Is it just me, or has this World Cup just kinda sucked? There seem to have been hardly any goals, not a lot of skill on show, and few teams really showing us what they can do. I'm sure the last one was better (and not just because I got to watch the matches at work).
The most notable thing about the World Cup has been the absolutely abysmal refereeing. To many dodgy decisions, too many cards, too many sendings-off. I'm sorry, but to have had two games with more than three red cards each is just too many. Something isn't right here.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Competition
Following last week's blog silliness, I have decided to have a sensible week. Therefore, allow me to recount for you one of the key events of my weekend.
I competed with my band on Saturday. It was my first 'proper' competition (discounting a BB contest of a few years ago because it was very obviously a different experience altogether). Because I've only just joined the band, I only played for the qualification round, which they got through. I didn't play the final.
The band came dead last in the final. This was not the result we were hoping for. However, it does mean that we can only improve, and it does give me some scope for fitting in better for the next competition.
In addition to competing, I saw a few people in other bands that I had not seen for a while. One of my former students was playing with her schools band in the Novice/Juvenile grade. They did very well, as always. Additionally, I saw (but didn't get a chance to speak to) several people from another band I'm aware of. It seems that they have left that band and joined another, which gives me a certain sense that perhaps all is not well there. Still, not my concern.
There were three lessons I learned from my experience:
1) If the car doesn't have any petrol in it, don't leave the house without your wallet. You'll need it.
2) Getting up at half past five in the morning, especially on a Saturday, is not good. However, as expected wakening at that time does not have the same paralytic effect as an unexpected wakening at three.
3) It's a good idea to wear sunblock when going out in the sun. This was the third Saturday in a row I managed to get sunburn, which is even more impressive in Scotland than elsewhere in the world.
The band are now preparing for their next competition, which is in Callander. This should be interesting, as it is on the day after I get back from my holidays. I may not be at my very best on that day.
I competed with my band on Saturday. It was my first 'proper' competition (discounting a BB contest of a few years ago because it was very obviously a different experience altogether). Because I've only just joined the band, I only played for the qualification round, which they got through. I didn't play the final.
The band came dead last in the final. This was not the result we were hoping for. However, it does mean that we can only improve, and it does give me some scope for fitting in better for the next competition.
In addition to competing, I saw a few people in other bands that I had not seen for a while. One of my former students was playing with her schools band in the Novice/Juvenile grade. They did very well, as always. Additionally, I saw (but didn't get a chance to speak to) several people from another band I'm aware of. It seems that they have left that band and joined another, which gives me a certain sense that perhaps all is not well there. Still, not my concern.
There were three lessons I learned from my experience:
1) If the car doesn't have any petrol in it, don't leave the house without your wallet. You'll need it.
2) Getting up at half past five in the morning, especially on a Saturday, is not good. However, as expected wakening at that time does not have the same paralytic effect as an unexpected wakening at three.
3) It's a good idea to wear sunblock when going out in the sun. This was the third Saturday in a row I managed to get sunburn, which is even more impressive in Scotland than elsewhere in the world.
The band are now preparing for their next competition, which is in Callander. This should be interesting, as it is on the day after I get back from my holidays. I may not be at my very best on that day.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
My 'Bigger Mac' story
On Friday of last week, I went to McDonalds and had a Bigger Mac. It was nice. It tasted exactly like the Big Mac, but was bigger.
The End.
The End.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Repeating myself...
Sometimes, I worry that I might be becoming senile, and start repeating myself. Part of the reason for this is that I really only know four conversations, so I have to keep having them with different people.
Anyway, I was worried I might have already blogged about the women/sock conspiracy, so I felt the need to check every single post on this thing to make sure. Fortunately, it turns out that I haven't done that one before. Whew!
The down-side is that it turns out I have blogged about every other subject imaginable. Therefore, I will now have to start repeating myself.
Anyway, I was worried I might have already blogged about the women/sock conspiracy, so I felt the need to check every single post on this thing to make sure. Fortunately, it turns out that I haven't done that one before. Whew!
The down-side is that it turns out I have blogged about every other subject imaginable. Therefore, I will now have to start repeating myself.
Repeating myself...
Sometimes, I worry that I might be becoming senile, and start repeating myself. Part of the reason for this is that I really only know four conversations, so I have to keep having them with different people.
Anyway, I was worried I might have already blogged about the women/sock conspiracy, so I felt the need to check every single post on this thing to make sure. Fortunately, it turns out that I haven't done that one before. Whew!
The down-side is that it turns out I have blogged about every other subject imaginable. Therefore, I will now have to start repeating myself.
Anyway, I was worried I might have already blogged about the women/sock conspiracy, so I felt the need to check every single post on this thing to make sure. Fortunately, it turns out that I haven't done that one before. Whew!
The down-side is that it turns out I have blogged about every other subject imaginable. Therefore, I will now have to start repeating myself.
Throwing us off the scent
My recent surfing has taken me to another blog, in the comments of which a number of women were lamenting the loss of socks to their washing machines (the blog wasn't about said loss of socks; this was merely a tangent). Anyway, I felt that this was a cruel trick for the so-called fairer sex to attempt to play upon us humble menfolk.
See, I have discovered the truth of the lost socks!
In days of yore, my washing was done by my mother. In those heady days of youth, the loss of a sock was an event so common as to be unworthy of comment. After Mum went back to work (still many years ago), there was a time when my sister did the washing in the house (I was responsible for dusting - it wasn't a sexist thing, merely division of labour). In those days, the loss of a sock was likewise an event of great frequency.
