Adrian the sound man

Sound Engineers are often colourful characters but Adrian leads the field. I will say nothing of his attire other than to thank him for adding "Somerset Kilt" to my vocabulary.

His speciality is providing PA at outdoor events and he does it supremely well.

Disconcertingly the uses equipment from the 1960s. Adrian's idea of a foldback speaker is a battered leatherette boxed affair propped up at the required angle with a cable drum. If you're an ancient geek like me, the picture of his rig at Chippenham Folk Festival 2008 will bring back fond memories.


I have a degree in Electronics Engineering and no, I don't know how he makes it sound so good.

Of course, most bands expect modern equipment that looks like it cost thousands of pounds and event promoters rise to the challenge of persuading the musicians that this isn't going to be the gig from Hell.

Even people who know him well such as Andrew Sharpe of "Steamchicken" say "The trick is forcing yourself to trust him whilst he assembles what seems like the contents of the metal waste skip at the local council dump"

Andrew is a Solicitor in real life. Sometimes, you can't tell that from the way he talks.

Damien thinks "outside the box"

Jeff, the manager of the Counseling Centre prided himself on his sensitivity so when Damien strolled into the office whistling a merry tune it seemed rather pointless to ask the young counselor how he was feeling. Instead, he took a direct approach:

"What are you so bloody cheerful about?"

"You remember I had that problem with a gorgeous woman who approached me in a club?"
"The one who ended up bending your ear rather than any other bit of your anatomy?"
"Yes, but you will be glad to know I have taken your valuable feedback on board, cleaned up my act and even 'thought outside the box'!"
"Good. Go on!"
"Last night I had a date with Jane - one of Wendy's friends"
"Yeah, think I met her once. Pretty girl"
"When I picked her up, she seemed a bit tearful and asked if she remembered right that I worked at the Counseling Centre?"
"Uh Oh!"
"Nah, it was Ok! I told her a joke, tickled her and, well, lets say that by the end of the evening she was very happy indeed"
"Nice one!"
"YEAH!"
Then a worrying thought crossed Jeff's mind.
"You weren't thinking of using your new, err, technique here at work with clients, were you?"
"Oh yes" said Damien airily, "write it up, run a training course..."
"Good, that's the spirit!" said Jeff and they both laughed.

Badly designed robot

I don't know if you've tried Tesco self-service checkouts? They've got a woman inside them. She might be happy but she's certainly bossy! As soon as I heard her from a distance, I instinctively changed course to a human checkout.

As I stood at the checkout I could hear someone less wise doing battle with the robot:

Machine: "Insert Cash or touch payment card!!!!!"
Customer: [Fumbles in pocket]
Machine: "Insert Cash or touch payment card!!!!!"
Customer: Give me time!
Steve: [Laughs]
Machine: "Insert Cash or touch payment card!!!!!"
Customer: [to Steve] She's a very impatient woman!
Machine: "Insert Cash or touch payment card!!!!!"

Another time, I saw a member of staff going down a long queue for an ordinary checkout pointing out the new self-service machines. Everyone just pretended not to hear. Sometimes I'm proud to be British.

Understanding Opera

We learn things at different times in our lives - and often not to the expected schedule. So it was with me and my problem with opera. I just couldn't see the point of all that warbling and plots that I couldn't follow. I thought the reason I couldn't catch all the words was because my ears were bad. Found something about Auditory Processing Disorder and wondered if I had it. My ability to understand German opera much better, I kept to myself thinking that the world already had more of my eccentricity than it was comfortable with.

And then, a few days ago, I "confessed" my disability to a friend who loves opera and is about to embark on a degree in music. She told me that she can't understand a lot of the words either! So it's the opera singers putting high notes above intelligibility! Just when I thought I was getting over my "Emperor's New Clothes Syndrome"

Still, I'm clearer now.

And I think I owe my friend a drink.

1968

It's 40 years since 1968 - a year of revolution and turmoil. To celebrate the anniversary I'll dust off a memory…

A German boy was staying with us that August. Initially, his main interests seemed to be: getting his hair right, girls and how everything in Germany was much better.

