Missive From ‘Merica: The Eclectic Metric

Cade the Okie Devil in Text US has sent through his first missive of 2018…

*/taps fingertips together with excitement… I think so too, Clicky… I can feel it in my water…*

Catch you bottom, Dear Reader… Enjoy! ❤

*******

This one is gonna be a shade different.

Is that OK with you? Good.

The following was written on last Tuesday…

=======================================================

Hi.

It’s Monday January 2rdst of 2018.

Let’s get to it.

^ATTLAS – Chemical Low Moan^

If the road isn’t serving your needs?

Divide it.

You’ve the right of way…right?

^deadmau5 – Saved^

A certain someone has been picking at my smallish brain about proceedural types of considerations in certain environments. Such as “English” being the “common language” amongst pilots/aviators. I live in a country that speaks English for the most part, so speaking English while flying kinda makes sense to me. I’ve been abroad, so speaking English while flying makes sense to me, but also kinda not.

That said, aviation has its own vernacular. Things borrowed from elsewhere or created out of necessity to represent something specific. No real mystery there because we do that everywhere…but…it’s certainly mysterious.

Or at least, it can be. 

But the objective is communications and communicating. We rely on each other to pull that off. As to whether or not the communications are successful? Let’s wait until we are either safely in the air, or safely on the ground to discuss the particulars…k?

^Matt Lange – You’ll Remember Me (ATTLAS Remix)^

Communications are going to get crossed. Garbled. Misunderstood. To expect 100% is the same as expecting 0% because there are no margins for error. No room for forgiveness. No room to navigate in the moment. That seems to present a domino type of situation where all involved are equally responsible, which means they are potentially equally irresponsible. Or am I being too specific?

^ATTLAS – Burned^

There was a Tweet that caught my eye…

I’ve been thinking about the resonance of metal(s) and stone(s), and other building materials as is pertains to construction. But more than that, I’ve been thinking about transportation of these same things.

Q: Does the Earth/Terra notice when something is moved?

A: !!!

Why wouldn’t our planet know when something is missing? Why wouldn’t our planet notice when something suddenly appears? There seems to be accommodation(s) made in the environment for things to appear and disappear…right? So…all that gold in, say, Kentucky, would you be willing to entertain the possibility that our planet knows where every atom of gold in Kentucky came from?

If so, do you really want to trace that knowing of when and where that gold came from for the entirety of the suspected 13.8 billion year age of our Universe? Might wanna think about carbon and your dating methods before answering. You might get lost in time somewhere.

Just sayin'
^How to Disappear Completely – Radiohead Cover^

This one is gonna be a shade different.

Is that OK with you? Good.

The following was written today, which is today.

j/k

Today, is Sunday January 7th, 2018.

The above is as far as I got last Tuesday. It was a weird week. Having trouble thinking. It’s like another one of those transitional phases where everything is shifting. Or at least, everything is shifting in my head. When this happens, it’s almost like playing catchup with myself in my head. Loads of shit that I’ve not thought about in a while comes crashing in, and I’ve gotta kinda reconcile what falls where as it relates to stuff that I’ve added.

Normally, I would kinda keep this sort of shit “under control” by reading and commenting on blogs elsewhere, along with writing missives/whatevers. But I’ve been avoiding that.

Meh...whatever.
^ATTLAS – Tiff’s Theme^

So yeah…onward…from here…

=======================================================

Q: Is a nuclear weapon fluid?

A: ???

No? The how did it come together? How did something, that is designed specifically to come apart, come together, if it is not fluid?

Oh…and good morning to you.

^Echobelly – Kali Yuga^

Was just watching a documentary on Rocky Flats weapons plant in Colorado…USA. In it, there was a bit where the plant had tried to dispose of waste by mixing it with concrete, then storing it in blocks after the concrete dried. Um…we’re talking about radioactive shit here…right?

Rocky Flats Plant

Rocky Flats Truth Force

Dark Circle (Film)

Unfortunately, the concrete blocks started to leak and/or melt.

Oozey. 

So now, they are oozing radioactive shit everywhere, from a long-term storage area. I wonder if it rains in Colorado?

^Albert Hammond – It never rains in southern California + text^

Got to thinking about this new Counter-Social website that is supposed to be some alternative to Twitter because the latter blocks half the planet from using the website. I thought about it, mainly because I was kinda curious as to how it was working out for those that switched from Twitter to Counter-Social when all that…whatever it was…happened.

