an oven to 300F/150C. Spoon into a greased ovenproof dish. Cover with a lid and stand the dish in a roasting pan, containing water to a level of one inch. Bake for 2-2 1/2 hours until the pâté is cooked through. Allow to cool. Cover and chill until needed.

Serve on toast - it's rich and delicious.

The Course Of True Love....

2009-01-09T21:03:00.004-05:00

PORTIA
Tarry a little; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh:'
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

GRATIANO
O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge!

SHYLOCK
Is that the law?

I'm mixing my Shakespeare quotations tonight. The title if from Midsummer Night's Dream and the text from the Merchant of Venice. But the story is, I guess, Love's Labour's Lost.

Look at the wedding couple - happy and in love. Richard Batista and his lovely wife Dawnell....what sort of a name is that btw? So much in love. And it got deeper. She needed a kidney - she'd had one from her father, and another from her brother but had sadly rejected them both. As luck would have it, Richard was a good match for Dawnell and gave one of his to her - perhaps the ultimate 'all my worldy goods I thee endow'.

The sad news is that (according to him) her body accepted the kidney but she rejected the rest of him. He claims she had an affair with a physiotherapist and the whole thing ended up in a divorce. And he wants his kidney back - or at least the value of the kidney. He claims that is is worth $1.5million, which seems a bit odd as you can get organic lambs kidneys for about 5 bucks a pound and they've probably led a cleaner life.

Richard is somewhat gutted and claims "It put a hole in my heart that still exists" - so maybe there is a chance for him to barter a bit of heart for the return of his kidney. After all, they appear to be a good match. But only at the tissue level.

What's the collective name for employees?

2009-01-08T20:19:00.004-05:00

Collective names are one of the most brilliant inventions of the human language - how can you fail to be gobsmacked by a rhumba of rattlesnakes or a storytelling of rooks? But watching nature programmes over Christmas (ok, yes I got a new TV....) made me wonder what the corresponding word for a 'collection' of employees is?

Watching Life On Earth I could see an immediate answer - a shoal of employees....
It seems to fit much of what you see in so many places. Shoals tend to hang out together as a communal defence against predators. Individuals may get eaten but by hiding yourself in the masses you stand a good chance of surviving to another day. When of course you might get eaten....but that's ok; you made it through the day. So the goal of being a shoal member is not to stand out, not to be an individual, not to take the risk, to be just good enough to survive.

And sometimes you find that in large organisations - the Civil Service used to be the classic example. In shoal employees you find the person who does enough to survive but not to stand out - conspicuous is bad. The goal is not to be the best, but mainly not to the the laggard who can get picked off by the predator that is always snapping at the fringes of the shoal. That way you live to breed, and produce more members of the shoal. And so the shoal can survive.

Shoal employees can't survive in small companies where they are exposed and have to develop individual survival skills. But en masse they can get by - and so can the shoal. And that is just good enough.

Or is it? The problem is that the world has changed. While there used to be predators gathering and picking off the weakest shoal members, now the whole environment has shifted and the future of the shoal - the whole shoal - is endangered. And because the whole mantra of the shoal employee is based on anonymity their whole mantra of survival is at risk.

So what's the future of survival ? How do we turn our shoal of employees into a pride?

Oh yes, and the real answer? It's a staff of employees:-
How boring is that?

Holidays over - back to work

2009-01-05T21:05:00.002-05:00

Time to get back into work habits. The alarm clock was rather brutal this morning and LSWMBOs sympathy rather less so. Stumbled out of bed and came within a whisker of leaving for work without my ID badge...which would not have been a good thing. Eventually started 2009 only to find that it looks remarkably similar to 2008. Bother.

But music for Monday is a bit of a throwback in a couple of senses. Firstly it's a Christmas reference so it is a couple of weeks late. But it's even more of a throwback for me. Blue was the first album (12" vinyl for all you antiquarians out there) I ever bought with my own money. The first one I owned was a gift from my brother - Motown Chartbusters 5. The second, a gift from my parents - Solomon's Seal by Pentangle. And this was the third (and interestingly the only one I now own on CD). I unearthed it while decorating and played it only to marvel at what a great album it is and the emotion that runs through it. I was planning on using the clip for The Last Time I Saw Richard but that seems to have disappeared....so it's back to a Christmas tune....

