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caldrail

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Blog Entries posted by caldrail

  1. caldrail
    I've just watched a video about things alien. That image of the rock that looks suspiciously like sasquatch. An enthusiastic 'expert' getting exciting about meeting real live aliens from Out There (doesn't he have any real friends?). Film clips of a psychopathic alien smelling Sigourney Weaver, cute grey thingy waving at the assembled scientists on a mountain top, intergalactic hippie E.T. getting caught with no clothes on by a kid, and a gelatinous blob terrorising small town america. Quotes from Stephen Hawking inform us that in the infinity of space, there must be aliens out there (but not close, or we'd see their tv programs).
     
    I don't know about you, but if there's hyper-intelligent blobs out there bent on terrorising small town america by abducting innocent cannabis smokers and chopping up cows for laughs, then why would they waste their time watching soap operas? Can you imagine an alien soap opera?
     
    Female Alien Kghdj, I wish to submit an emotional report to you
     
    Male Alien Dnmdiu, I have already nested with Dgdjsd.
     
    Female Alien She cannot give you podlings like I can.
     
    Male Alien Affirmative Dnmdiu. However the Pod-Lord has dictated that we invade the next street tommorrow and I cannot have any distractions.
     
    Female Alien You are no longer light relief. I will now commit revenge.
     
    Male Alien I am registering suprise... blob repellent on my anti-weather equipment!
     
    Door opens and Male Aliens Mate (Third Gender) enters
     
    Male Aliens Mate (Third Gender) Huh? Whats is occuring here? Dnmdiu, are you engaged in an extra-pod-ical relationship with with my First Gender Mate?
     
    Aliens stand waiting for closing credits
     
    You would think that aliens could create superior television programs. I suspect the real reason we haven't seen any is because their soap operas are even worse than ours, and its too embarrasing to admit that the most hyper intillgent species in the galaxy is obsessed with who is replicating with who. I therefore submit that aliens did build the pyramids, but that human beings missed the whole point. It was an alien filmset ("Thanks humanity, that was a cool movie, but we don't need those pyramids now"). Perhaps the long journey from their planet to ours gets a little boring given the universe has an irritating speed limit (no speed cameras discovered yet - God hasn't thought of that one). So I'd imagine the real reason they pop up here to play catch me with jet fighters and ruin airline pilots careers is just for something to do, or is it they're looking for a compatible toilet facility?
  2. caldrail
    I like cars. Especially the fast ones. No, thats not right...
     
    I like fast cars. Especially the very fast ones. Yep, thats right.
     
    But not all of them. For various reasons, either the aesthetics, personal experience, or the revealing reviews of driving journalists, there are bound to be those I don't regard as worthy. Take the Lamborghini Gallardo for instance. Now italian supercars fire my blood yet last year one trundled past me in town. A white convertible owned by a local man and it looked simply awful. Certainly you noticed it - you couldn't fail to do that - but it looked cheap and boxy, there was none of the lamborghini WWOWWWWWWWW!!!! factor. I decided I didn't like it. As for driving one, erm, that might not happen tomorrow anyway....
     
    A couple of days ago I wandered through a car park on my way to the local supermarket. And there it was. A slate grey (or perhaps unwashed black) Lamborghini Gallardo convertible and it looked sensational. WWOWWWWWWWW!!! Ok, for a moment I was twelve years old again. But isn't that what these cars are supposed to be about? And isn't it strange what a difference the colour made. White is currently a fashionable colour for sports cars (my rusting Eunos is, by strange coincidence), yet it just wasn't the colour for that Lambo. In dark paint, it looked menacing and evil and covered in saliva... oops, sorry about that, hope no-one noticed.... Such italianate pornography is what fires my blood. For me, driving a Ford Mondeo has got to be such a mind numbing experience. Even the name bores me, I mean, its the Ford Monday. Car names are daft aren't they? Vauxhall use names ending in 'ra'. Vectra.. Tigra... Makes them sound eciting doesn't it? At least Ford are more honest about their model names. Well, since ordinary cars are just too ordinary to bare, I shall wait until Ford produce the Frideo and hopefully that'll be worth driving.
     
    Rear wheel drive please Mr Ford. Don't like those silly hatchback things.
     
    This Weeks Red tape
    Another letter in the post... More proofs required... Oh good grief I've submitted this stuff twice already. Off to the bank, persuade them to copy the information - again - and represent it at the benefits office.
     
    "Ahhh... Mr Caldrail... We do need the previous months as well.."
     
    WHAT?!!
     
    Back to the bank then... I wonder if you can get free footwear from the government if you're unemployed. Or headache pills...
  3. caldrail
    The tv weather warning was very clear. Rainclouds moving into cold air right over Rushey Platt. Snow! Now since England is the one country in the world totally unable to cope with this phenomenon I decided to take precautions against inclement weather. Pointless. As usual, the snow avoided Rushey Platt like the plague. This always seems to happen. Some years ago the whole country was inundated with snowdrifts up to 6' deep - but not Rushey Platt, blissfully clear of anything remotely resembling a snowflake. It never snows in the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire!
     
    Yesterday was Back To Work Day. Its that one day of the year that no-one ever discusses. Even better, it was Visit From The Auditor Day too. The young gentleman turned up in a suit that was probably fashionable two hundred years ago, looking very conspicuous in a warehouse enviroment. Needless to say, our rapid enforced move from The Hangar was the root cause of considerable embarrasement...
     
    On the way home today I got a toot from UT, driving past in his faithful flatbed van. Nice to see you're still out there UT, but where's Lord H? Surely he's not still ferreting?
     
