Lifestyle Envy

I'm not going to lie, my life is pretty good. I live in a nice house close to some spectacular countryside. I have hobbies which are both fun and rewarding, good friends and a lovely girlfriend. OK I could do with a job sooner rather than later and I wouldn't object to another car (even if it's not one of the ones on my previous list). There are things I would change given the opportunity but, on the whole, I've got a pretty good lot.

All that said, I have a huge case of lifestyle envy. I wrote a while ago about a demonstration of gundogs and gundog training that I saw at an agricultural show. A massive pack of absolutely stunning labradors and spaniels of all ages, all of whom were impeccably behaved. They obeyed every command with interest and almost before it was issued. Amazing animals. They were owned and trained by a husband and wife team in Scotland.

A few months later and my dad paid them a visit with his next-door neighbour. The neighbours are thinking of getting a dog and dad went up because they are willing (hoping) to look after it from time to time - especially when the neighbours are at work since dad is retired. I suggested these guys because, as well as breeding the dogs and training them as working dogs, they sell dogs of various ages and various levels of training. This would be ideal for them as they have two young kids so a pre-trained dog would remove a lot of the stress of the initial phases as well as coming with a guarantee that they are good with kids (then again when are labradors ever not?)

Dad reported back the results of the trip today. First and foremost, the dogs are as amazing as I remember. he was most disappointed that he couldn't take all of them back with him (so was I come to that). The dogs apparently live the life of Riley in the highlands being doted on and running over the hills and glens. Apart from the dogs, the house sounds wonderful. I'm not usually awfully fussed by housey stuff but the idea of a sprawling farmhouse in the middle of nowhere (no other building could be seen in any direction) surrounded by hills, glens and lochs sounds idyllic - although I might have to change the aga. In addition to it being picturesque, it gives justification to owning the two landrovers in the drive. So to recap, idyllic home in the Scottish countryside with two fantastic landrovers and the day job involves spending most of your time marching over the hills with some magnificent dogs. Oh and just to cap it off, the wife of the owner is absolutely stunning and a trained chef to boot.

I'm sure after reading this, you can understand why I have a degree of lifestyle envy. Do you blame me? Part of me really wants to start a business like this myself but I lack a) the startup capital, b) the requisite knowledge of dog training (although I'm working on remedying this) and c) the contacts in the country sports world needed to make the business a viable proposition.

Ah well, it's nice to have dreams none the less. Perhaps one day!

JR

Postage in the UK

The postal service in the UK is an interesting beast. I wish I could write at length about it being an unqualified success. Doing so however would be more than a little untruthful. When sending mundane crap, it usually performs spectacularly; letter in post box one day. A day or so later, the letter is received. However as soon as something important is put on in the post, the whole system seems to slow down and the item is only  received the day you start seriously contemplating that it could be lost.

There are ways round this of course. Services are available whereby things have to be signed for. Orders can be tracked and there is a next day guaranteed delivery. All of these cost a lot of money though (especially given first class is supposed to guarantee next day delivery anyway) and in the  case of tracked mail, it only shows if the letter has been sent or delivered (or if sending overseas, if it left the UK) which isn't always much use. At best, it can be used as proof of postage should any problems arise with the item not being delivered or being delivered late.

Despite this, I would say it was a reasonable system. Being able to send stuff to pretty much any point in the UK and being reasonably sure it will get there within 48 hours is a decent deal. Being able to do so with the small effort of sticking on a stamp and ambling down to the local post-box (even these days still located on many street corners) is even better still.

Where the service falls down in a big way is when anything bigger than a letter is being sent. Firstly sending the item can be a bit of a pain. It involves queueing up at the local post office which are getting scarcer and queues are getting longer. Once you get to the front of the queue, you are faced with a raft of different sending options and the person behind the desk invariably being unable to read your writing (which is strange given there have never been any problems with normal envelopes). Despite this, the price for sending even large and heavy items is usually reasonable.

The biggest problem is delivery. Getting hold of your parcel can be an absolute bloody nightmare. As soon as something doesn't fit through the letter box or needs to be signed for, a world of problems open up. You wouldn't think it would be that hard... the postie knocks on your door. If you're in, you answer it and pick it up. If you're out, they leave a note and you can collect it: better still they could leave it with your neighbours.

Sadly this is a bit optimistic. Sometimes the postie will knock and, if the door isn't opened, will leave a card saying that they called, nobody was around and the parcel was taken back to the local sorting office for later collection. So far so good. Sometimes however, the card is delivered without actually knocking on the door. I have had this happen to me a couple of times. I have even managed to get to the door before the postie left, once to be completely ignored, once to be told that he did not in fact have the parcel. To be honest, irritating as this is, I don't entirely blame the people delivering the mail. Most deliveries are still done on foot or by bike so I don't really blame them for trying to lighten the load - especially around christmas time when everyone does their shopping on line. Things are made worse by the fact that they are given punishing delivery schedules to adhere to which would make fully-trained marines wince at the pace. What does annoy me is that there isn't a more efficient system to prevent this happening.

Now assuming you get one of these infernal cards; how do you go about getting your parcel. On the face of it, it looks easy. You either pop down to your local delivery office or phone up and get it re-delivered. Let's start with the re-delivery as it sounds like the best option right? Wrong. Usually they only give a 48 hour window which means it's almost impossible to schedule it outside of office hours making it more likely you will be around. Nor can you arrange for it to be delivered to a different address; work for example. Once, in desperation, I asked for it to be delivered to another sorting office (which I passed on a daily basis) only to be informed that this is impossible.

What about collection? Well in my first flat in London this wasn't too bad. The collection office was round the corner and for the entire time I lived there, I was either a student or working locally so I could go in at odd times and miss the long queues. That was however far too good to be true. My next collection office was obviously designed by MI5 being nearly impossible to find. It was hidden at the end of what looked like a residential cul de sac and about half a mile from where the post code suggested it would be. Super!

Now for the business of collecting it. The little card makes it explicitly clear that a certain amount of time must have elapsed before collection. Do not try to circumvent this. The word on the card is law. Furthermore, it makes explicitly clear that the card must be presented at the delivery office along with proof of ID. I almost understand the logic of this. You don't really want to be dishing out people's parcels to anybody but surely a bit of common sense could be applied. For example, possession of the card surely indicates you either live with the recipient or it has been given to you by the recipient therefore it is reasonably safe to hand the item over. This would have let my flatmate drop into the collection office seeing as he passed it on his way to work. However I do accept erring on the side of security. Where it gets really stupid is the presentation of the card. Bear in mind, no unique numbers or codes are on this; just your name and address. Yet, for some reason, it MUST be presented to claim your parcel. It is not good enough to turn up with proof that you are who you say you are and you live where you say you live. Still you must hand over this meaningless bit of card. No card. No parcel. Who the hell thought this one up. It can't be an anti-fraud device. It simply must be an anti-sense device.

All this rising tension culminates nicely in an experience I had a week or so ago, not long after I moved house. I had a bit of a shopping spree on Amazon and was awaiting the various bits and pieces. Mid morning coffee I heard a knock at the door. I hurry downstairs (we have an upstairs living-room) and fumble with the keys to open the door. As I open it, I see the postman writing up a card. He looks up, smiles and says, "Morning mate. You JR?"

"Yeah" I reply somewhat thickly since I hadn't really spoken to anyone that day.

"Great, here you go then." he says and hands over a pile of parcels before cheerfully saying, "Have a good day!" and strolling off.

I stand in the door for a second slightly nonplussed, my caffeine starved brain trying to compute what's just happened: cheerful, friendly postman... little missed delivery card... handing over my stuff with no fuss... FANTASTIC! It put me in a good mood for the rest of the day. I did try and give the Royal Mail some positive feedback after this in the hope that it would continue and others could benefit from my good-fortune. However, for some reason the only feedback the website is geared up to receive is complaints. Never mind.

I hope someone at the Royal Mail reads this and realises that little things like this are deeply appreciated.

JR

Prince Harry Pt II

Since Prince Harry was caught with his pants down last week there has been a swelling of public support. The general mood amongst the population (apart from those that seem to have outrage as a default setting) ranges from "good man", to "leave the lad alone".

One particular gesture of public support that came to my attention was a facebook group and website where people published pictures of themselves naked (or in various states of undress) and saluting in support. It's amazing what a regimental tie can conceal! If you want to see some more on the story have a look here.

All I can say to that is well done! It makes me proud to be British. Not only do we support our young royals having a bit of fun, we do it by gently taking the piss out of the po-faced fun police who try and suck the joy out of life for the sake of a few column inches. Keep it up (so to speak!).

JR

The Edinburgh Festival

Today is the last day of the Edinburgh festival. From today mime artists, street performers and makers of odd-looking jewellery will be returning to their corner of the earth (and possibly their day job). Comedians will, from now, begin work on their shows for the fringe next year and try to piece together what happened this year from pictures on facebook. Some careers will have started, others will have ended and some will be no different from the state they were in before. The barkeepers of Edinburgh will be considerably richer than they were before.

