tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26784797239814050902024-03-13T07:29:40.393+00:00Oblogotary readingA blog about anything I think might be interesting, amusing or even a bit controversial.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.comBlogger165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-6181258911137773882021-07-28T22:32:00.002+01:002021-07-28T22:42:20.508+01:00Corporate Nonsense<p>Several years ago when I was a manager working for a government fascilities management contractor, I wrote a post about it on this blog and thought no more about it. However, my bosses got hold of it and before I knew it I was called into the office and taken to task over it. As I was in danger of being sacked, I reluctantly agreed to take it down, along with another post about the outlandish behaviour and rudeness to me of one of my management colleagues. I never named him and I didn't name the company I was working for. Even so, best to be on the safe side! </p><p>I have now been retired for eight years, so I'll write what the hell I like and it won't get taken down, not by me anyway. Apart from the post about my colleague, I was really taking a pop at the utter waste of time of management meetings, at least the type which we were having then. I was a manager of a media department and this particular meeting was with the contract manager and all the other departmental managers. I sat there for about 2 or so hours hearing other managers going on about their issues which had absolutely nothing to do with me. Why should it be a concern of mine if the admin manager was having an issue with getting mats for the swimming pool - for instance. These meetings happened regularly and acheived nothing. It was just another tick in the box for the benefit of the contract manager and it looked good on his monthly report to the contract monitoring team. Some time later at another meeting I fell to sleep - I just couldn't stay awake. We were in a hot stuffy room, and at the time the supply manager was droning on about something he could no doubt have sorted out by a quick email or phone call to his manager. My own very caring boss (not) insisted afterwards that I had to email everyone present at the meeting and apologise for my indiscretion. I doubt whether he would have done the same if it had been the other way around.</p><p>Eventually, when I was really getting to the end of my tether with the job, and there were a variety of reasons for this, I sat and took stock of what I actually did which was useful and constructive. I also took stock of the way certain staff were making my life a misery. I dreaded Monday mornings coming around. At least two of my staff were complete psychos and didn't give a momkey's stuff about what the effects of their actions were having on me, or anyone else for that matter. I had tried doing useful and constructive things to benefit and take the department forward, but my own boss, gave me zero support. I had been very enthusiastic and keen when I was originally promoted to the position, but in the end it was all just drained and sucked out of me. I decided that it was all pointless, and not worth the hassle, so I decided on a time scale after which I would hand in my notice. From making the decision and leaving, I just did what I absolutely had to and no more. I took a book into work and just sat in the privacy of my office reading most of the time. I always felt the job was vacuous, and this point was proved when the company never bothered to replace me after I had left, though they were a really tight-arsed company and would do anything to save a penny.</p><p>Since I have retired, I have never missed it for one second. I still have friends who are even today working there, but my life has been much richer, happier and varied for leaving. I am never stuck for anything to do, and I am working voluntarily in a number of activities with people who actually appreciate "what I bring to the table" so to corporate speak!</p><p><br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-29288496606146233882021-07-27T22:09:00.002+01:002021-07-27T22:53:33.807+01:00Think of Something.....Quick!<p>This evening I am sat here again with a blank virtual sheet in front of me wondering what to write about. I've been wondering this for most of the day, and still am. </p><p>I have read somewhere that writing regularly is a discipline. Probably the best book I have read on the subject is by Stephen King, the horror author. The book is called "On Writing" - What else?? I guess it didn't take him all night to think that title up! The thing I like about King is that he writes just what he thinks, and it comes across pretty much like he's talking directly to you. He doesn't mince his words, but he's not crude. I have read a few of his books including "Carrie" which is the first novel he got accepted for publication together with a substantial cheque which was a great thing for him as he was struggling financially at the time. And then later he sold the film rights, published a zillion other novels and the rest is history. I suppose therefore I would strongly recommend you get a copy of "On Writing"if you are interested in writing yourself, which not only gives you fantastic advice on how to write, but also speaks of his earlier struggle as an English teacher to get his first book written and published. I leave it to you, dear reader, to judge whether I have learnt anything from it myself!</p><p>Keeping on the subject of writing, I write a daily diary detailing all the things I have done that day. This can be very helpful as it concentrates the mind, gets you away from Facebook or any other trashy social media, gives you a record of your life, provides a great reference if you are trying to remember what you were doing on a certain day and gives your loved ones a record of your life when you finally shake off this mortal coil. It can also provide a good defence if you get arrested for a crime you didn't commit! On top of all that, I find it cathartic in that if something has upset me or wound me up during that day, I can get it off my chest to my diary before I go to bed. This has become such a ritual for me that I don't feel the day is complete until I have written it. Also, I don't type it but physically write it with a fountain pen, and each entry is up to around 400 words long which roughly equates to about one page of A4. The act of writing with a pen is a great thing in itself in this day of keyboards both physical and virtual. I don't use long hand as my writing is very scruffy, so I am in the habit of writing in block capitals, which I suppose is a bit lazy, but I just find it seems to suit me.</p><p>I like to read other people's blogs and notice that there are a great many different styles of blog out there. One type is a bit like writing a daily diary. I would prefer not to write in this way, its just not my style. However I would like to recommend one particular expositor of this blogging style, and that is "Katyboo1's Weblog". You can find it on Word Press, or just Google it. Its brilliant and this lady has a great gift for blogging, and it is never dull. I am one of her greatest fans!</p><p>Well the time is getting on. It will soon be time for bed - I have another busy day tomorrow, and I need to write my diary........</p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-91109315825578739552021-07-26T19:49:00.001+01:002021-07-26T19:49:36.631+01:00Well hello Again....<p> Given 2017 was a fair while ago, I thought it was about time I let everyone know that I am still alive and kicking. I am still alive and kicking......so now you know!</p><p>A lot has happened in my life since 2017, too much to go on about here. Anyway, that would be way too boring.</p><p>As I get older, and at the moment I feel pretty ancient, I appreciate that time is precious especially when I realise there is a lot less of it ahead of it ahead of me than than there is behind me. With this in mind, I felt it increasingly important to procrastinate less, and get my backside in gear and do stuff. I also have fewer teeth than in 2017, by the way.....just thought I'd slip that in!!! </p><p>Photography is still an important part of my life, which is not surprising when you consider it was my profession the whole of my working life. Just lately I have had a hankering to go back to film. To those who don't know what the hell film is (yes.......I've met one), its what we used before digital and it was made of celluloid or some such material. Now the great thing about film is that it lasts virtually forever, it's tactile and easy to store.....in my case in transparent sleeves. I have dragged my old Nikon 35mm SLR camera out, bought some black and white film and am now nearly at the end of firing off the last few frames of the 36 available exposures on the roll. I must say, I have very much enjoyed getting out with it. It has no auto focus, auto exposure or auto anything for that matter. Its quite heavy, and weighs a ton in comparison with my digital SLR. It has a fixed standard lens, and I don't have a wide angle or a telephoto lens for it.....yet. Anyway, rather than drone on about this any longer I'll leave it at that for the moment until I've got it processed, although I do feel a bit of a rebel sticking one finger up at digital!</p><p>I am very pleased the legalities of wearing a mask or social distancing have at last been dropped, but I know a lot don't agree with me on this one. I noted today from The Times that the infection rates are dropping rapidly which is excellent news. However, on the other side of the coin scientists have ascertained that farting in toilets spreads the virus! I guess I'd better just shove a cork in it! </p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-45517507819135136032017-09-01T10:12:00.002+01:002017-09-01T19:38:01.750+01:00Just BeautifulMany years ago when I was a teenager-and that really is a <i>LONG </i>time ago - my music teacher played a record to us by a young newbie on the scene called Bob Dylan. Some of you may have heard of him. The song he played was "With God on Our Side". The premise was that when countries go to war they often claim that they have God on their side to justify their going to war. But then comes the kick in that a country might be evil without God on it's side (from it's enemy's point of view), but then after the war they make friends with their former enemies, get forgiven and then they too have God on their side. "Though they murdered six million, in the ovens they fried, the Germans now too have God on their side." Well, from an objective point of view I do not accept this premise because I do not believe in the god of any religion, and if there is a force in nature you might loosely refer to as "God", then it certainly does not concern itself with human affairs, let alone taking sides in wars. Anyway, just to confuse things still further, none of the above is what I have sat down to write this blog post about. Its just that Bob Dylan plays the guitar and its really the guitar I want to write about.<br />
