Head Rambles

Grandad April 24th, 2007

There are basically four types of bus used for public transport.

The big ones are the double-deckers and the articulated single-deckers [though I haven't seen many of them]. Then there are the ordinary single deckers and finally the little Imps.

Double decker buses predominate. They are ideal for large volumes of passengers in urban areas.

Imps are designed for very low volumes of passengers in rural areas.

I live on a lane off a ‘main road’. When I say ‘main road’, I mean a country road that is very hilly, has very bad bends on it and it doesn’t really go anywhere except up to the bogs.

But we have a bus service. There is a loop up the road that is used as a terminus. Not many people use the bus, as most have cars. But there are a few folk who use it and it is very handy. So what kind of bus do you thing is most suitable for this route [hint: look at the images above] and what kind of bus is used on the service?

Correct.

The double decker.

A strange phenomenon though is the volume of double-deckers that pass at night. And they all seem to drive in first gear. You can hear them for about half a mile in each direction as the roar up the hills or roar around the hairpins. No sooner is one gone, than another appears. And they never have more than one or two passengers.

Then I realised what was going on.

The drivers are frustrated with traffic snarl-ups all day. They have to cope with all the other idiots on the road, timetables and, worst of all, passengers.

So to give themselves a break, they all head out to our nearby town. They line up. And then they hold races to see who can get up to my terminus and back the fastest. I’m glad they are enjoying themselves.

But they don’t half make a racket.

let the races begin

• Around the village , On the road
• Comments(9)

Grandad April 23rd, 2007

” If repeated often enough, a lie will become the new truth. “
Paul Joseph Goebbles, Minister of Propaganda, Nazi Germany

What exactly are the dangers of passive smoking?

I have been trying to do some research on the Interweb, and I am finding some very conflicting evidence.

One research found that passive smoking is equivalent to smoking six cigarettes a year.

Another quotes the following from a study of German flight crew -

“We found a rather remarkably low SMR [standardized incidence ratio] for lung cancer among female cabin attendants and no increase for male cabin attendants, indicating that smoking and exposure to passive smoking may not play an important role in mortality in this group. Smoking during airplane flights was permitted in Germany until the mid-1990s, and smoking is still not banned on all charter flights. The risk of cardiovascular disease mortality for male and female air crew was surprisingly low (reaching statistical significance among women).”

So what is the risk?

The entire basis for the smoking ban was to “protect non-smokers in a smoking environment”. The key word here is ‘protect’ [i.e. to remove a potential harm].

Most of the studies I found that proved passive smoking to be a danger were either biassed or anecdotal.

So let’s just say the jury is out on this one.

The jury is also out on the effects of mobile phones and phone masts.

Yet I have seen no laws banning the use of mobile phones? Why?

To me, the danger of mobile phone usage is possibly more important than the dangers of passive smoking.

I find mobile phones to be very irritating. I resent my peace being shattered by some bimbo shrieking that she is “sooo not happy” at not being invited to someone’s party, or some yuppy conducting some bit of ego-boosting business on the train.

I constantly have to be on the lookout for people who are driving while waffling on the phone. And I’m talking about hands-free phones here, before you all start moaning. They are concentrating so much on the conversation that they are completely unaware of their surroundings. The same goes for people on pavements. They barge around, pushing people onto the street because they are so wrapped up in some little domestic or social crisis.

And what of the dangers of radiation from all these phones around me? Not to mention the masts? Is my brain being constantly fried every time I go into town? Is this the cause of my insanity?

What about the kids who get mugged, beaten up or even murdered for their phones?

What about the invasion of privacy with the proliferation of camera phones?

Happy-slapping?

Mobile phones are a far greater danger to public health than passive smoking.

I just thought I’d run the idea up the flagpole and see who salutes.

• Smoking
• Comments(34)

Grandad April 23rd, 2007

People have commented on the picture at the top of my blog.

They say it is a nice picture. Very serene and peaceful.

I thought it was appropriate - people rambling. And they are up the mountains like me.

But the criticism is that it is too serene. I rant and rave a lot. And that doesn’t match the image at the top. They say I should have a picture that shows more anger. More ire. More bile. More violence. More bloodshed. People are very bloodthirsty these days. I blame it on computer games.

I like that picture though, so for the moment, it stays.

The photograph was taken by a friend. I was sitting right behind him at the time. It was a lovely day. Those two tourists had just asked for directions and they were now heading up to the bogs where I send all tourists.

Just after he took that photograph, he took one of me.

Does that really make you feel any better?

• Internet , Rambles
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Grandad April 22nd, 2007

Herself wanted to watch a film last night.

We have the Sky Satellite setup. It’s an old one, and it’s not connected to the phonelines. So if we want to watch a film we have to ring them up. They then press a button or something, and we can watch the film. Simple? No!

I rang Sky.

“Can I help you?” Four words and I knew I was in trouble. Another foreigner..

“I would like to book ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for half nine on channel 713, please.”

“Select ze channel and press ze select button on your control. Zat will book ze film.”

“No.” says I patiently. “We don’t have the box connected. We have to book it through you.”

There was a pause.

“Select ze channel and press ze select button on your control. Zat will book ze film.”

I knew I had a real one here!! This was going to take a long time. I opened my special box of Call Centre Prozac and took a few.

I explained as slowly as I could, in words of one syllable that I didn’t have a phone connection on the box and that they had to release the film for me and that I had done it that way dozens of times in the past.

“Ze computer is broken” says he.

“I don’t care about your computer. I just want to watch a film! Can you please unlock the film for me?”

“Select ze channel and press ze select button on your control. Zat will book ze film.”

I hung up.

A couple of hours later, I rang back. It was getting close to the screening time at this stage.