    Also, walking along a footpath behind a car factory, I spot the working of our local scrap dealer. A long line of american style railroad gondolas waiting to be picked up with their loads of scrap metal, plus a passing Vauxhall Cresta (one of those 50's/60's cars designed to emulate american styling) conjured up an image of US railroading. The engine driver ambling along the tracks had a lumberjack coat too, and the image was perfect. Shame it was grotty old england really...
    Damp Squib Of The Year
    Oh all right I admit it. This years festive season was a washout. I think that we must learn from our mistakes and move on. Put it all behind us. So lets get back down the pub, drown our sorrows with quality booze, and... Oh good grief don't tell me our beloved Prime Minister is banning that too? He's already banned car accidents, smoking, and eating in an effort to reduce hospital waiting lists. Or are we now going to be refused hospital treatment for broken ribs caused by laughter?
     
    New Years Resolutions
    I hereby pledge not to waste any time making stupid resolutions about behaviour I've no intention of changing even if my nether regions were threatened with small furry mammals under duress. However, I can be bribed, and for a pint of cider, a bag of wine gums, I might be tempted to make an exception.
     
    For one silver Ferrari 360 Modena, low mileage, one careful owner, I'm anybody's. Now that is a resolution!
  4. caldrail
    Last night I popped across the road to the kebab shop for a burger. I don't do this frequently, though I have to say I'm not particularly worried about horror stories of whats in it. Now I doubt their burgers are actually wholesome. My mother once gave me some she'd ordered along with other produce from Scotland and I have to say those were in a different league altogether. But I fancied some minced moggie, ash, and other undesirable stuff and they say a little of what you fancy does you good.
     
    "Hi Boss" said the old guy behind the counter. These turks call everyone Boss. "Yes?"
     
    I'll have... a cheesburger and chips please.
     
    "Ok Boss. You wanna sauce with that?"
     
    Chilli please.
     
    "You wanna salad?"
     
    Oh just onions.
     
    "You wanna cheese with your burger?"
     
    Don't your cheeseburgers normally come with cheese?
     
    "Yes. But do you wanna cheese?"
     
    Yes. Yes I do . Please put cheese on my cheeseburger. I would like mature cheddar freshly sliced straight from a refrigator.
     
    "Yes Boss. This cheese ok?".
     
    Is that mature cheddar frreshly sliced from a refrigerator? The young man with cross-eyes yells something turkish to the old man.
     
    "Yes Boss. Sliced cheese. Cheese ok?.. Huh?"
     
    Oh go on then.
    'Bill Oddie' Moment of the Week
    Those who don't know who Bill Oddie is, he's a tv presenter (once a comedian) who does a lot of nature programs, enthusing about small furry mammals and casting scorn on Swindon. Well, Mr Oddie, here's something you might appreciate.
     
    My parents maintain resteraunt and hotel facilities for local wildlife, and to be fair, they do get a wide variety of birds dropping in (and sometimes dropping on us). A sparrowhawk was there, patiently waiting on the fence for the blue tits in the nesting box to come out to play. The blue tits of course were more sensible. There was that blackbird that likes to wet its feathers in the faux watercourse feature on the back wall. Then, with spectacular powers of intellect, a big fat pidgeon decided that was a cool idea and copied the blackbird, choosing instead a plastic seedbox full of rainwater. He dipped head, shook his wings. You could see him thinking 'Hey, this isn't bad', and he got more enthusiastic. Then he slipped and fell in.
     
    The soggy pidgeon flapped and fumbled its way out of the water, flopping onto the paving stones whilst family and I burst into hysterics. It sat there looking thoroughly embarrased.
     
    I guess you had to be there.
  5. caldrail
    Back in my childhood, I used to watch Dick Dastardly's elite German squadron attempting to Catch That Pidgeon. Like an aerial roadrunner, it always got away. Muttley, Dastardly's less than faithful dog, always got his medal. Herr Dastardly always got his comeuppance.
     
    Ever since their brave service as message carriers in the Great War, Pidgeons have developed a nasty streak. They instinctively know when you're in your best clothes or you've just washed your car, and know exactly how to deflate your pride. Why are pidgeons so vindictive? Is it because Captain Blackadder shot Speckled Jim, General Melchetts beloved carrier pidgeon, and ate him? Is it because we now use mobile phones to contact one another thus have rendered Pidgeonkind redundant? Is it because I used to laugh when pidgeons thought their reflection in the window were rival birds? Is it because I never fed them?
     
    For whatever reason it now appears that I'm a legitimate target for pidgeon insurgents intent on world domination. Here's my proof....
     
    Pic of the Day

     
    The pidgeon paratroops descended on me at Coate Water and advanced remorselessly on my position. Its a terrifying experience, alone, unarmed, facing pidgeons with orders to peck to kill. I searched for breadcrumbs in a desperate bid to distract them while I made my getaway but to no avail. Then I realised that evolution is happening right here in Swindon. Pidgeons, facing a perpetual struggle for the stale crusts thrown by old women, have cottoned on that we humans are tastier and even now practice their hunting skills in the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. We all laughed at Alfred Hitchcocks predictions, but now we see how right he was. You have been warned. Keep watching the skies!
     
    Obituary of the Week
    Kathy Staff has died. For foreigners thats probably a bit meaningless, but she played the infamous old battleaxe Nora Batty in the everlasting tv series Last of the Summer Wine. She had become an icon for wannabe dragons everywhere. What can Mankind do to protect itself against the pidgeon threat now that our foremost warrior has passed on?
  6. caldrail
    People just can't resist it can they? A white van covered in dust is an invitation to add your favourite gag. usually its Clean Me which is probably a little obvious.This morning I passed I wish my girlfriend was this dirty. Oh wow, that was original, number two on the best selling dust graffiti list. Number three is of course your favourite football team, number four a crude reference to sexual activity, number five a statement of undying love in a heart shape.
     