Suddenly he developed a fascination with the TV News. Anxiously he watched footage of Warsaw Pact troops marching into Czechoslovakia to put an end to the "Prague Spring".

Well, our country wasn't next to Czechoslovakia and no one had seriously invaded England for over 900 years so I found understanding his fear of invasion quite difficult.

Perhaps that's why we're so keen on "liberating" other people's countries - and perpetually surprised at their ingratitude.

A different schottische

Ok, this post is dancers talk! Musicians might understand it :-)  Other people, feel free to let your eyes glaze over!

Steve Day showed us a schottische the other night. Said he'd got it from someone called Anne in Nottingham. Here's how it goes:

Usual ballroom hold
Described from the man's point of view

2 sliding steps left
1 sliding step right
3 sliding steps left
1 sliding step right
1 sliding step left

8 steps couple rotating (like the normal schottische 4)

Does it work?

In some ways it does. Any normal schottische (tune) will do. However, my feeling is that it could do with its own tune. Most schottische tunes are 16 bars long and the B part sounds different from the A part. So an ideal tune for this schottische would be 32 bars with a distinctive second half. The first half, to my mind, should be written to "tell" the dancers about the unusual and uneven steps.

In a perfect world, dancers would recognise the special tune, the men would lead it and their partners would follow - aided by the tune.

Steve Day was less sure about a special tune. He spoke of the tension of doing a different dance to familiar tunes.

Me? I rely on the music talking directly to my feet.

Hugs and Kisses

When I was younger, the rules seemed simple. You greeted your relatives with a kiss, your friends with hug and your girlfriend/wife/whatever with a snog. Now I'm noticing that an increasing number of my female friends want kisses!

Could it be that my charisma is just in better shape than it used to be? Nice idea but perhaps not.

Maybe there's a deep psycho-sexual thing. Older people have enough sexual experience one way or another to be totally blasé about possible connotations of a kiss. This is quite a good explanation (especially since it grosses out younger readers who would prefer to believe that old people know nothing about sex - still less have it.)

No, it's easier than that.

As you grow older, you and your friends are more likely to have acquired bad backs.

A kiss is just safer than a hug.

Rick

I suppose all of us can think of people who influenced us in our youth. They were sufficiently different from our parents and peers in an attractive way. Rick was someone like that for me.

He was the warden of a Youth Hostel in the Forest of Dean, one of the isolated and beautiful corners of Gloucestershire. I'd joined a club that went off on cycling weekends, stayed at hostels and drank a fair bit.

So one December, I met Rick. Except I didn't at first because on the desk in the hostel was a note: "Warden in pub across the road". Didn't leave us much alternative! This was near 40 years ago, the pub had a piano, a pianist and people were singing. I'm not sure that lager had even been invented but brown ale I do remember. No one would have understood the expression "binge drinking"

We went over to see Rick quite often after that. Learned to cook sausages in the oven, sat on seats that had started life in busses long before recycling became fashionable. Sometimes we slept in the dormitory that had once been the village theatre. We helped Rick paint the place.

I remember the time Rick invited us into his private room and there on the wall were joined up maps covering all of Wales. That perhaps is his most tangible legacy to me because when I got my own place, I spent all one Easter weekend with wallpaper paste and Ordnance Survey maps. The results are by my side as I type this, a map with corners in Northampton, Reading, the Elan Valley and the fringes of Swansea.

Rick was a quiet man who was on his own a lot but sometimes there for a lot of people.

Another Story

As Jeff hugged the ground, he wondered why the machine gun had stopped firing. Then, in the distance, he could hear Bruce yelling to Wendy to hurry up with another magazine. Jeff's life swam before him: respected Manager of the Counselling Centre, the accusation, the arrest, the trial, the sentence and the escape attempt that now looked so futile.

He never realised that he was discriminating against left-handed staff by putting the mouse on the right hand side of the keyboard. Or by using words like "right" when he meant "correct" but Bruce had unmasked his criminal lack of diversity. At least he'd never used "cack-handed" or described anyone as "sinister". His lawyer had done his best, even pointing out to the court that Bruce was ambidextrous.

