HERE ON THE ISLAND.
The elephant in the room.
As mentioned in Post 191, during the course of a major reshuffle we transferred my computer (daughter Roz and I transporting the entire complicated contraption in one Laurel and Hardy manoeuvre) down from the first floor to my re-sited office desk in the dining room. The move went very well and the computer did not sulk.
In this house, though, computers represent the modern technological age; a topic upon which few people are less well-informed than your technology cursing correspondent. So when, of a sudden, the Barnden Snr. computer ship started to founder, a SOS was sent by house phone (I can never remember how to switch on the mobile) to son Neil who, recognising the seriousness of the situation (and with the promise of his mother’s freshly cooked cheese scones twitching at his nose), made haste to launch his computer lifeboat. Our rescue was swift and painless: the elephant in the room was the mouse.
Now it never crossed my mind that the Microsoft Wireless Mouse 5000 I was using was not constructed to last forever: the year of manufacture was 2008 and that is barely more than yesterday to me.
In the event…
I replaced the offending object with a Microsoft Wireless Mouse 5000 (New Packaging): which means what? Christ knows, but apparently it is the latest model. I bought a Speedlink silk mouse pad - dandy little grey sheet with a bitten pear shape at its centre - to go with it and everything now works a treat. What’s more, seeing as how I am in no way mainstream media, I am not compelled to finish with the words “other mice and pads are available…” So I shan’t; though they are.
Then the bombshell…
My Leader, in the meantime, invoked the female prerogative and opined that I would be better off in the first floor office upon which, with new curtains and a repaint job, she had worked a cosmetic miracle.
I made a few half-hearted objections (I have always liked that little room) but she said I spend more time at my computer than she does at her needlework so it only made sense that I should go back there.
Then came the bombshell. Though we were still struggling to recover from our last upheaval (and bearing in mind that she still very much needs her stick when walking) last Friday evening this anything-but-boring Leader suggested she and I might tackle the second move, just the two of us, over the weekend!
To say the least of it I was dubious: but on Saturday morning we got started and by Sunday afternoon, with family help in removing surplus-to-requirements stuff from the premises, we were pretty much back to the cheerful mayhem that we call home.
Last item to be moved: my computer…
Neil moved it. Brought it back upstairs and set it up and it sulked. Simply refused to work. Finally he departed, nonplussed, with the promise that he would return on Monday and take it to his office at Stainless (who recently had great news on the Carmageddon Reincarnation front - Google: Stainless secures $3.5m…for full story). A Stainless’s computer boffin, I was assured, would sort it out in seconds.
At half past five on Monday morning I went downstairs to the telephone power point, unplugged the defunct telephone-to-computer downstairs line (which I had somehow overlooked when the computer was moved) plugged in its upstairs t. to c. counterpart, came back, switched on and watched as, after a brief pause for effect, the recalcitrant computer sullenly came back to life.
Neil said the phone line wouldn’t have caused that much trouble and there is probably an intermittent fault in the on-off switch; but, now it’s functioning, best leave it alone.
Me? I’m always happy to leave technology alone.
IN LONDON.
The school kids in the Commons.
They were back in force for the budget, the school kids in the Commons; braying and caterwauling over the Chancellor’s budget speech and being benignly berated throughout by the Deputy Speaker, a fine north country comedian named Lindsay Hoyle. Watch out for him; he’s the best thing in the Commons since Betty Boothroyd.
In the meantime both the plebgate loudmouth and the parliamentary bar room brawler (I won't soil my blog index with their names) continue to cause all sorts of trouble for law and order, which they and their cronies obviously think themselves way above.
I know I’ve said it before, but William Golding must surely have had Westminster in mind when he wrote Lord of the Flies.
Stefano Hatfield leaving i.
The executive editor of i, Stefano Hatfield, has posted news of his impending departure from that neat little newspaper. It appears he has been made editorial director of London Live, a new television channel and the first digital terrestrial station aimed solely at the city. Now I have no idea what an editorial director does, but I presume it will be something of considerable importance and influence in the organisation and clearly those heading it know him to be the man for the job. Well, they would; two-and-a-half years ago they chose him to edit i, which they also own and which is, it would seem, the only current newspaper with a growing circulation.