In principle, I think the fringe is a great idea. Well known and successful comedians can ply their trade to their adoring fans in intimate venues. Beginners in comedy can learn from the masters. People can be entertained both for a price and for free. It's possible to see multiple big names in one day, equally you can go to a gig with less than 10 people in attendance with the thrill that the performer might be the "next big thing". The whole thing is one great big f*ck off party to which everyone is invited. Round about the centre of town, you can reasonably expect to bump into some seriously big names in the world of comedy, have a drink, then wonder up the street and see some mates from uni performing on the street stage; possibly via buying a CD of some odd music you've seen some street performer play a minute ago.

Despite this, my experience of the Fringe has always been somewhat lukewarm. Having grown up on the outskirts of Edinburgh, the festival always spelled an unwelcome swell in tourist traffic (I know it's antisocial but there you go - good preparation for living in London I suppose).  However the reasons go deeper than this. My first real encounters with the fringe on my own were when I was about 14. Unfortunately it was battling my way through crowds and street performers to go and visit my dad in hospital. Pretty much the last thing I wanted to come face to face with was an obnoxiously loud street performer or yet another crowd.

Despite the poor start I persevered. I saw some great shows. Some comedians I have followed and admired for years have entertained me... Marcus Brigstoke's rant on the subject of iphones was worth several hundred times what I paid for it. The rest of the show was rather good too. Lucy Porter too was fantastic. Like everyone else that has ever seen her, I think I fell a little bit in love with her. However most of my trips to the festival have almost always ended with a massive argument with my then girlfriend. I doubt the two are related but the two are sort of linked in my mind.

However good the shows I've seen have been, one thing I have always been left with at the festival is a slight sense of anticlimax. After hearing so many stories of riotous occurrences at the fringe, I always feel mine never quite match up. The feeling that an almighty party is going on somewhere but I'm just not quite sure where. Not to mention the feeling that I ought to be having so much more of a good time than I am.

This is a bit of an odd feeling. Usually, I do my best to live life as much on my own terms as possible and not worry too much about the goings on around me. After all, we can only really live our own lives so getting worked up about how much others seem to be enjoying themselves seems a bit pointless. For some reason, the fringe seems to circumvent this aspect to my personality. Perhaps it's because the festival is so famous and notorious.

Perhaps unsurprisingly I had similar feelings about my first freshers week. Like every other new student, I marched into my halls filled with tales of other's drunken debauchery, sexual misadventure  and hazy memories of good times. I had a great freshers week. Some of it was drunken, some did involve adventures with girls but throughout a dim part of my consciousness was wondering if I was doing it right. After all, I remember all of it! Lots of booze was drunk but I did not wake up in any gutters or in some random part of town and I did manage to attend breakfast every morning and scheduled events during the day. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid!

JR

Lottery Win

As always happens when some British person has a huge win on Euromillions (close on £150 million last week) my idle fantasy thoughts turn to what I would splash out on if money suddenly became, in essence, unlimited.

First things first I would give my parents a decent chunk so my mum could retire and they could have a truly indulgent retirement. Following on from that would be some fairly substantial donations to charities I feel particularly passionately about. What about self-indulgence?

From previous posts I've covered pens and watches in great detail. Some houses would inevitably feature; I'm aware my ideal location would be Chelsea backed up with somewhere remote in the home counties and somewhere even more remote in Perthsire or the highlands. So far so good but being a bloke, I haven't really troubled my consciousness too much with the thought of houses. As you can see, location matters. I'm also rather partial to a study like M's office in the early Bond films (think leather-topped partner's desk, wood panelling, old books and a globe drinks cabinet with a fire and a chesterfield sofa) but interior design has never been my thing. Similarly clothes; I would still be on the smarter side of casual except the shirts would be from Turnbull and Asser and the suits, trousers, sportsjackets, etc would come from Saville Row (Gieves and Hawks probably, or Anthony Sinclair).

So far so decadent but one of the areas of self-indulgence I've given most thought to is, of course, the top ten cars to have in the garage. My list in no particular order is:

Landrover 110 Defender
Range Rover Vogue  (the one with the drinks cabinet in the back)
Aston Martin DB9
Aston Martin DB5
Jaguar Mark IV (the Inspector Morse one)
Jaguar E-type
Ferrari F355
Bugatti Veyron
Rolls Royce Phantom (one of the classic models, the new one is a bit square for my taste)
A Bently of some sort

Most of the choices are self-explanatory: the mark IV - one of the best looking cars ever built, the E-type... well it's an E-type, the DB5 is the ultimate Bond car and the Veyron is a piece of engineering history. What about the others? Well the 355 was my boyhood dream car. It might not be the best looking, it's certainly not the fastest but every time I see one my heart rate speeds up a few notches. The DB9 makes the list because it was the original of the new-design Astons. It was the first one to go from looking pretty (DB7) to truly sublime. Again there are newer models, there are faster models and there are probably more reliable models but the DB9 still hits the spot. It also has the magical prefix "DB". The Rolls and the Bently I will lump together: both stunningly good looking and the last word in luxury and comfort. A bit of an anomaly on the list is the 110. A theme with the others is certainly looks backed up with a bit of grunt. The 110 is ugly, slow and uncomfortable. However it will also go pretty much anywhere the nose is pointed and regardless of what's in between you and your destination. That's cool. Perhaps it might stay up in the Highlands though.

So what to use on a daily basis? Bluntly, I would plump for the Rolls or the Bentley with someone else driving. With it's heavy traffic and draconian speed limits (with zealous enforcement) the UK is hardly a fun place to drive. Yes there are some wonderful twisting country roads where you could challenge the performance of the more exotic cars without exceeding the speed limit but for day-to-day stuff having a driver would be great. You could be dropped off at the door of your destination, have a pint or two if it took your fancy then read a book or watch a DVD if the traffic got you. What's not to like? And if I had to drive myself? I would probably go for the Range Rover. Although the off-road performance is stunning I strongly suspect I would be one of those that never took it anywhere dirtier than a field. They are however enormously comfortable and well made, their suspension will iron out the pot holes and speed bumps nicely, it's powerful enough to give performance when needed and I like a raised driving position; it's nice to be able to see what's going on around me. Most importantly of all though; it's big. Really big. Huge in fact. This is a rather critical quality and one of the main reasons (I think) why people in cities by four by fours. It's nothing to do with notional off-road performance etc and everything to do with size. Driving a car like that gives you space (you've seen it on the tube and trains; people arranging themselves to take up as much space as possible). In a crowded environment, personal space is not to be underestimated and this is certainly the car equivalent. A big car gives you your own oasis where the only people close to you are those you want to be there, you can choose what you listen to and what the temperature is. What could be better?

Right, enough of the self-indulgent stuff. What would I do if the magic numbers turned up? Would I still pursue a career in law? Honestly, that would be highly unlikely. Other people need the job and why do something so demanding when you don't have to? I would however probably train as a special constable and as ambulance crew for St. John Ambulance. I see both as ways of giving something back to society and doing something useful but with the added benefit of it being voluntary so I can have much more say over when I am on duty and what I do. I also believe charity is about more than giving money and donation of time is enormously valuable. I would certainly explore my ideas for writing in a bit more detail (well I have to use the magnificent desk mentioned before for something) and use the time to learn new skills and polish old ones; I've always fancied getting my bike and my pilot's licence as well as learning a martial art. I also fancy dusting off the goggles and going skiing again. My girlfriend and I have also agreed that, if the big win comes, we will start a dog rescue centre. We both love dogs and this would be an ideal way to share the good-fortune. Not only would some deserving animals get well looked after but it's also a way of creating jobs for the local community as employing others to help out would be essential. This would also be a good way to start exploring my interest in dog training. Ideally (and I have no idea how practical this is) I think it would be wonderful to train some of the rescue dogs as "therapy dogs" that can go into hospitals, care homes and even the houses of the elderly and infirm and provide the particular brand of happiness that only a dog can give. It's just an idea but, I think, a good one (and on that note, if anyone reading this has the cash to start a similar enterprise then feel free to borrow the idea).

Right, after all that, I'm off to buy a ticket!

JR

Prince Harry Partying

So Prince Harry has been caught with his pants down... literally. While on holiday in Vegas (where else) Captain Wales has been photographed playing "strip billiards" and literally wearing a rather lovely, equally naked, young lady.

Naturally some commentators are up in arms about this behaviour decrying it as shocking and immoral. My thoughts; good lad! Yes he may be third in line to the throne which does have some implications. He is also the holder of one of Her Majesty's commissions and entrusted with serious amounts of Apache helicopter. However in this context, he is a young man, away with mates and letting his hair down (and let's face it, having had to endure the olympics, he deserves it). Anyway, getting naked and getting off with beautiful women is virtually in the job description of Cavalry officers. It could be argued that his brother, Prince William, would not do the same but his circumstances are considerably different. Firstly, he is due to inherit the throne at some point in the future. Short of his untimely death, this will happen and places the burden of history on his shoulders even now. Secondly, and even more pertinently, he is married to one of the most beautiful women on the planet so why on earth would he want to?

