Whatever Happened To Integrity ???

This title is a bit pompous considering the topic and subject matter but I'm seriously pissed off and need to vent somewhere.

In the beginning, God created The Heavens and The Earth. And God saw that this was good. Then God created BBC1 in black and white and thought this was pretty good too. Next He created ITV1 to give a bit of competition and this was even better.

I'd better get off this biblical way of talking before I upset someone.

So, hard on the heels of these 2 channels came a third called......BBC2. We're not very creative when naming our tv channels.

Years later we got colour and a couple of other channels called Channel 4 and Channel 5.
Yes, the creative juices still weren't flowing.

We got these channels from an aerial on our roofs which looked like they'd been devised by preteens out of old wire coat hangers and some super glue and which doubled as perches for the local bird population. It was all vey low tech but it worked well enough in the days before we needed widescreen, plasma and HD Ready sets to better watch Richard & Judy.

But since the arrival of Sky TV way back in 1763 or some such year in the distant past, we who love watching tv have been 'blessed' with more and more television channels to help kill what brain cells remain.

Ok I agree, in my case, not that many.

I was one of the first to get a dish strapped to my house and back in those days, it was a dish large enough to be used as a backup for NASA if they needed to communicate with the Space Shuttle. I remember it collected snow better than an oversized wellie and in winter when this happened, I'd lose the picture and have to go upstairs, lean out the back bedroom window, and use a water filled fairy liquid bottle to dislodge the buildup of snow. Mr. Marconi would've been proud.

Then our street got cable and I jumped ship and went with it. The road since then has been winding and often full of potholes and I'm not talking about the physical road either.

Over the years the number of channels has expanded exponentially but as happened in America decades ago, the overall quality dropped just as fast. If I discount sports and movie channels (which are awesome of course), there are probably half a dozen worth watching on a regular basis and yet at the last count, I pay for well over 150.

BBC and ITV haven't been slow to jump on this bandwagon and we've now got BBC3, BBC4, BBC5, ITV2, ITV3 and so on. Obviously those in the channel naming department went on sabatical many years ago and never came back.

With so many channels trying to buy up the few quality shows available, it's obvious that at times we, the paying viewers, are left with dross and drivel to keep us on our couches. It's just not good enough - literally.

And this finally brings me to what has got me steamed up. I hate being taken for a ride. I hate being led astray. And almost as much, I hate it when I see it happening to others.

Spending half my year in America, I watch a lot of their shows over there and like to continue watching them here in the UK as well. So I know a bit more than most about US shows. Many are taken up by one UK channel or another and I've long since ceased to be amazed how a prime time, and thus very successful, US show ends up being broadcast here on some minor cable channel in the small hours of the morning. Vive la difference and so on.

Anyway for the last few weeks we have been getting previews and promos for a new US series called Smith, starring the relatively well known actor, Ray Liotta. The pilot was broadcast last night (Tues) on ITV4 at 10pm. When I saw the first preview and learned that this show was to be broadcast here I was amazed. Why ?

Well because only 3 episodes were ever shown in the US before the series was cancelled. Indeed only 7 episodes were ever recorded and the last 4 were available only on the internet some months ago. That was it. No more Smith and obviously no storyline ending, good or bad.

Has this stopped ITV4 picking up this series and showing it here ? Nope.
Has ITV4 kept it low key so that viewers don't get hooked on it ? Nope.
Has ITV4 informed viewers up front that it will suddenly end after 7 episodes ? Nope.
Is this an outrageous way to treat ITV4 viewers ? YES.

It was bad enough that in the previews and promo adverts for the show they called it a 'hit' US series. What criteria would class a show that is canned after 3 episodes a 'hit' ??

But even worse is not telling viewers up front that there are only 7 episodes - although it's obvious why they don't. That's right, who would watch when they know it'll end abruptly with no closure ?

So in true Mr. Angry mode I emailed ITV4 to ask both those questions and today I got their reply........a reply that just about sums up their contempt for their viewers and is also a sad commentary on tv in this country now.

Basically there are 24 hours to fill every day and we'll broadcast anything we can as long as we get advertising revenue - which, after all, is what it's all about.

I give you their reply, brief as it is, and see what you think...............................

Thank you for your email.

They used the word 'hit' as the programme was well received by some
critics.

We can confirm that ITV4 has acquired 7 episodes of this series. There
will be an on-air announcement when episode 7 is shown that it's the
final episode of the series.

Regards

ITV Duty Officer

Ok so in the great scheme of things this is hardly blogworthy stuff.

But it made me angry and having typed this, I'm not so angry anymore.

Beats taking a pill.

Now where did I put that remote....................

Lunar Eclipse

I've never really been one for getting excited about solar or lunar eclipses and the lunar eclipse tonight has been no exception.

Having said that, I decided to nip outside at about 21:15 tonight and take some photos of it as there were no clouds to speak off and who knows, I might never see one this clear again.

I took about 12 photos at different times over the next 45 minutes until there was little left of the moon to see. It did 'turn' a sort of orange/brown colour quite early on which the news articles had said it would - so that was cool.

I've only got a 200mm lens so sadly I didn't get images like we'll probably see from the professionals and so on tomorrow, but as always with my photos, I know I was there and they are digital memories I'll have forever. Or until my hard drive gets corrupted !!

















