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Modern life

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Where we live…

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It is really not that far short of two months since I wrote this blog piece in which I described the business necessarily involved in a visit to one’s local grocery store (supermarket). I ended that post with the expression of a fear of just how long the restrictions then newly imposed might need to remain in place – and of how the public might react when that fact became apparent.

Here we are two months down the line and it is fascinating to observer how what then seemed like an emergency provision has after all become what is described by that increasingly hackneyed phrase – the ‘New Normal’. The business of grocery shopping here is still essentially as I described it then, but with significant improvements to the first ‘draft’. Other things have changed as well – some of them less expected.

The whole bulk-food section has gone (to be replaced by shelf-loads of properly packaged offerings) as have the fresh fish and meat counters. The one-way system around the store has been refined and the checkouts now have plexiglass screens not only between the masked operatives and the customers but also between adjacent lines. Customers have also become more adept at the delicate dance of avoidance that we all perform around the aisles. Finally, even those of us ideologically opposed to the practice have adopted the use of ‘tapping’ at the credit card machines so that no direct touching is required.

The biggest practical change, however, occurred a couple of weeks back. I had been going to the store once a week early in the morning and queuing with all of the other anxious shoppers. Then – without any warning – the queues vanished. On no occasion since then have I had to wait at all to enter the store – I have just swanned right on in.

Other elements that are rapidly becoming ritualised in the ‘2N’ include the return home. Mine goes like this:

  • Carry the disposable (paper) bags of shopping into the house. Place on the floor.
  • Remove the disposable gloves that I wear in the store and wash hands.
  • Remove each item from the bags and carefully wipe it down using hand sanitiser and kitchen towel.
  • Dispose of bags.
  • Wash hands.
  • Using hand sanitiser and towel wipe down steering wheel, door handles and other controls in the SUV.
  • Wipe down front door handles and locks.
  • Wipe down keys, man-bag and glasses.
  • Wash hands.
  • Put away groceries.

Now – some of this may seem over the top… or not – depending on how rigorous the gentle reader has determined is necessary in his or her particular circumstances. We wear cloth face masks when we go to stores. Others don’t.

It is somewhat depressing to think that this might be how we live now for an extended period, but we can certainly do it. It is the other things that feel to be a greater loss – socialising with others – dining out – going to the theatre – music in the parks and suchlike…

Those I really do miss…

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“There is no longer such a thing as strategy; there is only crisis management.”

Robert McNamara

…which may well be true – particularly at the moment. What most of us are doing would definitely not count as strategy and I’m pretty certain that that goes for many of the world’s leaders as well. Some of them are palpably not even aiming for management…

The world is in a deathly strange place right now – and all is uncharted territory! Nothing that we knew before seems to apply any more.

And then there’s shopping! Not just exotic or even casual shopping – the sort of thing that used to fill rather too much of our time and would produce unpredictable – if not always unpleasant – results. No – I am referring to that simple, routine and essential round of visiting those commonplace purveyors of comestibles – the grocery stores/supermarkets – call them what you will…

It seems likely that throughout the world what was once a familiar ritual (or chore, depending on your point of view) has been transformed utterly into a mysterious and really rather threatening procedure, throughout which one constantly expects the sirens to start wailing, the searchlights to pierce the darkness and those masked agents of authority to swoop out of the shadows to haul one away for some uncomprehended infringement.

I exaggerate of course (though dramatic effect seems somehow superfluous in these dark days) but nowhere near as much one might have guessed before this all started.

Anyway – this is how it goes at our local Thrifty’s…

One aims to get there early – to avoid the crowds. The car park is sparsely occupied which gives one a false sense of optimism. The main entrance to the store – with automatic doors facing three ways – has been reconfigured to allow ingress and egress through two of those openings. A member of staff is on permanent duty there to ensure that people are only going in one direction at a time.

Only a very limited number of shoppers are being allowed in to the store at any point. Shoppers going in queue by one of the doors. This queue snakes round the side of the building and adheres to the spacing set by the big back crosses marked on the paving – each two metres apart. When one reaches the front of the queue one waits to be summoned inside. A trolley is offered and carefully sanitised by the staff member before one is allowed in.

