web analytics

Songs of farewell

Troop_ship_farewell_(000304-01)Towards the end of the morning on Friday last the academic year finally futtered to a close, the boys executed an Alice Cooper-esque exit from the premises and the teaching staff – dazzled by the prospect of several months of much needed downtime and recuperation – wasted no time in scurrying en-masse out of the School gates and – in some cases – directly to the airport.

I have known – by acquaintance at least – some of these individuals for getting on for a decade and I doubt if I will see many of them again. With a very small number of exceptions no goodbyes were exchanged. They were in a hurry to get away – I was busy trying to sort out an unexpected and unwanted communications problem.

I have no complaints…

A little more than a month ago – in conversation with my line manager (the Chief Operations Officer) – I expressed a fervent wish that I be able to avoid as much as possible of the usual round of farewells – dinners, speeches in the Common Room, mentions in despatches – and all other such discomforts.

Good luck with that!“, was his assessment of my chances.

By my own criteria I have been remarkably successful at avoiding the worst of it, though a fair amount of ducking and diving has been required so to effect.

I can sense that some might be horrified by my attitude in this regard – indeed, a few have expressed such to me directly. I entirely understand that denying others an opportunity to express appreciation can actually be quite selfish, and it is not something of which I am particularly proud. Perhaps I should have ‘cowboy-ed up’ (as the Girl is wont so say) and got on with it.

I have no doubt that my experience as a child of any appreciation of achievement being expressed in only the most restrained of fashions was a generational one and I certainly hold nothing against my parents in this regard – but I can’t help thinking that this has probably played its part in my subsequent discomfort on finding myself the object of approbation. I know that Mother and Father were proud of some of the things that I did, because I have since heard through third parties that this was so.

I believe that my judgement is reasonably sound when it comes to determining which of the things that I have done have been of value, whether that be in my chosen profession or in my artistic endeavors. I find it very difficult to accept praise for things that I do not think have been done well.

In one extreme but illustrative example of the sort of difficulties I encounter I was once a small part of a production which received for its final performance an extended and – in my view – well deserved standing ovation – for completely the wrong reasons. The audience applauded the manner in which we dealt with an incident on stage rather than the quality of the performance. This upset me to a disproportionate degree.

The intensity of my feelings of embarrassment upon being the object of eulogy is apparently not confined to that which is said – but also can arise from that which is not… whether that be by the omission of reference to achievements of which I am quite proud, or through knowledge that some present do not actually agree with the sentiments that are being expressed… in which situation I have found myself in the past.

As will be clear from this diatribe I really am quite conflicted over this business, which should go some little way to explaining my preference for shying away from the whole kit and caboodle.

But then – maybe I am just over-thinking things…

One…

Image from Pixabay

 

…day more this week…

 

…week more this academic year…

 

…fortnight more until retirement…

 

 

Come on! You can do this…

Now eat the pie!

Image from PixabayBy the time we leave our Berkshire residence – in a little more than a month’s time – we will have been in occupation for just under four years.

We have greatly enjoyed living in such a lovely, quiet, rural location, but we are very much looking forward not only to actually owning the house in which we live in but also to having a whole property to ourselves. Renting an apartment is all very well but it ain’t the same, and it has been more than a decade and a half now since I lived in an actual house.

One thing which I have absolutely no recollection at all of noticing when we first explored the grounds that surround the elegant property of which our apartment is but a portion… is the rabbits!

Which is odd…

Because there are now hundreds of them!

OK – yes – I do know that that is what rabbits do… but from there being no population at all to the current multitude would seem to me to be pretty good going even so.

I throw back the curtains of a morning to greet the day and there – sitting on the lawn in the hazy sunlight – is an arc of rabbits, all sitting perfectly motionless looking up at the house. They are frozen into postures as though having been caught in the act – but of doing what?

“Blimey!” – I exclaim to the Kickass Canada Girl, who is still in bed – “It’s like Watership Down out there”. She scathes me with a bleary look and grunts (delicately!)…

It does make one wonder, though. What do all those rabbits do out there (apart from the obvious)? What can they be thinking? Are they just waiting for us to move out – so that they can move in? Will the next occupants trip lightly across the threshold and throw the light switch to be greeted by a veritable sea of bunny eyes all looking up at them – in a guiltily petrified tableau – from the drawing room carpet?

Who knows?

 

Aaaaaaaargh!!

Old friend

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidIt takes a long time to grow an old friend.