My Leader and I will miss his daily ‘letter.‘ wish him every success in the new job and pray to God he doesn’t introduce another Jeremy Kyle onto the jam-packed television talk show scene. Even Londoners don’t deserve that. Whoever replaces him at i will have a hard act to follow and will probably not have a daughter who can write a damn good article about the Warner Brothers London (Harry Potter) studio tour.
All the best, Stefano Hatfield.
AND IN SCOTLAND.
A change at the right time?.
News this morning that the eight police regions in Scotland are to be merged into one at midnight tonight. Police Scotland will be headed by the first Chief Constable of Police Scotland and will become effective on the 1st April 2013, April Fool’s Day. Seems appropriate, don‘t it?
TELEVISION.
Mayday. (BBC1)
Opinions are bound to vary, but well-respected critics can sometimes leave me wondering whether they and I watched the same programme. We enjoyed this little drama. It was shown on successive afternoons over five days and told of events following the sudden disappearance of a teenage May Queen. Perhaps the red herrings were piled a bit too high, but a strong cast worked hard to prevent risibility.
Most of the critics panned it. Ah well…
Broadchurch. (ITV1)
This thriller was initially aired at the same time as Mayday: Kudos had a hand in both productions, but Broadchurch is being shown in eight weekly episodes and stars David Tennant, an extremely popular actor. A strong cast works hard to prevent us becoming too bored to look in next week . We are quite enjoying it, but no more than we enjoyed Mayday. Most of the critics are bowled over by it. Ah well…
Lightfields. (ITV)
From the outset, this five parter - set over three time frames and involving a mildly creepy haunting - was not designed to appeal to me, so it took another strong, hard-working cast to retain my attention,
By the end we (my Leader and I) really did want to know who was to blame for Lucy’s tragic death, even if it was everybody and nobody.
And the critics? Ah well…
SAD FOOTNOTE.
Richard Griffiths OBE (1947 - 2013)
Was saddened to hear of the death of actor Richard Griffiths on March the 28th.. Equally at home in an array of diverse roles, he was never a man to be typecast by his considerable size and was clearly respected by all who worked with him. As viewers, we loved his Henry Crabbe in the television series Pie In the Sky and loathed his Uncle Vernon (the worst sort of Muggle) in the Harry Potter films.
His departure will leave a king-sized gap in the world of British acting.
The elephant in the room.
In this house, though, computers represent the modern technological age; a topic upon which few people are less well-informed than your technology cursing correspondent. So when, of a sudden, the Barnden Snr. computer ship started to founder, a SOS was sent by house phone (I can never remember how to switch on the mobile) to son Neil who, recognising the seriousness of the situation (and with the promise of his mother’s freshly cooked cheese scones twitching at his nose), made haste to launch his computer lifeboat. Our rescue was swift and painless: the elephant in the room was the mouse.
Now it never crossed my mind that the Microsoft Wireless Mouse 5000 I was using was not constructed to last forever: the year of manufacture was 2008 and that is barely more than yesterday to me.
In the event…
I replaced the offending object with a Microsoft Wireless Mouse 5000 (New Packaging): which means what? Christ knows, but apparently it is the latest model. I bought a Speedlink silk mouse pad - dandy little grey sheet with a bitten pear shape at its centre - to go with it and everything now works a treat. What’s more, seeing as how I am in no way mainstream media, I am not compelled to finish with the words “other mice and pads are available…” So I shan’t; though they are.
Then the bombshell…
My Leader, in the meantime, invoked the female prerogative and opined that I would be better off in the first floor office upon which, with new curtains and a repaint job, she had worked a cosmetic miracle.
I made a few half-hearted objections (I have always liked that little room) but she said I spend more time at my computer than she does at her needlework so it only made sense that I should go back there.
Then came the bombshell. Though we were still struggling to recover from our last upheaval (and bearing in mind that she still very much needs her stick when walking) last Friday evening this anything-but-boring Leader suggested she and I might tackle the second move, just the two of us, over the weekend!