The point is, he is a single guy in his mid-20s doing as single guys in their mid-20s do. Would I do the same? If I was single and the context was right, quite probably. If the area had the reasonable expectation of privacy and the girls were happy enough with the situation then why not? It only becomes inappropriate if any of the parties get uncomfortable or it is likely to cause offence.

Yes, this behaviour may cause offence to observers and commentators however ultimately, it is not really any of their business. Yes, he is part of a public institution and has a role within it. However, when he has been operating within the context of being a member of the Royal family, he has conducted himself impeccably by showing a great degree of humility and humanity while still having respect for the institution. Being part of the public institution does have a degree of public ownership associated but it would be a mistake to think that the public own every aspect of Prince Harry's life. This is simply not the case, nor should it be. So let the guy have some fun. It's not doing anyone any harm.

Or could it be that those that are outraged are simply jealous?

JR

Tea

Tea. The fuel of the British Empire. The cure of all ills. The ultimate social lubricant and probably the most popular drink in the U.K.

Did you know that tea was apparently one of the greatest catalysts to entertaining others in one's own home? A tea fact that I saw on some obscure documentary (if you really want a reference, leave a comment and I will look it up - or you could just take my word for it!).

Another tea fact I read in a scientific paper during my final year at school when I was investigating caffeine contents of drinks: tea actually contains more caffeine than coffee however it also has other compounds in it which have a soporific effect meaning the net stimulation is actually less.

Tea was also a great source of torment for Arthur Dent in Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy. After having his planet blown up and while suffering a slight hangover, Dent seeks a cup of tea to steady his nerves only to discover that Earth is apparently the only place in the universe where it can be obtained!

It may surprise you to hear that James Bond, an individual generally thought of as British to the core hated tea. He described it as, "mud" in Goldfinger.

I have a slightly odd relationship with tea. I essentially trained myself to like it when I was about 17. There is method to my madness. I love coffee. The good stuff. Not instant and certainly not the pseudo-italian bollocks peddled on most high streets. Good filter coffee ideally of South American extraction. My current coffee of choice is the Asda extra special Brazilian one. It offers a full, rich flavour, a lovely aroma and a pleasant after-taste. It is also reasonably priced so my bank balance can cope with the volumes I consume! Ideally I would be on a diet of freshly-ground Jamaican Blue Mountain but given it's slightly more expensive than similar volumes of diamonds (OK I may be exaggerating slightly but you get the idea) that's not going to happen any time soon. My point is, I trained myself to like tea so I could partake in the social ritual of consuming brewed beverages without having to risk bad coffee.

It started off well. Teabag. Milk. Hot water. Sorted! No fuss, no drama. Then a bit of sugar went in if I was particularly tired or hungover. Again still no huge deal. However then I made my fatal mistake. I let my natural curiosity for everything consumable take over. I'm going to blow my own trumpet a bit here and say I think I have quite a good palette. I enjoy comparing flavours and discovering the subtle differences. My varyingly successful cooking and cocktail making experiments have generally shown I can just about understand and mix flavours. So why did I assume I could turn off this side of my personality when it came to tea?

I was of course aware that there were many types of tea but I thought if I stuck ruthlessly to the teabag, milk, water, occasional sugar formula I would be fine. No such luck I'm afraid. My first foray was green tea (on the advice was a good hangover cure). I can't say it overly impressed me but it did taste totally different from the stuff I had been drinking thus far. That started the experimentation.

From there I discovered most herbal teas smelled of cheap pout pourri and tasted of hot water (apart from camomile tea which tastes, in my opinion, of stagnant bathwater), Earl Grey has a pleasant citrus edge to is, Assam is pleasingly rich and Lapsang suchon (I think that's how it's spelled) has a lovely smoky quality to it. I have even had something called gunpowder tea (well wouldn't you) which was served as a pellet that vigorously and rapidly expanded and broke apart when hot water was added. The flavour had a spicy edge to it but was nothing special, the main effect was visual.

I still think the specialist tea cafes populated and staffed almost exclusively by pretty posh girls are unbearably pretentious but I do rather enjoy finding market stalls selling speciality teas, not to mention treating my mind in Fortnum and Mason.

Has the interest stopped with amassing a collection of tea bags? Of course not. I enjoy novelty in process (hence fountain pens and shaving brushes) so the opportunity to get more things to fiddle with and generally add complexity and detail to an event was too good to miss. A teapot and tea strainer have now been purchased and I'm experimenting with ways to make the perfect cup.

So much for learning to like it as a simple option!

I will leave you with a story from when I was a student and working residentially with kids in my summer holidays. I was on bedtime duty so was marching round trying to make sure the little darlings were tucked up (alone) in bed. Plaintive cries with various excuses to stay up just a little bit later were ignored, games consoles confiscated and lights turned out (I had yet to deploy my ultimate sanction of a run at 6 the following morning for those that just wouldn't cooperate but I was coming close). For moral support I had a large mug of sweet tea (it was huge, much bigger and it would have needed a lifeguard to supervise it). The beer was to come later once this lot were all asleep. At one point I encountered a group of girls ambling back from the bathroom at an excessively slow pace, brandishing toothbrushes and generally daring me to challenge them. As they were decent kids and I knew that once they were in their room they would be quiet and fall asleep quite quickly, I decided to ignore them. I also thought that a challenge would prolong the entire process and delay me getting into the staff room and getting my feet up. As they were passing, one of the more precocious ones reached out and deftly plucked the cup from my hand. No doubt thinking that the mug contained some sort of exotic booze she too a huge swig. Her expression of pure disappointment when she found out it was simply a mug of Tetley's finest will stay with me for a long time!

JR 

Three Little Words

Today my girlfriend said three magic little words to me. I swelled with joy and pride when I heard them. Even now, hours later, I am still glowing. Despite my lack of written evidence for the statement, it made my day.

We were having an enthusiastic discussion. The point isn't relevant to this anecdote, suffice to say that we were or polar opposing viewpoints. Naturally I was doing my best to educate her and alert her to the correct point of opinion however she was not at all receptive. I was drawing on all my advocacy training and skills. Point after point was being made and, gently, driven home.

Just as I was planning a series of closed questions (ones that can only be answered "yes" or "no") to bring her round when it happened. She stopped. The silence was deafening. She turns to look at me. Stares into my eyes with an inscrutable expression and says...

"You were right!"

JR

Disability

Filling out endless job applications recently has necessitated me filling out endless "equal opportunities" forms too. One of the questions that is always asked is a variation of, "Do you have a disability?"

I have always find this a difficult question. Strictly speaking, I have been diagnosed with a disability. When I was much younger I was diagnosed with a condition called dyspraxia. Put simply, it is the co-ordination and spatial awareness form of dyslexia. The biggest way this manifests itself with me is my handwriting. With years of effort it is now bad, it was much, much worse. Now this might not seem like a big deal especially as most things these days are done on computer but I happen to be one of the people that prefer handwriting where possible. Dyspraxia also means my balance is fairly shocking at times, riding a bike is a huge challenge, walking in a straight line is an issue and I am extremely clumsy. I also have strong dyslexic tendencies; Winnie the Pooh put it perfectly when he said, "I have good spelling but it wobbles... and sometimes the letters get in the wrong places!" In addition to this, I have difficulty perceiving numbers, especially after a decimal point for some reason. This means that, at times, I physically will not be able to differentiate between 5.41 and 5.14. It can look like slapdash carelessness but it's really not.

So where is this point going? Well the questions on application forms is often phrased, "Do you consider yourself disabled?" In short, I'm not really sure I do. I have never not been able to do anything I wanted to do and that's not for modesty of ambition. I have had the good fortune, so far, to lead a varied and active life and do all manner of amazing things from renovating a primary school in Kenya to skiing in France via a moderately successful rowing career and getting a decent tune out of a couple of musical instruments. Admittedly I have never truly excelled in any of these disciplines (or others) but I have always been extremely competent to good. The lack of excellence could be in part due to the dyspraxia but more likely, because I was content at the level I had reached. There have been some things I have been memorably awful at over the years; football is an obvious an example. It would be easy to say that my impaired spatial awareness and depth perception meant I struggled to kick the ball. It could be that I am just rubbish at football - who said I had to be good at everything after all.

Anyway, all this means that I don't really consider myself disabled. Disability to me means a genuine inability to do something; to struggle with everyday activities. I really don't (well buttons and bootlaces are a pain but really... no big deal in the long run). In short, I have never not been dyspraxic so I don't know what "normal" feels like. My capabilities are normal for me. This is backed up by a lot of people with extensive experience in the field of learning impairments not being able to tell I'm dyspraxic until it's pointed out.

Now before I get too self-congratulatory, I can't take all the credit myself. For about three years before I hit ten I received weekly occupational therapy (I had the good fortune to be diagnosed young). In addition to this, I took up rowing and swimming at about the same time which built on the effect of the therapy. I also received truly magnificent support from my teachers at school, the learning support department and most importantly of all, my family. They all got the balance of weighing any impairments I suffered against pushing me to the limits of my performance perfect. My parents and teachers worked brilliantly to combine discreet intervention with support and encouragement and gave me the confidence to push myself and believe I could achieve what I wanted to. This continued throughout University and (to a lesser extent) law school where I got discreet support. Latterly, most of this took the form of extra time in exams and permission to write any extended answers on a computer. I was offered other assistance but I felt that this was all I really needed.