Just…how’s it going? Nothing more than that. But as I started to think about asking, something occurred to me, and as I type this, even more is occurring to me. But what first occurred to me is “why jump ship, just because there is suddenly an alternative that seems better?”

Three Sisters (Oregon)

It’s your life, you can do whatever you want with it, and you don’t need me to tell you that. But whitelisting and blacklisting is nothing new to The Internet.

Whitelist

Blacklisting

Greylisting

IUCN Red List

Seems we are big on lists and listings.

Angle Of List

Seems we are REALLY big on lists and listings.

^Al Stewart – Year Of The Cat^

It’s never…the machine.

Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire

March 25th 1911.

It’s never…the machine’s fault.

The reason? Welp, when shit breaks…you can’t get your hands around the throat of the guy who designed the sewing machine. You can’t get your hands around the guy who built the machine. You can’t get your hands around the neck of the guy who designed or built the part within the machine that failed. You can only get your hands around the neck of the guy who bought the machine…and that’s YOU.

You can't choke yourself to death. 

The machine that sits atop the machines must run, and you are the machine that runs the machines. There must be someone else to blame. So…let’s find them, and make them pay.

Fault

Once the fault has been established…

                   all we gotta do now…

is tear them a new one.

^Triangle Fire | PBS American Experience^

There’s only one way to “not”.

Don’t.

Knot that up, remember it, or not, whatevz.

😉
^AL STEWART “Time Passages”^

Dunno where this song came from, and I hate this type of music, but…meh. Someone else might like it.

^Karen Peck & New River – Everybody’s Going Through Something^

Is January too late to keep “The Christmas Spirit” going? I thought of mentioning to whatshername that she might wanna consider taking the Christmas lights down by February. They are still up, still plugged in, still burning every night.

Doesn’t bother me – I love Christmas lights – but the city that I live in starts ticketing people in February if Christmas lights are not taken down. And I mean like they have people drive around during the day to check and see if there are still exterior Christmas lights on your home or in your yard. If so, they ticket you. Maybe that’s why “The Christmas Spirit” hauls ass after New Years.

/me shrugs
^Carol of the Bells – Amazing Piano Solo – David Hicken^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Christmas 2013: Inside a Chinese toy factory^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Electronic Toy Market – Yiwu China Futian Market^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Wholesale toys market in Guangzhou on Yide street^

For some people, their business is Christmas 365/366 days a year. Nooooo…I’m not talking about those weirdos at The North Pole.

^Guangzhou Dream Factory – Trailer^

Ever watch a silent movie? Welp…NOW YOU CAN!!!

^Guangzhou (Canton) China in 1930^

How’d those fucks get up to The North Pole anyway? Don’t those assholes know, that the only way to get from one continent to another is via the land bridge provided by/near The Bering Straight? You can’t walk on ice. That shit melts.

Only humans are smart enough to know this.
^Bering Land Bridge Migration Theory^

If these ancient fucks were smart, they’d build a rocket, walk across the satellites, then parachute back to Earth/Terra. It’s the only way to get to where you are going. Which… where are you going?

Or is it none of my business.
^Why We May Not Be Able to Visit Space in the Future^

Did you know, that if all ice on Earth/Terra melts, we will all be dead. That means, we won’t be able to make and/or watch panic videos anymore.

😦
^How Will Earth Change If All the Ice Melts?^
How accurate were those in 1950 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2000 CE?

How accurate were those in 1968 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2018 CE?

How accurate were those in 2018 CE at predicting what life would be like in 2050 CE?

I guess we’ll find out on that last one…unless we’ve all long since drown.

I wonder if someone or something can drown in garbage?
^These Are the Events That Will Happen Before 2050^

Let’s ask Google a question…

Q: How heavy is CO2?

A: Carbon dioxide has one carbon atom and two oxygen atoms, and a molecular weight of 44 grams per mole. Hence, carbon dioxide has a higher density, or is heavier than air.

Let’s ask Quora a question…

Which is heavier air or carbon dioxide?

Wait…didn’t we get the same answer from both places? Meh…who cares. Anyway…I wonder what “the electrical content” is within air? All that shit floating around up there HAS to create a fuckton of friction. Doesn’t friction create static electricity?

