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Life as we know it

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Yes – ’tis that time of year again at which to celebrate The Girl’s birthday…

Hooray and hoorah!

Happy Birthday to The Girl!

It now being (suddenly) autumn here on the west coast of Canada, the weather has given up any pretense of being remotely summery. Today is gray and rainy and no day for going out or doing anything much at all.

Fortunately we already did step out – a couple of nights back – to The Courtney Room at the Magnolia Hotel in Victoria for a very splendid dinner – complete with a quite lovely bottle of St Aubin.

Yum!

The festivities will extend into next weekend when – as I have made mention of previously elsewhere – we head to Vancouver to see Peter Gabriel (and to do other celebratory things!)

What jolly japes!

Happy Birthday!

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Robbie Robertson

1943 – 2023

RIP


It has been a sad year for those who are involved with… or who have an interest in… or who are passionate about… the business of music. Yet another of our creative giants has succumbed to age and/or illness. Canadians, naturally, need little encouragement to celebrate one of their own greats; in this case the inimitable Robbie Robertson, who sadly passed away yesterday at the age of 80.

We were, last night, at this year’s penultimate Music in the Park in Brentwood Bay and the evening’s act – local cover band, ‘Shaky Ground’ – were moved to knock out a slightly chaotic (and definitely un-rehearsed!) rendition of ‘The Weight‘ as a tribute. It seemed  apposite in its sincerity (much as did the version of “Imagine” unexpectedly rendered by Freddie Mercury and Brian May of Queen at Wembley Arena in London all those years ago the night after John Lennon was shot in New York).

I posted to this blog back in 2016 a piece entitled The Boy(s) in the Band – having attended an audience with Robertson at the Farquhar Auditorium at the University of Victoria on the occasion of the publication of the first volume of his autobiography – ‘Testimony‘. If you should not be Canadian – and perhaps thus less likely to know the detail of Robertson’s background – that piece might offer a useful starting point. I also strongly recommend Daniel Roher’s excellent documentary – “Once Were Brothers” – which can be found on one or more of the usual streaming services.

In another of my earlier posts – from even longer ago, back in 2013 – I made reference to Robbie’s wonderful album – “Music for the Native Americans“, the which draws on his First Nations heritage. This I also strongly recommend.

Rest in peace.

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Sinead O’Connor

1966 – 2023

RIP

There is something particularly touching about the considerable flood of obituaries, epitaphs and opinion pieces that have followed the news of the extremely sad passing of Sinead O’Connor. There is also a touch of irony in the fact that – for much of her career – she gave the strong impression that she would be only too happy should the spotlight not be upon her. She was clearly most uncomfortable with the whole fame and recognition side of the business, professing not unreasonably that she was a protest singer rather a ‘pop star’ (whatever that may be taken to be).

In pondering the obvious strength of feeling concerning this most talented Irish singer one should perhaps look a little beyond her huge gift and wonder why it was that we are so attracted to someone who so clearly struggled with elements of her life. Could it be that – fascinated as many are at the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the ‘business of show’ – even more of us are drawn to those who struggle with the messiness of their own existences. Mayhap they – in some way – speak to and for us all in their obvious distress?

I need say no more. The press and the InterWebNet are full of the loving eulogies of those who really knew her.

Like many other ‘average Joes’ I came to Sinead’s work through the sublime “No-one Compares 2 U” and the excellent album “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got”. If my memory can be relied upon (!) I saw her perform just once – when she was briefly a part of Peter Gabriel’s “Secret World” tour back in 1992 (or thereabouts). I am very glad that I did so.

Rest in peace.

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“Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats”

Voltaire

26th & 27th May

Though we did not get back to the hotel until after 1:00am in the early hours of the morning of 26th May, The Girl was awake again at 4:30am and calling BA on the phone. Following a lengthy exchange she was able to get our Johannesburg flight switched to the following day, 27th May. We rebooked our connecting flights in Africa accordingly.