    Swindon does not score points for original thinking then.
     
    Years ago I was on casual earnings driving a van making collections and deliveries of parcels. I'd parked the van in Maidenhead to find somebodies premises. At the time I was wearing military surplus trousers (this was long before they were fashionable) and some wag wrote on the back of the van I found Donalds trousers. Not bad! So not wishing to be upstaged, I added And delivered them on time too
     
    In retrospect, perhaps it isn't quite as funny as it seemed back then, but then graffiti rarely is.
     
    Obituary of the Week
    I doff my cap at Charlton Heston who passed away this weekend. It seems the grim reaper has finally wrenched his rifle away from his cold dead hands, the very same man who thumped his fist onto a beach in frustration and condemnation at mans folly. The same man who led the Israelites to safety (at least until the palestinians got fed up with them), the very same who won the Jerusalem Demolition Derby in AD33. Yes, I know he was acting, but the true mark of a great actor is that you believe the role is real. And he suceeded.
  7. caldrail
    This morning I popped into Lydiard Park. What a difference! After a five million pound restoration job the park is looking manicured and tidy.
     
    But.... Its also lost that rustic charm. I was young when I first starting going to Lydiard - it was a country park a few miles out of town back then. Now its on the edge of Swindon, a public open space, and the old untouched woodland has gone, undergrowth cleared, replaced by wide grassy meadows amongst the trees. The old lake has been cleaned up but despite promises its still smaller than its 18th century origin, the water level some 4 or 5 feet lower than the water line still clearly visible. The dam has been repaired and cleaned up, but it no longer serves as a scenic wier but rather an ornamental raised footpath.
     
    Five million quids worth.
     
    I don't like it.
     
    Earthquake Warning of the Week
    Be careful california, scientists expect an earthquake of 6.7 on the richter scale (thats Big But Not The Big One) somewhere before 2037. Inevitable they say, all the signs are pointing to an increase in gelogical tension. As an earthquake survivor myself - Yes, the earth really did move for me that night - I feel fully justified in putting on the sandwich board and wandering down the road shouting "The end is nigh!". Of course the americans won't listen but one day they'll be sorry.... Yes officer, I'll move along now....
  8. caldrail
    Yesterday I was strolling home from a visit to a supermarket a few miles away from where I live. Its an old country road that was swallowed by a huge redevelopment of the farmland around west swindon back in the 70's. In fact, for cars its a dead end, because much of the road is now a deddicated bus route.
     
    Imagine my suprise when a car drove past gently. The driver had come down the road, seen the NO EXIT sign to the adjacent main road (the slip road is for buses only!) and proceeded to drive the wrong way down a single lane for buses coming the other way (The bus lane is clearly marked on the road surface with a directional arrow too). The usual procedure in these situations is to say "Ooops" and stop, reverse gently, and turn around if need be.
     
    Not this guy. He continued at a gentle pace looking for a turn off - sorry, its a bus lane, only one exit ahead. Directly onto a busy dual carriageway facing the wrong way into flow of traffic, not to mention a large roundabout exit in front of him.
     
    So what did he do?
     
    Well... There were no screeching of tires, horns blaring, or irate shouts from flustered drivers. He just pulled out and in total confusion found his way out of difficulty without causing a major accident. A few seconds either way and it would have been different.
     
    Job Interview of the Week
    part of the conditions for being paid benefits is that I make myself available for work. There's a list of stuff I have to do each week to qualify. One is that I phone a service for job searches, and one vacancy they gave me was for a garden center. The contact was a Mr LW, and I duly phoned the number provided.
     
    A woman answered, with a heavy local accent. I asked to speak to LW but she replied "He's not here... Wots it concerning?"
     
    I'd like to discuss the job vacancy you have.
     
    "Ohh the job. What do mean 'discuss'?"
     
    Well I would like further information. At this point I get the impression she's not too bright.
     
    "Do you want the job or not? Why do you need to discuss it?"
     
    I was given this number by the employment service. What I'd like to do is find out more and....
     
    "I think you're wasting my time.... (click BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR)
     
    So I'm not going to get the job then?
  9. caldrail
    Tried to log on to the PC at my local library this morning. Apparently my domain did not exist and therefore I'm a non-entity the computer network doesn't recognise. Hey, I know I'm unemployed but this is a public facility right?
     
    The man at the desk assured me it was merely my login card that had expired. He tapped a few keys, smiled, and sent me on my way.
     
    Right then, log on... wait.... Oh joy, I'm still a non-entity.
     
    So having gone back to the man at the desk I discover there's now a long queue of non-entities struggling to log on, and most of them have jobs. The somewhat flustered gentleman went back to the PC with me to check that I wasn't some klutz who couldn't get his password riight, fending off queries from others sat waiting hopelessly at their PC's. having seen me fail to log in, he then attempted the log in for me (can you imagine how smug he would have looked?) but that failed too. Running out of options, he then logged me in as a guest.
     
    Hi. My name is Mr Guest.
     
    Can't wait to find out if Caldrail is still a non-entity tomorrow morning....
     
    Accident of the Week
    Goes to me. Along the main pedestrian shopping area I strolled down to the bank. The sun was out although the ground was still wet from a heavy rainshower a few minutes earlier. There I was minding my own business, threading my way through the disinterested crowd, when....
     
    My foot slipped a little. Whoops, lets regain my balance.. whoops, slipped again, worse this time.... Uh-oh, this doesn't look good... Oh no! I'm falling over!
     
    Well I didn't just fall over, I left the ground entirely and dropped to the pavement with quite a thud. A concerned gentleman kindly asked if I was ok and offered to help me up, but that was too much after making such an exhibition of myself. I thanked him and was on my way.
     