Some time later, Claire determined that she was too busy continue to do the washing. At that point, and in all the days since, I have washed my own socks. In all the days since, I have never lost a single sock... (I thought I'd lost one once, but it turned out I'd just dropped it.)
This led me to question to accepted wisdom that it was the washing machine that ate socks. Clearly, if this were the case, then socks would be eaten regardless of who was doing the washing.
But if the washing machine wasn't eating the socks, then who was? A mystery indeed.
Naturally, I engaged in a little detective work. As we know, in order to commit a crime, you need means, motive and opportunity. Seeing means and opportunity was simple enough, but what was the motive?
Well, all became clear a little later, when it occurred to me that the classic gift, given by all mothers to their sons, by all wives to their husbands, and so on, for every event at which gifts must be given, is socks!
Suddenly, it all made sense. Unable to think of gifts for their husbands, some women adopted the policy of eating socks, gaining both a rather strange meal and also gift-giving opportunities. The practice is passed from mother to daughter, and is widespread today.
I can only believe those comments about lost socks were really just a bid to throw us off the scent. The other possibility is too horrible to contemplate.
See, I have discovered the truth of the lost socks!
In days of yore, my washing was done by my mother. In those heady days of youth, the loss of a sock was an event so common as to be unworthy of comment. After Mum went back to work (still many years ago), there was a time when my sister did the washing in the house (I was responsible for dusting - it wasn't a sexist thing, merely division of labour). In those days, the loss of a sock was likewise an event of great frequency.
Some time later, Claire determined that she was too busy continue to do the washing. At that point, and in all the days since, I have washed my own socks. In all the days since, I have never lost a single sock... (I thought I'd lost one once, but it turned out I'd just dropped it.)
This led me to question to accepted wisdom that it was the washing machine that ate socks. Clearly, if this were the case, then socks would be eaten regardless of who was doing the washing.
But if the washing machine wasn't eating the socks, then who was? A mystery indeed.
Naturally, I engaged in a little detective work. As we know, in order to commit a crime, you need means, motive and opportunity. Seeing means and opportunity was simple enough, but what was the motive?
Well, all became clear a little later, when it occurred to me that the classic gift, given by all mothers to their sons, by all wives to their husbands, and so on, for every event at which gifts must be given, is socks!
Suddenly, it all made sense. Unable to think of gifts for their husbands, some women adopted the policy of eating socks, gaining both a rather strange meal and also gift-giving opportunities. The practice is passed from mother to daughter, and is widespread today.
I can only believe those comments about lost socks were really just a bid to throw us off the scent. The other possibility is too horrible to contemplate.
Expanding the Crusade
Last night I was explaining to someone that I'd decided to expand my two-fold crusade to include a mandate to "banish ITV from TV-land", only to realise that I'd never actually explained my two-fold crusade to anyone (except Richard and Leigh, who were there when I first announced the crusade).
Anyway, the goals of my now-three-fold crusade are as follows:
1) To eat lots of biscuits
2) To complain about cleaning products being of every colour of the rainbow
3) To banish ITV from TV-land.
My progress to date has been minimal.
Clearly, the goal of eating lots of biscuits is a noble and sensible one. Biscuits represent a great threat to mankind's continued supremacy on the planet, and therefore must be stamped out. Unfortunately, my progress in this area is hampered by (1) Having had to go on a diet (ick!) and (2) Having had to give up Penguins because the largest packet available has 27 biscuits in it, which puts the eater at risk of accidentally only eating one biscuit, getting a unique joke, and unravelling the universe.
Now, cleaning products. Despite the fact that there exist only ten distinct colours, three of which are black, various companies still insist on providing their cleaning products in every hue. Do we really need blue washing-up liquid? Green bleach? Orange surface cleaner? (Orange, of course, just being yellow that has ideas above its station)
I say no! Therefore, I have made it one of my missions in life to moan about this fact to any poor fool who is silly enough to listen. Including you, dear reader. (In fact, having now complained, that should suffice to complete that ambition. Yay for me!)
And then there's the delights of ITV. Thus far this year, they have shown exactly two things worth watching: the new Sharpe (a BBC America production, no less!), and the World Cup. Their World Cup coverage is actively bad; it's just a shame that the BBC aren't showing all of the matches (or even Sky). In truth, they also have some Champions' League matches, but again, their coverage sucks and should be moved to another channel.
Apart from these few things, they show an endless diet of bad soaps, talentless shows, and other such nonsense. In fact, I was shocked that during the World Cup they haven't tried to introduce a scheme whereby voters can text in to say which teams they want to go forward. Frankly, that strikes me as a far more democratic and egalitarian scheme than basing such decisions on trivial things like talent.
And so, there it is, my three-fold crusade.
Anyway, the goals of my now-three-fold crusade are as follows:
1) To eat lots of biscuits
2) To complain about cleaning products being of every colour of the rainbow
3) To banish ITV from TV-land.
My progress to date has been minimal.
Clearly, the goal of eating lots of biscuits is a noble and sensible one. Biscuits represent a great threat to mankind's continued supremacy on the planet, and therefore must be stamped out. Unfortunately, my progress in this area is hampered by (1) Having had to go on a diet (ick!) and (2) Having had to give up Penguins because the largest packet available has 27 biscuits in it, which puts the eater at risk of accidentally only eating one biscuit, getting a unique joke, and unravelling the universe.