At around 10:00am I took a taxi back to Terminal 5 to try to locate our luggage. There were long queues of unhappy passengers outside the baggage office but they were not answering any queries. The BA management staff in the terminal would only say that we must log our missing baggage online and await a response. There was a heavy security presence in the terminal which was a good thing as the arrivals hall was teeming with unhappy travelers. Whilst I was there one hysterical young lady threw herself at one of the BA managers – apparently (though perhaps unsurprisingly) aiming to do him some harm. Shortly thereafter the security presence was reinforced by police officers. I beat a retreat.

During the afternoon we tried to log our missing bags online but the system was not working properly and would not record the details. We spent several more hours on the phone to BA and the missing luggage was finally appropriately recorded.

On waking on the morning of the 27th May we found that we had been sent email notifications overnight to the effect that our safari bags had been flown to Johannesburg on 26th May, but were by that time enroute back to the UK – though on different flights. A rapid calculation of flight times made it very clear that we could not be reunited with our bags in time to check in for that evening’s flight.

As detailed in my initial Africa posting, our trip was to have been a safari, staying in remote lodges (without wifi, Internet or cellular access) and traveling between them in small planes. We had purchased bags specifically sized to the requirements of these internal flights (maximum (W) 10” x (H) 12” x (L) 24”) and all of our clothing and other accoutrements had been chosen to be as small/light as possible.

We were supposed to have flown to Johannesburg, switched within a few hours to a local airline for the short hop to Maun, where we would have been met off the plane and transferred immediately to a small aircraft to be flown to the first safari lodge. There was no feasible way that we could have replaced our missing luggage whilst on the journey and without these items there was no possibility of completing the trip as planned. We had by this point rebooked our African internal flights twice – with no hope of a refund – and it felt as though we were just spending more and more money with no guarantee of being able to reach any of our destinations.

With immense reluctance we decided that we had no choice but to abandon our trip of a lifetime and to head back to Canada.

Much of the 27th May was taken up with a series of phone calls to BA, trying to change our booking to get us back to Victoria by any route. The BA agents told us that it was not possible to do this without paying extra charges and that we would have to find a further $1,500 CAD each to get home via Vancouver. This was adding insult upon injury for something that was never our fault.  We were not – at any point in the whole sorry saga – offered by BA the alternative of abandoning our trip and going home.

Again it seemed as though we had no choice but to pay up, which we reluctantly did on the afternoon of the 27th May. Further anxiety was induced when BA initially charged the wrong amount to my credit card, which – when they subsequently corrected it – resulted in my card being blocked until I had made another international call to my credit card company to resolve the issue.

We flew back to Victoria via Vancouver on 30th May, after the Bank Holiday on the 29th and, to our surprise (having received no notification), found my wife’s missing safari bag on the baggage carousel at Vancouver. It was another four days before I finally received notification that my bag was also enroute to Victoria and I had to go to the airport myself on the 4th June to collect it.

The whole experience was enormously stressful for us both. We did everything we could to join our safari and to continue the trip, but British Airways thwarted us at every step. We are well aware that BA has form in such matters and that this not by any means being the first such IT related incident. Little – if anything – seems to have been learned about how to resolve such self-inflicted issues.

With the exception of the small number of staff who did their best to support anxious and confused passengers, British Airway’s handling of the whole sorry saga was in the main obstructive, unhelpful and dismissive.Their only response (when questioned) was to state that all must be resolved online – which is richly ironic given that their IT systems were in meltdown. When we resorted to the inevitably extremely lengthy phone calls (during which we were almost driven insane by the endlessly repeated ‘hold music’) we found ourselves speaking to agents who were clearly a very long way away on different sides of the planet and who were equipped with a limited script outwith which they could not venture. Anything further meant an agonising wait for a call-back (which might or might not materialise) to inform us of the outcome of some other unknowable procedure that had been suggested by a faceless BA ‘supervisor’.

If I give the impression that we are angry about the whole fiasco – then that is because we are! We are still trying to recover whatever we can of the considerable outlay that we had made on this supposed trip of a lifetime, but as you might expect – BA (and others) do not make it easy so to do.

Well – I think… I hope!… that that is quite enough about this particular subject.