Static

Static Electricity

Welp…if all this shit is moving, what is so “static” about it? Or is that the mystery. How shit moves, without moving at all, all while…moving.

(gulp...weird)

Movement (Clockwork)

Speaking of movements, I need to go take a shit…BRB.

^20 Signs You Are Being Gaslighted! Psychological Abuse by Narcissists & Sociopaths^

AH!!! I feel refreshed!!!

Um…can robots shit? Or do they rely completely, and totally, on you to keep their fluid levels where they need to be and keep their asses wiped for them? There is something to be said about the art of shit…

Poop

Turds
Dookie

Growlers

Scat

Stool

Fecal matter

DOO DOO!!! DOO YOU NOT HAVE ENOUGH WORDS FOR METABOLIC WASTE?!?!?!?

Feces

Anyway, there are quite a few nested processes in place that involve repackaging last night’s dinner for something/someone else. I dunno what you ate last night, but it prolly looked a shade better when you shoved it into your pie hole than it did when it came out.

And yet, were you to shit in your front yard for a few months, you’d have the best looking lawn in the neighborhood in no time. Might not have any neighbors around to see it cause they’ve all moved…but a nice lawn nonetheless. If you are on a septic system, that’s how you can tell if your septic tank is leaking. The grass around it will be growing like mad, and it will be tall and green. Prolly trying to get away from your stinky poo.

But yeah, not much goes into in/out considerations for robots in robotics…it’s all about the brain and smarts. Prolly stings to a robot to not have any way to relate as to what is transpiring and what a person is going through when they take a shit. So with that in mind, and thinking about all the other differences between humans and robots, how well can we ever really relate?

I've no idea.
^Broken Social Scene – Protest Song (Official Audio)^

So…how can something survive supporting it’s own weight?

So…how can something survive supporting it’s own wait?

Roob pointed out Lamb Waves to me the other day. Something I had added to a Missive/Whatever sometime back. That has been thinking about distances more than anything. I’m thinking fluidity and solidity here, but a more progressive type that is contextual based on the observer/participant.

EX: Air is heavy as fuck. But you typically need wind in your face to detect this. That’s why any and all objects that are dropped from altitude, will tumble. The only way around this, is to know this in advance, and accommodate the mechanics of it, depending on what you are dropping.

Such as…

Phoenix Shot Tower

That’s why rifling in the barrel of a firearm helps a bullet to not tumble as it falls.

And yes...a bullet is falling.

Rifling

Dew Point

Dew…Point.

Doo…Point.

Coincidence?

Coincidense is more like it.

I’m kinda dumb, and slow too, so it takes a while for my dumb and stupid to catch up to one another.

😉
^Cocteau Twins – Donimo^

It’s currently 11:03 on Sunday January 7th 2018, and I’ve stumbling around on the above crap for a coupla hours now. But I’ve got some shit to get to. Such as… It was hinted at, that perhaps, I should read my recent short story aloud and record it.

I re-read most of it last night, and thought about how I would read it aloud. The conclusion that I came to, is that I would read it exactly as I heard it in my head as I wrote it. Granted, I’ve re-read the story several times, have noticed some things that I would change in order to better help a reader understand what I am talking about, but there are few of these. I don’t want to be patronizing to the reader. Not trying to be condescending either, but I also want to tell my story.

The only way I can do that, is to actually tell my story. Only I know what I was thinking as I wrote it and, as I wrote it, I found that I was omitting as much, if not more, than I was actually writing. But in thinking about it now, we can’t do everything at once. I mean, the point is getting there…right? Sure, being there is great…but we gotta get there to do that. Lotta twists and turns, and a lotta boring straightaways mixed in there too.

^Soulwax – Do You Want To Get Into Trouble? (Official Video)^

In a few minutes, I’m gonna fire up Audacity, and see if I can record me reading my story using my headphones, which has a microphone.

Audacity (Audio Editor)

I’m gonna do a few quick test recordings, see how the audio sounds, then go from there. If it works, I’m gonna read each section, convert the Audacity MP3 file to MP4, then upload it to YouTube.

Comparison Of Free Software For Audio

I gotta be mindful of the audio file size, because when I recently tried to transfer some of my music from analog to digital, the MP3 to MP4 file converter didn’t handle files around 100MB very well. In fact, it didn’t handle them at all. Not knocking the service, because the service is awesome.

