2008 — 17 June: Tuesday
Here's my little family1 taking a break from building the patio in, I'm guessing2, the late Summer of 1982 or, possibly, in the Spring of 1983. My reasoning is that the Summer of 1983 was taken over by Christa's first round of cancer surgery (I don't think even I would have countenanced her heavy construction work then) and by the Summer of 1984 Peter would have been rather larger than he seems to be here:
A break from patio construction
There's a walk on the cards for later, so another packed lunch to prepare first. G'night.
Intended stroll
I'm informed (by an overnight email) that the route is not "on the cards," but rather on a loop bisected by the B3046 to the East of Northington, which sounds suitably sporting (if your sport is boxing the compass!) Mind you, I've also just been informed by the BBC's 07:30 news that universities in the UK are turning a blind eye to cheating in exams (safeguarding both their revenue streams and their reputation for academic excellence, no doubt). And as I skim their web site looking for the source of this tale (on the apparently mistaken assumption that Radio 2 news chaps are fed, as it were, from the same kitchen) I see that "Tests make science dull"! And that "There are now around 300,000 more young people going to university than 10 years ago" but that's another story.
Can you believe it? "... sometimes pupils misunderstood key principles because their teachers did not understand them well enough to give a clear explanation." Would that be the principles or the pupils, I wonder. I must say, one of the joys of being a retired semi-adult is the knowledge that I can put two fingers up to anyone suggesting I take any part in any exams (though I had to take that driving theory test, of course).
Found it!
Beach Boys philosophy... dept.
I could wish, these days, to avoid such songs as "God only knows (what I'd be without you)" as I'm currently finding out the hard way, Christa... Brekkie is loaded; next task: pack that lunch. I think the second half of yesterday's sausages should fuel the walk. And if you can't eat garlic outdoors, where can you eat it?
There's a scientific explanation...
... for the sleepiness I tend to feel at about 15:00 and (I learn) it's a biological vestige of bodily programming for two periods (only two?) of intense sleepiness. The Boston Globe kindly takes it upon itself to tell us "How to nap". Oh well. No time for a nap now. Time for the open road. Time, indeed, to ponder the strangest search string yet in my web server log:
payne atomic physics hmmm coffee encounters fred absorbed
One can but wonder... Mind you, if the unknown searcher ended up here as a result of one of the Googlebots that I can see are taking increasing amounts of bandwidth from my little web server the tricky little devils must be indexing every word they can find. Perhaps I should simply put a really exotic word on one of my pages and see how long it takes for someone to arrive here looking for it? I'm torn between tmesis and Procrustean for starters. That should give a certain young lady down in New Zealandland something to look up!
The old ones...
... are still the best:
[Author Ben] Lewis gives a striking example of this: the story of the sheep who try to leave the country, explaining to the border guards that they want to get out because the
secret police have received orders to arrest all elephants. 'But you're not elephants.' 'Try telling that to the secret police.'
This joke, he discovers, can be found in a 12th-century Persian poem.
Wish I'd thought of film reviewing...
... as a career. Probably better paid than the lowly career of a technical author in the strange world of computers. Sadly, very few comic books and graphic novels transmogrify into successful (or, in some cases, even watchable) films3 but when they are written about as entertainingly as (for example) in the New Yorker they are sometimes partially redeemed. Here's David Denby casting his eyes over "The Incredible Hulk" and (not a comic book, of course) "You don't mess with Zohan". Fabulous writing.
I am, of course, back from the latest country ramble. And I have a nice picture or two to show for it — I hope! Watch this tiny space. But I'm rather in need of more calories just now (18:13) — business (as it were) before pleasure.
A Weill trick... dept.
Desmond Carrington has devoted his BBC Radio 2 hour this week to the work of Kurt Weill. Christa would have loved every minute. What a pity she can't be here to listen. Speaking of listening, I mentioned a few weeks ago my 1976 adventures with binaural recording (aka dummy head stereo) for a freelance hifi magazine article I was commissioned to produce; that was one use to which I put the Nakamichi recorder I then had on loan:
Anyway, young Mr Schofield in the Guardian latched on to the concept, and suggested people check out these samples. As some of the people making comments say, this is not exactly new news, but the samples are new to me, at least. (I still have a recording I made of Christa and her parents chattering away animatedly in the summer of 1976, and recorded in binaural stereo.)
Carry on, chaps!
Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams...
Life proceeds, and reproduces, at a snail's pace underfoot!