Archive for June, 2009

A trip down memory lane

June 15th, 2009

I was browsing through the paper on Saturday when I came across an advertisement.

The Railway Preservation Society of Ireland are running one of their excursions.

I would love to go on that excursion, but circumstances conspire against me, and it is unlikely I could make it.

Most of you will never have experienced the joys of a steam locomotive, and will therefore find it hard to understand why anyone should pay good money just to travel on a train.  Steam travel is an entirely different experience however.

Steam locomotives are more than just the sum of their parts.  They are more than just lumps of metal.  To stand beside a steam locomotive in a station is to experience a unique phenomenon – a living machine.  Modern diesel and electric locomotives are soulless mass produced items that can only be told apart by their numbers.  When to you ever see a young boy standing gazing in awe at a modern locomotive?

no4

Whenever I was going on a train journey, the first item on the agenda when we arrived on the platform was to run and admire the locomotive.  Here was a living, breathing thing of beauty that was not just built to pull a train, but was to be admired.  Who can forget the sounds of steam?  Who can forget the smell of the steam and smoke, the hot metal and the smell of oil?  It was an odour of childhood and of excitement.

Steam locomotives were both loved and hated by the drivers and firemen.  A locomotive had to be fired up hours before a journey, and there was a long list of items to be checked and oiled, before taking on coal and water.  However, the locomotives were cherished, loved, painted and polished until they were gleaming.  The drivers and firemen took great pride in their charges and it showed.

Travelling on a train pulled by steam was a different experience too. There was something reassuring about the sight of the smoke curling off across the fields.  In those days, when one booked a seat, one had to specify if one wanted to travel ‘back to the engine’ as smuts came in the window, and forward facing seats tended to gather a bit of fallout. 

Steam excursions are very popular these days.  I think it is more than just a desire to see these magnificent beasts back in action.

It is a hankering for the days before mass production, when people took a pride in their lives and when beauty and functionality took equal places.

A change of pace

June 14th, 2009

Normally on a Sunday I sit down and solve your little problems.

But why should I?

Here I am handing out valuable advice to you ingrates without so much as a thanks.

I don’t give a flying fuck about your problems, just as you don’t care about mine.

I’m going out today to do something useful, for the benefit of mankind as a whole.

I’m going to run a few cyclists into the ditch.

Saturday afternoon

June 13th, 2009

Herself just fired up her laptop.

We are posh here – she has one and I have one.  They both came off the same lorry.

“Yiz haven’t written anything today?” says she.

“No” says I, trying to have my afternoon nap in peace. “I have nothing to say.”

“Jayzus!” says Herself.  “That makes a change.”

Baseball bat – 1.

Frying pan – 0.

Uses for a guinea pig

June 12th, 2009

This is a simple question.

What use are guinea pigs?

minnie
Minnie Pig.

Minnie joined our happy clan about six months ago, and since then she frankly has done fuck all.

I grant you she eats a lot.

She also squeaks and occasionally makes a whirring noise.

Apart from that she just sits there.

When we first got her, I did some research as I knew nothing about the species.  Apparently they are bred as a delicacy in South America, so I tried eating her.  Unfortunately, she kept jumping out of the frying pan, so I had to abandon that one.

Then I read that they are used a lot for research, in laboratories.  That sounded interesting so I devised a few experiments. 

I tried making her smoke a cigarette.  That didn’t do much apart from making her cough a bit.  Now she’s on forty a day, and it’s costing me a fortune.

I tried some of our garden produce on her.  She just put a silly grin on her face and started singing Leonard Cohen songs, so I had to abandon that one quickly.

I tried using her as a tennis ball replacement to add a bit of spice to my games with Sandy.  That didn’t work either, as each time she landed, she started eating more of the crop and insisted on singing Leonard Cohen songs again.

I have tried using her as a paper weight, but she just eats the paper.  She ate a fifty Euro note yesterday.

I tried feeding her some hormone tablets that I found lying around.  She just started asking about the size of her arse, and demanded to go shopping all the time, until I weaned her off again.

I’m stumped.  I cannot find a use for her.

Any suggestions?

I’ll try anything.

As long as it doesn’t involve Leonard Cohen.

Tursdays rand

June 11th, 2009

I am starting a campaign to save the letter ‘T’.

I have noticed of late that there is a terrible tendency to replace it in speech with the letter ‘D’, which is totally unnecessary but is also extremely grating on the ears.

I don’t know where this awful habit comes from, but I suspect it is more of this Mid Atlantic bastardisation of our spoken word. 

I had the misfortune last night to accidentally hear one of the announcers on TV3 who seem to delight in employing bimbos with the most horrendous accents.  She announced something about some ‘celebriddy’ programme that was on ‘lader’ ‘afder’ some other programme.

I’m not attacking TV3 specifically, though they do have an obvious policy of employing women for their looks rather than their brains.  RTE is another occasional offender, where you get some flashy little size zero troll who insists on using the same irritating habits [or should I say ‘irridading habids’?]

I know there is quite a vigorous campaign in Dublin to support my cause.  My old friend Bertie was one of the leading lights in this campaign where ‘th’ was replaced with ‘t’ as a mark of sympathy. Unfortunately, while I laud their efforts they still have frequent lapses where they would refer to ‘dis Tursday’ or ‘dat tunder’.

Maybe I’m being too hard?

Anyway, I will leave you to ponder over my taughts while I go and make a cup of d. 

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