Inside the store everyone struggles to stay two metres apart. We all pass down the aisles in the same direction, waiting for spaces to open up before we enter the aisle.

No bulk foods are available, though staff have  pre-packaged a reasonably selection of what is normally on offer. The fresh meat and fish counters are closed – and again there are more pre-packaged offerings than are usual for Canada (in the UK there is often a lot of pre-packaged fresh fish for example; in Canada there is rarely any – we get it done freshly by the fish guy). There is still a good selection of produce in store and whilst I was there last there were three semis (articulated lorries) outside unloading more supplies.

Every other checkout is closed so that you don’t stand next to someone else and again there are boxes marked on the floor two metres apart to control the queues. If one wishes to use one’s own reusable bags – as did I – one must pack for oneself (again – most Canadians expect the checkout person to pack) and the bags must be left in the cart and not placed on the checkout ‘desk’. The checkout operator sanitised the card reader between each use. I asked her what would happen if the moisture were to damage the reader. She told me they would simply get out another one.

The whole experience had a somewhat surreal post-apocalyptic air about it – as though one were visiting a hospital – or a morgue…

It is good to see everyone abiding by these necessary but completely foreign precautions. Perhaps we can get through this by working together. My fear is that when people realise just how extended this period is likely to be they will lose interest in being responsible.

Let us hope not – for all our sakes.

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“Doing a documentary is about discovering, being open, learning, and following curiosity.”

Spike Jonze

In the UK there is currently a general election taking place. This is not – of course – news to those who reside there. Canada has just been through a very pale shadow of what the UK is experiencing with its own federal election, following which those who are of a mind with me (and those like me) breathed a sigh of relief at the outcome. It could have been much, much worse.

I am not going to say anything at all about the UK’s election (for now at least) except that I fear that the old country is not going to be as lucky as much of Canada feels itself to be at the moment.

Elections do bring out the very worst in people though – and I am not just referring to the politicians and their lackeys (and masters!). One area in which this manifests itself in the UK is in regard to the BBC, against which even more bile is directed than usual.

Now – I have become slightly dismayed at the loss of nerve suffered by this august institution over the last few years, though I fully understand the reasons that this has happened. However, I do feel that those in charge simply have to stand up for themselves a little more and dig in against the constant wail of criticism from those who abhor public services of any kind; more specifically those who bitterly resent paying for something that they absolutely do not (and should not) control.

It is no secret that I am a huge fan of the corporation and have over the years admired significant swathes of its output. In particular this year I have been most impressed by the breadth and depth of its documentary offerings, particularly at a juncture at which knowledge – and thus truth – are at an all time premium.

I have – for example – in the recent past praised within these musings the BBC’s strands on the anniversary of the Troubles in Northern Ireland; important and invaluable contributions that are most timely. Here I want to mention two more offerings with which I was much impressed of late:

The first concerns one of my heroes – the author Bruce Chatwin – and is entitled ‘Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin’. When Chatwin was dying of AIDS, his friend Werner Herzog made a final visit. As a parting gift, Chatwin gave him his rucksack. Thirty years later, Herzog set out to make this film of his own journey, inspired by Chatwin’s passion for the nomadic life. The 100% positive critics’ reviews on Rotten Tomatoes should tell you all you need to know about the film.

Chatwin’s ’The Songlines’ was an enormous influence on me. I have purchased the book a number of times and each time lent it – terminally as it turns out – to others to read. I guess it is time to buy another copy!

The other inspirational program was the taping of this year’s ‘Dimbleby Lecture’ from the Design Museum in London. Sir Tim Berners-Lee gave a stark warning on the direction that his gift to human-kind – the  World Wide Web – has taken of late and a call to arms to put in place a remedy that might hopefully restore its original promise. I could write much more on this topic and at some point might just do so.

In the meantime I urge all of like mind to support the BBC – whilst it is yet possible so to do.

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Wednesday mornings (for another week at least) find me up at crack of dawn (literally!) getting ready to wend my way in to the College for an early lecture.