Now, cleaning products. Despite the fact that there exist only ten distinct colours, three of which are black, various companies still insist on providing their cleaning products in every hue. Do we really need blue washing-up liquid? Green bleach? Orange surface cleaner? (Orange, of course, just being yellow that has ideas above its station)
I say no! Therefore, I have made it one of my missions in life to moan about this fact to any poor fool who is silly enough to listen. Including you, dear reader. (In fact, having now complained, that should suffice to complete that ambition. Yay for me!)
And then there's the delights of ITV. Thus far this year, they have shown exactly two things worth watching: the new Sharpe (a BBC America production, no less!), and the World Cup. Their World Cup coverage is actively bad; it's just a shame that the BBC aren't showing all of the matches (or even Sky). In truth, they also have some Champions' League matches, but again, their coverage sucks and should be moved to another channel.
Apart from these few things, they show an endless diet of bad soaps, talentless shows, and other such nonsense. In fact, I was shocked that during the World Cup they haven't tried to introduce a scheme whereby voters can text in to say which teams they want to go forward. Frankly, that strikes me as a far more democratic and egalitarian scheme than basing such decisions on trivial things like talent.
And so, there it is, my three-fold crusade.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Take That at 3am
Yesterday was not a good day. As usual, I didn't get enough sleep. Still, I got up, got ready, and went to the gala day that my band were playing at. It was good. I got sunburnt.
Where it went wrong was after the gala day, when the band had a barbeque, to which I was invited. I went, but because I had my car, I couldn't drink. Then, I found that the only soft drinks were Diet, which as we all know really means "not as nice, potentially carcinogenic, and definately depressing..."
But the big problem came a bit later, when it became apparent that everyone in the band knows each other from way back, they don't know me, and we don't really have that much in common (true of about 99% of the population, of course). After a bunch of conversations about bands I'd been in in the past, I snuck off.
There then followed a fairly depressing evening of watching TV. I went to bed early, once it became apparent that only was there nothing good on, but that there never would be again.
It was a good thing that I did.
About 3am, I was woken up by music from downstairs. My neighbours are a couple and their daughter. The parents are currently away; the girl had gotten home with some friends - a girl and two guys.
Anyway, there then proceeded more than an hour of loud music, mostly consisting of Take That's Greatest Hits. Which brought home to me three things: 1) Take That aren't improved by being heard through a floor. 2) Take That still suck, but are now better than virtually everything that's in the charts. 3) Having "Relight My Fire" stuck in your head isn't much fun.
About 3:45, one of the guys joked that this was their "3am wake-up call". I'm a little annoyed about that. (Funnily enough, I just accidentally hit CAPS LOCK just before I hit the 'A' there...)
Anyway, the music went off at 4:15ish, whereupon I went back to bed... but no joy getting to sleep. At this point, I went for a walk.
Sadly, once the sun is up in the morning, and once I've woken up, there's no getting back to sleep. Hopefully, I'll be able to just zone out after 24 tonight. Hence, surfing the net, watching bad TV, reading a bit, and so forth.
Still, it is a Sunday morning, and I'm not that old. Perhaps I'll just ask them to play better music next time. Any recommendations for good music to be rudely awakened to?
Where it went wrong was after the gala day, when the band had a barbeque, to which I was invited. I went, but because I had my car, I couldn't drink. Then, I found that the only soft drinks were Diet, which as we all know really means "not as nice, potentially carcinogenic, and definately depressing..."
But the big problem came a bit later, when it became apparent that everyone in the band knows each other from way back, they don't know me, and we don't really have that much in common (true of about 99% of the population, of course). After a bunch of conversations about bands I'd been in in the past, I snuck off.
There then followed a fairly depressing evening of watching TV. I went to bed early, once it became apparent that only was there nothing good on, but that there never would be again.
It was a good thing that I did.
About 3am, I was woken up by music from downstairs. My neighbours are a couple and their daughter. The parents are currently away; the girl had gotten home with some friends - a girl and two guys.
Anyway, there then proceeded more than an hour of loud music, mostly consisting of Take That's Greatest Hits. Which brought home to me three things: 1) Take That aren't improved by being heard through a floor. 2) Take That still suck, but are now better than virtually everything that's in the charts. 3) Having "Relight My Fire" stuck in your head isn't much fun.
About 3:45, one of the guys joked that this was their "3am wake-up call". I'm a little annoyed about that. (Funnily enough, I just accidentally hit CAPS LOCK just before I hit the 'A' there...)
Anyway, the music went off at 4:15ish, whereupon I went back to bed... but no joy getting to sleep. At this point, I went for a walk.
Sadly, once the sun is up in the morning, and once I've woken up, there's no getting back to sleep. Hopefully, I'll be able to just zone out after 24 tonight. Hence, surfing the net, watching bad TV, reading a bit, and so forth.
Still, it is a Sunday morning, and I'm not that old. Perhaps I'll just ask them to play better music next time. Any recommendations for good music to be rudely awakened to?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
King Penguin
Before I was compelled to give them up, I was rather fond of Penguins, the king of all biscuits. In addition to that lovely chocolate and biscuit, and the opportunity to build up entire teams of Penguins in different colours for my forthcoming parody "Match of the Penguins II", they always had a fascinating fact or hilarious joke on the back of the wrapper.
Jokes such as the majestic:
Q: Why did the starfish blush?
A: Because the sea weed.
However, I noted the universal law that no matter how many Penguins one ate, one never encountered a new joke or fact. Every single biscuit had one of the same three entries on the wrapper.
Until one day, our hero ate a Penguin, turned to the joke, and found a new joke there! Truly this was a banner day, one worthy of being recorded for all time on blogs across the nation.