John Leonard

Back in the day – when this blog were a mere stripling and I had only just taken delivery of the Fuji x10 – I posted hereon some of the fruits of my first tentative photographic explorations. Of the image reproduced here I wrote:

“This is a most treasured possession of mine – the 1966 Omega Seamaster that the Kickass Canada Girl gave me as a wedding gift. It could do with a new crystal, but it is a thing of beauty and a timeless classic…”

Towards the end of last year the Seamaster abruptly ceased its measured recording of the passage of time and demanded some rare TLC. For one reason or another (time… money…) it was subsequently tucked away in its box and, if not forgotten, at least roundly ignored for a while.

By the time Easter hove into view I had built up a sufficient debt of guilt that I felt obliged to seek out some suitably dependable enterprise with whom I might entrust my precious timepiece. This naturally took some research – mostly of the InterWebNet variety – but did in the end produce precisely the result that I had sought.

The proprietor of Abacus Associates of Richmond in Surrey (the UK variants of both) has 40 years experience in the servicing of chronometers by such esteemed watchmakers as Rolex and Omega. Subsequent to the fall from fashion of mechanical movements in favour of quartz during the 70s and 80s and the concomitant reduction in demand for the old skills he became Lecturer in Horology at the British Horological Institute in Manchester.

That Abacus Associates’ services are now once again in demand is a result of the resurgence of interest in – and the desirability of – the mechanical watch. This is in part because the substitution of mobile devices such as smartphones and tablets for the conventional timepiece has rendered the cheap digital watch practically superfluous. The futurist author William Gibson writes:

“Mechanical watches are so brilliantly unnecessary. Any Swatch or Casio keeps better time, and high-end contemporary Swiss watches are priced like small cars. But mechanical watches partake of what my friend John Clute calls the Tamagotchi Gesture. They’re pointless in a peculiarly needful way; they’re comforting precisely because they require tending.”

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidHe’s not wrong – and my beloved Seamaster certainly did need tending. The end result – the watch having now been given a thorough cleanse and service, and the seals, crystal and strap having all been replaced – is that it now looks even shinier and more beautiful than before.

I may – as a side effect – be lacking an arm and a leg, but it has been well worth it!

March moments

“Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.”

Ogden Nash 

A few images from the mad month of March:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

We rather liked this pub sign…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Humble P-i!

iThose unfortunate enough to have strayed within range of one of my intemperate expostulations on the subject of Apple Inc (a tester of which may be sampled here and here) will be well aware that – even though I have the greatest respect for many of the design elements evident in their product line – I really don’t much care for the ‘richest company in all the world‘ at all. I guess that their ethos explains just how they came to be so fabulously wealthy, but that don’t mean that it’s necessarily a good thing… any more so than are tabloid newspapers, reality TV shows, throwing Christians to the Lions or the ‘spectacle’ of the guillotine!…

See what I mean by ‘intemperate’?

Soooooo…..

I might at some point have waxed rather more lyrical on the subject of the splendid Galaxy Note – which device has seen me across the Atlantic and back safely and sanely over the last few tempestuous years. In my mind’s eye I pictured this excellent gizmo travelling once more across the pond this summer, to forge a new partnership with some fresh-faced Canadian telecommunications giant.

Alas it was not to be. Toward the end of last week the beautiful and capacious AMOLED screen suddenly and without warning died completely. Efforts both on my part and of the technical whizz-kids that I employ proved unable to restore it to life. It is – sadly – no more.

A number of pardoxical perceptions flashed across my mind:

  • I did not want to do anything that would extend my mobile contract in the UK beyond the summer – for obvious reasons
  • I really should wait until we get to BC before signing up to a new deal and replacing the handset
  • I really cannot be without a mobile phone right now – as things hot up on the emigration front

Now – one of the advantages of working in IT and being responsible for the School’s phones is that there are usually a selection of recently ‘retired’ handsets lying around. With luck one of them might take my SIM and get me back on the air. Unfortunately – just at the moment there didn’t seem to be much choice…

OK – you see where this is going. The only phone available to tide me over until we leave for Canadian shores was made by a company named after a fruit and starts with an ‘i’!

Bah!

Angel numbers

angel-297830_1280Idling perusing the WordPress dashboard after my last post a few days ago I was struck by the (mildly) interesting fact that I had apparently posted three hundred and thirty (333) scintillating missives since I started this blog in 2012.