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Even so, this state of affairs raises an interesting question about consciousness. I got an invite from a Facebook friend (she's also a real friend) to attend a "Philosophy in the Pub" meeting in the pub. This was shortly after I had joined her Facebook group called "Philosophy in the Pub"; I guess that figures and hope that is clear. Anyway, the conversation over the beer glasses got around to the nature of consciousness, which if you spend too long trying to work out you go insane and then disappear up your own rectum, so contemplation in this regard is only recommended for short periods, with doses of "Game of Thrones" or "West World" or some such escapism in-between. The guy to my left made the comment that as we don't know what we are going to say next, do next or think next, then consciousness takes on a special quality we can never reproduce in a computer.....or some sort of argument like that. Lets just say it was deep man, deep. Anyway, going back to the former paragraph I really didn't know properly what I was going to write, things just pop into my head and stuff comes out, in this case getting printed onto my computer screen. This raises the question whether we are fully in control, whether we truly have free will, and is life purely random with us only steering things in a broad sort of way over time, but not having real control on a moment by moment basis (?) which is amply illustrated in the fact that a few seconds ago I never really knew I was going to write what I have just written in that sort of way. So let's get back to the guitar.<br />
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My friend Peter Shelley liked Bob Dylan, as I did. Being materially well endowed, he had an acoustic guitar, and we used to sit in his house playing on his guitar. Or rather- HE played on his guitar and I watched. My mum had a Marshall Ward catalogue (you have to be a certain age to remember those) and I noted that for a small monthly sum I could buy my own acoustic guitar, which my mum ordered for me. I then got myself some Bob Dylan sheet music and started to learn to strum certain chords, principally G, C, F and D. From this I learnt to 'sort of' play songs like Dylan's "Mr Tamborine Man" (not sure how you play a song on a tambourine) and Donovan's "Colours". Tambourine Man had a special resonance for me as I found the melody and the words particularly appealing. Lines like "Take more for a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship, My senses have been stripped, My hands can't feel to grip........." synced well with the elated feelings I experienced doing free fall parachuting (badly, but that's another story). Also, I loved, and still do, the Byrds jingly jangly version of the song which stayed at number one in the British charts for seven weeks. I also got a bit more adventurous with other songs like "The Times they Are A-Changin'" as a finger up to the establishment kind of song.<br />
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On and off, I continued to play sporadically over the decades since then, but not very well and making very little progress beyond my first rather very imperfect attempts. Eventually I bought a new guitar deciding to try and revive my by now dwindling interest. However, having a shiny new guitar is one thing, but playing it any better than the previous one is a different matter, and the poor instrument spent most of its time in its bag.<br />
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My musical wife, on the other hand loves the piano and on and off (I guess we are a on and off kind of couple, musically that is), took lessons from a professional concert pianist while we were stationed with the RAF in West Germany (as was), and she made considerable progress. After owning a couple of "real" pianos she finally took the plunge a couple of years ago splashing out on a new all singing all dancing and even making the coffee electronic digital (everything is digital these days!) piano which I have to say sounds wonderful. She has regular lessons, taken gradings, and it is always a pleasure to hear her practising on a daily basis. Anyway, to cut a long story shorter, while we were visiting the music shop for some sheet music she was after, I found myself lustfully eyeing up the guitars. There is something very sensual about the feel of a guitar. Even more sensual was the sound and tone of the model (a Yamaha) I chose to buy, booking myself guitar lessons at the same time. That was several months ago, and now that I have found some direction in my playing I am making progress. I have also got a new teacher who is an inspired player who I find great pleasure in just listening to, let alone playing myself. All this of course, gives you inspiration and makes you want to do more and improve, and there is massive satisfaction in learning to play something well. Also, our local Oxfam Books and Music shop where I currently work as a volunteer has started promoting Open Mic nights at the hotel across the road from the shop. Well, I love to perform, though I have never dared to perform on the guitar, so dire has been my playing (I am also a singer and have taken part down the years in a number of amateur musical productions in front of paying audiences), so I have decided to "have a go" on the guitar in a few weeks time. Having been to the first of these evenings last month, I gauged that the performance standard to get some kind of applause or even whoops of approval might just about be coming into my orbit of capability - particularly if I play a lot later in the evening when the alcohol has taken greater affect! So there we are, I have something to aim for giving more reason than just personal satisfaction to my daily endeavours.<br />
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The guitar is a fascinating instrument. It was originally meant to be a cheap instrument bringing to the common masses a means of playing without the expense of a piano, the snobbery of a violin etc...etc... - it was an instrument for the common person. However, generations of incredibly talented instrumentalists have given the guitar a cult status not obtained by any other instrument. It comes in a number of forms like electric rock and base guitars, classical acoustic and folk and others.... Whilst I love folk singing, I am drawn very much to the likes of Jimmy Hendrix whose off the wall playing is legendary. Other players like Chet Atkins, Santana, Jimmy Page, Brian May and Eric Clapton to name but a few, have taken the guitar by storm and made it sound just beautiful. I know I can never be like them, but at least in my own very modest way through sore fingers and constant practise I might be able to achieve something which sounds reasonably like good music.<br />
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-12308547587631056792017-08-26T22:44:00.001+01:002017-08-26T23:00:14.076+01:00Keeping BusyWell, here we are late at night and I had the crazy idea to write a blog post. For those of you who thought me dead, this might come as a pleasant surprise......I would like to think???????<br />
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Anyway, I have decided to write a bit about what I do with my time in retirement, or at least since I gave up my job some 4 years ago now. It seems whenever you see any adverts on the telly to do with retirement (usually linked with DEATH....oh boy), they always seem to show the old man pottering around in the greenhouse or in the garden....or some suchlike thing. Often the wife is talking really enthusiastically about some "British Old Gits" death insurance policy which will ensure their loved ones will get all of £26.50 each to bury them when they pop their clogs, which, if the ads are to believed they are enthusiastically looking forward to! Well, OK, I wax lyrical and exagerate somewhat, but if you follow the popular fiction, your later non-working years are the twilight zone where you are in some kind of gardening, insurance paying limbo awaiting the arrival of the grim reaper. I decided this kind of retirement was not for me. It just isn't me, and it never will be. I am a retirement non-conformist.<br />
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So what DO I do with myself, I hear you ask (not). Well, I have developed an interest in the history of the RAF, and particularly RAF Wyton, the place where I began my career as a boy in blue, and finished my career 46 years later as a civvy, spookily habitating the same office as my first boss in 1967. How's that for full circle! RAF Wyton has by good fortune a heritage centre, and I have found a bit of a bolt hole there as a volunteer. I now spend time showing people around the exhibits as well as teaching them some history, though some know considerably more than me! We also do road-shows to educate the public as well as give talks both at the centre and away at libraries, WIs, Probus groups and such like. All the time I am having to keep reading and researching to increase my knowledge so I can speak more authoritatively . The subject matter is the entire history of RAF Wyton from 1916 to the present day, the RAF Path Finder Force (RAF Wyton was the Headquarters of the Path Finder Force in WWII), and photo reconnaisance, as the base has spent a lot of it's life in that sphere of activity.<br />
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In 2015 I had a surprise visit from our local District and Town councillor who thought it a good idea if I ran for the Town Council. This was all a bit of a surprise as I never saw myself in local government, though he had suggested it briefly before, and after a milisecond I said no. Obviousely he was not convinced! Following conversation over coffee and biscuits I decided, oh what the heck, and accepted to stand. The next thing I knew I was out knocking on doors around the ward and more or less got a friendly reception. On the night of the election I won 1306 votes which won me the seat.......so here I am doing my bit for the town as best I can. Given my background in media, I am now chair of the Media sub-committee as well as chair of the Town Twinning sub-committee. I am also vice chair of the Leisure and Community Services committee, to name a few of my responsibilities. Last year, the District Council in their infinite wisdom decided to cut our 4 year term short by one year so as to bring town and parish elections in line with the district elections. However, there is a twist in this tale in that I have decided not to stand next year. I was so disgusted with the policies and actions of the Conservative government and after a re-assessment of who I really am and what I really care about, I left the Conservative Party and joined the Green Party. I have decided that I will be a Green activist in the future, but I will not be standing again for office, although I reserve the right to change my mind!<br />