100MB of audio to convert from one format to another is a tall order for a free online service. I’ll just have to be mindful of how big the audio files are, because I’ve no idea how long it will take for me to read it aloud. That’s why breaking it up section by section is prolly gonna be the way to go. Audio files tend to be huge as you work with them, and it takes a fuckton of compression to get the file size down to something more palatable.*

*This is in no way to imply that listening to me talk will be palatable. I’ve a really bad Texas accent, and several speech impediments that I’ve learned to accommodate and/or hide very well. Or at least, sometimes. No telling when they are going to crop up, which they tend to when I lose myself in what I am doing, and I am not being mindful of trying to put on an act for someone else.

^Birdy – Wings (Nu:Logic Remix)^

Could sound assist us in determining age? I got to speaking with Roob the other day about these Lamb Waves, and it got me to thinking about chasing phantoms. Meaning, if science and/or scientists are not studies of history, or at least somewhat of a study of histories, how can they be sure they are not chasing our own shadows?

The resonance of nuclear detonations HAS to still be resonating within our planet. Not to mention all of the drilling, all of the mining, all of the commercial blasting, all of the cars, all of the ships, all of the electricity and electrical gadgetry…that shit adds up.

^Chapterhouse – Pearl^

I am just wondering, at what point, are we discovering shit, that we actually created. We are rushing from discovery to discovery, and the time to actually look at these discoveries and compare them with others…is anyone doing that? Or is that left to “the fringe” idiots of global warming and conspiracy? Because I got news for you…

everything is valid at some point. 

Truth, falsehoods, doesn’t matter. A falsehood needs to be true, in order for it to be false. Get your head wrapped around that concept, and you can prolly see why the need for absolute divisions between the concepts of good and evil are perceived to exist.

^Aircrash Bureau – Time To Die (1990)^

Should we summarize and see where we made it to?

Never done that before.

Let’s skip it.

You’re more than capable of doing your own homework.

I suck at it.

🙂

^The Cure: The Snakepit^

I got a parting query…

Q: Can you be anything you aren’t?

A: ?¿?

Lemme word that differently…

Q: Can you be anything you cannot be?

A: ¿?¿

Yeah…both are valid pretty much. Of course, it depends on who you ask.

May wanna exercise judgement there as to who to ask, and who not to ask.

Might get punched in the nose.

Some angry people out there.

So I’m told anyway.

/me shrugs
^Rocky Flats “Secrets of a Bomb Factory”^

cYacFa

^The Cure – Prayers For Rain^

*******

rcq3o

*/rolls eyes… Yeah, I know you can Clicky…*

Happy New Year you Dear Reader, and a Happy New Year, Cade ❤ …Have a Song…

Nasty Nazis and the Not-Sees

Dear Reader, I’ve decided. After a lot of thought, I’m plumping for 1st July 2007 as the date the fourth and final turning of the Millennial Saeculum probably occurred.

Regular visitors to the LoL may know that I’ve mentioned The Fourth Turning before, but if you’ve missed those posts, they can be found by…

Clicky speaks

*/jumps… Oh hello, Clicky! Don’t sneak up on me like that… Ah, you’ve got the link. Excellent! …pats snout… I’m writing a post for any Not-Sees out there…*

*Thanks! …/inhales… Well, there’s a lot of blathering going on in politics and media right now about nasty Nazis… /exhales… Seems pretty much up for grabs…*

*Naturally, I replied… /drags…*

*/blows smoke ring… And ‘the Law‘ has been relaxed, somewhat…*

*Exactly! Michael has spoken …/cough… I’d thought I’d see if I can’t help some of them Not-Sees to maybe, I dunno… /taps ash… look past the trees for once…*

*/sharp intake of breath…*

*Well, quite! History doesn’t repeat but it does rhyme… /exhales… And if you will religiously and unquestioningly implement and apply a nasty Nazi ideal… Well, just be careful what you wish for, that’s what I say… /puffs away… Anyway, I thought I’d give it another go…*

*/sigh… Prolly… /stubs butt…*

Dear Reader, the previous fourth turning occurred in the Great Power Saeculum…

The Great Depression & World War II (Fourth Turning, 1929–1946) began suddenly with the Black Tuesday stock-market crash. After a three-year economic free fall,
the Great Depression triggered the New Deal revolution, a vast expansion of government, and hopes for a renewal of national community. After Pearl Harbor,
America planned, mobilized, and produced for war on a scale that made possible the massive D-Day invasion (in 1944). Two years later, the crisis mood eased with America’s surprisingly trouble-free demobilization.