Even at the height of summer my thought processes do not run very rapidly such an antisocial time of day. In the winter – when it is still dark as I stumble into the shower and fumble with the controls to turn the hot water on full – I barely register as a life form.

It follows – ergo – that nothing much of any import passes through my mind at this point. Thus is was this morning that my usual befuddled musings on the state of the world were unexpectedly leavened somewhat by the sudden thought that – unlike other recent years – at least in this one we have not suffered a relentless tide of deaths amongst the great and the good (or celebrities at the very least).

On arrival at the college and having a few minutes before my lecture I checked the BBC news headlines. Amongst the top stories were announcements of the following deaths:

  • Gary Rhodes – one of the first of the TV celebrity chefs, who influenced many that followed. Gary was the cousin (I think) of a friend of a friend and I met him once at a party. He seemed pleasant enough and he was very tall…
  • Clive James – Australian who made the UK his home – writer, program maker and TV critic for The Observer newspaper in the UK. We loved Clive’s dry wit and brilliant way with words and he was a fixture in our younger days.
  • Jonathan Miller – satirist, writer, opera director, medical consultant and polymath. He was one of the four great names that came out of the Footlights review – ‘Beyond the Fringe’ – back in the 60s, along with Peter Cook, Dudley Moore and Alan Bennett (who is now the only survivor). Jonathan was alumnus of the final school at which I worked and the new theatre there is named for him. Back in the 80s at some point he came to the college of the University of London at which I then worked to give a talk on a book that he had recently published on re-interpreting Shakespeare. It was called ‘Subsequent Performances’ and I still have my copy. He spoke brilliantly without notes for forty five minutes and then did as long again answering questions – also without notes and also quite brilliantly!

These souls will all be sadly missed and yet more figures from our younger and formative days are now no more.

So – that thought of mine in the shower… Synchronicity or what? – (probably ‘or what’!).

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Phew!

Yesterday Canada went to the polls for the second general (federal) election since we arrived back on these shores in 2015; the first – that same year- having been won by pretty-boy Justin Trudeau’s Liberals.

The consensus here seems to be that the campaign that preceded this vote was one of the most bitter in memory. All I can say is that compared to UK politics – and of course to those in the US – the whole affair here has been relatively brief, painless and without any of the sort of rancour to which we have sadly become accustomed elsewhere in the world.

Some of that is because Canadians are such darned nice people whose instincts – in the main – seem to be slightly liberal (just left of centre). Maybe that’s just a west coast thing though; one does hear stories about Alberta!…

Anyhow – I am very happy to report that not only was the whole thing over in no time at all (the BBC helpfully points out that the entire Canadian general election campaign took about the same time as the gap between the third and fourth (of 12!) Democratic primary debates in the US) but also the now somewhat tarnished Liberals finally limped back over the line, albeit without their previous majority.

No matter! Given that the alternative would have been the rebarbative Tories we consider that we have had a very lucky escape (and there are those in the UK who would say an envious ‘amen’ to that).

And – of course – here on the peninsula we still have a Green MP, the redoubtable Elizabeth May. The leader of the Green party now has two companions from across Canada to keep her company, which will also be nice!

 

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WTF…

Image from Pixabay…is going on in the UK? (subtext: with Bre**it!)

Safe to say that this (or a more polite form of it) is the question that I get asked more than any other – as a Brit – here on the west coast of Canada. Usually the best I can do is to reassure Canadians that no-one back in old Blighty has much of a clue either.

After today’s momentous events in the Supreme Court I feel that some further enlightenment is required. Being myself totally unqualified to offer any such (though I accept that that doesn’t usually stop me) I am directing the gentle reader to this useful opinion piece by Rafael Behr in The Guardian.

It will certainly do a better job than could I!

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“Come back!” the Caterpillar called after her. “I’ve something important to say.”
This sounded promising, certainly. Alice turned and came back again.
“Keep your temper,” said the Caterpillar.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

Well – this little corner of the year always takes me by surprise – comprising as it does an unexpected overload of events/things to do/world-wide happenings etc…

Sometimes it all feels as though it is just a little bit too much, but – hey! – it’s not as though I am supposed to be retired and taking it easy or anything, is it?