To say the least of it I was dubious: but on Saturday morning we got started and by Sunday afternoon, with family help in removing surplus-to-requirements stuff from the premises, we were pretty much back to the cheerful mayhem that we call home.
Last item to be moved: my computer…
Neil moved it. Brought it back upstairs and set it up and it sulked. Simply refused to work. Finally he departed, nonplussed, with the promise that he would return on Monday and take it to his office at Stainless (who recently had great news on the Carmageddon Reincarnation front - Google: Stainless secures $3.5m…for full story). A Stainless’s computer boffin, I was assured, would sort it out in seconds.
At half past five on Monday morning I went downstairs to the telephone power point, unplugged the defunct telephone-to-computer downstairs line (which I had somehow overlooked when the computer was moved) plugged in its upstairs t. to c. counterpart, came back, switched on and watched as, after a brief pause for effect, the recalcitrant computer sullenly came back to life.
Neil said the phone line wouldn’t have caused that much trouble and there is probably an intermittent fault in the on-off switch; but, now it’s functioning, best leave it alone.
Me? I’m always happy to leave technology alone.
IN LONDON.
The school kids in the Commons.
In the meantime both the plebgate loudmouth and the parliamentary bar room brawler (I won't soil my blog index with their names) continue to cause all sorts of trouble for law and order, which they and their cronies obviously think themselves way above.
I know I’ve said it before, but William Golding must surely have had Westminster in mind when he wrote Lord of the Flies.
Stefano Hatfield leaving i.
The executive editor of i, Stefano Hatfield, has posted news of his impending departure from that neat little newspaper. It appears he has been made editorial director of London Live, a new television channel and the first digital terrestrial station aimed solely at the city. Now I have no idea what an editorial director does, but I presume it will be something of considerable importance and influence in the organisation and clearly those heading it know him to be the man for the job. Well, they would; two-and-a-half years ago they chose him to edit i, which they also own and which is, it would seem, the only current newspaper with a growing circulation.
My Leader and I will miss his daily ‘letter.‘ wish him every success in the new job and pray to God he doesn’t introduce another Jeremy Kyle onto the jam-packed television talk show scene. Even Londoners don’t deserve that. Whoever replaces him at i will have a hard act to follow and will probably not have a daughter who can write a damn good article about the Warner Brothers London (Harry Potter) studio tour.
All the best, Stefano Hatfield.
AND IN SCOTLAND.
A change at the right time?.
News this morning that the eight police regions in Scotland are to be merged into one at midnight tonight. Police Scotland will be headed by the first Chief Constable of Police Scotland and will become effective on the 1st April 2013, April Fool’s Day. Seems appropriate, don‘t it?
TELEVISION.
Mayday. (BBC1)
Opinions are bound to vary, but well-respected critics can sometimes leave me wondering whether they and I watched the same programme. We enjoyed this little drama. It was shown on successive afternoons over five days and told of events following the sudden disappearance of a teenage May Queen. Perhaps the red herrings were piled a bit too high, but a strong cast worked hard to prevent risibility.
Most of the critics panned it. Ah well…
Broadchurch. (ITV1)
This thriller was initially aired at the same time as Mayday: Kudos had a hand in both productions, but Broadchurch is being shown in eight weekly episodes and stars David Tennant, an extremely popular actor. A strong cast works hard to prevent us becoming too bored to look in next week . We are quite enjoying it, but no more than we enjoyed Mayday. Most of the critics are bowled over by it. Ah well…
Lightfields. (ITV)
From the outset, this five parter - set over three time frames and involving a mildly creepy haunting - was not designed to appeal to me, so it took another strong, hard-working cast to retain my attention,
By the end we (my Leader and I) really did want to know who was to blame for Lucy’s tragic death, even if it was everybody and nobody.
And the critics? Ah well…
SAD FOOTNOTE.
Richard Griffiths OBE (1947 - 2013)
His departure will leave a king-sized gap in the world of British acting.