… The parallels are there to see

*Mm… Orange is a Shining colour, Clicky…*

Fanta originated as a result of difficulties importing Coca-Cola syrup into Nazi Germany during World War II due to a trade embargo.To circumvent this, Max Keith, the head of Coca-Cola Deutschland (Coca-Cola GmbH) during the war, decided to create a new product for the German market, using only ingredients available in Germany at the time, including whey and apple pomace—the “leftovers of leftovers”, as Keith later recalled. The name was the result of a brief brainstorming session, which started with Keith’s exhorting his team to “use their imagination” (Fantasie in German), to which one of his salesmen, Joe Knipp, immediately retorted “Fanta!”

It seems to me, Dear Reader, that Tobacco Control is the ultimate propaganda leftover of stale leftovers from the original Nasty Nazis… Can you knot-see?

tumblr_m2g0hb0aca1r24z09o1_r1_500

*Clicky, you read my mind… /flicks lighter… You know… /chases tip… I read last night that quite a lot of Not-sees on the Left…

*…/puffs… are experiencing PTSD… ‘President Trump Stress Disorder… /sniggers… Smoke, don’t smoke? …/shrugs… Perhaps what they really need is massage…*

*Invigorating…*

Enjoy your Friday evening, Dear Reader, and… Have a Song 😉

Sissification Of A Generation

Previously at the LoL
CLICKY: No madder than…

I’d been thinking about writing again on The Fourth Turning when Thoughtful Man sent me a video yesterday morning via Arse-about-Face Book. It showed one Millennial dissecting the views of another…

The Millennial Generation (Hero, born 1982–2004) first arrived amid “Babies on Board” signs, when abortion and divorce rates ebbed, the popular culture recast babies as special, and hands-off parental styles were replaced by Lamaze and attachment-parenting obsessiveness. Child abuse and child safety became hot topics, while books teaching virtues, values, and team-playing citizenship became best-sellers.

Perhaps that explains…

Virtue Signalling

signal (n.) late 14c., “visible sign, indication,” from Old French signal, seignal “seal, imprint, sign, mark,” from Medieval Latin signale “a signal,” from Late Latin signalis (adj.) “used as a signal, pertaining to a sign,” from Latin signum “identifying mark, sign” (see sign (n.)). Restricted sense “agreed-upon sign” (to commence or desist, etc.) is from 1590s. Meaning “modulation of an electric current” is from 1855.

When I think of the previous Hero generation (born 1901 – 1924) that came of age during the last Fourth/Winter/Crisis Turning (1929 – 1945)…

*Hmm… anything on ‘values from 80 years ago, Clicky?*

*Interesting. How about child safety?*

*Ha!*

As Millennials began reaching their teens in the late 1990s, youth volunteering and community service surged—while teen rates of drinking, smoking, and violent crime declined steeply.

Appeasement didn’t work before, it’s doubtful it will work any better this time and I have to wonder what effect the hyperbolic Health education campaigns started the 1980s to protect ‘the children’ by ‘denormalising‘ smoking has had to the Heroes of today and their ability to accurately assess risk…

Sissy

Enough of cowards for tonight, Dear Reader. Have a Song…

Daze Of Yore…

I thought that today I would start with a Song, Dear Reader, as this post will feature an extract from the scribblings mum was writing for me and my sister Juju before she died. It’s about her mother, Eileen… my Nanny Packer

*******

Extract from ‘A Family History for Ruth and Julia (Gawd ‘Elp Us!**)’, a.k.a. ‘The Ma Papers’ by Judith Eileen Newton (formerly Shewan, née Packer)

Now comes the hard part, my immediate family. Do I write nicely or do I write warts and all?

What can I say about Eileen? My Mum was a lovely lady even though I had loads of ups and downs with her. She was funny and intelligent and very obstinate. In a way I feel that she was held down all her life, and had quite a big chip on her shoulder because of it. She was the second eldest daughter and because Mary, the eldest, was living with her Grandmother (referred to as Grammum), a lot was put on Eileen’s shoulders work-wise; she felt that she had been a skivvy all her life.