Our hero then ate his second Penguin of the day, for never must they be eaten in isolation, and turned to the second joke... to find it a duplicate of the same new joke he had just encountered. Harmony was restored to the universe. Disaster averted.
(I feel that the moral of this story is that it is quite right to never eat only a single Penguin. If you do, you run the risk of finding a unique joke, and breaking the universe.)
Jokes such as the majestic:
Q: Why did the starfish blush?
A: Because the sea weed.
However, I noted the universal law that no matter how many Penguins one ate, one never encountered a new joke or fact. Every single biscuit had one of the same three entries on the wrapper.
Until one day, our hero ate a Penguin, turned to the joke, and found a new joke there! Truly this was a banner day, one worthy of being recorded for all time on blogs across the nation.
Our hero then ate his second Penguin of the day, for never must they be eaten in isolation, and turned to the second joke... to find it a duplicate of the same new joke he had just encountered. Harmony was restored to the universe. Disaster averted.
(I feel that the moral of this story is that it is quite right to never eat only a single Penguin. If you do, you run the risk of finding a unique joke, and breaking the universe.)
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Tis the season...
I have noticed that the adverts for my works Christmas night out have gone up this week. I have, therefore, responded by doing all my Christmas shopping. Apparently, the fashionable Christmas gift for this year is a bottle of suntan lotion.
HO-HO-HO!
HO-HO-HO!
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
SPA Update
As many of my loyal readers know, I am the founder and member of the Society for the Prevention of Acronyms (SPA for short). Our mandate is to prevent the proliferation of acronyms in the world by ranting inanely on the internet. It has been a while since I updated anyone on the latest antics of the SPA, so felt the time to do so had come.
Recently, the SPA had a great success. Through our lobbying efforts, the British Union of Red Parakeets were persuaded that their name was already sufficiently ridiculous, and that therefore there was no need to adopt an acronym. Huzzah!
However, not all our efforts have met with success. I must report failure in the effort to prevent the Clowns Against Rivers, Ninja And Green Envelopes adopting their new name. Indeed, tensions came to a head at a recent demonstration by the SPA, and indeed the outcome of the ill-tempered confrontation can only be described as... chaotic.
Finally, there has recently been a motion within the SPA to expand our mandate to stand against the scourge of spling misteaks. However, the motion to this effect was defeated on two grounds. The first was that SPASAM was considered to have less of a 'kick' to it that our previous name, but it was also noted that this change would require us to take a moral stand against our own membership, which would probably detract from the focus on the core mission of the SPA. The poll of our member showed an impressive 70% in favour of retaining the original name and mission of the SPA.
Recently, the SPA had a great success. Through our lobbying efforts, the British Union of Red Parakeets were persuaded that their name was already sufficiently ridiculous, and that therefore there was no need to adopt an acronym. Huzzah!
However, not all our efforts have met with success. I must report failure in the effort to prevent the Clowns Against Rivers, Ninja And Green Envelopes adopting their new name. Indeed, tensions came to a head at a recent demonstration by the SPA, and indeed the outcome of the ill-tempered confrontation can only be described as... chaotic.
Finally, there has recently been a motion within the SPA to expand our mandate to stand against the scourge of spling misteaks. However, the motion to this effect was defeated on two grounds. The first was that SPASAM was considered to have less of a 'kick' to it that our previous name, but it was also noted that this change would require us to take a moral stand against our own membership, which would probably detract from the focus on the core mission of the SPA. The poll of our member showed an impressive 70% in favour of retaining the original name and mission of the SPA.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Something that has been bothering me for some time...
Today, I'm going to muse on a crucial matter of global importance. If you are easily offended, you might want to stop reading now.
As everyone knows, the greatest crisps ever invented by man are Walkers Cheese and Onion crisps. Truly, they are the second-finest expression of the paragon of vegetables, behind only chips in their gloriousness. (In the unlikely event that there are any Americans reading: crisps (UK) = chips (US), and chips (UK) = fries (US).)
At least, that used to be the case. However, a few months ago, Walkers announced that they had found a way to make their crisps using "sunseed oil", which would allow them to reduce the fat content by about 70% (!) without affecting the taste (!!). Truly, a wonderful outcome, if only it had been true.
Weep with me, friends, for they have ruined crisps!
The new Walkers crisps do, in fact, taste the same as their predecessors. They do, in fact, have a lot less fat. However, they are also harder, more brittle, and generally a lot less pleasant to eat. In short, they are no longer the greatest crisps in history.
Here's the thing: I'm an adult (no, really!). I am capable of making informed choices about what I eat. And I choose not to eat "low fat", "good for you!" or "diet" versions of foods. It's a taste thing - I would rather eat less nice food and/or exercise more than eat things that just aren't as nice.
I suppose that's the key, though: many adults are not capable of making informed choices about what they (or, more to the point, their children) eat. It's not easily obvious how much you should be eating of various things, nor how much of those things foods contain. And the interactions are not clear either - you're supposed to drink 1.5 litres of water per day, but does coffee count? Does Cola? Does fruit juice? You're supposed to eat 5 servings of fruit and veg per day, but how much is a serving? And does cooking the food make a difference? And what about the fact that spinach contains very different nutrients from sweetcorn?
And so the food companies feel a pressure to constantly try to make their food healthier, even if that means it doesn't taste as nice, and the government tries to force us to eat more of the things that they think are good for us. When, in fact, the correct solution to our health problems is that we're just not exercising enough. Sort that out, and many of the other problems just go away.