Now here's the conflict; do I mention the dyspraxia on job application forms despite the fact that it doesn't really show unless you're looking for it? Or is doing so a bit disingenuous and a bit of a piss-take for those that have more severe disabilities?

I do generally declare it. Although I can't necessarily put my finger on how it affects me, I indisputably - even now - fulfil the criteria for diagnosis. I can confidently say that without the special assistance I received early in my life, I would almost certainly not have achieved what I have done. Furthermore, the early intervention is probably the reason the day-to-day effects are so minimal today. To ignore this would be dishonest towards future employers who deserve to know the whole truth. It also, in my opinion undermines the hard-work I actively (and passively) put in as a kid. I will however highlight to any employers at interview (if I ever get there) that the daily effects are minimal and that writing would be the only major issue that they should be aware of (and even then, it has come on leaps and bounds and, to an extent, still is).

What about the detractors that say the dis...exias are recent conditions which afflict principally middle-class kids and (at their most cynical) say that they are little more than a ploy to cover the fact that little Tarquin is a bit thick or a ruse to get Arabella extra time in their exams? Hmmmmm. I can sort-of sympathise with this in that the conditions have only really come to light in the last twenty or so years. However conditions must be elucidated at some point and educational knowledge and teaching practices do change. If this wasn't the case then no new diseases would ever be identified making treatment impossible and left-handers would still be forced to switch sides. So yes, these conditions might not have been identified and diagnosed in your day, that didn't mean they didn't exist and shouldn't be taken seriously now.

What about the ploy aspect? Perhaps. I don't honestly know. Like anything which may offer special treatment in exams, I suspect some unscrupulous people will exploit it in a similar way to students faking narcolepsy to get prescribed medafonil allowing them to stay up all night several nights running. Do I think it's widespread? My innate belief in human good makes me hope not. Also, I can imagine that trying to coach a child into faking symptoms would be quite a struggle even to the pushiest parents. What I hope we are seeing is a general raising of awareness and acceptance of these conditions. Not only does this mean that kids will get diagnosed and treated appropriately, but hopefully general raised levels of awareness will mean that later in life, they will not suffer either.

Food for thought certainly.

JR

British Weather

So apparently Jeremy Clarkson has been let loose on the headlines about the British weather for the weekend. Apparently we are set to have the hottest weekend... ... ... ... in the world! Well something like that anyway.

We Brits have a strange relationship with the weather. It's strange enough that I'm sitting here, in my free time, writing about it. There's nothing some Brits love more than a good old moan about the weather. Most of the time, the moaning is directed towards how crap it is: too rainy, too cold, too windy, too present generally.

Not so this weekend. Over Saturday and Sunday we are set to have a couple of the hottest days this year and since there seems to be a trend for things being the biggest, hottest, coldest, wettest since records began this weekend could be the hottest weekend... EVER! Brilliant. Across the nation, millions of Brits will charge out of their houses across the land bedecked in garishly coloured outfits and make their way quickly... to the nearest shade... and then spend the day complaining loudly about it being too bloody hot! They will sit there, fanning themselves with newspapers and sighing loudly and pointedly.

Of course there is another breed of Brits. Ones that are the polar opposite of the ones just described. This strain of Brits will remove as much clothing as physically possible without being arrested for public indecency then lie motionless in the sunniest spot possible to achieve the ultimate goal... getting a tan. Except by getting a tan they will invariably end up sweating like a grand national winner and resembling a poached lobster covered in some nice garlic butter. Now don't get me wrong, some of them look rather good while working on their poached lobster impression. The public indecency occurs by not removing the last few scraps of clothing. Most however don't fit into this category which does somewhat take the edge off.

Naturally, being British, sunny weather must (by law) be paired with copious amounts of cold alcoholic beverages. White wine and lager should hit the spot rather nicely. Or Pimms if you're feeling sophisticated. Then again, cold weather is also a precursor to drinkies; some warmed, others warming but let's gloss over that. Consumption of beer, wine, pimms, etc will of course easily replace the fluid sweated off complaining about the head/grilling and leave you feeling refreshed, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and raring to go. Oh wait... maybe not. No. It will leave you dehydrated, grouchy, just as sweaty and ready to go to bed despite it only being six o' clock.

But no. It's hot. The law states that when it's hot, barbecues MUST be had. Look it up if you don't believe me. I think it's in the Hot Weather Act 1982. For some reason hot weather equates to al fresco cooking of meat. Of course the meat will either be grossly underdone or hideously over done, sometimes simultaneously, and the flavour of the delicately constructed marinades you made earlier (when it was cold) will be neatly masked by the charcoal coating the food. And of course it being a barbecue it must be coupled with copious amounts of more beer (which of course you will drink more quickly because you're feeling dehydrated from the previous beer... do keep up) leaving you feeling even more sleepy and grouchy then eventually a bit cold and miserable because it's about 11 at night and you forgot to bring long-trousers and a jumper.

So what will I be doing this weekend? I will be walking dogs both in the sun and shade... probably in shorts and flipflops. I will be admiring the beautiful countryside and enjoying soaking up some rays (whist no doubt pondering if it's a little on the warm side... strictly for the dogs' sake you understand). I will probably then head to the pub for a pint and some lunch. I don't have access to a garden so the barbecue might have to wait unless friends invite me to one or the pub up the road has one in which case I will consume my bodyweight in meat and beer. And I will be enjoying every second of it. Well why not?

If you're around this weekend, enjoy it. Especially as you don't know when the next one will be!

JR

Right to Die

On Thursday the High Court of England and Wales rejected a request by Tony Nicklinson, a sufferer of locked in syndrome, to grant medical professionals immunity from prosecution should they assist him to die. According to the suicide act, it is illegal to aid, abet, procure or assist the suicide of another. Breach of this act will be treated on a par with attempted murder. Due to the severity of Mr Nicklinson's condition, he would be unable to self-administer the substances necessary to bring about his death and they would therefore need to be administered by someone else. Despite the fact that this would be done for benevolent reasons it would, as the law stands, leave the individual administering the drugs open to a charge of murder.

Despite previous court judgements and statements from the director of public prosecution on the subject of assisted suicide, the court decided they did not have the authority to grant immunity. In their judgement, the judges stated that they felt that allowing immunity would exceed their authority. Furthermore, they suggest that such decisions should be taken by Parliament alone.

I have written before on the subject of assisted dying. In the post I was broadly in favour of the concept. I still am. I believe the right to a private and family life should extend to cover the right to have control over one's death. I also feel fairly sure that if I were in a similar condition, I too would want my life to end. That's not to say that I think life with severe disability is not worth living, I'm just not sure I would want to.

However, despite all this, I think the court made the correct decision. The major difference between this case and the cases I wrote about in my previous case is that the individuals in the other cases were capable of killing themselves (albeit with heavy assistance). Here, the individual would need to be killed by another person. Ignoring academic legal arguments for the time being, this is a huge ask.

Colonel Tim Collins in his eve of battle speech correctly said, "It is a big step to take another human life. It is not to be done lightly. I know of men who have taken life needlessly in other conflicts, I can assure you they live with the Mark of Cain upon them.". These words were addressed to the soldiers in his command before they went into battle in the second Iraq war. They are equally true of asking a civilian to take a life in this context.

Taking a life is a huge step. People can train for it and practice all they like however until one does it for real, one has no idea how one will react or even if one will be able to carry out the act. Often it is those who feel most prepared who react worst. Despite being trained to kill and doing so in battle to defend themselves and their comrades, many soldiers who kill in battle go on to suffer terrible mental consequences. Recently a  father  who killed a burglar while defending his family and his home was acquitted of murder. Despite this, and the fact that the incident was over a year ago, he is still suffering profound psychological consequences and is on medication to try and mitigate their effects.

In this case, a doctor is being asked to knowingly and intentionally kill somebody in a controlled manner. Possibly someone they have grown to know and like. Even though any doctor that did so would be secure in the knowledge that they were following their patient's wishes and ending their suffering it would be a huge psychological burden to bear and one I think few could bear well. Despite my views on ending suffering I'm almost certain I would be unable to do such an act, even if I knew I was following the patient's wishes and acting with the full backing of the law. Is it really fair to ask an individual to take that kind of risk with their psychological well-being?

Even if immunity was granted by the court, I'm not convinced medicine as a whole is mature enough to cope with the concept of assisting death in this manner. Most doctors I know still see their job as a relentless crusade against death, seen as the ultimate failure, rather than the facilitators of quality of life. Admittedly most of the time both can be had but there are increasing circumstances where a choice needs to be made and that choice should be made by the patient. In order for assisting death to become acceptable to the medical profession as a whole, they need to start seeing death as an inevitable consequence of life (and junior doctors) rather than a failing that needs to be delayed almost at all costs.