Something God and I have in common

2009-01-04T22:35:00.000-05:00

The Trinity were sitting around one day in 4004 BCE. It was a Sunday so there wasn't really that much going on. Jesus and the Holy Spirit were playing backgammon. The Spirit wasn't certain if the string of double sixes thrown by his opponent were a statistical improbability (after all, it can happen 10 times in a row) or something a little more legerdemaindeDieu. But he didn't want to cause a fuss as the Ultimate Rule Judge tended to side with his son so it probably wasn't worth the fuss.

God was sitting looking over a colour chart that spanned the entirety of his creation. It was quite big. "I just don't get it", he muttered. "Get what?", said the Spirit grateful for the diversion. " These colours. I just don't get it. I mean, look at this......Sandpiper....what in My name is a sandpiper? Did one of you create a sandpiper while I wasn't looking?". Jesus looked a little sheepish and studied the game board more intensely.

"And Etruscan red??? I mean, what's an Etruscan when it's at home?" "Small kind of shellfish isn't it" piped up the Spirit, glad of the diversion. "So, God, why are you poring over colour charts again? Didn't you do the whole colour thing with the dinosaurs?"

Jesus looked up. "Yeah, and a right shambles that turned out to be. Poor little, well big, buggers. Roaming around the place all painted Oriental Express with Kiwi Burst spots. No wonder they wandered round all the time roaring. It's a miracle that asteroid came along and wiped them out before they all died of shame."

"Yes, right, asteroid, ahem", muttered God. " The trouble with these colour charts is that they all look ok on the paper, but then you put them on the beasts of the earth and they look different. I mean, I thought it looked ok when it was two little strips of paper. I had no idea how it would turn out on a 15 ton bloodthirsty reptile. It all got, well, out of hand."

"Anyway", He continued, "now I've got a chart to start again and this time I'll get it right. I've got a cluster of small mouse-like mammals who managed to keep out of the technicolour lizards way, and with a bit of intelligent design and a quick colour wash I think I can get it right. Trouble is, I don't want to screw it up again......either of you two got a suggestion?"

The Spirit perked up. " I know, why don't you start small. Maybe start with a garden and see how it goes....."

And that was my, rather our, issue with the painting thing. The colour charts looked quite plausible and so we got testers and slapped a bit on the wall....where it looked nothing like (a) we'd imagined it, and (b) the colour chart. So, it was back to the shop for another try (maybe Gumdrop was a bit optimistic)....until the wall began to take on a tartan appearance. Probably the traditional tartan of the MacIdiot clan - a small family of colour-blind Scots who thankfully died out due to a small misunderstanding with traffic lights.

But eventually one colour, either that or our refusal to go back and get still one more colour (my suggestion was to just pick one at random as that stood as much chance as any "rational" approach") won out and we finally got round to doing the dining room. And then the front room. And now it's back to work. No peace for the wicked or the Blessed apparently.

Are you feeling inspired yet?

2009-01-03T22:12:00.002-05:00

If not, you might want to take your inspiration from this....

Anyone able to identify all the films here?

Old Years Resolution

2008-12-31T20:56:00.003-05:00

Well, I guess it's 2009 in the vast majority of places - hopefully we won't look back on 2008 as the good old days (with the exception of November 4). Happy new year to everyone and I hope it brings you everything you desire.

Time to report back on the annual reading assignment - 12 books in 12 months and mainly fiction. This is the second year that I've set off on this particular mission - the challenge was (a) to find the time and (b) to read something that wasn't necessarily work-related.

And it seems to have had an effect. The other day I went into Borders and actually picked up a real growed up story book in preference to a fun-packed history of the Black Death. And the story book didn't even have pictures.

So what did I get through this year?