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I am a lover of books. I am a real bookworm. For me, an hour in Waterstones is like a kid in his favourife toy shop or an alcoholic in a brewery! I just can't get enough of books, and regard the gift of reading one of the most precious things in my life. In 2013, shortly after I packed in work, I went for a browse around my local Oxfam bookshop, which I had only just noticed, despite the fact that I must have walked past it many times over the years. I fell in love with the place instantly and offered myself up as a volunteer. A month or so later, following a holiday in Cornwall, I worked my first shift. Since. then I have never looked back. The manager is a man who in his previous life was a college English teacher. The ethos of the shop is number one, have fun, number two, offer the customer the best experience you can. We get masses of donations, and some of what we get turn out to be real gems, including first editions which we might sell for hundreds of pounds. We do a big trade in vinyl records, which have made a big comeback in recent years. Many of our customers are serious collectors and it is not unusual for a customer to spend a three figure sum before walking out the door. Of course, we are very particular in what we put out for sale at the front of shop, as we have built up a reputation which we have no intention of tarnishing. We also, as well as selling things, give our support to local artists. These can be painters, contempory artists, or musicians. A couple of weeks ago we sponsored a concert by two local rock groups at a local hotel. I did the photography for the event, the prints from which will soon be used as a window display.<br />
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So there we are. There is a lot more I do than I have mentioned here, but it ought to be apparent that I am far from having nothing to do and have no excuse for being bored, though I have to say, I did spend an hour trimming our front hedge earlier this afternoon.<br />
<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-10310792298940987732016-07-10T22:23:00.000+01:002016-07-11T15:22:41.712+01:00Advancing years.OK, I know I have said this before and not carried it through, but this time I really do mean to write and publish posts more frequently as it has been clearly mega-yonks since I last wrote anything. How long is a 'yonk" by the way?<br />
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The next question of course, is what to write about? I have to confess I have gone very stale since my first flushes of enthusiasm when I started this blog nearly a decade ago. As I have aged somewhat in that time, I think ageing will be my topic for this post.<br />
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It only seems a little over 26 years ago when I suddenly realised I had reached the incredible age of 40......wait......it WAS a little over 26 years ago.....gulp! I had just finished 23 years service in Her Majesty's Royal Air Force and was now being unceremoniously booted out as I had outstayed my welcome and was past my 'use by' date. Of course, this caused a tremendous shock to the system as the RAF had been most of what I had ever known and I couldn't believe the years had flown by so quickly. But more than that, for the first time I began to feel <i>old. </i>It occurred to me that in another 20 years I was going to be 60 and given how quickly the last 20 years had passed, I was on a fast track to oblivion. This put me in a bit of a panic. After all, unless something unfortunate happens to finish you off in the meantime, you die when you get old, and I wanted neither of these eventualities. I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night with the cold and panicky thought that I was going to die, and I would try to imagine what it must be like to be dead! Of course, this was all very stupid as it is clearly not like anything and beyond the realms of imagination. I suppose if you are religious then your outlook would be completely different, but I was in the process of giving up on professing to be a 'born-again' Christian, and despite being a lay preacher for a number of years and even getting a couple of GCE 'A' Levels to go to theology college to become a minister, after some good nights sleep and a few neat whiskeys I had my own 'road to Damascus' experience where I realised it was all a load of impossible and irrational tosh, so I made a complete about-turn. That is not to say I am not <i>spiritual, </i>but then that's getting way off track.<br />
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Anyway, as the years passed I realised that worrying about ageing and mortality was pointless and somewhat stupid. One of my work colleagues also advised me in a moment of solemnity that growing old is a privilege which many people are deprived of. Thinking about this, I realised he was quite right, and growing older or being old is not something to get depressed about, but savoured. I have always lived a very active life, and achieved many things, and I decided that this was the way I should continue. In 1997, I walked the 'Pathfinder March'. This is a annual 46+ miles walk around the original four Pathfinder Stations of the Path Finder Force which came into being on 15th August 1942, with its headquarters at RAF Wyton. I managed to complete the walk in good time and in lots of pain and mind bending fatigue, but was pleased with myself as many people much younger than me had dropped out. Since then, I have completed it 5 more times, the last time being the event on 18th June 2016. I keep myself fit and work out at the gym and try to eat reasonably healthily, though I do have a penchant for ice cream and fish n' chips! Since retirement three of years ago, I have found a new life in volunteering and community service, though not the type which the beak hands down to you in a court of law! I also follow my photography hobby avidly and keep finding lots of new ways to make use of it, both for my own satisfaction and the benefit of others, so I am kept extremely busy doing things I enjoy and find worthwhile. Thankfully, I am blessed with good health.....sort of...........but guess what??????........ I just don't care. As Spike Milligan once said (I think)..."If you say you have nothing wrong with you, then there is something wrong with you".<br />
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Basically then, I do quite like being an old git, or fart, or codger or whatever the current common terminology might be prevailing. I am going to continue doing what I do as long as I am able and to hell with the advancing years, I am going to wallow in them. I may well lose my marbles, but then as one of my friends recently said to me - "Its alright losing your marbles so long as you don't <i>know</i> you have lost them"!<br />
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<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-32401238590852743452013-10-18T14:49:00.000+01:002013-10-18T22:18:45.941+01:00Growing Pains<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I was a child I had a great love of the countryside. I would go for long walks down the lanes, and across the meadows with my mates around the environs of Potters Bar. I particularly liked playing and exploring the local streams like "Bridgefoot" where in its clear running waters you would see shoal upon shoal of Sticklebacks, little fish we would catch in our nets, and take them home in jam jars to be re homed in our garden ponds. I particularly liked playing around and exploring the many small lakes and ponds, each brimming over with its own natural wildlife. It was easy to find lots of frogspawn, some of which, like the sticklebacks would find its way back to our garden pond. It was fascinating watching the little tadpoles slowly take form in their protective jelly, then hatching into the water, and slowly growing legs while their bodies grew slowly plumper and their tails slowly retracting until at last they reached their destination of turning into properly formed frogs. They would then, after a while, struggle their way out of the pool and make off on their own to pastures new.</div>
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If I walked outside my garden gate and turned right and walked about a hundred yards, I could climb through the wire into what was affectionately known as the "cow field", although the cows of my very early youth disappeared to be replaced by horses from a riding club whose premises lay in a far flung corner of the field next to the main road, Mutton Lane. Just the other side of the fence was a small pond which was home to all sorts of water borne life, but of particular interest to me and my mates were the newts. There were various hinds of newts living here, and they were not uncommon. Some of these also found themselves living in my garden pond!</div>
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When I look back, there were ponds, clear streams, fields, woodlands and wildlife everywhere. Tragically, now, many of these places I loved and played in have vanished along with the wildlife they supported. The vast field near my house with its newt pond got redeveloped into a big housing estate. From the railway path, you could look up across the field and see my house standing proudly in its row as you walked to and from the shops. Not any more, just the bland view of the obscuring over-priced houses. Another bit of the field was swallowed up after they knocked down my old junior school to make way for more "badly needed" flats and rebuilt the school on the field, a mere shadow of the proud buildings where I received my primary education. The fields separating the northern and southern parts of Potters Bar were slowly consumed by more development, laying waste to the "sprat pond", another haven of wild life where my brother used to go. Of course, it goes without saying that this theme has gone on at an ever accelerating pace since my childhood and the landscape in many places has changed beyond recognition for the worse. And the cause of all this is...........us.</div>
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I feel a great despair for this planet because us humans have blighted it with our presence and determination to breed beyond the limits of what the environment can support. The net result is the rapidly accelerating destruction of our countryside as the towns turn into cities and the cities keep expanding ever onwards swallowing up local villages and the land between the villages being redeveloped with endless new housing estates. Of course, all this puts additional pressure on the infrastructure, so more and more roads get built, more and more shopping centres spring up, more and more traffic on the roads, ever more power stations and wind farms have to be built, more and more pollution.....and so it goes on.</div>
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One of my favourite sci-fi films is "Blade Runner". It begins with a vision of a future where you don't see any countryside, everywhere you look is a vast multi-layered city towering up into the sky, while in the streets below people scurry around in a constant smog of pollution. My fear is that if we continue as we are, this is the kind of future we could be heading for unless there is a radical change in which we, as a species command our affairs. </div>