Pleased by the symmetry of the digits (and being slightly smugly aware that as I have been blogging now for just over three years my average is one hundred and eleven (111) posts per year) I casually fired up Google and typed the number into the search box.

Blimey!

So – Angel Numbers! What’s that all about?

I’m actually not going to write anything myself on the topic at all. As you will see should you follow my (Google) lead the InterWebNet is quite full enough already of the weird and the wonderful – and amusing as it may all be I don’t feel the need to add to the canon. Should the number 333 hold some deeper fascination for you then you can read further here and here. If the whole notion of Angel Numbers causes bells to chime in your head then you should probably get help will doubtless find what you seek online. In spades!

Some people clearly make a living from this stuff… but since I somewhat carelessly launched myself into this strange other-world I am really in no position to cavil. Oh well!

Moving on…

 

This is – of course – post number 334!

 

Shaking a stick

Black_and_White_Stick_BrokenMy attention was drawn to one of the more light-hearted items on a recent edition of Newnight. (For Canadians and others not resident in the UK, Newsnight is a daily BBC current affairs analysis programme). The piece concerned what was purported to have been the ‘must have’ gift of the Christmas season not long passed.

This oh-so desirable object – that which apparently appeared at the top of so many yuletide wish-lists – was… (wait for it…) – a stick!

To be precise – the ‘selfie stick’!

You might at this point suspect that you detect in my tone a hint of sarcasm. You would be right so to do.

OK – I am an old fart – but I just don’t get the whole notion of the ‘selfie’. It seems to have grown out of the seemingly instatiable desire with which some are afflicted, to record the fact of their presence wherever they may be on the planet. A few decades back the advent of the lightweight digital camera provided tourists and others with the ideal means of so doing, to the immense chagrin of the rest of us who actually prefer to interact with, or gaze in contemplation upon, the exciting new places that we are visiting. Travelling to the far corners of the globe to take picture of ourselves – rather than of those distant exotic locales – seems to me beyond the absurd.

I recall one visit to the Louvre some years back that was all but ruined for me by a hoard of tourists from another part of the globe. I wished only to stand in awe, drinking in the sensuous detail of the copy of the statue of the Three Graces. I was prevented from so doing by the endless procession of snap-happy subjects eager to have recorded their very presence in front of said marble icon – but facing away from it. I gave up and left.

The selfie itself (fnar!) was, of course, made possible by two further inventions – the camera equipped mobile phone and the means to upload the output thereof to the InterWebNet. By use of these tools the self(ie)-obsessed can not only record but also publish the fact of their presence anywhere upon the planet – at any point – within seconds!

The basic question, however, remains unanswered… Why?

For those who have not yet encountered this bizarely popular object, the ‘selfie stick’ is a pretty crude tool that allows one to hold one’s mobile phone at somewhat more than arms-length whilst snapping away. Presumably the intention is to enable one to include even more gurning idiots in the resultant snap than could otherwise be captured!

What bemuses me more than anything, though, is that most of the images that one sees thus presented are – to be quite frank – pretty poor! If I wanted to display simulacra of myself upon the InterWebNet (and I don’t – I really don’t!) – I would want them to be as flattering as they could be. Heck! – I’d hire a professional portrait photographer to make sure that I looked as good as is humanly possible!

But then – as I said – I clearly don’t get it

 

Too clever by half

Image from OpenClipArtFirst things first…

My humble apologies to the reader who is possessed of – and insists upon using – an iImplement of any hue. Any such who endeavoured to look upon the images recently uploaded to this unassuming journal will doubtless have noticed that they have – in terms of orientation and scaling – appeared somewhat out of kilter.

That I had not myself noticed this issue before now is entirely due to the fact that when viewed through a Windows based browser all appears as it should. In any case, the site has now been fixed and should render properly on all platforms.

The problem arose – as is all too often the case these days – because the technologies involved are trying just that little bit too hard to be clever.

I fear that I am not a fan of software that tries to second-guess what I am aiming to accomplish, and even less if it thinks that it can help me to achieve same. It is extremely rare in such circumstances that I end up with that which I actually want – rather than with something that a faceless corporation thinks I should want. As a result, whenever I install a new app or item of software which is endowed with any such smart-arse automation features my first reaction is to seek out the settings menu and to disable the lot of them. Should this not be possible then it is extremely unlikely that the wretched thing will remain long in my possession.

