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One world together

April 20, 2020 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

Photo by Markus Spiske from PexelsWatching the ‘One World Together at Home’ extravaganza on TV the other night somewhat inevitably brought back memories of that particular sunny Saturday back in July 1985 – and of how we all dropped in and out of the TV coverage of Live Aid… on the day that we were going to feed the world.

That unlikely day was not the last time that the music industry tried to save the world. Nor was it the last on which it was both praised and lambasted for so doing. There is for me something genuinely affecting and stirring in our pampered pop princes and princesses getting together to do something selfless for others (the gentle reader will observe that I have exercised my prerogative not to be cynical but instead to believe in only in the highest motives on all parts). In any case – those who are susceptible to being moved will be moved and those who enjoy a good whinge once again get the opportunity to indulge themselves… so everybody’s happy (or not!)…

On this occasion our musical exemplars were not themselves saving the world (this was no fundraiser like Live Aid) but they were, on our behalf, lauding and thanking those who actually are so doing… the essential workers – the wonderful and brave doctors, nurses and other healthcare workers, the shop workers, delivery drivers and cleaners. Strange how so many of these essential workers – who take their lives into their hands to protect and to help others – often receive the most humble of remunerations for so doing, whilst those who are paid as though they actually are essential can choose which of their homes to ‘work’ from. Plus ça change…

Aside from the goodness of the cause in either case another reason why Saturday’s broadcast brought to mind those events from thirty five years ago was that we were once again wowed (those of us old enough not to be totally blasé in the face of such ‘magic’) by the technological miracle by which means the events were effected. Back in the mid 80s the notion of having a major live concert running simultaneously in two countries (with feeds from many others) and of (relatively) seamlessly switching from one continent to another – not just on TV but in the stadia themselves – seemed incredible. That the much abused Phil Collins could perform on both stages courtesy of the singular contrivance that was Concorde simply added to the legerdemain.

Now – that concert took several armies of technicians on two continents to pull off and to cover on live TV. Had it not been for Bob Geldof’s legendary bloody-mindedness it would probably not have happened as it did. This week’s event – given the very different circumstances under which it took place – may well have involved a (somewhat smaller) army, but also one which was dispersed, fragmented and sequestered. The technology that was used to pull together eight hours of material from living rooms, gardens and home studios was as impressive in its own very different way as was that used back in 1985 – however much we now take these things for granted. Kudos to the increasingly impressive Lady Gaga for fulfilling the Geldof role on this occasion and for making this all happen.

As on the earlier occasion emotions were played upon, tears were shed and resolutions made. Let us do our damnedest to stick to them.

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O Canada (post!) – 2

March 13, 2019 in Flotsam and Jetsam | Permalink

(The second in what I fear may become a less than occasional series…)

Whereas The Girl and I do have a TV component to our cable contract (the big fat broadband connection being our prime concern!) I think it is fair to say that the majority of the content that comprises our televisual viewing is in fact streamed across the InterWebNet. The exact ‘what’ and ‘where’ of that which we stream is immaterial and will thus – for the purposes of this anecdote – remain an enigma!

The TV that we acquired with our property is plenty big enough (in my book) and whilst it may not be equipped with all of the latest bells and whistles (and indeed may not run at the sort of resolution that seems de rigueur nowadays) does plenty well enough for an old Luddite like me. The Girl may well disagree (she does!) and I feel sure that – at some stage – a fancy new device will be purchased.

For now, though, streaming video to the TV screen requires the intervention of a separate box of tricks and we have – since our arrival in Canada – utilised for this purpose an old computer that one of the terribly smart techie chaps in my team at my last school kindly refurbished for me. This device was pretty long in the tooth even then and is a lot older now. As is the way of such things it eventually developed a fault – the which manifested itself in the display of random lines across the screen at vital moments. This grew steadily worse until the challenge became to spot what was actually going on on the TV behind a blizzard of random visual effects.

This was – naturally – causing some friction within this happy home so I contacted said tech wizard (the one who had put the system together) and – as is the way these days – he connected to my humble computer from the other side of the world and investigated it remotely. He gave me his diagnosis:

“It’s f*cked!“, he told me.