Moving on!…

 

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We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us

Henry David Thoreau

Thursday 25th May

On Thursday May 25th  – having taken a couple of nights to recover from our extended flight from Canada – The Girl and I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 5 a little after 2:00pm to check-in for our 7:05pm flight to Johannesburg. We had attempted to check-in online before leaving for the airport but the online system was not working. On arrival at the terminal, we found that none of the check-in stations were working either. We were told at the Club Class check-in desk that there had been a major IT systems failure (the which would ultimately lead to well over 200 flights being cancelled). We were checked in by hand and headed for the Club Lounge.

We could immediately see from the departure displays that European and domestic flights were being cancelled in increasing numbers, though long-distance flights seemed at that point still to be operating. At around 5:00pm there was an announcement that all European and domestic flights after 6:00pm would be cancelled – and shortly thereafter came an announcement that our flight would be delayed overnight!

As we had a connection in Johannesburg for an onward flight to Maun – in Botswana – to join our safari, we immediately endeavoured to find an alternative flight that would arrive in time. We were directed to a variety of different gates, waited patiently in queues, talked to BA reps who had no idea what was going on… but it was clear that they really just wanted people to leave the airport and to go away. After a couple of hours of this we finally we gave up and returned to the Club Lounge. We enquired at the BA desk there and the agent was able to find spaces on a later BA flight – scheduled to depart at 9:25pm. We were only able to get economy seats, but we felt this was worth the trouble as we had a connecting flight and a safari to join.

As soon as the departure gate was announced we headed for Satellite C and joined the throng of passengers already there. We could see the aircraft from the gate but shortly afterwards there was tannoy announcement that this flight would also be delayed.  We learned that the aircraft had a mechanical fault which was being worked on. As time passed all of us at the gate grew increasingly concerned that the flight would not get away and, sure enough – at around 11:30pm – it was finally cancelled. By this stage we had been in the terminal for nearly 10 hours.

We were told that we must leave the satellite and walk back through the underground passageways (alongside the no-longer operating transit system) to the main terminal building – collect our baggage from the allotted carousel and make our own arrangements to stay the night somewhere.  As this was likely the last flight that was cancelled that day, the thousands of other disrupted passengers had already found accommodation and there were no hotel rooms to be had anywhere in the vicinity.

Our luggage did not appear on the carousel. The only BA staff in the terminal rapidly disappeared and there was no-one to assist us. Whilst I searched for our bags The Girl contacted the Club World Desk to enquire about flights the following day. She was told that they were fully booked and that there was nothing that could be done to help us.  I called the hotel at which we had been staying for the previous few nights and they took pity on us and found us a room.

My brother – extraordinarily kindly – went above and beyond in getting out of bed and driving over to the airport to rescue us and to take us to the hotel. We definitely owe him for that (and for many other things) – big time!

The day had been exhausting and scary… in that we had no idea what would happen next, or how we might save our trip of a lifetime from coming to a premature and expensive end. To find out how things turned out the gentle reader must needs check in to the final installment of this saga…

…next time!

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“I have noticed that, with few exceptions, men bungle their affairs. Everywhere I see incompetence rampant, incompetence triumphant…I have accepted the universality of incompetence.”

Laurence J. Peter
‘The Peter Principle’

Long term perusers of these gentle meanderings will no doubt be aware that – the occasional rant aside (usually concerning matters political) – I am not in the habit of ‘trash-talking’ anyone or anything that might – for whatever reason – have of late aroused my ire.

Should you utilise the search function built into this site to seek out occurrences of the term ‘incompetence’ – for example – you would find but a handful of posts, of which only two concern the performance of an organisation with which I was obliged to deal. Those two posts refer to a single incident back in 2014 when the UK’s national communications carrier – British Telecom – contrived to leave us without telephone or Internet access for six weeks over Christmas and the New Year.

Given our recent experiences in the travel line you will probably not be surprised that I am about to add another couple of posts (or more!) that will share the same tag. Regrettably this example also involves a corporation that lays claim to be a UK national carrier – though of a rather different commodity. I refer, of course, to British Airways.