    I've got quite a bruise on my right knee.
  10. caldrail
    Ok. The blog's been running for a while, stories are getting thin on the ground, characters a bit familiar and tired, and its slowly metamorphising into Last of the Summer Wine. Time then to... Come with me now - and let me take on a journey through Time and Swindon, to the Land of the Mighty Supermarket...
     
    Why is it, whenever I go there, that every old person seems to drift in front of me and block my progress in the search for provisions? You turn left, you turn right, you give up and use the next aisle, and they still block you. These days of course they have those infernal mobility buggies, which aren't designed to negotiate the torturous corners in your typical supermarket. Oh get out of the way Old Person, I want to go...
     
    "Excuse me young man. Could you reach up there for me? I want a tin of peaches.."
     
    Of course madame. There you go.
     
    "Thank you. You're very kind."
     
    No problem.
     
    Now please get out of the way...
     
    Oh no, I've attracted the attention of that young keen security guard. He's shadowing my every move like James Bond after a KGB agent. Heck, I hope no-one saw me putting that bag of vegetables in my shopping basket...
     
    Then there's that spooky check-out lady, the one who started a few weeks ago. She's nearly ready for a bus pass too. As she lifts my bottles of coloured water through the barcode reader, she says "Good value these, aren't they?"
     
    Yes. Yes they are. Thats why I buy them. Hasn't that possibility occured to you yet? Or that you've asked the same question each time I've used this lane at the check-out - Am I stuck in some sort of time loop? Condemned forever to pass through this ladies check out lane?
     
    No. If I've learned anything from endless repeats of Star Trek Next Generation, there's always a way to break the cycle. Come on Caldrail, what would a trekkie do in a situation like this?
     
    Ah yes. Beam me up Scotty....
     
    Undiscovered Tribe of the Week
    In Brazil a previously undiscovered tribe has been found in the Amazon jungle.Sorry guys, even you can't escape my blog.
     
  11. caldrail
    Its getting dangerous walking to and from work. That car salesman is watching me walk past like a predator on the african savanna under the shade of a tree. Quick Caldrail, avert your eyes, he'll think your wallet is open....
     
    I've passed Santa on the street. looking very dapper, even effete without his usual white beard, and obviously on a diet. I think its like any celebrity, downdressing to avoid the publics attention.
     
    Is it just me, or is this going to be the dullest christmas ever? usually at this time of year I get idiotic smiles and seasonal greetings from complete strangers, but not this time. Everyone just wanders around looking aimless. Has the government finally achieved its aim of turning us into robots, bereft of instructions on what to do during the festive season? Perhaps this is some subtle government strategy to support our ailing prime minister, GB, who clings to power like a child about to be stripped of his toy.
     
    Anyhow, regardless of government policy and religious dogma, Have a merry xmas everyone. Except GB, who really does need to ask us whether he can play at Number 10.
     
    Quote of the Week
    "Floods should be treated like terrorism" said an author recently. Oh? Does that mean I have to take more care running the bath? Am I at risk of SAS and SWAT teams bursting through my bathroom window with stun grenades, pointing real live pistols at my head, and screaming "TURN THAT TAP OFF NOW!!!!"
     
    Does this mean that sewage workers will receive medals for bravery?
     
    Will the army mount patrols every time it rains?
     
    Or will our nanny-state government offer VIP's security teams to ward off puddles? Wellies are not enough protection these days, we demand fast, armed responses to water escaping our rivers.
     
    Didn't Canute try this once?
  12. caldrail
    As I sat down to type this entry, I was distracted by the sound of rain against the window. A heavy downpour from a grey sky. Yet earlier this morning it was such a fine morning. Chilly, for sure, but you'd expect that with open skies at this time of year and it was a noticeably colder night before.
     
    Almost as soon as it arrived the squall subsides, leaving only overflowing gutters to drip water in long thin streams. In a whie it might be safe to go outdoors again.
     
    During the sunshine this morning I bumped into DW, our intrepid online journalist. You never have to make any arrangement to meet him, ever, because sooner or later he's there, somewhere ahead of you, popping out of thin air like a Star Trek Away Team. Only without the silly nioses and special effects. So we had a little chat. Business, you understand, nothing for the world to know about, but just for you lot we discussed sex with young ladies. A good, healthy pursuit for all ages. Most of the time anyway.
     
    Even earlier than that I was back at the Programme Centre being interviewed by one of the attractive young ladies. If ever there was a reason to stay unemployed, that was it. However despite my middle age randyness (some might say optimism) it was of course business. So it's bye for now and I wander off to lower my pulse rate.
     
    Sometimes we need to relax. A sort of deep breath and clearing of the mind. Sometimes we have to chill out. Like relaxation, except you need to lounge in a much lazier fashion and wear dark sunglasses. Sometimes you need to be somewhere between. I would have called that cool, but DW, for whom relaxation is an alien concept, struggled with the idea and mangled his words, telling me he needed to "Chillax".
     
    I have to say, I'm in a kind of chillaxed mood today. A new word in the english language has been created. Designed by DW, marketed by Caldrail. Go ahead. Stop what you're doing and chillax. You know you want to as well.
     
    Chillax Man
    I do not believe my eyes. Space Invaders? You mean that eighties arcade game is still out there? Even more astounding is that a guy in america has scored twice the previous high score made in 2003. Now there's a guy who serious likes playing computer games. Even the older boring ones. I hate to ask this, but is Mr Knucklez an older boring person too? At least in my case a social life is too expensive.
     
    Jeez, Mr Knucklez, chillax. Or get a girlfriend. If you've forgotten how or never learned the appropriate social skills. I'm sure DW can give you a few pointers.
     