Even if this mentality was developed, we as a society (as well as the individuals involved) would still be left with the knowledge that they had, or were about to, take a life. The only practical solution I can see at the moment is using a system like the Americans use for executions whereby two sets of syringes are loaded in to an auto-injector.One set contains the lethal chemicals, the other has some placebos. Two doctors simultaneously press the activation buttons triggering both sets of syringes to be injected at once therefore neither know who has administered the fatal cocktail. Although far from fail-safe it would at least, hopefully, ease the consciences of those administering the medicines.

Hopefully a solution satisfactory outcome for all parties will be found soon. 

JR

Technology, a force for change but not necessarily good.

Having grown up in the '90s, I can say fairly confidently that technology has had a profound effect on life today. I remember my first tentative forays into the internet when I was around 15. I remember computers in school still being a novelty rather than a ubiquitous presence and mobile phones being an interesting novelty which drew a lot of attention.

Given what we take for granted these days it's strange to think that if you told my younger self that in a few years I would have a device that held all the music I could ever want to own with space left over and it would be small enough to cut coke with, I would probably have told you to go and sit down in a quiet room somewhere and compose yourself. Laptops? They were the stuff of films (on VHS mind). Watch the Bond films and it's astounding to see how many of the then ground-breaking gadgets have now become household items, even from the more recent films.

Undoubtedly a lot of this technological development is useful but by no means all of it and certainly not without a darker side. (At this point I will say, if you're expecting a paranoid rant about governments listening into our phone-calls then feel free to look elsewhere. This is strictly mundane).

Let's start with personal music devices. Good idea in theory but do they really need to be played quite so loudly. Apart from it doing lasting and serious damage to the listener's ears, it's profoundly antisocial. It's kind of the individuals to try and share their music but really; thanks but no thanks. The even more irritating trend nowadays is for the "music" to be played without the aid of headphones meaning nobody has any respite from whichever "musician" is chewing the microphone. And before you ask, no I'm not one of the people that does anything; I'm far too British and it's not worth the abuse.

A particular bugbear of mine however is smartphones. Mobile phones have been pretty much ubiquitous since the late '90s however, smartphones seem to bring out the absolute worst in phone-related antisocial behaviour. Let's start with loud conversations on public transport. Are they really necessary? Really? Or does it just make you feel important when you're talking on your phone on the train? If you really need to let someone know you're on your way, why not call them from your original point of departure. And as for calling just for a chat... it's nice that your new boy/girlfriend is the best thing since sliced bread and is an animal between the sheets but I'd rather not hear about it thanks very much. How about sending a text? But if you do, please turn it on to vibrate. Nobody needs to hear your ringtone. 

All this is just a precursor to my main problem with smartphones which is that people give them a disproportionate sense of priority. There are some people I know (who are otherwise polite, sensible, mature individuals) who will not hesitate to reach for their smartphone the second it makes it's presence felt be it call, text, email, twitter, etc. They pay no heed to their surroundings or the appropriateness of doing so, the phone MUST be acknowledged. What's even worse is that once the original message has been dealt with (for delaying a reply is of course impossible) they think nothing of checking their other messages; possibly facebook too... and then updating twitter. All the while, the person with them is sitting around like a gooseberry waiting for them to finish. Naturally, whatever conversation has been going on is effectively over. What's even worse is the smartphone sitting next to the cutlery in a restaurant and the constant "discreet" checking of it throughout the meal. To me this is the height of rudeness. People have made an effort to meet, go somewhere and do something. Please, PLEASE have the courtesy to give them your full attention. This sentiment is often countered with a plaintive, "but it might be important." Yes. Indeed it might be, but chances are it's probably not. And even if it is, what are the odds of you being able to do anything meaningful about it instantly? Fairly slim I would guess. And if it really is THAT important, they can leave a message or call back.

The phrase, "I have an app for that" reliably makes my heart sink. In my view it sums up the whole mentality that smartphones have created which is killing off common sense and general knowledge. I will state at this point that my general knowledge is distinctly average in terms of both volume and content however there is enough there to make interesting conversation and be able to debate a point. However such debate is slaughtered when, as soon as a question is posed, a smartphone is produced to give a definitive answer. Further more, this instant availability of information means a lot of people I know immediately forget what they have found out rather than making the effort to remember it. This, in my opinion, is not only desperately sad but also could have devastating consequences for long term cognitive health (pretty much every study going shows that using one's brain and intellectual capacity helps ward off conditions such as Alzheimer's and promotes general well being later in life). 

As for common sense, it's illustrated rather neatly by a little story about two people: let's call them JR (a dashingly handsome and witty chap) and JRGF (the other half of the aforementioned). One day they both departed from the same dwelling in the same city for the day. JRGF merrily strolled out in a tshirt because her app told her the weather was going to be good that day; JR however looked out the window, saw that the clouds were looking a bit threatening and decided to take an umbrella. JRGF got soaked, JR however stayed nice and dry. That's one example, I'm sure anyone reading this will have their own. It just seems people are losing the ability to observe and deduce for themselves and instead MUST be told by an app (GPS is guilty of this for drivers too, so much so that the UK driving test has now had a section added whereby the individuals being tested must prove their ability to read a map, navigate using road-signs and observe the road to work out which lane etc they should be in).

Lastly, I genuinely believe smartphones have played a part in reducing people's attention span and patience and indirectly waste a lot of time. For some reason, ever time there is a slight lull in activity,  some people see that as a cue to pull out the smartphone and start playing some inane game or similar activity. Apart from being deeply antisocial it means that activity is unlikely to start until whatever game etc has been finished. So what? you say. Well let me give you examples. Two people are heading out, one is ready to go so starts playing a game rather than waiting patiently for the 30 seconds it takes the other to put their shoes on. The other person is now ready but has to wait for a minute or so while the game is finished. Sound familiar? How about another one: finishing touches are being put on a meal however, instead of putting out some cutlery or organising drinks, a smartphone is produced leaving the person plating up to also set the table, sort drinks then still wait for the game to be finished before starting to eat. What really angers me is the unbelievable arrogance that it's perfectly acceptable to waste other people's time but having to be unoccupied ones self for a short period is unthinkable.

I will leave you with a couple of parting observations: one an ex-girlfriend who was a huge fan of films. When we initially got together, she would barely hold my hand when watching a film so she could concentrate on it (a little far but just about fair enough). Fast forward about 18 months and a smartphone was procured. A few weeks later she complained about watching a foreign language film with subtitles because it meant she could use her smartphone at the same time.

Secondly, there was an article about how to passively-aggressively tackle smartphone addicts in a national newspaper recently. I read the comments section and was thoroughly amused by one person who said, "I looked into getting a smartphone but I was worried I would break it if I turned it off!" Very astute!

If I sound bitter, it's probably because I am. I know I'm fairly old fashioned in my outlook on life (some may say my views are a bit of an anachronism) and perhaps life and etiquette have moved on to make the behaviour above perfectly socially acceptable; however I still think there is a place for face to face interaction. While this is so, I still think it rude to interrupt such interaction on a  whim.

JR

Respect for "Diversity"

So here's an interesting conundrum. I am considering applying for a voluntary activity. Part of the recruitment process is a competency interview which asks for examples of various competencies such as teamwork, reacting under pressure and communication skills. The application process also demands I show two examples of respect for diversity. Reading between the lines it means, "prove you're not racist!".

Firstly; what happened to the presumption of innocence. Last I heard, it still was in force. Surely it should be assumed that I'm not racist until proved otherwise.

Secondly; what. The. Fuck!

Seriously!?

How is one supposed to prove this in an interview situation (with two examples)? In my book everyone get's treated with courtesy and respect until they do something to lose that privilege. If I think you're a twat it's because you're a class a twat, not because you're black/gay/follow a particular religion, etc. Similarly my black/gay/religious mates are my mates because they're nice people and I enjoy their company. That's it. Furthermore, blustering, "some of my best friends are..." is frankly beneath me.

All of this aside, it's rather patronising to assume I can't keep my mouth shut. Yes I have beliefs and opinions. Shock. Horror. Some might not comply entirely in line with what is thought to be politically correct. However, I'm grown up to realise that (if I get accepted) the undertaking of this voluntary activity is not the forum to air these views. We all adapt our behaviour all the time to suit the circumstances so why, suddenly, is it necessary to prove it.

It has got me trying to think up some examples however. One that springs to mind is providing tutoring to kids with learning difficulties at school. That only shows I'm not disabledist (??) however.

I could say that I am currently working in a multi-ethnic workplace at the moment and everybody gets treated the same. They don't however. Some are twats and get treated as such, others I have more of a rapport with and so get treated more informally.

I could say that I took my boots off when going into a mosque when I was working as a delivery driver. That was partially due to the fact it was a mosque; mainly it was because my boots were muddy.

When I worked at a law firm, all the clients I encountered were treated with respect. Is that professionalism or respect for diversity.

As you can guess, I'm now scraping the barrel a bit. I could cite working as an English teacher for foreign kids I displayed cultural sensitivity. Despite the fact that it was a very informal environment, I respected the need for some nationalities to address me as, "Teacher" since calling a teacher by their first name was unheard of. Equally I explained that holding up the index and middle finger with the palm facing towards one's body is regarded as extremely rude in the UK.