ErrorMsg08I am reminded here of the erstwhile Microsoft Office Assistant – that built-in help system to the Office ‘Desktop Productivity Suite’ (yeuch!) that at one point took the form of an animated cartoon paper-clip (humorously named ‘Clippy’) that would pop up at inopportune moments with ‘helpful’ advice.

This anthropomorphic little gimmick annoyed people to such an extent that it was eventually and unceremoniously killed off, to the cheers of all concerned.

Clippy was also – and not surprisingly – extensively parodied… one of my particular favourite examples being that appended here.

“What the blazes” – I hear you cry – “does this have to do with the photos on your blog?”

Bear with me and I will explain…

Modern digital cameras record – alongside the images themselves – a considerable amount of information pertaining thereto. This information – known as metadata – includes such items as the camera settings, the date and time that the pictures were taken and even, on some cameras, the associated GPS co-ordinates. Much of this data is stored alongside the images themselves in a format called the EXtended Image Format – or EXIF.

One item thus recorded is the orientation of each photograph. The camera has a sensor that tells it which way up it is, and when one rotates it through 90 degrees to get a ‘portrait’ shot rather than the standard ‘landscape’ variant the camera records this.

All well and good thus far. The problems start when the image is transferred to a computer for processing. I always check images on my PC before uploading them to this blog, so that I can adjust light and colour values and do any cropping necessary. Now – much Windows based image handling software completely ignores the EXIF data and, as a result, portrait oriented images are displayed sideways. I can rotate these images manually to get them the right way up, but the fact that I have done so is not recorded by any modification of the orientation data that accompanies the image.

What happens next depends once again on the software concerned. When I upload an image to a WordPress site – such as this blog – the EXIF data goes along with it and is stored – in some form – in the WordPress database. When a picture on the blog is viewed through a browser both the image and the metadata are passed to the viewer.

Windows browsers ignore the EXIF data and render the picture as I wish it to be seen – rotated manually to the correct orientation. IOS on the other hand – on all those iThings – determines from the EXIF orientation data that the picture was originally taken at a 90 degree angle and rotates it once more, making it once again come out sideways.

There appears to be no way of instructing any of the software concerned to modify this behaviour. What makes matters worse is that things are not consistent. As software versions change so also does the the default image handling behaviour. This latest problem appears to have arisen a couple of months ago from a change in the way that WordPress handles image uploads. I can tell this because images uploaded prior to this point still render as expected, but those taken subsequently do not.

The answer that I have adopted – you will not be surprised to hear – is to do the job myself. I use a basic image editor to orient the photo the way that I want it and I now use an EXIF editor to remove the orientation field completely to prevent further manipulation. This is – frankly –  all a total pain and should not be necessary.

As ever the problem really arises because users want one thing and the software and hardware vendors want another. Both are keen on clever gadgets that make life easier, but users would like these to adhere to standards so that everything plays nicely together, whereas the hardware and software manufacturers design their fancy must-have toys so that they are sufficiently different to those from other vendors that – once suckered in – the poor shopper has no choice but to go on spending his or her hard-earned cash on their goodies alone.

We are – it would seem – very well endowed with clever developers and designers who are capable of inventing quite unbelievably smart gizmos. Sadly we are also encumbered by lousy marketing and sales functionaries who can only figure out how to generate a revenue stream therefrom by being a total pain in the arse.

Sadly it was ever thus!

 

What he said…

SoNot for the first time in my life, yesterday found me (re-)creating my very own ‘déjà vu’ experience.

There – that’s a suitably enigmatic opening!

This is – of course – just another way of reporting that the Kickass Canada Girl and I once again spent a splendid evening in the presence of Mr Peter Gabriel at the Wembley Arena. The ‘remembered event’ sensation comes about because – as I have myself been able to do once before – we saw again essentially the same show as we experienced just over a year ago.

Mr Gabriel – mayhap in the autumn of his career as a performer – prefers his tours to be spread out over a suitably relaxed time period, presumably to ensure that he – along with his increasingly – er – mature ensemble – make it through the rigours thereof intact. He has thus gotten into the habit of starting a tour around these parts – venturing forth into the world (in this case for a little over a year) – before returning to a hero’s welcome to play a few final shows back where the tour started.

Thus is was that for the second time I was able to catch the same show twice – after a gap in each case of about a year…

…and bloomin’ good he was too!

Still – rather than repeat myself (again! – (see what I did there?)) – why not re-read the equivalent post from last year…

You might just experience a similar sensation!