    And Now?
    The clouds have drifted by. The sun is shining again in a blue sky. Time for me to go about my lawful business and just chillax.
  13. caldrail
    The French said No. The Dutch said No. Having rendered further progress on the Treaty of Lisbon illegal, the power brokers behind it then asked the Irish. The Irish said No. So the power brokers behind it are now telling us we must find a way around the obstacle.
     
    Pardon?
     
    Whats the point of a vote if its going to be ignored if the sponsors don't like it? The people of three countries have stated their wish to halt further european integration under the terms given.
     
    It hasn't gone unnoticed by me just how much of traditional english life has been dismantled already, and that by a socialist government that has already declared it will continue to ratify the Treaty of Lisbon. A treaty that gives Brussels unprecedented powers over its contituent nations.
     
    We cast a critical eye on events in places like Zimbabwe thinking it could never happen here, yet something uncomfortably similar is growing under our noses. I've warned about this sort of thing in the past. If you don't defend your freedoms someone will take them away sooner or later. A government that doesn't listen - at all - is a tyranny. Its easy to say that such views are merely paranoia. Perhaps, but its also true that tyrannical governments thrive where people dismiss their intentions as harmless.
     
    It may well be that many things that have occured in Britain are nothing more than coincidence, but I can't help seeing some sort of gameplan here. British nationalism is well known - its an obstacle - so lets dilute it. We'll give Wales and Scotland the local government they want. We'll import large numbers of immigrant workers. We'll stop teaching 'proper' history in our schools. We'll use fears over climate change. We'll use fears over terrorism. We'll make the british people dependent on government aid. We'll encourage the british people to see themselves as european.
     
    There are men and women out there planning our futures. The only problem is, they're not the ones we voted into office. It would be a grim irony if the sacrifices made by our forebears to fight for freedom in Europe were pushed aside and a new reich put in place.
     
    Good News of the Week
    The crew of the space shuttle Discovery have been told that the floating debris and an unexplained bump are not dangerous. One certainly hopes so.
  14. caldrail
    In some ways, my computers health crisis has proven to be something of a break from my usual routine. Its been a while since I last did any serious work with music but already the temptation is growing. Unfortunately it has been a while since I last practised, and to my chagrin I've realised how lame a player I've become. No matter. The guitar, bass, and keyboard have colonised my front room and my fingers are very, very sore!
     
    You know what? I think its time I explored some of the musical forms I had in mind way back in my Red jasper days. I don't like making promises about producing great work and so forth, it always sounds like sour grapes and talentless bluster, so I'll say no more. If you'll excuse me, my masterpiece awaits...
     
    ...And the best bit is, our old band singer won't be able to claim the lyrics and melodies are his! Ooops. Did I mention sour grapes?
     
    Music Lesson of the Week
    It's struck me how lucky youngsters are these days. Back when I started rock music, and this was 1976, getting reheasal space and gigs was a monumental effort. Today the young musicians get government assistance, college courses, community gigs, exposure slots on radio. What struck me even more was just how clueless some of these kids are. Is that because I'm some great expert in the business? Well hardly, though obviously I've had some valuable experience, but with all this assistance available how come so few of them actually learn anything?
  15. caldrail
    I don't usually like to sound sexist, but I've decided that after many years experience, women bosses are useless.
     
    Why?
     
    First is DG. She rose to power on the basis of impressing the male managers with her knowledge and expertise of our database workstations. Actually I don't think she knew that much - she was just better than most of making a big thing of it. Anyhow, she became the warehouse manager. All very smart and efficient, but she never left her office. The whole warehouse got to the point of collapse when she emerged one day and asked - "Whats going on?". She was also the person who left a briefcase in the foyer and sparked off a bomb alert involving police, the fire brigade, and a bomb disposal team from the army. Ok, everyone, you can go home now....
     
    Or BB. Bless her. She was a rising star in the offices and they brought her into the warehouse for experience. One day she gathered a few of us long-timers and sat us down. "Right" She said, "I want you all to oversee stock control, and I want to sit down together each day and discuss any issues and resolve them amongst each other, and..."
     
    I stopped BB in mid flow. B, I said, whats the point? There's no issues to discuss and if we need anything, we just ask someone. BB stared open jawed at the alien concept of co-operation, then said "Yes, but I want you to discuss your issues....."
     
    Lets not forget DS. A dizzy blonde who cannot retain her balance in social situations, a woman for whom no frivolity was beneath her. A woman who turned the office into a practice range for elastic band missiles, whom I personally wrestled for possession of her golf balls (which she had been banging on the desk - why? What did you think they were?). A woman who sacks anyone who doesn't join her crowd of admirers, and a woman who has spent time in psychiatric counselling (nicknamed the 'Nutty Club' by us minions). A woman who believes a Vauxhall Vectra is a desirable motor car. Luckily she's also got a memory span that a goldfish would pour scorn on so now that she's sacked me, I can relax safe in the knowledge she's already forgotten me.
     
    How to be patient
    The telephone rings. I fall off the seat clumsily and pick up the receiver to speak with a bemused delivery driver who can't find my address. Not too suprising, since the address was incorrect. Is that typical for imports through Ireland? No matter. The driver was given the correct address, and I awaited my software eagerly.
     
    At 15:00 hours (approximately) I begin installing the package. Gone are the days of multiple disks and hefty instruction manuals, all you get now is a DVD.
     
    At 16:45, I realise the install procedure isn't going to be quick. Good job I'm patient. The progress bar has hardly moved. I decide to wander off and do something else in the meantime.
     
    At 21:38, the install dialog brings up a message saying "Processing Help System. Help is being installed. This may take an extended amount of time". My desk soon develops several dents and my head hurts...
     