Time to buy a new machine. Naturally it is now possible to replace the hulking tower that we had cobbled together with a tiny wee box about the size of a paperback novel, which will do everything and more at three times the speed. I ordered a prime example of same and sat back to await delivery.

Over to Canada Post…

Now – being keen to be able to follow the rugby again (and indeed to indulge in food ‘porn’) I carefully followed the online tracking most helpfully provided as part of the service. I was delighted to see my package on target to be delivered ahead of the advertised schedule. I watched it make its way across from the mainland in the middle of the night and saw it leave Victoria to head for Sidney before finally being delivered into our community mailbox.

I happily trotted up the road and unlocked our box.

Nothing!

Now – the way the community letter boxes work is as follows: each house has a letter sized locker and at the bottom of each stack there are a couple of larger lockers for parcels too big to fit in the normal one. If one receives a package it is placed in one of these larger lockers and the key thereto is posted into one’s normal locker. One retrieves the package and pops the key back into the posting box.

In this instance there were three possibilities: the package had not after all been delivered – or it was in the locker but no key had been posted – or it was in the locker and the key had been posted into the wrong mailbox! Naturally I called Canada Post and opened an enquiry. I also visited my local Canada Post office and pleaded with them and I repeatedly scanned the online tracking to see if anything further had been logged. All told me the same story. They would look into it but it might take three days or so to figure out what had happened.

Sure enough, three days later I had a phone call – from Canada Post. They assured me that the package was indeed in one of the bottom lockers (where it had been all along) and that a key had now been posted for me. All very well – I thought – but that means that a postman had visited the community box three days running and stood within inches of my sad, cold package and not done the decent thing and provided me with a key.

Now – how difficult would it have been to check this on the day that I reported it?

Hmmm!

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Masters of the Pacific Coast

August 2, 2016 in Life in BC | Permalink

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI have endeavoured within these jottings over the past four and more years to record at least some information that might be of use to others contemplating relocating from their various loci on the planet – to Canada… and in particular to the Pacific northwest. I have not been alone in doing this, of course, there being plentiful sources of such information on the InterWebNet.

It strikes me that this combined pool of knowledge might find itself increasingly in demand as the uncertain political situation in the UK and in Europe continues to evolve. Should this November’s election south of the border here produce the outcome that all sane men and women must surely be praying could never happen, interest in this idyllic corner of the globe might sky-rocket.

Of course – this ‘public service’ is only a part of the brief that I set myself when inaugurating my own humble ramblings. One of the main reasons for continuing to record our progress, as we departed the English home-counties and commenced the long process of settling in on the coast of British Columbia, is to better inform our loved-ones, our friends and those with whom we have become acquainted over the years on either side of the pond, about the places in which we have been fortunate enough to reside and of the peoples who live there.

Whilst yet in England I tried to give a flavour of life there for those who live in Canada and elsewhere. Now that we are in B.C. I do my best to provide a balanced and compelling – if inevitably partial – descriptive and visual depiction of this beautiful part of the world for all those who have an interest therein.

With this mission in mind I was delighted to find the other day – on the BBC’s fourth TV channel, BBC4 – the first of a two-part documentary by British Museum archaeologist Dr. Jago Cooper, entitled ‘Masters of the Pacific Coast: The Tribes of the American Northwest‘. This exquisitely filmed programme muses upon the extraordinary resilience of the indigenous peoples of the Pacific northwest who have evolved an intricate and sophisticated culture over a 10,000 year period – without ever ‘resorting’ to agriculture!

The programme is fascinating and delightful and offers a good picture of the history of this rugged coast. More information may be gleaned from this review by Marina Vaizey on theartsdesk.com, and the first part of the documentary can be found on the BBC iPlayer – for those who have access to such. The final part will be shown on BBC4 this Thursday – 4th August.

Were the film to do no more than to offer images of the ravishing beauty of this land I would find myself quite choked up thereby. It is, of course, much more that just that as The Arts Desk review attests:

“The programme did with an ease of manner what television in Reithian mode can do so well: deliver a plethora of unfamiliar facts anchored by the amiable charm of a scholarly presenter, made memorable by endless scenes of beautiful wilderness and occasional surprises.”

I firmly recommend catching this documentary before it disappears from the iPlayer.

Erratum – I see that the second part was on today, Wednesday 3rd. Sorry about that. Thank goodness for the iPlayer!

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