She always believed she was plain and Ann, who was born only ten months after her, was the pretty one, getting more attention than her. She remembers that she was bony and never smiled, and that Ann was cuddly and fluffy, using her charms to get out of doing things.

Nanny Alger kept having children so the brunt of the work fell onto Eileen. She gave birth to fourteen children but Eileen remembers her mother as always being pregnant. There were several miscarriages and often Eileen was sent off to the chemist with a note, a shilling and a cup. She would bring back some liquid for her mother to take. Although she never knew what it was, I think it was a substance called ‘slippery elm‘, which was an age old remedy for unwanted pregnancies (it was still around when I was fertile I never had to take it because the pill was out but it might still be around now).

I just watched an episode of ‘Rome‘ and I believe that was what was used on a poor lady so it probably used for hundreds of years.

Eileen left school at 14 years old and went to work at Peek Freans. Apparently the factory came to the school to see all the girls and took them all on to work at the factory, which was in Drummond Road. Then they sacked all the 18 year olds because they had to pay adult rates at 18, replacing them with 14 year olds. People say ‘the good old days’ but imagine having no security or education, and knowing that you were like cattle rather than individuals.

Incidentally they had no secondary schools or further education in those days unless you had money. You started school at 5, if your parents were that way inclined, and left at 14. The boys, if they were lucky, were taken on as apprentices and parents had to sign papers called indentures (no, Julia, nothing to do with teeth lol). They had to work for the employers for 5 years and then they had an exam to prove that they were qualified in their skills, before being sent into the big wide world to ply their trade. A carpenter or electrician or tailor would take a new boy on every year. Those boys and their parents considered themselves lucky if they were indentured. And you can see how women were kept down – the only choice was factory work, maids, or waitressing. Remember it was not that long after women’s suffrage.

Because of the area they lived in was right on the docks, lots of the boys’ dads were dockers or stevedores, and they had to have a ticket to work. It was always a foregone conclusion that the a boy would get a job in the docks if his father worked there, as it was usually kept in the family. Funnily enough none of Granddad Alger’s sons wanted to work in the docks.

God I do digress

Eileen for some reason was not put on the production line but in the kitchen of the staff canteen. I think it was because of Aunt Mary, who already worked there – she pulled strings through her husband and got Eileen an easier job (I would rather be on the production line any day). I think it was because Mary thought they would get more to eat if Eileen was in the kitchen because food a home was not plentiful; adequate but certainly not plentiful.

Can you imagine living in a house that was straining at the seams and just Granddad Alger Working? You had a breakfast and an evening meal. No crisps, no chocolate bars, no fizzy drinks. Life was barren, but fortunately Eileen would buy 6 penny worth of broken biscuits, the only luxury.

Eileen had no choice: Nanny Alger was dependent on her wages and that’s how life was in those days. She carried on for a couple of years and then one day she prepared prunes and custard for afters, and instead of prunes she opened a tin of pickled walnuts and served them up with custard. She got the sack. She was coming up to 18 anyway, so got herself a job with J Lyons and Co as a waitress. In those days Joe Lyons had a tea shop in every high street, and he also had posh tea shops in the West End called Corner Houses. The high street shops were very reasonable.

Ordinary people used them all the time if they had the money, but the Corner Houses were special for high days and holidays. You could walk through the ground floor and posh sales assistants would sell you special handmade chocolates, beautiful gateaux and deli like smoke salmon and such. Even when I was a teenager they were still around but they were self service places by then.

The waitresses were called ‘Nippies‘ because they gave fast and quick service (take that how you will), and Eileen was fast, so was quickly promoted to Gold Star Waitress. She was sent all over the country, wherever she was needed. She even went on a course in Jersey somewhere. She was born in 1910 and in those days manpower was cheap and service was expected at all times. She even served at the Ideal Home Exhibition when Edward the 8th came for the opening.

There was not a lot to do in those days for leisure except going to the pictures, parading up and down looking good, and the odd, rare dance. Eileen was really into fashion and always had her clothes made in the East End, but she said she always got the rough boy and Ann got the handsome one. The pictures of her show her looking very smart and she was good looking, but she never smiled and it makes her look standoffish.