    00:35 and all is well! Its installed! Yahoooo! (thump) zzzzzzz.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........
  16. caldrail
    I've been shouted at by a woman as I left work yesterday. Don't know why - she just started on me and gave her opinions as to my capability. Yeah whatever lady, just keep taking the pills. No doubt she's bragging to her friends and family about how she saw me off, but could my lookalike please stop upsetting everyone?
     
    Advert of the Week
    The banner hung on the front of the church I passed on the way to work said - 'Join the Alpha Course - Discover the meaning of life'. Isn't that typical of christian marketing? Attract all those unhappy and depressed individuals passing by and tempt them with optimism, hopes, dreams, and finally try to sell them a ticket to paradise (redeemable on death). A shop a few doors down had another sign - 'Jesus is King of Kings, Lord of Lords'. Obviously someone has done the Alpha Course. Shame he didn't finish the masters degree in business really, since then he wouldn't have been depressed by his 'closed for business' sign last year.
  17. caldrail
    As usual, we line up outside the library waiting for it to open, so we can all enjoy the public internet access. Read books? Ahem. The doors open, and the library assisteant, a clean cut lad, is brushed aside as the experienced library goers are keen to log on. Poor lad nearly gets trampled to death.
     
    Good grief, AM's friend has bought himself a new coat. Instead of the filthy padded jacket he's owned since 1976 he now wears a raincoat, very suitable for spring sunshine and long days in the park. Err.. feeding birds that is...
     
    AM himself is his usual self. The world exists for him to whinge about, and as usual, his attempt to send emails to Mauritius fail and he gets uptight about it. He loudly informs us all of how difficult the computer is to use, and how easily it doesn't do what he wants. Having informed and educated us, he eventually harasses the library staff and an incredibly patient lady shows him the correct button, the one he was shown last week.
     
    So we sigh with relief, and do our own thing. Then one person opposite speaks into her mobile phone quietly....
     
    "Hey!" Spits AM irritably, "We're trying to use our emails, could you be quiet please?"
     
    Well, most of us already were, but he went red-faced as myself and others try desperately not to guffaw too loudly....
     
    My Event of the Week
    I got a phone call yesterday. Wrong number. Ok, back to sleep...
  18. caldrail
    Yes its mid-July, and the rainy season is upon us. It seems global climate change has given us a monsoon in summer. Here in Rushey Platt there's great concern about where all this rainwater is going to go. The Swindon area isn't too badly off where flooding is concerned, seeing as its built on a hill. Given last years floods and the media attention it received, people are obviously worried.
     
    Funny thing is, I had a dream last night on this subject. Nothing apocalyptic I'm afraid, so I can't write loving descriptions of it, but it was one of those curious dreams where the local area is modified. I dreamt of large basins being dug out in the countryside to serve as drainage lakes, and I vaguely remember looking at a map of them with all the names printed in blue. I was wandering around the area looking at these half completed muddy pits.
     
    As dreams go, it was pretty mundane. Yet in some ways the imagery was very vivid, and in the back of your mind such dreams always leave an impression don't they? How many of us have woken up thinking we're late for work, rushing around like a headless chicken only to realise we're five hours early?
     
    Its tempting to think I've seen something more relevant than another subconcious ramble. A vision of a future? People in less educated times used to think exactly that. People would describe their dreams to others, preach their messages even, and subsequently suffer applause, ridicule, or physical torment as a result depending on whether the 'message' was approved by society, or rather the people running it.
     
    Thankfully we live in more enlightened times, and for that reason, I know I shouldn't take those dreams too seriously. Its still a vivid mental image however, and try as I might, I still have this gut feeling that the dream was somehow more real for some reason than most. I suspect, although most people might be reticent to admit it, that many of us have similar experiences too.
     
    Swindon Redevelopment of the Week
    The demolished shop across the road was touted as a site for a new nightclub a few years back. That I would not like at all, but it turns out the vacant plot is to have some luxury flats built there. Phew. Now all I have to worry about is the 'nightclub' downstairs.
     
    THUMP THUMP RUMMMMBLE THUD THUMP...
     
    Excuse me for a moment. I have to go downstairs and bang on someones door again...
  19. caldrail
    A couple of years ago, I watched a tv news report about some idiot in New York who kept wild animals in his apartment. Amongst the exotic beasts was a full grown tiger. Hard to believe, but there it was, on screen.
     
    A policeman was lowered on ropes down the outside of the block to administer a tranquilizer dart through the window. Understandably, police were reluctant to enter the apartment with a live carnivorous cat in a hungry mood. The big cat charged at the window and scared the policeman witless, but it was darted and everything was happy ever after.
     
    In this instance camera was too far away. You could see the head appear at the window. You could even see the open jaws, but so far away, it was lacking the excitement the hanging policeman must have felt.
     
    Thing is, we all know how dangerous these cats are but we never see how dangerous they are. Sure, a wild-life program shows them strutting their stuff and taking down a herbivore effortlessly. It looks so bloodless and quick. I do remember one shot of a big cat tackling a warthog and discovering that not all herbivores are easily killed. In that incident, the cat was thrown into the air and decided a retreat was advisable.
     
    Yesterday, on one of those awful 'amazing video' programs, I saw something about tigers I didn't expect. A tigeress and her cubs had escaped from a zoo, and local rangers were searching on the backs of elephants for the cat that had killed cattle in the area. Her cubs had already been caught, leaving the mother frustrated and angry. The Rangers saw it but the cat went to ground in long grass.
     
    The elephant was spooked. It was unhappy about proceeding. Then the tiger appeared out of nowhere, coming out of the grass at a run, looking up at the rider and darting to the side to avoid the elephant. It was quickly in position for a leap at the rider who sat front of the cameraman. Almost right in front of the camera, it lifted twelve feet into the air to attack him. It dug its claws into the man's abdomen and bit his left hand severely before running off. Clearly it meant to pull the rider off the elephant and kill him.
     