Back in 2019 we were also out and about around the globe – paying our first visit to the UK since emigrating in 2015 and adding on at the end a rather lovely little cruising sojourn in the Greek islands as a means of relaxing and recuperating. We flew from London to Athens and back (somewhat against my better judgement) on British Airways – who proved to be all too competent at extracting from us the cash to cover the pre-booking of extra legroom seats – but all too incompetent in the manner in which they re-assigned those seats on the return journey to other people and bumped us to the window-less back row of the aircraft. Naturally they also subsequently omitted to reimburse us. I swore mightily that I would never again fly with BA – an oath which I sadly let slip upon discovering that they alone had the best price/availability for this year’s attempted safari trip to Africa.

Now, I apologise in advance for the length of this diatribe, but I am eager to reveal the exact extent of the amateurishness (with further apologies to real amateurs) of the service provided by pretty much all concerned in this wretched business.

Here is the first part (or pre-amble):

Having decided upon our long-dreamt-of trip to the African continent (specifically a safari excursion to Botswana and to Victoria Falls) back in December last, we duly booked flights with British Airways from Victoria to London (via Seattle) for 22nd May – and on to Johannesburg for 25th May. We made a further onward booking to Maun in Botswana with a regional airline. The return flights were booked for 6th June from Johannesburg to London and then back to Victoria (via Seattle) on 11th June. All BA flights were booked in Club Class except for the short hop from Victoria to Seattle and back.

The Girl and I each made our own bookings so that we could use our own credit cards and/or points, but were assured that the two bookings could be ‘tied’ together.

Over the ensuing five months until we traveled we spent a great deal of time and money purchasing specific clothing and gear for our safari as detailed in previous posts.  The excitement was building.

Over the months leading up to our departure BA made a number of changes to our bookings; altering the time of the Seattle/London flight; cancelling the return Seattle/Victoria flight (which necessitated us staying an extra night in Seattle at our expense); changing the aircraft type for the Seattle/London leg (and seating us in different parts of the aircraft in the process)… before finally – 24 hours before our departure – cancelling the following day’s Seattle to London flight and re-booking us on an American Airways flight in economy! After a long and feisty phone conversation with a BA agent (on the part of The Girl), we were re-routed on an Aer Lingus flight from Seattle to London via Dublin – in Club Class.

Our journey from Victoria to London was at least for the most part comfortable and pleasant (kudos to Aer Lingus), even if rather longer than originally planned.

You will be unsurprised to hear that none of our dealings with BA to this point inspired confidence. The experience was, however, nothing compared with that which was to follow…

…for talk of which the gentle reader must patiently await the next post.

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Glenda Jackson

1936 – 2023

RIP

 Victuallers and the authors of en:Glenda Jackson and en:Candice Bergen (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:May9_Woman_of_the_Day.png), „May9 Woman of the Day“, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/legalcode

 

Very sad to hear of the passing of Glenda Jackson. The United Kingdom has – during my lifetime – produced such an extraordinary run of incredibly talented actors and actresses that sometimes the details of individual careers can be taken a little for granted. Glenda Jackson was one of the brightest of acting talents back in the 60s and 70s and it is all the more to her credit that she moved on from acting to a career in politics – believing fervently as she did that she could make a difference and do some good for the less fortunate subjects of the UK.

It is a great shame that not of all those who entered politics during this period (and subsequently) have held such high moral standards and noble intentions – or behaved with such integrity.

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For God’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d;
All murder’d: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be fear’d and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable, and humour’d thus
Comes at the last and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

William Shakespeare – Richard II

Out here on the far distant west coast of Canada it feels a long way away from today’s events in London. I was not of a mind to get up in the middle of the night to watch the Coronation events unfold, though I will no doubt catch up with the news coverage later.

I am a staunch believer in the monarchy, although this is as much for fear of there being something far, far worse in its place should the republican adherents ever get their way. They protest loudly that as a nation Great Britain should be able to choose an elected and accountable head of state; and that somehow not to do so infantilises us. I’m afraid to say that, over this last decade, we have done ourselves no favours at all through our wildly negligent choices and find ourselves as a result sadly diminished as a nation. Not exactly a good precedent.

I wish Charles the very best fortune in his long anticipated role. I can’t say that he looks exactly comfortable with it but I do believe that he still has some power to do good.