I *think* I started off with The Ghost Map by Steven Johnson. Ok, so it's a history book. But it's one of those small yet fascinating historical incidents that makes for a compelling story. In this case it's the story of the 19th century London cholera epidemic. Maybe that doesn't sound like a fun read but it changed the way people thought about disease and epidemics. Well worth a read.

On the history front I did also indulge in a quick tot of Rum: A Social and Sociable History of the Real Spirit of 1776 by Ian Williams. This turned out to be a bit like my relationship with the spirit in question - seemed like a good idea but the novelty faded pretty quickly and I didn't finish the bottle, pardon me book.

The first major diversion into fiction was bought on the spur of the moment based on the cover notes. A murder mystery based in the Ottoman miniaturist world of 16th century Istanbul - now that sounds like an interesting read. And it was. And more. My Name Is Red by Orhan Pamuk is a fascinating story and each chapter is written in the first person by one of the protagonists or a bystander. Good read, and different.

I picked up The Witch of Portabello by Paulo Coehlo on the strength of The Alchemist which I read and thoroughly enjoyed last year. This one - not quite so. The style starts off similarly to My Name Is Read and speaks the to feminine side of the deity. But it drifts around and the ending really didn't surprise me at all. Maybe it was my mood, but I found it a trifle disappointing.

Then the find of the year and more by good luck than good judgement. I have no idea why I picked up The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield - maybe it was the cover that looked archaic or maybe it was the mention of a Yorkshire setting (my little grey-haired mother comes from there; more specifically she was born in Whitby where Dracula came ashore. Nuff said). A Brontë-esque tale, or at least SWMBO tells me it is and she reads the literature in this household. A gripping family story with enough twists to keep you going to the end. Sadly she's only written the one book....

But another find turned into a series and then an authpor to keep an eye out for. I picked up Case Histories by Kate Atkinson on the spur of the moment. The first three chapters are all apparently disconnected deaths - or two murders and a disappearance. They have no obvious connection and the disparate threads slowly combine and form a coherent and amusing story. Did I like it? Well, since then I've read Human Croquet and One Good Turn by Ms Atkinson. So I guess the answer is yes.

It wasn't all fiction. I had to read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. This is an almost impossible book to gauge as it's intensely personal and written for his children as a lasting memento of a good father sadly removed from them. At times I almost felt like I was intruding.
Another non-fiction read was Elizabeth: The Struggle For The Throne by David Starkey. Most of the books on Elizabeth I focus on her as queen and Gloriana, but he presents a picture of Elizabeth concentrated on the years before she ascended the throne and her role in the events during that time. He presents a complex and more involved princess than she is often given credit for. If you like Liz I, then you'll enjoy this.

In the mix there were a couple of PD James - Death of an Expert Witness and Shroud for a Nightingale if I remember correctly. I don't rave over PD James as I don't find a lot of soul in her characters. These were solid reads but not the best I found in '08.

On the other hand Ghostwalk by Rebecca Stott was a corker. Look at the Amazon reviews and you'll see no end of scatter on the reviews but I enjoyed it. Dark and complex, set in the Cambridge of today and the Cambridge of Isaac Newton, it was a book that still left things unanswered at the end. Let me know if you read it and who you think dunnit at the end?

I was fascinated by the various blogs of Seth Godin and the general adulation with which he is held by so many people. So I picked up a copy of Tribes: We Need You To Lead Us. It's short, readable and contains the new model of leadership in a world where leadership doesn't come with a uniform and rarely comes from the top of the corporate monolith. Worth a read, or steal it from me when I can remember who has my copy at the minute.

And this ones for Candace......And the final book was picked up at Portland airport as a convulsive lunge before the flight back. Take Good Omens, Small Gods and toss in Robert Graves Greek Myths and you'll get Marie Phillips' Gods Behaving Badly. The Gods from Olympus are living in a run-down house in London and have taken up day jobs - Aphrodite does phone sex for example. Then love and a hero arrive and it all goes very amusingly wrong. Good light fun read.

Ok, 15 with 5 on the shelf waiting... good reading.