Funny but I always had the same problem, people in the street would say to me, “cheer up it might never happen!” when I was perfectly happy and not aware I looked miserable. Julia is the same – we have just got miserable faces, I suppose. Ruth on the other hand lives in a world of her own and is totally oblivious to anybody even calling out…

*******

*Ah, so he was knot King then, Clicky?*

I have another post brewing on The Fourth Turning, Dear Reader, so will be back soon with that. In the meantime, do enjoy the flowers placed on the sidebar, sent from The Okie Devil, as described in his last missive

… And enjoy the Song ❤

Tales of the Logistician’s Logistician: Calendar Girl

previously-at-the-lol
Clicky for the joy of abseiling

Recently I joined Arse-about-Facebook and was pleasantly surprised to see that a former colleague had added photos of what had been a little project I’d managed at the start of the 21st Century: The Staff Calendar. Having newly joined the company, it proved to be an excellent way to find out the full extent of the services offered to clients, and some of the faces that implemented those services, ensuring their smooth running.

It started one day as I sat behind Big Boss’s desk. He was out and about, as was his norm, so I taken the opportunity to eat my lunch in his cool, dark office. I was searching for some scrap paper to catch the salady drips that escaped my ham salad sarnie (extra onion, extra mayo) when I realised that the page I’d scavenged wasn’t scrap at all. It contained several hand-drawn, rough sketches with interesting punny titles: ‘Reservoir Bogs’; ‘Lock Stock & Two Smoking Vaccums’; ‘Not Everything in Black & White is Read’ and ‘You’re Gonna Need a Bigger Skip’.

I wiped the crumbs and sandwich filling gloop from the page as best I could, and after I’d finished eating took it back to my own desk, where I filed it in my ‘Bring Forward’ system, so that I could ask Big Boss about it the next time he ventured in.

“Oh, it’s just some ideas I’ve had for a staff calendar,” he told me a week later. “I think it would be a fun way of marketing what we do that includes the staff.”

I agreed and twenty minutes later, we’d thought up half a dozen more ideas. Big Boss’s face, which had looked tired and pinched on arrival at the office that morning, now looked light and boyish. He instructed me to find a graphic design company that could advise us on feasibility and cost, before he set out again for an afternoon with clients and potential clients in back-to-back meetings.

Coincidentally, the graphic design company I’d selected had been the recipient of high praise at a social gathering Big Boss had attended the evening before I met with him, to give him an update on my search. I hadn’t heard of synchronicity then, but he gave me the go ahead to get the calendar made.

Over the next couple of months I worked with Big Boss and the graphic design company to refine the images, buy props and hire costumes, prep staff members to be involved and then get them to the studio for photography, hold their clothing, not peek when asked, make the teas and coffees, and then select the best images for inclusion, layout of each page and quality of the paper it would be printed on. It was a meaty project and I relished getting my teeth into it.

“We should have a party to launch the calendar,” Big Boss decreed after the first nude photo shoot, obviously buoyed up with the way it was going. “Invite the staff and clients.”

“And client secretaries,” I suggested. “They’ll be the ones that receive the calendars first and dish them out.”

He liked that idea. “Tate Modern owes us a favour or two, I’ll get us room there for the evening.” Big Boss could be quite persuasive.

And so, organising the launch party, sending invites, creating a presentation and buy thoughtful gifts to say ‘thank you’ to the staff involved was added to my list of things to do. Thoughtful Man helped me select and obtain the music that would accompany the revealing of each image in an animated Powerpoint show. I’d barely used Powerpoint before, let alone animate anything with it; it was a learning curve that held me in good stead for the rest of my career thereafter.

I didn’t compère the show – Big Boss did that; he’s an extremely accomplished public speaker. I ran the slide show and cued the music. The evening was a great success.