Back in October last – when writing about my Canadian Citizenship Ceremony – I wrote of the strangeness of being obliged to swear allegiance to the monarch – something I had never done as a Brit. Interesting to see that, as an optional element in the Coronation rituals, the population of the United Kingdom have now been invited to do the same.

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Target – an indicator established to determine how successfully you are achieving an objective.

Goal – an indicator established to determine whether you have achieved your objective.

I had an email from an advisor at my bank just today. The lady responsible for it ‘reached out‘ to me (thanks for that!) to enquire as to whether (or not) I was ‘on track to reach all of my goals‘.

I pondered awhile as to how my career as a global music megastar was progressing – what the likelihood of a multi-billion dollar lottery win was – or indeed how my devious plans for world domination were shaping up…

I replied to the nice lady that – as far as I could tell – I was roughly on track to reach such goals as I had.

This did remind me, however, that I owe the gentle (and most patient) reader an brief list of our goals (and possibly targets!) for 2023. After all – we are now half way through February and my promise to deliver same is as yet outstanding.

OK – here we go.

So – after our big trip to Europe last year this will obviously be a quiet, ‘home-ish’ sort of a year – our aims and ambitions being not dissimilar to those to which we have aspired ever since the pandemic broke…

…except…

…such a lack of ambition simply does not sit comfortably with – The Girl. She argues – persuasively – that if there are places to which we might desire to travel, then the time so to do is now – before I move into another and even more expensive (particularly in terms of travel insurance) decade. Who can tell – she further reasons – how long we will be fit enough for such bold venturing?

Now, though she has already traveled pretty widely, her bucket list has for a long time included an expedition to Africa – in particular to go on safari to Botswana and to the Victoria Falls.

This, then, is what we are going to be doing at the end of May and into June this very year. Such a venture does not come cheap, particularly as we are no longer prepared to set forth on such a long haul faced with the relative privations of economy class. To help fund my part in this  lavish expedition I have had to take on the teaching of a double course this term at the College. As long as that in itself doesn’t do me in I figure I should be fit and ready to go by mid-May.

It is going to be an altogether wonderful, splendid (if somewhat unanticipated) venture and you, gentle readers, will be hearing and seeing a great deal more about it as we progress through the first half of the year.

Such is the mental magnitude of the undertaking that we don’t have much space left in our imaginations at this juncture to conjure up other aims and ambitions for the year – with the exception of a musical ambition on my part. The Chanteuse and I have decreed that this year we should prepare ourselves to perform live. Even should we not manage so to do before the year’s end – we will be ready and raring to go immediately thereafter. More on this also –  later in the year.

Well! Who saw that coming?

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Burt Bacharach

1928 – 2023

RIP

Phil Guest from Bournemouth, UK, Burt Bacharach 2013 (9219552969), CC BY-SA 2.0I mentioned only the other day in this forum that it was deeply saddening that we seem in these times to be losing so many of those giants upon whose shoulders sit the artists, thinkers, creators, sports-folk and even (dare I say it) politicians to whom we turn in these troubled times.

Now another has gone – and this time one for whom the soubriquet ‘legend’ is surely inarguable.

I am not going to enumerate the many classics that Burt Bacharach penned throughout his lengthy career, not tell you any of the details of his life. That is for the hoards of obituarists who have already covered many miles of paper with appropriately glowing eulogies.

I am instead simply going to recall the one occasion on which The Girl and I saw Bacharach in concert – in Pergugia at the Jazz Festival. This was during his eightieth year; fourteen years ago. His voice had by that time passed its best and he very sensibly employed three different singers to cover his beautiful songs, whilst he played piano and led the orchestra.

To our surprise he started with a ten-minute medley of some of his greatest hits. Having finished this he set out on another. We observed to each other that it was a rare star who thus disposed of his major hits within the first twenty minutes of a show.

Bacharach simply played on… giving us a further two and a half hours of greatest hits. What a catalog – and what a fantastic show! The sentiment that came most frequently into our minds during this magical concert was: “I didn’t know he wrote that!”.

Well – he did!

We will not see his like again.

Rest in Peace

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