Still struggling a bit though. I could bring up that I discuss national cuisine in great detail with those of different backgrounds (and eat as much local stuff as possible when abroad). Is this respect for diversity? Possibly. I just like eating tasty food.

The moral of the story is, I think I do have rather a lot of respect for diversity. Trouble is, it is almost entirely passive. It's not something I do, it's something that happens in my general course of conduct. To be honest, I think that's far better than having to consciously think about it.

Only one example springs to mind of conscious respect for diversity. That occurs when I go overseas. Despite not being a natural linguist, I always make a big effort to learn a few words of the local language. This will often not extend beyond, "please", "thank you" and "may I have a beer" before lapsing into English (well everybody does speak it) but I hope the effort counts for something. I think it's fairly basic respect to try and integrate into a culture where I am a guest.

The question is; is that enough?

JR

p.s. I decided not to go for the position. There were more pros than cons in my opinion. The bullshit questions did a lot to put me off but it wasn't the only reason.

Rubberneckers

dThis post is prompted by reading this article on another blog. In summary, traffic on a major motorway slowed to an almost standstill due to an accident. Except the traffic in question was going in the opposite direction and the slowing down was caused by people trying to photograph/film the incident. Those that have been identified have been sent warning notices by the police.

I think this is shocking. Firstly (and less seriously out of my two points) people are escaping punishment for serious traffic offences. Police (correctly) usually take a pretty dim view of using a mobile phone while driving. I realise to track down and ticket all the offenders would be a big administrative headache but I still think it's worth doing. For some reason, lots of people I know seem to think this bit of legislation applies to everyone but them (go on, admit it. You've had a sneaky look at your phone when caught in traffic or something similar) so maybe it's time to show them that it's for everyone. And that's overlooking the potential offences of dangerous driving or driving without due care and attention. Yes, the vehicles might be going slowly but there's still potential for a lot of damage to people and property.

Secondly, I can't stand this voyeurism. Yes, seeing all the flashing lights and brightly coloured vehicles is exciting and arouses most people's curiosity however that doesn't change the fact that they are there because other people may be seriously injured, dead or dying. The suffering of others is NOT a spectator sport. Keep going, there is something to see but ultimately; it's none of your fucking business so jog on. How would you like it if you had bits of yourself spread all over a road surface and people stopped to reel off a few happy snaps. Yeah, doesn't sound too good now. The obvious exception is if you're one of the first on scene and you're actually doing something useful. For the record, that doesn't always mean wading in and doing what you saw on Casualty at the weekend. Securing the scene is an incredibly useful contribution and one often overlooked. If in doubt, make sure there is a car further up the road blocking the carriageway (with someone to explain to other motorists what is happening if it's safe to do so), make sure the ignition is turned off, any fluid spillage is identified and that everyone who doesn't absolutely have to be is a decent distance away (especially anybody on their phones). Do that and you're significantly reducing the chance of further injury to any casualties and preventing anyone else from getting injured. Not terribly dramatic but very worth while.

I encounter a lot of it when out on duty with St. John. I remember once having a conversation into my radio only to have some random come up to me and ask what was happening. Naturally she was met with a polite, if intentionally obstructive response ("Nothing to worry about" I think were my exact words but don't quote me). I really wanted to tell her to get her nose out but that was a bit far for a first response (especially as the conversation in question was updating a colleague on a concession that was giving out free ice-cold cans of juice to us and the police on a blisteringly hot day). For some reason, people think nothing of stopping for a good old stare at our mobile hospitals and don't take too kindly to being asked to move on (or another favourite trick of me standing in front of their cameras and obstructing them until they move). Being treated on the roadside or in a tent is bad enough: please don't make it worse by making it into street theatre.

Sadly, it's not just bystanders that are guilty of this. I have been treating people who are fairly unwell or recovering from being in a pretty poor state who think nothing of copping an eye-full of the person next to them being treated. I usually take this as a sign that they no longer need to be in the majors tent and shift them outside. Fortunately, if they ask what's wrong I have the rather neat response, "I have no idea, you're my priority at the moment but I can assure you they're being well looked after." Therefore telling them absolutely nothing while saying a lot.

I know our mobile treatment centres aren't ideally suited to privacy. Their purpose is to treat and discharge minor injuries and stabilise major ones as much as possible while procuring further treatment. That doesn't mean to say that we shouldn't do our utmost to handle everyone with as much dignity as possible. They are people at the end of the day and they didn't set out to need our services.

The worst bit is, most of the time when people stop and stare, it's not out of a sense of concern for the victim(s), it's to gratify their desire to be disgusted. To point and go "Yuck!" or something similar. It's the same instinct that makes people tune into ghastly programmes like 'Embarrassing Teenage Pimples' or 'Genitals from Hell' (fictional names to protect the guilty). It may all be dressed up as promoting health education but is it really? Or is it a freak show where people are entertained and shocked by the ailments of others? If you really want to increase your knowledge and awareness of health complaints there are plenty good books out there which would provide a good start. I'm not wholly opposed to the idea of using television as a medium for educating people about various health issues. It's certainly a good way of doing so passively given picking up a book can be a bit of a daunting task. However my problem is with the sensationalist way it's done, usually with the "patient" looking uncomfortable, embarrassed and humiliated with loud pop music and a shouty voice-over in the background.

Right, that's enough of a rant.

JR

Watches

Today's (fairly geeky) post is on another obscure passion of mine; watches. I have loved them ever since I can remember - and probably even before that! I'm not sure where this love came from; the idea of telling the time itself doesn't particularly excite me (although tardiness does get on my nerves). Latterly, I have come to believe that they are a reflection of someone's personality. Possibly because watches are so intricate and variable, I do genuinely think that one's watch choice sends out a lot of signals; conscious and otherwise. However this doesn't explain how I felt when I was a kid. Realistically, it was probably the feeling of being "grown up" whatever that means. I just know that from the moment I strapped on my first watch, I have pretty much always worn one. Now I feel distinctly naked if I go out the house without wearing one and have been known to travel considerable distances to return to the house to pick it up. Sad I know but as foibles go, it could be worse.

My pride and joy is my Omega Seamaser. It was a 21st birthday present from my parents and I will treasure it always. Getting it came as a bit of a surprise. When they asked what I would like, I said the Omega with a view to being bartered down, probably to a Tag or a high-end Seiko or Tissort. When they said yes immediately, I almost fell off my chair. I have been in love this watch for nearly twelve years. To this day, I can't remember where I first saw it (ironically it wasn't until a few years later that it appeared in Goldeneye but it being a Bond watch certainly did nothing to put me off) but I liked it instantly. The model I have is the co-axial movement; in simple terms, this is an upgraded automatic movement which needs servicing less frequently and is more reliable. This means that the hand "sweeps" round rather than "ticks" (which is how a quartz watch moves). Generally speaking, the automatic is regarded as superior, not only for it's time-keeping ability but also because of the intricacy and skill required to make it.

I have always been a fun of chunky diving watches and this, to me, is the epitome. Firstly, it looks fabulous. It goes perfectly with everything from my usual uniform of jeans and a shirt to my kilt and black tie (probably why Bond wears one!). It also feels rugged and well-made which is good since I wear it on a daily basis and I have all the grace of a drunken elephant. It also has some fun "toys" which adapt it for professional diving and will certainly never be used in 95% of cases. The strap has an extendible section to allow it to fit over diving suits and a valve on the face to allow it to vent helium when coming up from a long dive. See what I mean? Totally useless but cool none the less.

However it's not just high-end watches I love. The other watch I have with me is an Oakley D1. This was a present for passing my standard grates and coincided with a time where I was doing a lot of sport so a digital watch was an advantage. These days I wear it on the rare occasions that I do sport but also in situations where there is a risk that my good watch could get damaged - dog walking is a good example. It is also excellent on duty with St. John Ambulance because the paperwork dictates precise timings are recorded for all patients. A quick glance takes the guesswork out of reading the time and speeds things up a bit. The back-light is handy for night and theatre duties too. In addition to this, the timing functions are useful for timing fits, rest breaks and length of time we have been treating (generally on a mobile hospital, if a patient is with us for more than half an hour, they go to hospital). One feature I really like is that, unlike most digital watches,  where the numbers are black and the background is white, the numbers are white and the background is black. This has absolutely no practical value but looks seriously cool (in my opinion).

In between having the Oakley and the Omega I bought a beautiful DKNY stainless steel watch. I have no idea what the model is and, to be honest, there's nothing particularly outstanding about the features but it is extremely elegant. It was bought about 18 months before I went to Uni. when I was making a conscious effort to 'smarten up' a bit for potential summer jobs and Uni. interviews (a consequence of the school I went to having a dress code rather than a uniform meant that scruffy was the norm so long as it was black and scruffy). I haven't worn this watch for about five years (the last time was the day before my 21st birthday surprisingly) but my Omega is due for a service soon so I think I will dig it out again to wear while the Omega is in.