Tat-tat-tat-tat! It was getting too close. He'd better make a run for it. He only got a few yards before something hit him and he felt himself falling. He reached out to save himself and found he was holding a phone. He rubbed his eyes and saw vaguely familiar notices. The phone was ringing. Shaking, he answered it, "Counselling Centre, can you help me?"

Natural Selection v Intelligent Design

I think know why the Gooseberry Sawfly caterpillar that's trying to demolish the bush in my garden is almost exactly the same green colour as the leaves. It's that Charlie Darwin bloke up to his old tricks! Mind you, there's this alternative "Intelligent Design" theory that sort of says that a god of some sort painted them that shade of green to give the little darlings a chance against predators such as birds and, err, me!

So, if I went to church more often, the pests would change colour? Or maybe even eat some plant I didn't have?

Then the Lily Beetles arrived on my lilies! These things are bright red and sit on lily leaves, which are green. Is that "Intelligent Design" of a pest? I don't think so! I sent a "did u do it?" text to Charlie Darwin and got back a flat denial. Perhaps they drifted in from some planet outside Charlie's remit? There's an alien enthusiast in the next street. I'll ask him - might know something.

Anyway, zapped the buggers.

Getting technical

Phone rang the other day

Female: Paul is worried he can't see your Router?
Steve: That's probably because it's still in its box.
Female: Yes that would explain it.
Steve: Yeah, the cardboard is pretty thick.

She fell silent for just the right amount of time before starting to laugh.

Adventures in the NHS

I was a guest of the NHS for a bit….

A lady dressed in a white coat came into the cubicle and introduced hersef, "Hello, I'm Dr Findlay!" She gave me a few moments silence to make smart-Alec comments about her casebook but due to a rare attack of discretion, I failed to exploit the opportunity. Instead, I saw that her badge identified her as "Dr Sarah Findlay" and resolved to call her Sarah thereafter.

Like every other medical professional I've met before or since, she wanted to know how much I drank each week. "I'm awfully sorry" I answered, "I know I'm supposed to do 28 units but I struggle to get over 14". I was rewarded with a glimmer of a smile. Then I let slip my real addiction. "Look," I said, "there's this great dance on Saturday. Will I be able to go?" She shook her head. "Ok" I said getting desperate, Saturday week?" That got me a proper smile. "You'll know" she assured me.

They told me not to eat before the operation so when I awoke from the anaesthetic it was probably because of the sound and smell of the lunch trolley arriving. That or my stomach rumbling. So I grabbed my menu card and waved it enthusiastically. At that, a small nurse ran across the ward "No! No! No! You might get sick! No food for him!" I told her I was starving but it did no good. I dozed for a bit before being woken up by the trolley coming back. Cautiously, I peered around. No sign of the dratted nurse! Maybe I could score pudding, a bread roll, leftovers, anything??? Then I realised it wasn't the same trolley. This one had a banner across the top "Churches Together" and they were selling newspapers and bibles. Just to show how ecumenical they could be if they really tried, they catered for followers of the god Mars! Furtively, I waved a fiver and pointed at the chocolate…

Oh, I did get to the dance Saturday week. Sent Sarah a thank you card in triumph!

Canine Hydrotherapy?

There it was on the side of a van. "Aqua Padz Canine Hydrotherapy" What will they think of next?

But then I realised it was nothing new. Dan, the dog I grew up with was into hydrotherapy in a big way. He especially liked puddles with a crust of ice on top. He jumped in and wallowed. Didn't need a van or a fancy logo. Black, very hairy and always panting, he was worried about Global Warming way before anybody else.

Smart hound, he lasted 17 good years. In later life, went a bit grey, lost his sight and needed a guide person. A good mate.

Orwell was partially right

George Orwell was often right or even prophetic with the wind in the right direction. So when I heard about the new shouting CCTV cameras in the media, I thought, "He's done it again!" Of course, predicting something nearly 60 years ahead is small beer compared to biblical prophets but George did prophesise on a much smaller budget!