Oh – wait…

So – what has been/still is going on:

  • the end of August is Fringe time – and this year was no exception. I will report back further on how that went in a future post.
  • the academic year has just restarted. This morning at 8:30am (brutal!) I was facing a new class of 32 keen-eyed students. My timetable is somewhat unkind. More on that later also.
  • the Kickass Canada Girl (who grows more kickass by the day) is about to spend four days on another course. For logistical reasons the instructors – who hail from Vancouver – are staying with us for the duration of the course. This has meant that we must…
  • …finish off the redecoration of our big ‘family’ room downstairs (more on that too) and put our guest suite back into service.
  • the garden – as ever – demands constant attention.
  • I have been working hard to prepare a whole bunch of tracks for mastering, so that we can finally get some music up on the web. More on that… you get the idea!
  • Brexit rumbles on in ever more convoluted contortions and the Canadian election campaign is about to kick off. I will do my best not to comment on either, but you know how it goes…

 

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As an addendum to my post on the documentary concerning The Troubles in Northern Ireland that was shown recently on the BBC I thought I should make mention of a second BBC programme that was broadcast but a short while later.

This excellent and most moving film – by director Sam Collyns – concerned the assassination of Lord Louis Mountbatten (second cousin once removed to the Queen) at Mullaghmore in County Sligo, in the Republic of Ireland. The programme also detailed the bomb attack that was carried out on the same day at Warrenpoint on the Irish border, the which resulted in the single greatest loss of life suffered by the UK armed forces during the conflict. I was particularly moved by the testimony of those who lost loved ones on that dark day – not least one of Mountbatten’s granddaughters who was able most eloquently to put into words the terrible and lasting void left by that senseless act.

The reason for these documentaries being shown in such quick succession is that their respective anniversaries – of the start of the troubles in 1969 and of the death of Lord Mountbatten ten years later in 1979 – both took place during the month of August, at a time when many peoples would have been thinking more of holidays, sunshine and relaxation. Mountbatten was himself, of course, on a family holiday at the time of the tragedy.

August 27th 1979 was a bank holiday Monday in the UK (in Canada this would be called a long weekend). The date sticks clearly in my mind because the band in which I then played (my first band) had driven from London to Edinburgh overnight that very day to commence a week of engagements playing at the Fringe Club (then as now this bank holiday fell during the Edinburgh festivals). The first that we knew of these atrocities was watching the news reports on the TV screens in a bar on the south side of the city. Two of our number hailed from Belfast and we were all too aware of the significance of what had happened, which led to a somewhat sombre evening.

It feels strange to be living in a time when the memories of those appalling events appear to have faded sufficiently into the historical past that the pale shadows of politicians that we now suffer can in such a cavalier fashion set a course of action that is quite likely to have all too foreseeable and catastrophic consequences.

That is – however – exactly what they appear to be intent on doing.

One of the most telling elements of the documentary was its confirmation that the IRA’s then Chief of Staff – Martin McGuinness – must have given approval for the assassination, regardless of the fact that it was known that the boat on which Mountbatten was murdered would also have been carrying children and other family members. McGuinness went on to become Northern Ireland’s First Minister once the Good Friday Agreement had brought a close to that sad period in Ireland’s history and the documentary featured again the momentous occasion on which the Queen visited Belfast and shook McGuinness’s hand – an act which must have been hideously difficult for all that it symbolically confirmed the peace accord.

The role that the Queen has been obliged to carry out today in acceding to PM Johnson’s mischievous prorogation of parliament is far, far less noble, but may yet have consequences that last as long.

Sad times indeed!

 

 

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Hmmm!

I received in my mailbox just the other day an email circular from the medical practice with which I am registered. The communication commenced thus:

Andrew,

Need a pap? If you have a cervix and are over the age of 25, get it checked!

Now – I think that it is safe to surmise that this message was generated automatically. At least – that is what I going to assume because the alternative is that those professionals who operate the practice actually produced that missive without spotting the obvious – which would be worrying on many levels…

But then – why should we expect artificial intelligence to be any smarter than that on which it is modelled!

 

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