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As I see it, population growth is the most obvious factor driving all this, along with an economy which is ever seeking more and more growth, which in the long term cannot be anything but unsustainable. Look around where you live. Unless you are very fortunate there will not be any truly natural (primeval) countryside to be seen, its all being either farmed or redeveloped. On an aircraft flying across Europe earlier this year on my way to Hungary, I couldn't help but notice the landscape below which was all a patchwork of farm fields, with very little in the way of forest or open moorland to be seen. We are getting to the point where the only bits of the planet which are untouched by humans are those very remote and inhospitable places which, for the moment, we see as unfit for human habitation, but I believe even that will change. Of course, another outcome in all this is man's continued inhumanity to man, with wars and jaw dropping barbarism going on in untold spots around the globe, while millions starve and children live on the streets or out of cardboard boxes, scavenging among the city rubbish tips in the hope of finding something to keep a foothold on staying alive.</div>
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Clearly, the world needs to stop, step back, and realise that we cannot go on like this. Unless something is done to turn back the tide, our future on this planet is at best very grim, and at worst doomed. A factor I haven't mentioned yet, is, of course climate change. All the time I hear of governments pledging to take steps to reduce the amount of CO2 they chuck out into the atmosphere, but when do you hear of them saying they will take steps to reduce, or at least stabilise their populations? You don't. Religion has a lot to answer for where population explosion is concerned, particularly in the insistence on the sanctity of all human life and the right of every foetus to be born, whether or not it may be deformed, or not wanted by the parents, or the result of a rape....or whatever - you get the picture. You have those who don't allow contraception or abortions. The result being large families of people in very overcrowded cities, poverty, deprivation, and disease - ridden early death for many of these unfortunate children who had to be born because they are sacred to the god existing only between the ears of those who believe in him/she/or it. They call themselves "pro life" when the ultimate outcome of their stance is misery and death.</div>
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China has been castigated for its one child policy. China is at least facing up to the problem and trying to do something about it. You would think that China having the land mass that it has, would have loads of room for everyone, with vast reaches of unspoiled countryside. Well, this is more and more not the case, and they are fighting to resolve it, even though some of their methods seem cruel to us in the west. </div>
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Well, I think I have made my point. I have mentioned these things in earlier postings, but now I am not working any more (for the moment at least), I find myself with more time to ponder these issues, and write about them. Its now time for me to take a walk from my house where there was a nice field at the back of us when we moved in 16 years ago, and is now an ugly housing development. I'm going to the corner shop which was once a much more modest affair but which charmingly catered for all our basic needs, but has since been taken over by Tesco attracting every man and his dog as well as being frequented by massive delivery lorries blocking up the road and creating chaos.....oh joy! </div>
Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-7913502565923537302013-01-20T12:50:00.000+00:002013-01-20T21:51:28.765+00:00Cold Comfort<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I sit pondering, the snow is falling outside my window. It has been for over an hour now and I am not feeling much like doing anything that involves moving more than a few small muscles. I feel cerebrally active but leave out the physical - its something I need to work up to, like building up a head of steam from cold, and at the moment I'm cold, though not in a thermal sense (I'm warm), just in the getting up out of my comfortable settee (think the last interest - free installment on it has been paid- I'll know when the statement comes!). My wife has started zotting around the house doing things that have to be done because "I just can't sit here" - I know what she means but I refuse to feel guilty so I'll just sit here with "Primeval" as background audio visual wallpaper while I wax lyrical.</div>
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Back to the snow. Its still snowing and the vacuum cleaner dirt cylinder has just been emptied. Yesterday on BBC2 they showed a documentary - "Winterwatch 1963 - the Big Freeze" which I watched last night following returning from watching a pantomime in Cambourne, late and when I really should have been in bed. It re-ran a very old film on the "Tonight" programme presented by Cliff Michelmore (that took me back!), and it seemed as if in January and February of 1963 the world nearly came to an end while perishing under polar blizzards, Siberian temperatures, and Himalayan ice flows. One amazing fact which came out of it and was not mentioned by Cliff was that half the British bird population was wiped out. (Its still snowing). However, over the following not many years, the birds quickly re-established themselves in even greater numbers - hurrah!</div>
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In 1963 I was a mere stripling 13 years old skinny lad who could easily die of hypothermia if left out too long. I remember the Big Freeze. At the time, from my point of view it didn't feel like the Big Freeze, it was more a wow, this is fantastic - all this snow and I can't wait to get out in it type of thing, though my Mum and Dad didn't see it in the same way. My Dad (we didn't have a car) used to cycle (the pedal type) to work each day from Potters Bar to Southgate and somehow or other still made it to work every day - and back. I don't ever remember him coming home early because his kindly caring employer had let him off early because of the severe weather! One thing which really stands out in my memory is OUR SCHOOL NEVER CLOSED - NOT EVEN FOR A DAY!!!!! I remember one lunchtime building a huge snowball - the type you could only build by rolling it with the help of others, and then , somehow, lifting it high enough to crash it down onto one of the other boy's head - can't remember who he was but I have a hazy memory of him not being very amused This lead to a pitched snow battle between all my mates and all his mates and any form or level of violence was good enough, so long as it involved snow - oh how we laughed!</div>
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I remember milk bottles on the doorstep with the cream having expanded upward and leaving the tin foil top sitting precariously on top, often with bird-beak driven holes in the top where the desperate starving birds had pecked into them for sustenance. When I went "down the shops" down the "line path" to Darkes Lane with my mum, she never had to carry the shopping home because we'd stick it on the sled and pull it home. I was very sorry when the thaw eventually came as it must, and the snow disappeared, as taking the sled shopping was fun; not taking the sled and there being no snow and no use for the sled was just plain boring. One day I took a trek to my mate Paul's house and we built an igloo in his garden. This was no nambi-pambi half-hearted igloo, but the real McCoy. The snow was so deep in his garden we actually cut and fashioned big snow building blocks and finished up with an igloo you could live in - if you were so inclined, but I wasn't and my parents wouldn't have let me even if I had wanted to. It was still there when all the surrounding snow had long melted, it was that good!</div>
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Nowadays when it snows, we just don't seem to be able to cope. Schools close because there is 2 inches of snow on the ground and horror of horrors it might even become 3!!!!! People get sent home from work early - mustn't risk anyone having an accident on the way home if we leave it too late! Even so, if I get sent home, I don't complain! - more time for pursuing my hobbies.... The ten pin bowling league gets cancelled, even though if people did make the effort and drove carefully, it would probably be alright! Trains stop running and airports close. The economy falters as goods do not get delivered and we hear of food prices having to rise. It will be very interesting then, as we plunge ever deeper into the Doomsday consequences of global warming or should I say climate change, to see how we cope in the future when we most surely according to current predictions have to face winters far worse than anything we encountered in 1963. Back to the British "War Time Spirit" and "Stiff Upper Lip" methinks.</div>
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<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-37335172285895161592013-01-14T21:46:00.000+00:002013-01-14T21:46:26.777+00:00ShopachronicMy wife was recently reading one of the "Shopaholic" series of chic-lit books. Although not a chick myself, but more of a grumpy old git that sometimes likes to get in touch with his feminine side, I stole it away and read it myself. I was immediately amused, entranced and ensnared in the antics of a fictitious woman who just has to shop!<br />
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Now, I know that where women are concerned, shopping is a kind of divine ritual which just has to be done no matter what and no matter what the state of the home finances might be. In the book, the heroine. although in deep financial trouble herself, and ironically is employed as a columnist in a savings magazine, just cannot stop shopping and keeps buying expensive and exotic things even though she doesn't actually need them, but then if they are sold at such a fantastic discount, then you would have to be mad not to buy - I mean you are actually SAVING money if you do!!<br />
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I have to admit, that unlike many men, I do actually like shopping. I think its a primeval thing going back to that part in my genetic make-up that sends me out into the wild to hunt and kill and bring back the trophies to a grateful wife and family who are massively impressed by my great dexterity and cunning in acquiring such wonderful things! At least, it might be like that in my mind, but the reality is that I rarely buy myself anything and even when I do I have to justify it to myself. I mean - do I really NEED it? Is it something which will make a possible difference to my life? If its a book, well if its non-fiction does it contain information I could get for nothing off the Internet? Okay, its a book I really want so could I buy it for cheaper as an ebook? Hang on, what about all the books you have already, and you haven't read them yet. So I don't buy it.<br />