A common theme amongst these watches is the integrity of the straps. Before them, I used to go through a watch strap every 6 months or so because they just kept breaking. All of the above are on their original straps and show no sign of changing that. It just goes to show, spending a wee bit of money on quality (well for the latter two and a lot of money on the first) really does pay off. The Oakley was a hundred quid on the nose and the DKNY was about 70 so a bit of cash but not cripplingly expensive yet the build quality was superb.

At the same time I got the DKNY I bought a fantastic Lorus for rough and tumble stuff (I was going through selection for a charity expedition to Africa at the time so lots of out-door team building stuff). I bought it mainly because it was cheap (about 25 quid if I recall) and waterproof but it turned out to be fantastic. It certainly withstood all the knocks it got during selection, the subsequent trip to Africa and numerous other adventures. Two things stand out in particular; first the new luminescence  function on the face was spectacular. It glowed really brightly (unlike some - even the Omega can be a bit dull) and for a long time so telling the time at night was easy. It was also possible to see the second hand without too much effort. The luminous paint was so good that even once it had faded, a burst of light of only a few seconds from a torch was enough to make the watch glow for quite a while afterwards. The second excellent feature was the strap; a canvass pseudo-military strap which not only looked good and was extremely durable but was extremely comfortable to wear for long periods and in hot conditions. Bluntly, the fabric conducted sweat away from my wrist so that, by the end of the day, it wasn't a soggy, smelly mess.

Before the Oakley were a couple of semi-smart lorus watches. Nothing special but did the job perfectly for what they were. The straps just had a tendency to break at awkward moments meaning  the watch had a habit of dropping off my wrist and smashing on the pavement. Before those were a succession of "surfer" type watches with lurid colours and edgy designs. These were bought principally because they were waterproof (I've always loved anything that could end up in getting wet) and had rotating bezels (the in thing at the time). A common failing was that the glue in the straps often melted in temperatures that went anything above tepid. A bit awkward if you're in a swimming pool. Before those were a few digital watches (hey it was the 90s, they were cool). Vital criteria for these were that they had more functions than the watch of the person sitting next to you, a selection of different beeps that could be timed to go off at regular intervals (staggered with the rest of the class) to annoy the teacher and were waterproof.

My first ever watch was a wind-up timex, a present from my father when we were learning to tell the time aged around 6. It had a red strap and an easy to read face. I still have it and it still works perfectly although the strap doesn't quite fit around my wrist any more.

There we go, a history of my left wrist in a few short paragraphs. But what of the future. As I say the Omega will stay with me for life. It's everything I could want and more. However if I won the lottery, I think a Rolex Seadweller would be added to the collection. I did look at Rolexes for my 21st but the subjective and objective part of me both went for the Omega. That isn't to say I don't think Rolex make amazing watches. Even the name has a slight frission to it (in the same way as Ferrari). They were the original and still big hitters in the watch world. Let's face it, you see someone wearing a Rolex and you think "Yeah, they've made it".

Again in the 'money no object' category, I would amass all the Bond collectors edition Omegas. Ever since a Seamaster first appeared in Goldeneye, Omega have released a commemorative Seamaster with some discreet Bond markings on it (although sadly no lasers or remote mines). My parent's did offer to get me one of these for my 21st but a) I wanted the watch because it was a brilliant watch not a Bond reference and b) it is a wee bit tacky for everyday wear. However, as a collector's item... bring it on. I would also like to pick up an Omega Speedmaster since, to this day, it remains the only watch tested and permitted for use in spacewalks by NASA (not that I'm going on a space walk any time soon, but hey...).

Since advising a friend of buying a pre-owned high-end watch (usually good for getting something excellent at a bit of a discount) I have become aware of the availability and beauty of antique wristwatches and again, if my numbers came up, they would be something I would think about investing in. If nothing else, unlike new watches, a well chosen antique watch will increase in value over the years.

Back in the real world, the only watch I am ever likely to buy again would be another rough and tumble watch. For that I either have my eye on a Casio G-Shock which seems to be universally endorsed by anybody who has ever owned one as rugged, reliable and not too expensive or a CWC watch. These are the watches that are issued to the army for operations and from what I've heard, they're fantastic. I know a few people who will testify to their durability, reliability and comfort. Again, like the G-Shock it's priced between about £70 and £100 so not cheap but not eye-watering especially when you think it will have a life-span of tens of years with any luck

Anyway, I think I've droned on more than enough about the world of watches. Sorry if I've bored you.

JR

Olympic Closing Ceremony

So that was it? The Olympics is now over. There's a lot I could say; most of it not exactly complimentary so I will exercise some self restraint and take a slightly irreverent tack.

Firstly, I can safely say that a childhood crush was reawakened. I still fancy Emma Bunton. Yes, I'll admit it. In my early teenage years I was something of a Spice Girls fan and most of it was nothing to do with the music. Having seen them again I experienced similar feelings and again Miss Bunton was still far and away the one for me. If anything, she has got more attractive now she is less fluffy. That said Victoria Beckham was looking stunning and seemed to be throwing herself into the performance despite some of her detractors claiming she may have been stuffed or replaced by a robot.

Other things I liked... Well I enjoyed the metaphor of the fames being opened by Paul McCartney and closed by John Lennon. Could they have been further apart in the performance? Well yeah, but not much!

I also rather enjoyed the fact that the next games will be in Rio... well Brazil. It provided ample opportunity for jokes about Brazilians (sorry folks, there's still part of me that's about twelve and he was sniggering at the back of the proverbial classroom)!

Although not closing ceremony related, Rowan Atkinson was magnificent. Really, he did it perfectly. Part tribute, part gentle satire. How utterly British.

Brian May was of course sublime. He is one of the few that can enjoy the title of bona fide rock god. The Who were also wonderful. Nobody does it like these guys (as was proven by young wipper-snappers covering some absolute classics for songs). Seeing them going strong was brilliant.

For me though, the show was stolen by Eric Idle. I have always liked 'Always Look on the Bright Side' and this performance of it hit the mark perfectly. Nods to Britain, nods to Python and plenty of the surreal. Idle's attempt a Bolywood dancing was hilarious. Good on him for going on and having a laugh.

Finally, the biggest high point of all. It's now all over and things can go back to normal. No longer will the television be saturated with sport and the papers show little else in their front few pages. I know I sound like a killjoy but the blanket refusal to acknowledge anything else in the world during the last two weeks has been a little bit trying. Our athletes, sporting ambassadors for our country, represented us well. Thank you for that. Now let real life re-commence.

JR

Stand up Comedy

Ok. No prises for guessing what this post is going to revolve around. I am a huge fan of comedy. Like most people (I would imagine) I love laughing. In this sense, the title is a bit misleading as it's not just standup I'm a fan of. I love bands that re-word popular songs with their own lyrics: some examples are here and here if you're interested (WARNING: the latter contains VERY bad language. Don't watch if you're easily offended... you have been warned!). I'm also rather partial to sitcoms: no surprise there since most people are. What I really love are ones like M*A*S*H and Yes Minister which, as well as having plenty physical gags and ones based on comic misunderstanding, also have magnificent wordplay. Recently I have developed a taste for more classic music-hall style stuff such as the Two Ronnies, Morcame and Wise and Andy Stuart (I know the first two aren't strictly speaking music-hall but in my mind they are a sort-of logical outcome of the genre). 

Unsurprisingly given the title of this post, I also love stand up comedy. My tastes in this field are rather eclectic. Undoubtedly my favourite of all time is Billy Connolly. The man is fantastic; the epitome of Glesgae Patter. His material never gets old so even when I know exactly what's coming, the anticipation of the punchline is pleasurable in itself. A true mark of his genius is that he can get my mother (not noted for her sense of humour) roaring with laughter every time. Although The Big Yin is often very crude and rude, he is always charming with it and can get away with it. Despite the profanity, it's mostly gently and good-natured. I also rather like Michael McIntyre for a similar reason. That said, I also love Frankie Boyle and his brand of "did he REALLY just say that?" humour.

Anyway, before this becomes a rather boring list of stand up comedians followed by clumsy summaries of their style, let me get to the point. I'm now seriously thinking about having a go myself. Of course, the logical time to give this a go would have been at Uni. You know? The place for experimentation and growth. I did think about joining the society but for whatever reason I didn't: probably because it clashed with my relentless pursuit of girls/learning. I did write a couple of sketches for departmental revues but claiming they were finely crafted comedy would be like claiming whisky is a soft drink. They went out pretty much unedited. Unfortunately, rather than enjoying the laughs which they undoubtedly got, I was squirming with embarrassment at how clunky they were. Writing dialogue has never been my strong suit and the lines I wrote were more of a guide to the editors and performers in the hope that they would convey the sentiment in words that sounded more natural.

Before I do myself down too much here, I do genuinely think I'm quite funny. It may not come across much here when I'm either ranting or promoting a cause, but generally I'm fairly affable and can see the funny side in almost any situation. However this trait doesn't necessarily make a comedian. It's all very well being able to laugh at something at the time but it's not much use if you relate the story to someone else who then looks at you blankly before saying (slightly too politely), "Hmmm. Perhaps you had to be there." Ouch. So anecdotal comedy I could well struggle with.