One suggestion that gets made every so often is the notion of a 'fat tax'. Typically, this takes the form of an additional tax on unhealthy foods. A better solution would be annual weigh-ins, and a tax based on that. The best solution, though, is nothing of the sort - simply taxing people for being overweight is useless without better enabling them to sort out their weight problems.
What needs produced is a set of leaflets, outlining several balanced diets, making use of things that are easily acquired and easily prepared. These diets should be presented making use of foods that people are actually going to eat, because simply saying "don't eat burgers" isn't going to work. The diets should cover all the meals for a whole week (at least - a month would be better) giving plenty of variety, plenty of options, and substitutions where possible.
In parallel with this, we urgently need work done to encourage people to exercise. This potentially means reclaiming land for playing fields, but that by itself is not enough. It is also crucially important to provide opportunity for exercise, and taking up that opportunity must be easy. So, our sports centres should be running workshops in whatever sports they specialise in, which should be free to all comers, and which should be heavily advertised. Every playing field should be the focus of some summer club for some sport or another.
Thirdly, there needs to be made easily available health check-ups for everyone (for free, and on an annual basis), which includes not just assessments of the the areas that need worked on, but also clear guidance on how to fix problems. At the moment, it's nigh-on impossible to see a doctor when something is wrong, so no-one goes for a preventative consultation. But we should - in the same way we all understand a car needs regularly serviced, so too should we understand that our bodies need the same.
Then, and only then, do you introduce a fat tax.
In the meantime, I'm going to continue lamenting the death of nice crisps, and think about trying out the 'Bigger Mac', because I do like a tasty burger...
TV Update
Well, the Sky guy came on Saturday, so after only four attempts I now have the full range of bad TV to watch again. Although oddly, my Sky box still thinks I'm living in Yeovil, so it tunes to BBC 1 West, BBC 2 England, and whatever the local ITV station is down there. I need to try to figure out how to change that, for those three occasions when there's something different on STV than that ITV station, and I actually want to watch the STV programme (and when I say three occasions, I don't mean the three in the five months remaining on my contract, or in the next year...).
On another note, can someone explain to me why it is Scottish TV decided they had to 'rebrand' themselves as STV? As far as I'm aware, everyone just calls them "three" anyway. If they want to attract more viewers, perhaps they should show the occasional good programme.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Living the dream
My sofa finally arrived last night!
This, of course, allowed me to achieve one of my great ambitions for the year: I was able to sit on a sofa while watching TV! Shame there wasn't anything on, but still...
Tomorrow, I'm going to go one step forward, and watch TV while sitting on a sofa and eating chips.
This, of course, allowed me to achieve one of my great ambitions for the year: I was able to sit on a sofa while watching TV! Shame there wasn't anything on, but still...
Tomorrow, I'm going to go one step forward, and watch TV while sitting on a sofa and eating chips.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Sky. What do you want to watch?
Well, tough, because there's no chance they'll actually fit a dish with which you can receive these programmes. What's more, when you call to ask why they haven't turned up for the third week in a row, you'll be placed on hold, the same as every other time, and forced to listen to an advert for all the wonderful programmes that Sky are currently showing.
Yes, it's true, the Sky guy didn't turn up on Saturday.
I first phoned them just after 10 to find out why there was no sign. At that point, I was told that their engineering people would call me back very soon. They had been given my mobile number, which the customer services bod read out... and which was the same wrong number I had corrected two weeks ago. Anyway, that explains why they didn't call last week.
So, I told the person that the number was wrong, and read out the correct number. Which he didn't get. I tried again. This time, he went for a wholly different wrong number. On the third attempt, he got it. At which point I hung up, working on the assumption that things had been corrected, and the engineers would be calling very soon.
(As an aside, I've heard a lot of people complaining about Indian call centres. However, I can now confirm that Scotland-based centres are no better. Sure, you can understand their accents, and they yours, but that doesn't help even slightly when they can't even take down a phone number correctly. It wasn't as though I was speaking fast - I used the same "slow and clear" voice I use with all call centre people. It really doesn't seem to help.)
An hour and a half passed, after which I called again, and spoke to a different person. (You never get the same person twice. This may be so you feel bad about shouting at the person on the phone, since it's not actually their fault their colleagues are useless.) Anyway, I explained the situation, and she checked the records. And found that the second person I spoke to last week, the one who I made faithfully promise that the engineer would actually turn up, had put a note on my account that it was vitally important that the engineer turn up, but hadn't actually gone so far as to book an engineer to come out and do the job. It's a good thing my window was closed at that point, or else I might have engaged in an autodefenestration.
So, the litany of woe continues. They have booked in an engineer for next week, hopefully one who will actually exist, as opposed to the crazy virtual engineers who I've had thus far. They're refunding the money I had to pay to have my account relocated, and also the last month's viewing fees.
Oh, one more wrinkle: the first person who I spoke to, after finally getting the right mobile phone number from me, proceeded to not enter it into their computer. I had to correct the data again in my second call.
The morals of this story are two-fold: firstly, always make sure your windows are closed before calling a "Customer Support" hotline. Secondly, don't dare to dream that people will actually do the things they say they'll do, because they just won't. Next week, I'll regale you with my adventures with not getting Sky this Saturday...
Yes, it's true, the Sky guy didn't turn up on Saturday.
I first phoned them just after 10 to find out why there was no sign. At that point, I was told that their engineering people would call me back very soon. They had been given my mobile number, which the customer services bod read out... and which was the same wrong number I had corrected two weeks ago. Anyway, that explains why they didn't call last week.