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Right, never mind anything - I've got some spare cash so I'M DETERMINED TO TREAT MYSELF. How about a new camera? Well, Jessops has just gone under, so can't look there. Never mind, John Lewis is always good - yeah, great, they've got a whole range of real hot quality cameras. Hang on a moment - whats wrong with the DSLR you already have, not to mention the 12 mega pixel bridge camera, and have you forgotten the 8 mega pixel camera on your smart phone? Okay, forget it, so lets get a movie camera instead. Not so fast.....the voice from within shouts - you already have 1080P on both your cameras and guess what? - 1080P on your smart phone so JUST FORGET IT YOU ARE NOT GETTING IT BECAUSE ITS A COMPLETE WASTE OF MONEY AND YOU ARE JUST SPENDING FOR THE SAKE OF IT!!!!!<br />
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This is just not fair, surely theres something I can buy myself - I know - a cappuccino and a muffin in Muffin Break - yeah ecstasy!<br />
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Finally, I do end up getting something, but more likely along the lines of a pack of 4 gel pens for £4.60 from Staples. ...or something............................ oh well, lets get the groceries - I don't have to justify not starving!<br />
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Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-86259752161986534082012-12-27T23:43:00.000+00:002012-12-28T12:32:09.097+00:00A New Dawn<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, here we are on the cusp of a new year and I haven't written anything since August! How can this be? Have I gone brain dead or something (don't answer!). Have I lost interested in everything? Is there nothing I feel inspired to write about? Well, there have been a lot of things which have caught my interest, but I have just not been motivated enough to write anything, I suppose I have just been going through a phase of extreme lazyitus.</div>
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This is all about to change - no wait!........It HAS changed by virtue of the fact that I am actually writing at this moment. I have announced to my children my desire to start blogging again and have been given some sage advice from one of them and that is to stay off the subject of religion. Well, you don't have to look back very far in my blog postings to get a hint of my leanings in that direction, so I won't comment again unless some news story just sits up and begs comment, so I guess it wont be long then......!</div>
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Christmas has come and gone and we have all been caught up in the spirit of love and forgiveness for our fellow man - or woman. Of course we have. Have we bollocks?!?.....not a literal question of course as it is clear we don't all have bollocks mainly due to gender related constraints, but if the spirit of love and forgiveness has been adopted then life will be so much better from now on. People will no longer be winding me up so much and I might even change my attitude to humanity in general! Life is about relationships, and if people choose to be shit in their relationships with others then that is their business, but please don't involve me in that as I have enough issues of my own without having other people's pathetic hang ups dumped upon me all of which could be easily done away with by a simple change of attitude and the realization that life is too short to go around baring grudges. However, I have no faith whatsoever that when the Christmas/New Year break is over and I step boldly back out into the daily grind, anything will have changed. </div>
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Even so, there will still be moments of great positivity and inspiration with people giving of themselves to others in a completely selfless and sacrificial manner. These are people who refuse to be drawn into the norms of human selfishness, hate, depravity and greed, who will not just go that extra mile for their fellow man, but many miles - even to the point of collapse. Most of these people go unnoticed and in the main, unreported. Many will not be acting in response to any religious beliefs, but just to their common humanity to their fellow man. They are not looking for fame or fortune, but just following their instincts and love in the service of others. Most people are decent and kind, though some believe that charity starts at home while forgetting that home is not meant to be the end point! I am of course aiming these musings at myself as well as anyone who might be reading this, as I don't want this to sound like some sanctimonious sermon which turns people off and makes them want to reach for their vomit bag! I just find certain aspects of life, and humanity in general very depressing and I believe it would only take a very small change in common decency and the way people act to transform the world and society in general to being a much kinder and more tolerant place.</div>
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Here's wishing a very happy and fulfilling new year to all my readers.<br />
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<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-73761373282154843022012-08-10T22:58:00.000+01:002015-12-14T00:41:09.819+00:00India on MarsWhilst I am a great supporter and advocate of space exploration, I do not understand why India is even thinking of spending billions of rupees on sending a probe to Mars to study no doubt what the Americans have already done anyway, while they have untold millions living in absolute squalor and poverty.<br />
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Seems to me a reality check and a radical review of priorities is in order.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-42160688559300059842011-12-01T21:33:00.001+00:002011-12-01T23:03:49.351+00:00Clarkson on StrikeSo Jeremy Clarkson has upset a few people by saying on TV the public sector strikers should be shot in front of their families. OK, its a rather sick thing to say, but anyone with half a brain cell must realise he was joking - which, of course he was! Unison, on the other hand were seeking urgent legal advice to see what action they could take against him, but are now reported to have accepted his apology. Just as well, as they would only be demonstrating how ridiculous and absurd they are. I have seen many on line comments from strikers deriding the union as they fully realise it was just a joke.<br />
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Anyway, what about this strike? Given that we are living through a time of high and rapidly increasing unemployment in the midst of the worst financial crisis in living memory, should the strikers not be grateful they have a job in the first place? What makes them so special that they feel they need to cause massive inconvenience and loss to others, most of whom do not have the option of their generous pensions - even allowing for the proposed changes? If they think they are hard done by they should visit Africa where they will see real poverty in every direction, making even the worst paid public servant over here look rich in comparison. They should stop whinging and show some gratitude for what they have, rather than moaning about what they think they think they won't have. Let's also not forget our servicemen who are risking and losing their lives daily and do not have the luxury of the right to strike. It's time for a reality check.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-65797196299769221152011-11-28T22:56:00.001+00:002011-11-28T23:30:16.427+00:00I'm Misha B'd off!Last night I was fuming when Misha B and Janet Devlin were at the bottom of the heap on the X - Factor Results Show. The reason I was feeling this way was because I just KNEW Janet Devlin would be voted off. In fact, as far as I was concerned they might as well have not even bothered with the "Sing - Off" - it was a foregone conclusion which way the judges would take it. <br />
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As far as I am concerned Janet Devlin is a much better singer than Misha B. Shock horror.....!!! - How can I possibly say that????? Well, I'll tell you why and it is this. Misha B is just plain boring. Yes, she has a good, powerful voice, but there is nothing special or unique about it. Its like a million other voices I have heard like that - and instantly forgettable. Janet Devlin, on the other hand, has a very quirky and distinctive voice, and one which is memorable. She has her own distinctive style, somewhat ethereal, unique and original, and one which sets her apart from the other contestants - and certainly from Misha B. <br />
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I found it particularly annoying that the judges did not vote her off purely on the basis of the sing - off, which is what I thought the sing - off was for. Its a bit like a jury finding someone guilty on the basis of something other than the evidence which was presented at the trial, and that just sucks. The songs which each of them sang were completely different in both genre, tone and style, with Janet Devlin singing a very controlled, atmospheric and emotional song, while Misha B sang an entirely predictable song which entirely relied upon the power of her voice to make it's mark. The judges followed their unspoken agenda, and duly gave Janet her marching orders. There is no way Misha B is not going to make it to the finals because the judges seem to think she will sell millions of records which she won't because she is unoriginal with nothing to define her from all the others who sound just like her. The judges will always save her because they have no imagination or appreciation of true creativity.<br />
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<br />Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-60645633076947835952011-09-24T22:42:00.000+01:002011-09-29T22:11:53.884+01:00Bible Study<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because I am an atheist, I have decided to do the right thing and read my Bible every day - as all good atheists should. Of course, being very devout I have already read the Bible through from beginning to end, but that was the Revised Standard Version. This time I decided to read the real Holy Version - you know the one - The King James Authorised Version. If it wasn't the real pucker Holy Bible it wouldn't be "authorised" would it, I mean you wouldn't authorize one that wasn't Holy would you? Of course, when you read it and you read all the "thees, thys and verilys", you just know its Holy; with language like that, well it just couldn't be anything else, could it?</div>