    The footage was stunning. This was a full on attack by an angry tigress and the sheer power of it was very impressive. Wonderful animals, an endangered species we really ought to protect, but one you treat with a great deal of respect.
     
    Fat Cat of the Week
    Amongst the fat cats getting the squeeze in the economic downturn is a boss in the Royal Bank of Scotland, whose
  20. caldrail
    It was a really nice day yesterday. The weather was warm, sunny, and although a band of stratus cloud marred the horizon, there was a clear blue sky. It's that time of year when the woods get colourful. The more extrovert trees have sprouted foliage, our more hesitant native oaks and ash trees still sensibly waiting for confirmation before growing leaves. In between, the grass has erupted in a bright green carpet. Yellow, blue, and white woodland flowers make a shortlived appearance before the nettles and ferns arrive to engulf them.
     
    It was definitely one of those days to relax, so on the grassy hill south of Croft I lay there watching birds wheel overhead, listerning to the breeze, taking in the sun. You know what? I came home feeling refreshed. Sometimes you just have to leave the modern world behind.
     
    Finding The Modern World Again
    The gas company has worked it's way up the hill and is now digging a moat outside my castle. One grizzled and muddy workman sought my attention and said "You live along here don't ya? Sorry mate, but we're go'in'ta shut the gas off tomorra."
     
    Oh? Are you? That's all right, I'm not worried. He looked at me all confused, as if he'd been expecting a tantrum about how hard life is going to be without piped methane. Good grief man, I lost my mobile phone over the weekend. A lack of gas is nothing compared to the biblical significance of losing contact with the outside world.
     
    After the frantic search I'd made the day before I decided to reassemble my home into some sort of habitable condition. There was the phone, lying between folds in the duvet, back from it's travels. Please excuse me, this is a private moment.
     
    Finding the Local Pub
    It so happened last evening I was walking home through Injun Country, the hive of edwardian terraces that house the local thieving rascals on the hillside behind my home. A car pulled out from a side turn and a young woman shouted at me "Where's the pub?!"
     
    I guess I'm too gentlemanly to remind her to be a little more polite. So instead I pointed and said "Round the corner". Well it is... A vee-shaped building on the end of a downhill terrace. Lots of people drive past without realising where it is. Oh dear. There she goes...
     
  21. caldrail
    What is art? that's a very philosophical question at first sight but a very important one if you intend earning your living from it. For most people, art is either pretty, pretty horrendous, or pretty well mystifying how someone got paid megabucks for a pile of oversized kiddies building blocks.
     
    There have been some incredible attempts at labelling mundane objects as art. There was that display in the Tate Gallery of a cube of unmortared bricks that earned the creator two million pounds. Most builders only get court summons and angry house-buyers. The reason I mention this is because of a new display that hit the news last night.
     
    Arnish Kapoor is one of those elite artists much in demand, and judging from his interview on tv, a consumate salesman. He likes the massive work, the shape, colour, and position (good grief, he's got me doing it now). His latest offering is an oval hole in a concrete floor with all the cutaway surfaces painted bright red. Yes... But what does it mean?
     
    Mundane art is so understandable. A still-life might be static and ordinary, but the skill is in the impression of motion, of depth, of character. Landscapes and seascapes speak for themselves. Impressions of mother nature are off to a good start anyway. But how do relate the world, or any sense of relevance, to a variety of garish blocks? It's a bit like buying a Hummer 4x4 because the salesman told you it encapsulated the misery and danger of twenty-first century soldiers. What car salesmam ever sold a car like that? The truth is, the artistry of the car you cast an approving eye on is the one that has balance and character of its own. It is, in other words, a visible sales point in it's own right. It doesn't need selling on artistry if that is what it has.
     
    So as far as I'm concerned, an artist that needs to explain a work has failed. Just admit it, Kapoor, you're in the wrong job. You were born to sell bright red cars.
     
    Art of the Week
    Here in Blighty we have a long running tv show that isn't exactly trendy. It's called Antiques Roadshow, a program in which locals bring out their dusty bric-a-brac for experts to appraise. Actually, whilst the program bores you to death with intricate details of the manufacture of victorian tableware and such, the faces of the owners when they discover the horrible old junk they wanted to throw away is actually worth hundreds of pounds is hilarious.
     
    This afternoon, whilst waiting to pop up the hill for my job course, I watched Antiques Roadshow in a state of bored stupor. They showed this dull ordinary painting of a river scene. Mostly beige, poorly conceived, and of no great artistic merit as far as I could see. Not according to the expert. It's woth at least
  22. caldrail
    Yep, thats me. Mr Cranky Pants
     
    My new neighbours keep locking the outside door and leave me struggling to get in and out of my own home. They keep starting to play loud music and I've got a sore foot banging on the floor. I keep applying for jobs but Swindon employers have recently had lobotomies so they can't understand their own recruitment procedures. The Saturday night Town Cryer Association is still in business and vocal in the early hours. My car is starting to look a little weather worn and dishevelled. Doesn't matter, I am too. I think I'm going to end up looking like Tom Hanks in Marooned.
     
    Ahh, Mr Caldrail, thank you turning up to this interview. A banana? No?, well, lets begin. So... How long have you been a part of western civilisation?... I see, and you have your own cave?... Excellent....
     
    So, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy a pair of garden shears...
     
    Positive Moment of the Week
    The lady at the employment office was impressed. No, really, she was. You've been busy She said with raised eyebrows as my jobsearch logs tumble onto her desk. Oh yes, its a great feeling, watching her totally unable to question my existence as a dole seeker and forced by circumstance to get me to sign on for another fortnight.
     