So, I told the person that the number was wrong, and read out the correct number. Which he didn't get. I tried again. This time, he went for a wholly different wrong number. On the third attempt, he got it. At which point I hung up, working on the assumption that things had been corrected, and the engineers would be calling very soon.
(As an aside, I've heard a lot of people complaining about Indian call centres. However, I can now confirm that Scotland-based centres are no better. Sure, you can understand their accents, and they yours, but that doesn't help even slightly when they can't even take down a phone number correctly. It wasn't as though I was speaking fast - I used the same "slow and clear" voice I use with all call centre people. It really doesn't seem to help.)
An hour and a half passed, after which I called again, and spoke to a different person. (You never get the same person twice. This may be so you feel bad about shouting at the person on the phone, since it's not actually their fault their colleagues are useless.) Anyway, I explained the situation, and she checked the records. And found that the second person I spoke to last week, the one who I made faithfully promise that the engineer would actually turn up, had put a note on my account that it was vitally important that the engineer turn up, but hadn't actually gone so far as to book an engineer to come out and do the job. It's a good thing my window was closed at that point, or else I might have engaged in an autodefenestration.
So, the litany of woe continues. They have booked in an engineer for next week, hopefully one who will actually exist, as opposed to the crazy virtual engineers who I've had thus far. They're refunding the money I had to pay to have my account relocated, and also the last month's viewing fees.
Oh, one more wrinkle: the first person who I spoke to, after finally getting the right mobile phone number from me, proceeded to not enter it into their computer. I had to correct the data again in my second call.
The morals of this story are two-fold: firstly, always make sure your windows are closed before calling a "Customer Support" hotline. Secondly, don't dare to dream that people will actually do the things they say they'll do, because they just won't. Next week, I'll regale you with my adventures with not getting Sky this Saturday...
Pensions
Periodically, I find myself musing on the whole pension thing. The thing is, we're forever being told that the vast majority of people aren't saving enough for their retirements. Given current levels of debt in this country, that is hardly surprising. However, even people who aren't in debt probably aren't saving enough.
But there's a very good reason why: the whole system is too damn complicated for words.
In theory, pension schemes are straight-forward: each month a percentage of your pay goes into the scheme, the agents use that money to invest for your future, and when you retire it is turned into a magical pot of money on which you live the rest of your life.
However, no-one has ever indicated to me what sort of percentage represents a 'right' value. Or even a sensible value. So, I put a number on a form that means very little to me, try not to worry about it, and in forty years I will get back what? Is the number big enough? Too much? Just right?
So, that's the first complexity. Then there's the issue of multiple pensions. These days, no-one stays in the same job for their entire careers. Consequently, the sensible way of working (non-state) pensions is to have an employee take out an independent pension when they start their first job, and then have each employer pay money into that fund as their career progresses. Since employers already have the ability to pay money to bank accounts direct, why not pensions?
But, of course, it doesn't work like that. I have had four employers. One of these had no pension arrangements at all (rather poor, that). My first employer set me up with an independent scheme, in the exact manner I described above. All nice and sensible. But my previous employer and my current employer each have their own schemes, and wouldn't or couldn't transfer the payments to another schene. So, I'm stuck with three pensions, one of which has a pointlessly negligible amount paid in, a third that is slowly draining of all value, and a third that will be good for a while, but will suffer a great deal if and when I leave my current job. (Which, one way or another, I will do eventually.)
Incidentally, when I joined my second employer, I decided to immediately start paying money into my original pension again (my second company was the one with no scheme). So, I contacted my provider, and had them send out the appropriate form. I never returned it - the form was impossibly complicated, such that I could not complete it. Which is, frankly, ridiculous - all I wanted to do was take X% from my salary and pay it into scheme Y, which should not be a difficult operation.
It should be possible to sort all this out. It probably is possible to sort all this out. But doing so would require employing the services of a financial advisor, which means (a) paying for the priviledge and (b) taking time off work to meet with him, fill in interminable forms, and generally waste time dealing with things that really should just be simple.
My time off work is extremely valuable (conversely, I have no problem whatsoever with paying for financial advice). So this matter drifts...
But there's a very good reason why: the whole system is too damn complicated for words.
In theory, pension schemes are straight-forward: each month a percentage of your pay goes into the scheme, the agents use that money to invest for your future, and when you retire it is turned into a magical pot of money on which you live the rest of your life.
However, no-one has ever indicated to me what sort of percentage represents a 'right' value. Or even a sensible value. So, I put a number on a form that means very little to me, try not to worry about it, and in forty years I will get back what? Is the number big enough? Too much? Just right?
So, that's the first complexity. Then there's the issue of multiple pensions. These days, no-one stays in the same job for their entire careers. Consequently, the sensible way of working (non-state) pensions is to have an employee take out an independent pension when they start their first job, and then have each employer pay money into that fund as their career progresses. Since employers already have the ability to pay money to bank accounts direct, why not pensions?
But, of course, it doesn't work like that. I have had four employers. One of these had no pension arrangements at all (rather poor, that). My first employer set me up with an independent scheme, in the exact manner I described above. All nice and sensible. But my previous employer and my current employer each have their own schemes, and wouldn't or couldn't transfer the payments to another schene. So, I'm stuck with three pensions, one of which has a pointlessly negligible amount paid in, a third that is slowly draining of all value, and a third that will be good for a while, but will suffer a great deal if and when I leave my current job. (Which, one way or another, I will do eventually.)