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Well, I 've not read a great deal yet, I'm about two thirds of the way through Exodus. Of course, everything I have read so far all makes perfect sense, like God killing all the Egyptian's cattle and livestock, and then killing them all again with hail mixed in with fire. Given they were all dead already, it takes a really Holy God to kill them all again. To be twice dead must surely be a great miracle. Strange that you don't read about the RSPCA getting involved, but then if they all decided the mass murder of all these dead already cattle was the work of a Holy God, then I suppose they would have decided to take a back seat on this one! </div>
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Of course, the Holy God of the Holy Bible is really very kind and loving - the same yesterday, today and forever - Helleluia!! He really showed his loving kindness to Pharaoh as every time he seemed minded to let the Israelites go, God hardened his heart and changed his mind again - just so that He could punish him and his poor hapless people all the more (and kill all the cattle twice), so that after a variety of plagues, God deploys His mastercard of killing all the first born of Egypt, not just people mind, oh no, but the cattle as well (offspring of twice-dead cattle - another miracle!). This loving kindness of God is staggering. Of course, if it was God who "hardened the heart" of Pharaoh, then it wasn't really Pharaoh's fault. He was just unfortunate in that by a cruel accident of birth he was not born into the chosen people of the Israelites. He couldn't help himself, and neither would any of us with such a kind and loving God pulling our strings and making us bad!</div>
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Oh well, I suppose God moves in mysterious ways.......Good job it's only fiction!</div>
Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-39900653435786489622010-12-24T17:43:00.002+00:002010-12-24T17:59:33.307+00:00Infinity againSorry about this, but I am still trying to get my head around infinity. As I stated in a recent posting, I have come to the conclusion that the universe has to be infinite. However, there is a twist to this when considering the beginning, namely the "Big Bang"; the moment it all sprang into being (I was tempted to use the word "creation" for a moment there, but decided against it in case anyone thought I was a religious nutter "creationist", the moment in which in the eyes of the more switched on reader I lose all credibility!!!!!). It is this. I stated that the distance between two objects can only ever be finite, then if we except that the universe started very small, and then expanded to its current infinite size, then it cannot be infinite, because it takes an infinite amount of time to reach an infinite size. However, I also stated that because the universe itself is everything there is (in this universe at least) including time and space, there can be no boundaries as beyond the universe there is not even nothing, and you cannot have a boundary with something which is so nothing it isn't even that!<br />
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Are you still awake? Good, then I'll continue........<br />
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My logic now leads me to conclude that although you often read that the universe was incredibly small (the "cosmic atom") at the moment of the Big Bang, for the reasons I have already stated, it still had to be infinite! Scientists talk about a period of mind blowingly rapid expansion called "inflation" which proceeded at an even faster rate than prices go up in our wonderful economy. Could it be that it was this "inflation" that brought time and space into being, and that before that in the quantum phase state of the universe space and time did not exist? During this "inflation" I can only conclude that at that instant (no time at all) the expansion of the universe began but within an infinite frame of reference. So what has been changing since then? Well, clearly not the the size of the universe as "the infinite" is infinite. I conclude that what changed was the density of the universe as everything spread out.<br />
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From whence did this spreading out proceed? Well actually, scientists say there is no central point in the universe from where it is spreading, but is actually spreading from all points in all directions. For this reason, no matter where you are in the universe, the rest of the universe will always appear to be moving away from you more or less equally in all directions, and your view of the universe will be more or less similar to our own at all observable distances. Now apply a little imagination to this scenario, it becomes apparent (to me, at least) that for this to be the case, then the universe has to be infinite. Think about it. Also, with entropy, the universe began its eventual "wind-down" to its eventual demise where all its energy has been expended and darkness rules the face of the deep.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-24239680131702073862010-12-09T23:26:00.000+00:002010-12-09T23:26:19.268+00:00Thought for the DayIf God is all powerful and upholds his creation by his mighty power, then why are our bodies so incredibly complex? If this god is so great then he does not need this complexity.......Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-74929935219691570672010-11-14T18:58:00.000+00:002010-11-14T18:58:29.277+00:00Finite Infinity ParadoxI have been giving some more thought about my <a href="http://oblogotaryreading.blogspot.com/2010/10/edge-of-forever.html">previous post</a> where I stated my belief that the universe is infinite. It has occurred to me that there is a problem here and it is this: no matter how distant two objects might be apart in the universe, the space between them can only ever be finite. Similarly, if we consider two objects which start off touching, and then start moving away from each other, in order for them to be an infinite distance from each other they need to continue moving away for an infinite length of time. However, this cannot happen because no matter how much time goes by, it will always be finite and so will the distance separating the two objects. It would therefore follow (call this McAdam's Infinity Paradox if you like - I have not read these ideas expressed anywhere else) that in an infinite universe physical objects may only approach a separation of infinite distance, but never reach it.<br />
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We now find ourselves in an infinite universe where all distances can only ever be finite.<br />
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Perhaps the idea of infinity should be viewed as a concept rather than a physical reality, and that spacial distances are actually an illusion because of our own particular limitations in our perceptive ability. Consider that two particles on the atomic scale which are super-entangled will affect each other instantly and independent of the speed of light no matter how great the separation between them. In what sense can we say that there is a spacial distance between the two particles given that they act as if there is not? Could distance itself be an illusion?Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-57277506431349431012010-11-12T10:02:00.000+00:002010-11-12T10:02:25.168+00:00Taxi of deathDriving near Heathrow last night I was shocked at the incredibly bad driving of a taxi driver.<br />
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I was waiting to enter a busy major roundabout when a London Cab shot past my right hand side with no regard whatsoever for the traffic already on the roundabout. It cut right across two cars causing them to swerve and brake violently, as well as honking their horns - as you would expect.<br />
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How do you account for such terrible driving in someone who is supposed to be a professional driver with responsibility over the lives and safety of others? If you were on a plane going on holiday and the pilot adopted the same mentality in flying the plane you would never fly again, that is of course assuming you survived the flight!<br />
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Taxi drivers have always had a bad press, and I am sure a large proportion of them are very good and do provide a professional and safe service, but unfortunately there are many, in my experience, who perpetuate the negative stereotype. I have experienced most aspects of this stereotype at various points in my life with taxi drivers being downright rude, arrogant, overcharging, not sticking to agreed pricing, and driving recklessly.<br />
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It did occur to me after last night's experience that maybe that particular taxi was actually stolen, but on the other hand, with it being a taxi, I wasn't really that surprised.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-85150997215533601022010-11-05T23:37:00.000+00:002010-11-05T23:37:08.162+00:00Shall we Dance?<div style="text-align: justify;">So its finally happened! Two women dancing together on "Strictly Come Dancing". </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If you are a regular viewer of this weekly spectacle and don't quite connect with this, the answer is because I am talking about the Israeli version of the show. The contestant is a lesbian, and the professional is not. Needless to say, the religious intolerants are up in arms. Good. This shows them up for what they are - bigoted. Reminds me of when some witches opened up a shop on my local High Street. The local religious leaders were up in arms. Good. Anything which gets their backs up is fine by me - so long as its harmless of course!!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, back to our dancing belles. As a red blooded male, I found a certain fascination watching their routine. It did seem kind of weird though, seeing two women dancing so passionately and somewhat erotically together. I can't say I found it a particular turn-on - maybe a sign of my age, or just that it was somewhat "outside the box" of my normal viewing experience. Did I find it offensive? - No. Do I want to see it again? - Not particularly, though it will no doubt appeal to some.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then I got to think a bit more about it, and it does seem that women , not just the lesbian variety, do have some rather quirky ways. Why do so many women dance together at parties? This is somewhat a common occurrence, but how often do you see men dancing together? The former is very much seen as the norm (more or less), but the latter definitely is not. Another thing women seem to like to do together at parties or other social occasions is visit the loo. What's that about? And then we come to the ultimate experience that women like to do together - shopping!!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I suppose, all in all, the latest "Strictly" development is not really so strange. How long will it be before you see two men dancing together? How outraged will the "moral high grounders" be then? How long will it be before we see this happening on our own British version of the show? Do I care? - Not really.