    But thats not really positive enough is it?
     
    Ok, after I left my house a few days back, a passing lady asked if this was the road she was looking for. I said, yes, it is. She went away happy, I went about my business content in the knowledge that she hasn't become lost in the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. What a nice day.
  23. caldrail
    As I write this I'm watching the Glastonbury Festival on the box. Its amazing that a cow shed in a muddy field can be such an important event. Its been a long long time since I hit the stage at such an event - I certainly never got to play Glastonbury itself - but I remember one of our gigs on the bill of a folk festival in the west country. The stage was a lorry flatbed. No expense spared obviously.
     
    It was a cold and dark november evening when we went on. You could almost see the frost forming on the grass. You certainly couldn't see an audience. Oh hang on, there's one... over there...
     
    By the time we finished our set I was bare chested and sweating profusely. Stage performance in rock bands can be tiring on an athletic level, and since I was the drummer, I was giving the most physically intensive contribution of the band. Luckily DD, the frontman and band manager, isn't on this blog to claim his performance was the most effort. I doubt there's enough disk space. RH, our guitarist, came last in the exciting performance stakes. He so wanted to be a serious musician.... To be honest, I so wanted a reaction from the crowd. Playing to a muted response is hard work, a test of your resolve and morale. At least we weren't booed.
     
    Funny thing is, DD was in the crowd later and had a conversation with him. "Great gig man" The audience told him. Oh? Then why the heck didn't you clap? We were dying up there....
     
    "You try clapping wearing gloves with a pint in one hand and a burger in the other". Said the audience, who noticeably hadn't brought a girlfriend with him. We never did spot clues like that...
     
    A Pimp Too Far
    Pimp My Ride is a tv program where poor people let the specialists do a makeover on their old bangers. Usually the result is a tasteless and garish eyesore even worse than the original flaking paint, but I suppose if thats what shakes your tree... Anyhow, the Michael Eavis, the farmer behind the Glastonbury Festival, gave the team a sixty year old tractor to be pimped and turned into a desirable street machine. At least they tried.
     
    "What does 'Pimping' mean?" Asked Mr Eavis with a look of innocent curiosity.
     
    Election Result of the Week
    Mugabe has won. The rerun of his presidential vote has taken place and Mugabe beat his opponents. You know what I mean. Thing is, since there weren't any competing politicians after Morgan Tsvangarai pulled out, you have to wonder why he only got 85% of the vote.
  24. caldrail
    The big deal in Britain at the moment (apart from our economies disappearing act that is) happens to be the plans for the expansion of Heathrow airport. Now that the airport is operating at 99% capacity they want an extra runway which requires the demolition of two nearby villages and the loss of seven hundred homes and businesses. If they want more landing space, why not use the River Thames? The Americans have shown it can be done.
     
    You have to hand it to the pilot of the Airbus 320 that made a smooth arrival on the River Hudson. His skill at the controls certainly saved the lives of the passengers and crew, and in modern airliners with big engines hanging under the wings, such a landing is potentially disastrous. I also feel some sympathy. Whilst I've no doubt the man would simply he was only doing his job, the media circus wants a hero.
     
    Amongst the people who shouldn't be called heroes are sportsmen. Scoring goals or points doesn't quite involve life or death risk in a selfless effort to save others. Come to think of it, I guess the politicians supporting the Heathrow are not exactly well-regarded in some circles right now. It's not just the poor people who stand to be turfed out of their homes, but also the green lobby who deeply resent any increase in carbon dioxide.
     
    Its hard to empathise with the green lobby. Their movement has all the overtones of religion and lets be honest, although they give their own lives meaning by striving against enviromental issues, they would think nothing of foisting their views on the rest of us. Rather like the government that wants to demolish seven hundred homes without giving anyone a chance to persuade them otherwise. Heroes? Only in their own mind.
     
    Religious Intolerance At Home
     
    The news item said that a Christian bus driver refuses to drive a vehicle with an aetheist slogan "There's probably no God".
     
    Why? Does he normally say three Hail Mary's and close his eyes before flooring the pedal? Personally I don't see his problem. He does believe in God doesn't he? So what difference is a slogan going to make? Does he really believe people are going to take any notice as the bus rumbles past and fills the air with thick black diesel fumes? People discover their own God for all sorts of reasons. Bus slogans aren't one of them.
     
    Headline of the Week
    Our newspaper ran a story concerning a housing estate in Swindon. Abbey Mead and its drainage ditches are now a dumping ground for supermarket trolleys. Gasp! Surely not! Actually, West Swindon as a whole has been a dump for shopping trolleys for more than twenty years. Maybe I should have mentioned it earlier? Sorry.....
  25. caldrail
    He's at it again. Gordon Brown is thumping the table on the world stage and trying to impress upon everyone that he's a leading player. Walking beside Obama for the worlds press. Telling the economic conferences that we must all work together. Telling the third world they can have nuclear power if they don't point it at anyone else.
     
    I simply cannot stand the man. He spent a decade being lauded as a great chancellor, renowned for his prudent handling of the economy. What? All he did was overspend to please everyone and then paid the bill with Britains credit card, leaving his lacklustre successor Alistair Darling to look uncomfortable as the red letters roll in. He passed the buck. Instead of taking responsibility for his mistakes, he foists them on someone else and moves forward looking squeaky clean. Like Tony Blair before him, and probably with his tutelage, he's diverting attention from problems at home by making speeches abroad. He is, without doubt, trying to put himself in the history books as a great politician. He is, I sincerely hope, going to be remembered as the complete fraud he always was.
     
    Quiet Evening of the Week
    It's all gone quiet. Not a single rumble, drone, thud, or resonant vibration. I'll enjoy it while it lasts.
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