Anyway, I was walking home when an iron voice barked "Oi! You on the bike, you're going the wrong way!" I looked, and sure enough, there was a cyclist riding against the traffic in one way street. He lifted a lazy arm, waved two fingers in a nonchalant manner at the camera and rode on.

Now, had the camera operator been backed up by Orwell's Thought Police, all would have been well. A helicopter would have been despatched to take the miscreant to Room 101. In the real world, the operator may have been offered feedback from his line manager. Perhaps asked to consider the use of more respectful language to encourage compliance with the law?

Or maybe, just maybe, he and his boss had a subversive chat about the limitations of technology? I don't think so though. That would be
Thoughtcrime.

Derek the security man

Derek was different. He took his job as a security guard at Tesco seriously. Unlike his older colleagues who stood around not doing much and hoping to deter shoplifters by their mere presence, Derek wanted to catch thieves.

This livened up our retail experience! You'd be pondering the chilled fish and suddenly become aware of a 'presence' just on the edge of your vision. If you turned quickly enough, you'd spot Derek's beady eye peering round the edge of some shelves hoping to catch some misdemeanour.

Or you'd find him pressed against the display of tinned goods trying to look inconspicuous but hampered by the poor camouflage of his uniform.

Best of all were the occasions when he burst out of Tesco and sprinted down the High Street after an alleged offender scattering shoppers like skittles. I never saw him actually catch anyone but he did give it his best shot.

The poor deluded boy didn't seem to worry about the extra paperwork that would ensue if he did lay hands on anyone. Nor, did it occur to him that the local Police might less than overjoyed at the prospect of getting the van out to collect one miserable shoplifter. After all, this was before the days when fixed penalty tickets were the norm for such sins.

Then one day he was gone. Perhaps he'd been made redundant by a new CCTV system? Maybe the Police who he fawned on had pitied him and taken him on?

Anyway, it was about that time Tesco got a "Wine Advisor". An ordinary looking member of staff with a badge so you know what his job is. And he stands all day at the end of the wines and spirits aisle watching out for customers to assist. Now and again, he really can be seen helping people choose their booze.

I wonder if he's Derek's replacement?

Confusing women

There is a theory that states that 99% of men find women confusing. I'm one of the 99% guys! Take the case of "Sally". I hadn't seen her for years and bumped into her at a dancing festival. (Well, I call it a dancing festival but the organisers call it a "Folk Festival". I've tried the concerts but I fall asleep!)

Anyway, Sally mentioned that she'd given up on last night's dance because she got no partners. This surprised me - she's not in the first flush of youth but she looks good enough to get dancing offers and more! So I said I'd look out for her that night and give her a dance.

That evening, it was firmly in my mind that I needed to find Sally and dance with her - but it wasn't happening. So I did a proper search. The venue was a large sports hall and as well as dancing space, there was a huge grandstand affair. That's where I found Sally. She was half way up and sat right in the middle - as far away from the gangways as it was possible to get. So I went up the steps, climbed over 15 people and asked Sally for a dance. She agreed and stood up. "Wait a minute", I said, "let's get your coat and bag, you are not coming back here!"

So we deposited her stuff on one of the benches near the front and had a dance. Afterwards, she had quite a few dances with other men. A nice, neat bit of problem solving in my book.

I never saw her again.

Re-purposing the Planetarium

My mate Jenny has a planetarium. Well, she claims to manage one. I think she tells kiddies that it's a kind of hemispherical tardis. The inside is way bigger than the outside so there's room to keep planets, galaxies, the lot in there.

In reality she uses a lot of smoke and mirrors to create an illusion of the night sky - even though it's before the kiddies bed time. Neat and very responsible.

I've got an idea. Turn the whole thing upside down. Well not the planetarium itself you understand, that would be, err, challenging.

No, instead of projecting the night sky during the daytime, wait for a dull winter day and put up a beautiful sunny summer sky! Add some sand and seagull noises and you'd get queues round the block! You'd have to heat it of course but I bet the carbon footprint will be less than the customers flying off to The Gambia.

Might even qualify for a grant ;-)