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-57900637843950463832010-10-29T22:57:00.006+01:002010-10-29T23:19:47.415+01:00Service Please<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">There are times when I feel really frustrated and ashamed of this country. Why? - well its not because we sold Czechoslovakia down the river to the Nazis before World War 2 - no - something much closer to home than that. I am talking about manners of shop assistants and other people who stand behind counters purportedly offering a service. Not to mention the scruffy streets, yobs and drab architecture.</span><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A few years ago I took my good lady wife on a holiday to Singapore, which, as everyone knows is a shopper's paradise. Everywhere we went, people fell over themselves to serve us, with good manners, cheerfulness, enthusiasm and appreciation of the fact we were honouring them with our custom. Now, I fully realise that some of this was over the top and very pushy as we were perceived to be what we were - holiday makers with money to spend and therefore a quick business opportunity. I appreciated the fact that we were treated as important human beings and the shop keepers gave us their undivided attention until we finished our transactions - or not - bade our farewells and continued happily on our way. Of course, just about everything else about Singapore was better than here - clean streets (and I mean CLEAN), no yobs and the feeling you could walk the streets safely at night. OK, I know they have draconian laws over there to enforce all this - including the banning of chewing gum - but then so what?? - if you act in a civilised fashion you have nothing to fear. They also have an efficient, reliable and inexpensive rapid transport system to boot.</span></div><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the hotel where we stayed (The Shangri-la), we were given a free upgrade to an executive suite on arrival, treated like royalty with a warm welcome back from a staff member every time we returned from each trip out. When my wife was unwell one night, we found flowers and chocolates awaiting us the next evening. We nearly had to force our leaving tip upon them (well, actually, we did force it) as the staff protested they were only doing their job. They really knew the meaning of customer care and customer service. Being the International Globe Trotters we are, we have also visited many other countries, and while Singapore was a supreme example of good service and good everything else, we have pretty much become accustomed to various shades of good and better service wherever we go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">But then you have to come home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Returning off a holiday we arrived at Stansted Airport and joined the queue to buy rail tickets to travel the final leg of the journey home. The queue was somewhat long; there were many foreigners having difficulty making themselves understood while buying their tickets, or rather, trying to buy them. Not to worry, I thought, there were two sales windows open and the rate the queue was moving told me we would easily make the train which was not due for another 25 minutes. Suddenly, my blood ran cold, and I felt a red mist clouding over my eyes as I saw one of the windows closing - and it not being opened again. The speed of the queue halved and we could only stand in frustration as the time for our train came and went - we'd missed it! I remonstrated with the ticket seller when we finally reached the window. We received no explanation and no apology, just the couldn't care less "stuff you" attitude which seems to pervade this green and pleasant land, with no sense of customer care or loyalty. It turned out there were no more trains going via our preferred route (Peterborough) and we had to take a train back changing at Finsbury Park instead, adding about an hour onto the journey and at an extortionate extra cost for extra distance travelled on the unwanted detour.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">During a recent summer of madness I took part in an annual 46 mile walking event around Cambridgeshire. After about 15 miles I decided to call into a convenience store on route to buy some refreshments. On reaching the counter, the shop assistant, a middle aged woman, was stood gossiping with her friend stood next to her, indifferent to me - a customer - one of the people who pays her wages and keeps the shop afloat so she can have a job. She glanced at the refreshments, rang it up on the till, and told me the cost, no please, no acknowledgement of my valued custom. I gave her the money - she was just stood there with one hand held outspread for me to place the cash into, but not looking at me, just gossiping to her sidekick. I placed the cash in her hand. She quickly counted it (no "thank you") placed it into the till, and then thrust her hand under my nose again with no explanation and carried on chatting. I protested that I had paid her, and she said I still owed 10 pence (no manners, no "please"). I quickly, thrust the coin into her hand, grabbed my stuff and stomped out of the store - fuming. I wanted to scream at her, poke my fingers in her eyes and trash the joint for good measure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">A similar thing happened in another shop the other day, and many times before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">At our local corner shop, taken over by Tesco some years ago, the staff have little regard for the customers. This is partly because they have installed a couple of automated payment points, so you very often walk in at night and find no one behind the check-out. One evening I went in with my eldest son. There was a long queue of people and the auto check-outs were not working properly. Even so, the staff paid no attention to the customers at all, and continued stacking shelves and disappearing and re-appearing from the store room. In the end my son could stand it no longer and shouted loudly remonstrating his frustration. Suddenly, a very surprised looking shop assistant pitched up and some semblance of service was resumed. It probably died again after we left the store.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">A few days ago I went to a Co-op auto bank to get some cash. I went through all the procedure, feeding my card in, inputting my PIN etc, and then instead of issuing me with the cash it just spat my card back out at me. I wanted to buy a newspaper anyway, so I went into the store. At the counter I told the shop assistant what had happened. She made no comment - it was as if I had said nothing. I then said to her "Well, aren't you going to say anything? - Haven't you any advice you could give me?" I mistakenly thought she might have cared. She didn't. All I got was the usual lame response you get at all establishments where this sort of thing happens - "you will have to contact the bank". Well in this case, the bank was the Co-op and I was in the Co-op! I suggested to her that stores which have auto banks gain advantage by offering this service and it was not good enough to just fob you off with "you'll have to contact the bank" every time there is a problem. She looked at me kind of gone out - I knew I was wasting my breath.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I walked back onto the littered pavement, strewn with dog ends, shut myself into my car and drove down the street so frequently infested with yobs late at night , and travelled the final sorry mile to work with all the other wage slaves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">"This country"! as my hero Alan Partridge once so famously remarked.</span></div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-81369695240606340032010-10-18T23:49:00.002+01:002010-10-18T23:55:00.436+01:00Edge of foreverI have come to the conclusion that the Universe is infinite. My reasoning is that outside of spacetime there is an absence of absolutely everything, including empty space itself. Clearly, this is very difficult to get your head around, a bit like infinity.<br />
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It would seem to me that assuming the above to be the case, there can be no boundary or edge to the universe as you have to have something to have a boundary with, and as there is nothing, there is therefore no boundary. However, for the universe to be truly infinite in every sense of the word, then it's geometry has to be open whereby an object travelling through space and not in an orbital trajectory would never return to the start position, or cross it's previous path. The Universe may be curved , but not necessarily curved back upon itself, in other words closed. <br />
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If we take the view that the universe is infinite, then it is no surprise that life exists and I am here to write this. In an infinite universe there are infinite possibilities. The fact that life has arisen here means that it is not only likely, but a certainty that it has arisen an infinite number of times in an infinite number of places.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-514142626258189132010-08-22T23:00:00.000+01:002010-08-22T23:00:36.309+01:00Running Right.Being the supreme athlete that I am and very conscious that 2012 is just around the corner, I thought I'd better get myself a new pair of running shoes. I have been running, on and off, since I was at school, and that was so long ago even my memories of that time are in sepia!<br />
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To date, I have not exactly put much investment into the area of running shoes. I guess I've always seen such items as little more than up-market plimsolls, and so I've never exactly lashed out more than about £40 (or less) for such items. Well, the last pair I bought must be about 4 years old. However, given that time seems to rush by much more quickly when you get to my age, it was probably more like 5 or 6 years ago when I bought them. To say they were in need of replacing would be an understatement. They were visibly rotting on top and coming apart at the seams. The soles were very worn and the inside was characterised by the dried sweat of innumerable miles of running.<br />
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Of late, it has been suggested to me that I am becoming a bit of an embarrassment when competing in running events. Of course this revelation was quite a shock to me, but then, when I thought about it I decided there might be something in this. I have been wearing, for example, just about any old tee shirt which found its way to the top of the pile. Given that I'd never paid more than 3 or 4 pounds Stirling for a tee shirt in my life, I found it hard to accept that I should start spending upwards of £15 plus for a running vest. I have to say, that I was rather shown up by my eldest son in the last event we ran in together. He wore a really smart blue Nike top and if I am honest, I did look rather like someone dressed in the attire of a destitute disposition. Anyway, as it was my birthday recently, I was given a couple of proper posh running vests, all swish with very flowy material. I have to say, I am now a convert to paying extra for quality. Running in the vests is a joy, they seem to breath, with the feeling of the air flowing around my chest. Also, they do not get heavy with sweat! No doubt they will also last longer, though I do have a tendency to keep wearing clothes until way past their "use-by" date.<br />