I could just get up and tell jokes. I have literally millions stored away in my memory banks however as I have heard all of them from other people, this feels a bit like cheating. Yes it's partly the way you tell 'em but it's also not really fair to take the credit for someone else's work.

Again this is erring on the negative so let me look at how I do make people laugh. I do this in several situation-specific ways. If I was being particularly pompous, I would call them personas but we all know we act differently in certain situations so the term is overrated. I can do grumpy rants peppered with outrageous metaphors. Usually they reach a crescendo of bile and vitriol having lost, almost entirely, the point of the rant. A few have been published up here but in person they generally get even more outrageous and colourful. This way could be fun. Certainly, it would be fairly straight-forward material to prepare and being grumpy comes worryingly easily. I also know that towards the end, the laughs would be directed at me rather than at what I was saying. No huge deal but if I go to the effort of writing material, it may as well get laughs on it's own merit.

So what next? My former flatmate and I had a good line in "banter" (for want of a better word). Part of this was the usual stream of knob jokes and accusations of self-abuse, part of it was winding each other up about the various scrapes we had found ourselves in over the years. Funny? Undoubtedly. Certainly as far as good-natured piss taking went. However this was most certainly a double act. Although some of the reposts could be used on hecklers, the winding up relied essentially on us knowing each other's slip-ups and gently making fun of them. That said, Dara O'Brien sometimes does something similar in his acts when he gently sends up members of the audience and at times himself so it is possible. Do I think it would work in a five minute slot in an open mic night? Do I hell.

So what next? In my most recent job I became known as a dispenser of 'dad jokes', you know? Awful puns and plays on words. This was largely due to the office being politically correct to a fault and therefore me having to keep the jokes clean (I say having because I find gratuitously serious situations unbearably dull. Yeah the work has to be done but there's no reason we can't have the odd laugh too). It was actually quite a refreshing change from my usual brand of innuendo and certainly allowed my love of word play to flourish. I did enjoy seeing how many people rolled their eyes as a reflex before ending up in fits of laughter. However this again would be hard to transpose on to an open mic format.

I could jump on the current bandwagon which seems to be along the lines of topical satire. There are several pitfalls here however. Firstly, if I hit a slow news day that's me buggered. Similarly it would be easy to misjudge entire situations. Bad if you have a reputation which you can work off, worse if it causes your first ever joke to bomb. There is also the significant chance that someone else better known is doing the same joke making you look like a lazy copy-cat. Finally, I know I often think along rather obscure lines (although the internet is going a long way to making me feel more normal... you're right; I need help!) therefore things that I pick up from any given news item might not be picked up by everyone else leaving them slightly perplexed. A good hypothetical example of this would be seeing a motorcade on one of Britain's roads. These have motorcycle outriders from a specific police team who only do this type of work. My initial reaction in seeing the motorcade could well be not, 'who is that?', nor even'where are they going?' but 'I wonder what the motorcycle outriders keep in the panniers of their bikes?'. See what I mean... weird! 

So this has been a ramble through the various ways I think I can make people laugh. It still hasn't got me much further forward with the idea of doing an open mic night. I do have some material written but it needs a lot of polishing. As I've written this, I've come up with a few more which I will jot down in a second. I can certainly get a five or ten minute routine out of it. Whether it's any good is another matter. When I eventually pluck up the balls to find out, I'll let you know (and I do it. My curiosity about my ability to make essentially strangers laugh is growing almost daily).

In the mean time, if you've read anything on here that you've found particularly amusing; please do take a second to let me know. Feedback is always welcome.

JR

Train Travel in the UK

I have written in the past about travelling by train in the UK. More specifically, I wrote about travelling between London where I lived and Scotland where I'm from. The verdict then was that train was unequivocally the best way to travel. Hiring a car would be prohibitively expensive (as would owning a car in London), planes aren't all that much quicker by the time faffing about in the airports was factored in and certainly weren't worth the increase in cost and coach travel just took too bloody long. I also said that train travel suited my impatient mentality since one was always moving and that the whole travel experience was generally rather pleasant if done with a good book, some sandwiches and a beer; certainly more fun than being treated like terrorist cattle in an airport. I stand by those assertions. There is still, in my opinion, no better way to get between central London and Scotland than by train.

Except now I don't live in London. Spurred on by tinges of homesickness, curiosity and an overwhelming desire to put off doing anything useful I decided to research ways of getting back to my home town.

The two options are essentially car and train. We now have a car so that removes hire costs. Coaches I'm sure are possible but take too long to be valid and where we now live is miles away from any mainstream airport so short of either chartering a plane or gaining my pilot's licence and flying from the local airfield, flying is unworkable.

Let's start with the train. There is now no direct line between here and Edinburgh (the main station with trains out to my home town). This means that any journey will incorporate at least two changes. That said, I don't really count Edinburgh as a change because I know the station well and I know there are trains every fifteen minutes or so to my home town so even if the stated connection is missed, it's no big deal. The other connection however would a) be a source of stress if the first leg was delayed and b) be a source of irritation as having to change half way would disrupt the book, sandwich, beer-fest that would be going on. That said, if it was going to be significantly cheaper or quicker it would be worth it.

Using a popular price-comparison website I found out that a return from here to my home town would cost around £85 with a railcard (which will expire in a couple of months on account of the fact that I'm old but not old enough to be a railcarded oldie!) and around £130 without (based on a weekend trip departing mid-afternoon Friday and arriving back mid-late evening Sunday). The shortest journey time I could find was near-enough 6 hours however most were closer to six and a half with one being well over seven. In addition there is a ten minute journey at either end to get to the station.

Now let's compare that to driving. Using google maps, I found the door to door distance to be around 380 miles. There is a 5 or so mile variation either way depending on the route taken however the average is about 380 - conveniently, it is also the exact distance of the route I am most likely to take which utilises the local knowledge I developed from growing up in the Central belt and combines the most direct route with the quietest and/or fastest roads but differs slightly from the satnav version). So far so good. The projected time for the journey, again according to google maps, is about 6 hours 20 minutes on average. Assuming that both the other half and me were going up then this could be extended to 6 and a half hours for driver changes and longer if it was just me so I could have suitable rest breaks. Factor in running into a bit of traffic here and there and we'll round the whole thing up to six and three-quarter hours.

So far so good. It's roughly on a par with the train in terms of time. Possibly marginally slower depending on which journey estimates you take for the train and if you include getting to and from the respective stations.

Now here's the kicker. Price. The car we have is a 1.2l hatchback so a bit of a lawnmower. Filling the tank costs around 65 quid. Most of the driving we do round about here is either stop-start driving in town or in winding country roads, again with a lot of acceleration and deceleration. In both instances, we generally opt for the gears that give greatest engine response rather than economy. All in all the way the car is driven is not exactly conducive to maximising the fuel economy. That said, it will comfortably do 400 miles on one tank. Any trip up to Scotland would be done mainly on large A roads and motorways at a fairly constant speed. Therefore I would expect the fuel economy to improve greatly. I wouldn't want to put a figure on it but I would be disappointed if it took more than two tanks to get up and back, do a small amount of driving up there and still have a bit left over for when we got back. As a ball park figure therefore, I would hope the total fuel bill would be around £120.

So car v train. If I was going by myself, the train would undoubtedly be cheaper by about fifty quid (I'm ignoring money on beer and sandwiches as I would doubtless spend money when stopping for rest breaks too. That said, it's possible I would spend more on the train as I would be at more of a loose end so if you want to add a tenner to the above prices then go for it). Depending on which trains I got, it may also be slightly quicker, although I doubt by too much. It's not often that I have been on a long train journey that hasn't been delayed in some way, shape or form. On the down side, there would be the hassle of at least one change, getting to and from the station and being tied to the train's schedule. In addition to this is the train its self. Although I have painted a fairly rosy picture so far, not getting a seat is a common occurrence (even if you have taken the trouble to reserve one) and I have seen myself passing long journeys in the vestibule perched on my bag. As if that isn't bad enough, there are other people. If they're not crowded up against you then they are playing their music at ear-splitting volume, bawling into their (i)phones (which of course don't have the sound turned off) or encouraging their kids to make as much noise as possible (why is it that dogs on trains are uniformly better behaved, and more personable, than kids on trains). When train travel goes well, it's brilliant. When it goes badly it's a nightmare. All of the aforementioned are all fairly intangible and only really affect the comfort of getting from A to B. If I was travelling solo therefore, there is a fairly strong case for either form of transport. I think my decision may well be an instinctive one rather than a reasoned one (although the way I'm feeling at the moment, I would probably plump for driving).

If however my other half was going up then the cheapest combined fair would be £170, rising to £215 when my railcard expires in a few months. Automatically the car becomes a no-brainer. It's so much cheaper as well as being available at our convenience rather than having to dance to the tune of the train journeys and has the added advantage of not forcing us to spend may hours in the company of mildly objectionable strangers (not always true, I've met some really nice people on the train but mostly my default setting is antisocial).

Part of me thinks this is a great shame. The idea of public transport is an excellent one however while it continues to be so inefficient and expensive it just isn't a viable option. Hopefully things will reach a critical mass soon and change will occur.

JR