We had 13 months in our calendar; when you work in logistics you tend to plan just a little bit ahead… Clicky on each image to hear the accompanying Song 😉

january-lock-stock

february-thinker

march-thunderbirds

april-saving-bryan

may-the-fourth

june-tennis

july-reservoir-bogs

august-jaws

september-star-trek

october-twins

november-black-white-read

december-usual-suspects

january-727

Room x37 – Spotting Syncs 101: A Pointless Exercise Part 1.2

To continue from yesterday

Yay! Haven’t done much transcribing *yawn …Keeping you up, Clicky?*  ‘Pointless’ then, so images I grabbed today… 9 of them. They cover the introduction witch actually I didn’t pay any attention to whilst yabbering on…

  1. iPlayer image

1. Pointless Keys

2. Spiraling Towers

2. Pointless numbers

3. Solomon and Ruth

3. Team 1 Ruth and Solomon

*******

Digression: Today Loopy decided to get gold armor for one of his game’s characters. One called ‘Battery’. He already had the golden gun…

Totally Gold Battery

Yep… definitely…

Smoking Gold Battery 1

… smoking 😉

Smoking Gold Battery 2

*squints* It’s his holiday away from school… let him enjoy himself, I say. Digression over.

*******

4. The Angler and The Ace

4. Team 2 Carl and Jimmy

5. Oh Brother*shakes head*

5. Team 3 Craig and Nikki

6. Made in Chelsea

6. Team 4 Jamie and Alex

 

7. “My logisticians are a humorless lot … “

7. Linkin Man Alexander the Great

8. Friends in the Blue Universe

8. Team 5 Alexander and Richard

9. The Ozman cometh

9. OZ MAN

 

Up next… Famous Divas 😉 And if you need a catch up … Have an Oldie 😉

 

 

Tales of the Logistician’s Logistician: The Joy of Abseiling

At the start of the 21st century the company I work for decided to participate in a ‘Business Team Challenge’ competition being held in the Brecon Beacons. There were changes in personnel right up until the day before the team set off for Wales, due to ‘injuries’ and ‘work pressures’.  Nevertheless, the final line up contained a Big Boss, a Medium-sized Boss, a Little Boss and two lowly assistants, one of which was me. A delicate balance of bosses and staff had been achieved – three men and two women accordingly.

My job throughout was to ‘make it happen’, which in practice meant completing entry forms, booking accommodation, arrange transportation and triple-check timings, sourcing and purchase appropriate (matching) clothing, footwear, kit and equipment. And all the while, the personnel (and vital statistics) of the team kept changing.

I had to be there, of course, because I’d organised the team. But in truth, not being of an outdoorsy persuasion, I couldn’t think of a worse way to spend my weekend: it was bound to rain, I had never had to use a map and compass before and it was in Wales, for goodness sake! Wasn’t that bad enough?. I had to put my foot down somewhere along the line, and my fear of heights gave me the perfect opportunity; I said that I did not want to abseil. In turn I was promised I wouldn’t have to.

It was all going so well until the first afternoon when Medium-sized Boss twisted his ankle on a slippery slope, during a torrential downpour.

“There is no one else; you’ll have to do it”, I was told by Big Boss as he trotted on ahead, leaving me to trudge behind him to the edge of a chasm. I didn’t answer, I couldn’t; it’s difficult to speak coherently when your mouth is devoid of spit.

Three of us were to take the plunge for the honour of our company. Medium-sized Boss sat at the base of the drop, somewhere, cradling his ankle and smoking a cigarette, along with Little Boss, who had helped him hobble into position.  It was difficult to see exactly where they were positioned as my eyes had suddenly gone all blurry. Horror filled me, as the crowd of lemmings gradually thinned at the top of the drop.

Then there were three… Big Boss disappeared over the edge… two… Admin Girl followed… one…. The few remaining eyes on my level turned in my direction.

“I can’t do it…”I repeated like a scratched record, as I was gently coaxed and manoeuvred into position, clips clicked into place and a fat rope placed in my hands. The moment the soles of my walking boots started to shift from horizontal to vertical, I completely froze.

Except for my eyes – they raced upwards, away from certain death. Realising there was no escape, they slowly rolled back down to meet the gaze of the woman holding my rope. “You can do it”, she said gently, pushing me over the edge.

The journey down was far too short. In fact it was a complete blast!

“Can I do it again?” I squealed with delight, hopping from foot to foot, whilst Big Boss struggled to unhook me.

“No, we’ve got a hike to the next task. Well done.” And off he went.

Little and Medium-sized Boss, though, both hugged me tight and told me how brilliant I’d been to do it.  Medium-sized Boss carried on hugging and thanking me for helping him out… right up until the moment I realised we’d covered half the distance to the next stage of the competition.

He let me go and then the laughter started.  But the loudest laugh came from me.