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Today, we headed into Cambridge where I was determined to get myself a pair of decent running shoes. Now, for a long time it has been recommended to me that I should visit "Advanced Performance". The name appeals to me because, as stated I am an advanced athlete, if only with respect to my age! I suppose one thing which has been putting me off was the idea I might have to spend more than £40! Even so, feeling enlightened by the experience of my wonderful new running vests, I decided to throw caution to the winds.<br />
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Advanced Performance is different to any other sports shop I have ever visited. It is different because you get personal attention from a sports expert who is genuinely interested that you, the customer, get the best possible product available to suit your needs. This is achieved by being invited to try out various running shoes and running with them out on a tread mill. Your feet are being videoed as you run and it is then a matter of reviewing the action to see how your gait is out of true from the ideal. After repeating the process several times, you then end up with a pair of trainers which best compliment and correct your running style to achieve the best performance. In the end I had a choice of three pairs of shoes to choose from, all with similar characteristics. The final decision is based upon comfort (it should not be upon price) and looks, or any brand preference you might harbour. To make my decision I was invited to leave the store and run up and down the road. I liked the Nike shoes the best, so that's the pair I bought. They cost me a lot more than £40, but I will know it is worth it when I will no doubt burn up the opposition in my future races and bring home the medals!Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-18723320289487418972010-07-31T23:58:00.004+01:002010-08-02T18:07:45.522+01:00Right or Wrong?An argument many religious people put forward is that to have a proper sense of morals you need faith in God. Well, it is my contention that this is a load of rubbish as you can have all the faith you like in something that does not exist, but it won't make a blind bit of difference! God does not exist. Its just a very dangerous figment of the deluded imagination.<br />
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Anyway, before drifting too far off at a tangent, I guess I'd better set myself on course again.<br />
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In the Book of Genesis we find Adam and Eve, the first Man and Woman roaming the Garden of Eden blissfully ignorant of the difference between right and wrong and also blissfully ignorant of the evil trap which this so called kind and loving God had set for them. God had planted a tree in the garden, the fruit of which, once eaten would reveal the difference between right and wrong, good and evil if you will. So we find Eve suddenly being "tempted" and encouraged by a "talking snake" - yeah right - to eat of the fruit of the tree - which after a bit of conversation with the snake, she does. She also gives the fruit to Adam and suddenly they become morally aware. They are then ejected from the Garden of Eden, and Eve punished by the pain of child bearing and the poor old snake has to crawl around on his belly. Of course, as the snake is actually a snake, he doesn't exactly see this as much of a punishment!<br />
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My point is this: This "original sin" committed in the Garden of Eden has been passed down through the generations together with its consequences. This can only mean that we are all aware of right and wrong, good or evil whether or not we have faith in God. Also, you only have to look at the jaw droppingly evil atrocities committed in the name of this awful non-existent God down the ages right up to the present day, to realise that where people of faith are concerned, so called morals and knowledge of good and evil is so distorted and corrupted, that any normal person of common sense must realise that its actually religion, faith - call it what you will - which makes people commit evil in the most cold blooded and callous ways imaginable. Yes I know there are any number of atheists who commit evil deeds but at least they don't do it in the name of this so called loving, but actually thoroughly evil God. You don't have to have faith to be morally aware. If you have no faith your sense of morality is almost certainly in far better shape than any "Man of God".<br />
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One final thought, your friendly local Church is at the pink and fluffy edge of a much darker and evil system. Don't fall foul of it. Don't be deluded.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-56948432558271704772010-04-28T19:15:00.003+01:002010-04-28T19:41:35.561+01:00Time for change?I note at this time of the General Election there is a lot of talk that it is time for a change. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Thats</span> what the prevailing mood was in 1997, and look where it got us!!! This is all well and good provided the change is a change for the better, and not just more of the same - or worse.<br /><br />However, being a person who looks, sees, and observes, I have noticed that while people may well be of this state of mind, its often a different story when the change is something being asked of them, and not someone else. Nothing stays the same for ever. Systems change, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Organizations</span> change. Governments change. Companies change. The rules change. Technologies change and the way we have to do things change.<br /><br />If we are going to move forward and progress in life, in society, and as individuals, then we all have to accept change.<br /><br />For many people, particularly those set in their ways, change demanded of them comes hard, and difficult to accept. However, for those who embrace it, life is much better and holds out new and unexpected possibilities.<br /><br />However, at this point I wish to make a "health warning", and it is this: change for the sake of change is negative, counterproductive and often demoralizing. Change which is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">deliberately</span> brought about should only be for constructive reasons, and anything else is destructive.<br /><br />Ultimately, change comes to all of us whether we like it or not. Its just a fact of life - embrace it and move on.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2678479723981405090.post-12341063281558309422010-03-11T18:56:00.008+00:002010-03-12T21:43:45.322+00:00Much ado about nothingWell, golly gosh whats happened to me? I haven't posted for ages and I seem to be suffering from a severe dose of "blogger's block". I just haven't thought of anything worth writing about; just totally blank!<br /><br />I have a request: will "Anonymous" please stop sending me spurious comments. They ain't gonna get published - no way.<br /><br />So, what has been happening in my fun packed life of late? Not a lot. For the last couple of days I've been walking around like the "Elephant Man" with half my face swollen and bloated due to an abscess. It started as a slight pain in the gum above my right canine. It finished with me nearly climbing up the wall at 2.00 in the morning! Finally, I found myself in the dentist chair for root canal treatment, after a course of antibiotics. The injection to "numb me up a bit" was incredibly painful, I squirmed like I haven't squirmed before. It felt like a red hot needle going straight into my bone. The trouble was, that I couldn't detect any numbing effect and told the dentist so before he started drilling. Even so, drill he did, and did, and did.........<br /><br />Everything seemed to be OK until he started poking and scraping around inside the drilled out cavity; he hit a nerve and I nearly jumped out of the chair. He decided this was a good time to stop digging it any deeper. I did not disagree. Even so, he had to get the poison out so he squeezed my gums - hard - and it hurt like hell. I knew the poison was coming out because I could smell and taste it! I asked if I could rinse my mouth out. What I swilled out into the bowl was not pretty, some of it black. Finally he filled up the cavity and made me another appointment to come back next week. I paid £60, a fraction of the final price for the treatment. Even so, its better than losing the tooth.<br /><br />I have got the running bug again. I used to go running with a club but could not, in the end, find the free evenings to keep attending the week-night training sessions. Even so, I now train at the gym and out on the road with my eldest son who has also got the bug. We are a bit inspired by Eddie Izard's "Sports Relief" multi-marathon effort. We are not planning to match it though! Training at the moment is for the Cambridge Festival of Running 10k event in April. Last year I ran it in 52 minutes. This year I aim to finish it in less than 50 minutes. At the moment I am on track to do so.<br /><br />At the weekend I did my annual pilgrimage to "Focus on Imaging", the annual photography trade show at the NEC. Years ago it was called "Photography at Work", then they changed the name and the venue. The NEC is now it's regular home. Anyway, this year I saw a demonstration of Panasonic's 3D TV. This employed the shutter glasses system and I have to say it was really impressive. Although they weren't saying when it was going to appear in the likes of "John Lewis", but my suspicion is it'll be sometime in June - watch this space! I don't suppose I'll buy one though, as I've already said in a previous posting that I am waiting for glasses - free 3D TV before I buy one. Anyway, I haven't had my current set for very long, and I'm certainly not putting it on the scrap heap yet.<br /><br />One thing I did at the NEC which was different for me, was I bought myself a new camera. Of late, my photography exploits have pretty much gone into reverse, and I was also feeling that my current equipment is getting a bit long in the tooth. So, having given due consideration to buying a Lumix G2 - which was on show, but not on sale at the show, I opted to buy the Canon EOS 550D. It was on sale at a price which was too good to miss, so I just had to have it! Its got 18 Mega Pixels, live-view and 1080P HD video recording, including a socket for an external microphone. All I need now is to get out and take some masterpieces. I will, from time to time, publish some of the results on this blog.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17505047139214585344noreply@blogger.com0