“Can I help you?”

I don’t know how many people they have in their call centre, but I had managed to get the same bloke.

“Is your computer fixed?” I asked.

“Yes. Ze computer is vorking”

“Good” says I. “I would like to book ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for half nine on channel 713, please.”

“Select ze channel and press ze select button on your control. Zat will book ze film.”

“Listen Dickhead” says I [I knew i could swear at him - if he didn't have basic English he wouldn't understand and I would feel better] “I explained all this before. All you have to do is take my name, address, codeword and you can release the film.”

“May I have your name pliz?”

I sighed with relief. We were getting somewhere. I gave him my name.

It was a name he hadn’t come across before, so we had great difficulty getting it across, but we got there in the end.

“May I have your address pliz?”

I knew I was in trouble. I don’t live in an address like ‘5 The Green, Newtown”. I live in rural Ireland where we use townland names which are derived from the old Irish names. I have a simple enough address - five words in total if you include the word ‘County’.

It took fifteen minutes. I had to spell out each word, but he kept confusing ‘m’ with ‘n’ and ‘b’ with ‘c’ and the like. I even tried the phonetic alphabet - C, Charlie, but he didn’t know what Charlie was and I even started to spell that for him. I was cracking up, despite the twenty Prozac I had taken at this stage.

Finally, I got my address through to him.

“May I have ze house number pliz?”

“I don’t have a house number. I live in the country. We use house names. I have already explained that. I have given you my house name. Jayzus!!!”

He got the last word, and must have realised he was pushing it a bit so he skipped the house number bit.

“May I have your PIN code pliz”

“WHAT?” says I. “I don’t know my PIN code. I have never been asked for my PIN code. You don’t need my PIN code. And I would like to watch this film tonight, if at all possible”

“Security” says he “Ve need your PIN for security”

“I DON’T KNOW IT” I shouted [five more Prozac] “ALL I KNOW IS THAT IT STARTS WITH ZERO.”

He read the number out to me. “Is zat it?” says he.

It suddenly dawned on me. A moment of complete frustration set in. I had to confirm my worst fears………….

“Did you have all my information on the screen all the time?” says I.

“Yes. But I have to confirm for ze security”

“Put me on to your fucking supervisor” says I. Thirty Prozac wasn’t enough at this stage.

“Ze film is booked” says he. “I am sorry if I hurt you”.

“Not half as sorry as I am that I can’t hurt you” says I and I hung up.

Ten minutes later, we switched on to watch the film.

A banner came up on the bottom of the screen - “Press Select for booking information”.

Ten more Prozac, and I reached for the phone.

A very nice Scottish lass answered.

I explained [in a hurry, as the film was about to start] what had happened and about the computer failure and all.

“There was nothing wrong with the computers” says she “Can I have your details please?”

I gave her my name, address and password. It took all of ten seconds.

“Ah yes” says she “I see who it was. He’s a bit of a dickhead”

“Strange,” says I “That’s what I called him”

“Everyone does.” she laughed, “He’s managed to debit your account but he hasn’t booked you any films”.

There was a fierce clattering of computer keys.

“You are OK now. I have cancelled the old booking and made a new one. And I’m very sorry about all that”.

I thanked her and sat back to enjoy the film, which had just started.

‘The Devil Wears Prada’ is a good film. I normally don’t like Meryl Streep as an actress but she was brilliant in this film.

I just wish her character in the film could be Dickhead’s boss.

• Around the house
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Grandad April 21st, 2007

I’m a healthy enough individual for my age.

I have my little problems, but don’t we all?

As I grow older, bits start to drop off and I have to get them fixed on again. A bit like an old car. The rust is beginning to show.

When I was living in the suburbs, we had a doctor who lived just a few doors down. He was very handy, but he was one of the worst doctors I ever met. He knew his stuff all right, but he only had two interests in life - making money and becoming a politician.

I went to him once, as I needed a cert for work. He allocated each patient about five minutes, and for the entire session, he bitched about his overheads and his costs, and how he had to put his prices up yet again. Two days later, I saw him being interviewed on the television news - he was heading off to Cheltenham and was bragging about how he was going to have a great time backing all the horses!

I went to our local doctor yesterday. It was a routine visit. A case of gluing on the latest bits that had fallen off and checking oil levels and brake-fluid.

He is a different kettle of fish. He has only one interest in life - the care of the patient. He has a great sense of humour and we always have a laugh. He is one of those doctors that even if there is nothing wrong with you, you feel better after a visit.

Anyway. I had my visit and afterwards I met Herself for a coffee.

“Did you ask him about your short term memory problem?” says she.

Of course, I didn’t.

I forgot.

• Around the village
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Grandad April 20th, 2007

I have really had a bellyful of that Cully & Sully crowd.

Not content with snowing me under with ceramic bowls, so I can’t even use half the rooms any more, they are now plagiarising my work.

I was browsing their site today in the hope of hacking into it and leaving a rude comment or two, and what do I come across?

This

That is going too far. They give an old address for a post last February, and then quote verbatim the last post I did about them, under the heading of ‘other blogs’. So they are filling their website with my hard work. And not so much as a single fish pie in return. Next thing they’ll be packaging my entire Blog in ceramic bowls and selling it off.

I was going to contact my solicitors and bring them to the European Court of Plagiarising Blogs or something. But I do like their pies so I’ll be lenient.

I have learned a little about search engines in the last few months, and I have found that by writing about Cully and Sully, I am climbing up the search results. Already, I’m only just behind them in Google, and soon I’ll overtake them. Then anyone who searches for them, will find me. And I can write what I like about them.

So they had better be damn nice to me from now on.

• Cully & Sully , Rambles
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