Incidentally, when I joined my second employer, I decided to immediately start paying money into my original pension again (my second company was the one with no scheme). So, I contacted my provider, and had them send out the appropriate form. I never returned it - the form was impossibly complicated, such that I could not complete it. Which is, frankly, ridiculous - all I wanted to do was take X% from my salary and pay it into scheme Y, which should not be a difficult operation.
It should be possible to sort all this out. It probably is possible to sort all this out. But doing so would require employing the services of a financial advisor, which means (a) paying for the priviledge and (b) taking time off work to meet with him, fill in interminable forms, and generally waste time dealing with things that really should just be simple.
My time off work is extremely valuable (conversely, I have no problem whatsoever with paying for financial advice). So this matter drifts...
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Supporting England
We live in a country in which there is now a pre-teen pregnancy problem. However, in the last day or so, there has been more political reaction to the news that our First Minister, Jack McConnell, won't be supporting England in the World Cup. I don't know whether to be more depressed by this fact, or the fact that I'm not even remotely surprised by it.
Anyway, the question is a valid one: should a Scotsman support the English team in the World Cup? On one level, both are parts of the UK, and so there is some sort of a tie there. On another, Scotland isn't part of England, despite the frequency with which this is conveniently forgotten by people south of the border, so why should we? Especially when our taxes are being used to support the team.
Now, one might argue that, if the positions were reversed, the English would support Scotland in the competition. However, let's consider for a moment just how unlikely that scenario actually is. In order for it to come about, Scotland would have to qualify. This places us in the realm of fantasy anyway. Secondly, England would have to fail to qualify, which hasn't happened in a good many years. It's easy to suggest that the English would support us, when there's no actual chance they'll have to test that.
The other thing that I don't think the English really understand is that the Scots are annoyed by the attitude they display. Firstly, there's the way that if any of our competitors do well, they're British, while if they fail, they're Scottish. You see this in the commentaries all the time. Secondly, whenever an English commentator is talking about a Scottish event, the condescension is sickening. This was particularly bad at the Clyde/Celtic match, in which all the focus was on Roy Keane, because he used to play for Manchester United, and never mind the fact that he played badly, his team played badly, and Clyde scored their greatest victory in decades.
And then there's the "England Expects" attitude. The news reportage we're seeing is all about how England are going to win the World Cup. Every time a competition of this sort comes round, we're subjected to every possible comparison between the current team and the one that lifted the cup in 1966. Never mind the fact that only one comparison actually matters: that team lifted the World Cup. This one has not.
Bluntly, I reckon England had no chance of winning the World Cup before Wayne Rooney was injured. They rely too much on one or two players, and don't have the strength in depth of the teams that are likely to win. I fully expected them to go out in the Quarter Finals, or as soon as they face Brazil. With Wayne Rooney injured, they have even less chance, which puts me in an odd position. You don't get negative probabilities, so how do things get worse from 0% chance? (The truth is that the odds weren't 0%. There was always a tiny chance that their opponents would be wiped out by a freak meteor strike, allowing England to win by default. Therefore, there was always a tiny chance of victory. That is finite, and so can be reduced.)
However, there is one counter argument that is worth mentioning. It does us all good if England wins. True, we'll be subjected to an endless stream of programmes telling us how this is the greatest team ever, that England are the best ever, and on and on and on. But, that's no different from now, except we'll be hit with "2006" instead of "1966". But the truth is that success breeds success. And investment in sport is a good thing, and some of that investment would come up across the border. So, there are some small advantages...
Ultimately, it has to be a question for the individual. There is no right answer. For myself, I will not be supporting England in the World Cup. In fact, I won't be supporting any of the teams, and have remarkably little interest in it. Scotland aren't there, so why do I care at all? Actually, I doubt I'll be watching many of the games at all - I just don't see the point.
Anyway, the question is a valid one: should a Scotsman support the English team in the World Cup? On one level, both are parts of the UK, and so there is some sort of a tie there. On another, Scotland isn't part of England, despite the frequency with which this is conveniently forgotten by people south of the border, so why should we? Especially when our taxes are being used to support the team.
Now, one might argue that, if the positions were reversed, the English would support Scotland in the competition. However, let's consider for a moment just how unlikely that scenario actually is. In order for it to come about, Scotland would have to qualify. This places us in the realm of fantasy anyway. Secondly, England would have to fail to qualify, which hasn't happened in a good many years. It's easy to suggest that the English would support us, when there's no actual chance they'll have to test that.
The other thing that I don't think the English really understand is that the Scots are annoyed by the attitude they display. Firstly, there's the way that if any of our competitors do well, they're British, while if they fail, they're Scottish. You see this in the commentaries all the time. Secondly, whenever an English commentator is talking about a Scottish event, the condescension is sickening. This was particularly bad at the Clyde/Celtic match, in which all the focus was on Roy Keane, because he used to play for Manchester United, and never mind the fact that he played badly, his team played badly, and Clyde scored their greatest victory in decades.
And then there's the "England Expects" attitude. The news reportage we're seeing is all about how England are going to win the World Cup. Every time a competition of this sort comes round, we're subjected to every possible comparison between the current team and the one that lifted the cup in 1966. Never mind the fact that only one comparison actually matters: that team lifted the World Cup. This one has not.
Bluntly, I reckon England had no chance of winning the World Cup before Wayne Rooney was injured. They rely too much on one or two players, and don't have the strength in depth of the teams that are likely to win. I fully expected them to go out in the Quarter Finals, or as soon as they face Brazil. With Wayne Rooney injured, they have even less chance, which puts me in an odd position. You don't get negative probabilities, so how do things get worse from 0% chance? (The truth is that the odds weren't 0%. There was always a tiny chance that their opponents would be wiped out by a freak meteor strike, allowing England to win by default. Therefore, there was always a tiny chance of victory. That is finite, and so can be reduced.)
However, there is one counter argument that is worth mentioning. It does us all good if England wins. True, we'll be subjected to an endless stream of programmes telling us how this is the greatest team ever, that England are the best ever, and on and on and on. But, that's no different from now, except we'll be hit with "2006" instead of "1966". But the truth is that success breeds success. And investment in sport is a good thing, and some of that investment would come up across the border. So, there are some small advantages...
Ultimately, it has to be a question for the individual. There is no right answer. For myself, I will not be supporting England in the World Cup. In fact, I won't be supporting any of the teams, and have remarkably little interest in it. Scotland aren't there, so why do I care at all? Actually, I doubt I'll be watching many of the games at all - I just don't see the point.
Chips!
As long-time readers of this blog know, I missed being able to eat real chips while down in Yeovil. There was nowhere to put a frier, and oven chips are a poor substitute. Even "Home Fries", which are quite nice, are distinctly oven chips, and not at all like real chips.
Sadly, since I moved, my parents have invested in a new frier, on the grounds that the old one broke, and have ended up with a frier that is slightly less effective than thinking warm thoughts in the direction of the chips. So, when I moved back in briefly, the delight of chips was still denied to me.
Fortunately, the story does not end there, for at the weekend I purchased a brand new "3 in 1" frier! My new apartment has a much bigger kitchen, complete with a window I can put right next to a frier, allowing me the use of such an appliance.
Now, the first thing to say about the purchasing experience is that there is a surprisingly small range of friers available, at least in the local Comet store. I had hoped to buy a small frier, capable of doing a small quantity of chips and not much else (and consequently using less energy), but no such luck. Instead, I have had to buy a full-size all-singing all-dancing model.
The second thing to say is that I find the notion of a "3 in 1" frier somewhat amusing. This is an appliance that suspends a basket of food in hot oil. There's nothing fancy about it at all. Claiming it's "3 in 1" is rather disingenuous, even if it does have two different sizes of baskets you can use.
The third thing to say is that when I'm buying a frier with a 2 year guarantee, and given my statuatory rights, I'm probably not going to be interested in your store's special 3 year extended guarantee. Especially when the cost of this guarantee is almost half of the cost of the appliance in the first place - if it breaks in the first few weeks, I'm entitled to a replacement by law. If it goes wrong in the first 2 years, the applicance's guarantee protects me. So, your guarantee is only useful if something goes wrong in year three, and for the money involved I can probably run to the cost of a new frier in that time.
Anyway, yesterday I made use of my new frier for the first time. The upshot: my chips were burnt. It seems the heating element on the appliance is somewhat overzealous, or perhaps it was affected by there being so few chips, but either way, the chips were rather overdone.
Still: real chips!
Sadly, since I moved, my parents have invested in a new frier, on the grounds that the old one broke, and have ended up with a frier that is slightly less effective than thinking warm thoughts in the direction of the chips. So, when I moved back in briefly, the delight of chips was still denied to me.
Fortunately, the story does not end there, for at the weekend I purchased a brand new "3 in 1" frier! My new apartment has a much bigger kitchen, complete with a window I can put right next to a frier, allowing me the use of such an appliance.
Now, the first thing to say about the purchasing experience is that there is a surprisingly small range of friers available, at least in the local Comet store. I had hoped to buy a small frier, capable of doing a small quantity of chips and not much else (and consequently using less energy), but no such luck. Instead, I have had to buy a full-size all-singing all-dancing model.
The second thing to say is that I find the notion of a "3 in 1" frier somewhat amusing. This is an appliance that suspends a basket of food in hot oil. There's nothing fancy about it at all. Claiming it's "3 in 1" is rather disingenuous, even if it does have two different sizes of baskets you can use.
The third thing to say is that when I'm buying a frier with a 2 year guarantee, and given my statuatory rights, I'm probably not going to be interested in your store's special 3 year extended guarantee. Especially when the cost of this guarantee is almost half of the cost of the appliance in the first place - if it breaks in the first few weeks, I'm entitled to a replacement by law. If it goes wrong in the first 2 years, the applicance's guarantee protects me. So, your guarantee is only useful if something goes wrong in year three, and for the money involved I can probably run to the cost of a new frier in that time.
Anyway, yesterday I made use of my new frier for the first time. The upshot: my chips were burnt. It seems the heating element on the appliance is somewhat overzealous, or perhaps it was affected by there being so few chips, but either way, the chips were rather overdone.
Still: real chips!
Three Posts in One Day!
In other news: my wallpaper had not trnsmuted into gold. Nor, indeed, was my broadband connection working.
I did get an email telling me a customer services ticket had been raised, though, and that someone would be in touch, hopefully within 24 hours! Naturally, I'm still waiting.
I did get an email telling me a customer services ticket had been raised, though, and that someone would be in touch, hopefully within 24 hours! Naturally, I'm still waiting.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Broadband Update
My broadband was not connected last night, within the promised three week timeframe. I consequently sent an email to customer services complaining of might plight.
They might have it connected up by the time I go home tonight. And it's possible that my wallpaper will have spontaneously transformed into gold.
They might have it connected up by the time I go home tonight. And it's possible that my wallpaper will have spontaneously transformed into gold.
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