I merged 3 photos together to show this sequence. Notice how the moon passed from it's normal colour to the orange/brown hue mentioned above.

I went out a few minutes ago (23:35) and there is no sign of the moon at all. This is because the earth's shadow is still covering it and this is called totality. I hope you're taking in all this good science stuff as I'll be asking questions later.

Totality is due to end shortly and I assume things will happen in reverse of what I watched earlier. I'll let it do it's thing without me as it's cold, I can imagine what it'll be like, Big Momma's House 2 is about to start and my hot chocolate is steaming next to me.

What can I tell ya ? At my age I like my comfort.

We Live In Sad Sad Times

They say that the days of innocence have long gone and that nowadays everyone is so concerned about personal safety that a simple smile in passing can be construed as sexual harassment. I'd have to say THEY are right.

I decided to be lazy and drive the short distance to Roundhay Park and instead, get my exercise walking around and taking photos of whatever caught my eye. I walked down the steps of Hill 60 and came upon the small childrens playground across from the fire damaged cafe on the lake.

I really wanted to experiment with the various settings on my new camera and I especially wanted to take action shots to test out it's ability to keep the subject in sharp focus no matter how fast and how erratically it moved. A playground would've been a great place to do this testing given the various swinging, sliding, and generally moving children on display there. But I knew that standing there taking photos would've probably made the parents uneasy and so I decided not to bother.

An ice cream van was parked at the side of this playground and this I DID want to photograph as they are not common in America and so I wanted it for this blog. I set up the tripod and was sorting out the camera when I noticed a park warden approaching me. He asked me what I thought I was doing and I politely told him exactly what I thought I was doing........taking a photo of an ice cream van. "So you're not taking photos of the kids ?" he said. I felt my face going red......not with embarassment but with anger.

"Well if one or two happen to go to the van for an ice cream just as I snap the photo, then maybe" I replied. "Are you accusing me of being a paedophile or something?" He went on to say that taking photos around a kids playground is not a good idea and even that parents do not like photos being taken of their kids without permission.

Now while I agree with the basic premise of his statement about photographing kids, it's a sad sad situation that today makes a decent honest and trustworthy person feel like a social outcast simply for wanting to take innocent photos in a public park. I'm not sure to what lengths he would've gone to stop me, being that I WAS in a public place after all, but I didn't want any more people staring at me and so I just said I'd move on and if it was ok with him, take photos of the ducks and swans.

As an act of rebellion against Mr. Jobsworth Warden of Roundhay Park, here is that ice cream van complete with kid and mother - both of whom were in no danger from yours truely at any time. Mind you, I really did fancy a cone and having taken no money with me, I did think about mugging the kid for his.

Oh I'm joking.....I'm joking. For goodness sake, people.

Mr. Warden would've been better off sorting out the numerous dog owners who let their unleashed animals roam all over the place peeing and crapping at will AND the litter louts who continue to think that their pockets should never be soiled by sweet wrappers as long as grass and concrete alternatives exist. Grrrrrrrr.

While on the subject of 'the times we live in', I went into a local pub last week to ask for a copy of their meal menu to take home with me. Being a cold winter's day and given that I've only a few more hairs than Homer Simpson, I was wearing a comfy and practical baseball cap. When I went up to the bar I was immediately asked to remove it. I said I was only in to get a menu but Mr. Barman insisted I take off my cap or leave. I left.

I was passing this unnamed pub the next day (The Bull on Harrogate road) and went in (capless this time) and asked why I'd been effectively asked to leave the day before ? Mr. Barman said he was only following orders. Where have I heard THAT excuse before.

Anyway he said it was a security directive from Head Office that all peaked caps had to be removed so that the cameras could better 'see' everyone's face just in case it was needed for a subsequent appearance on Crimewatch UK. I asked if he'd have refused admission to some old Yorkshire codger with a flat cap if he'd been determined not to part with it ? He umm'd and ahhh'd and said probably not. Baseball cap discrimination I shrieked. Well I didn't, but I thought it.

The thing is, I'd have taken my cap off out of good manners if I'd been stopping for a drink or a meal but all I wanted was a menu !! Sad times indeed.

But back to happier times and my stroll through the park this afternoon. The sun made brief but very welcome appearances from time to time and cheered up an otherwise dull and slightly miserable park. Parks never look their best in winter as there are few colourful flowers to perk up the huge expanses of greenery.

I did find some flowers though.....near the park entrance. Not being a green fingered expert or anything, I've no idea what they're called but in an otherwise world of green, they provided a lovely contrast.

Being mid afternoon on an early March weekday, I pretty much had the park to myself - well apart from the pre school kids of course but lets not go THERE again, officer !

So there was no one around to tick me off for stepping in amongst the flower beds to take these shots. However I can categorically state that no flowers were hurt in the taking of these photos. Well maybe one or two but, hey, they were slightly drooping anyway so I really just did them a kindness.

These white and purple ones were very nice and if anyone knows what they are called, please feel free to add a comment and I'll edit the text later.

Oh but before I leave Roundhay Park, I'd better include a photo of a swan seeing as I told Mr. Warden that I was heading off to photograph one.

I kept the lens safely pointed out onto the lake so as not to risk a kid sneaking into the frame and causing me untold grief. I took several shots of the swans gliding serenely along - as they do - but the one I like best is the one below, when one swan had finished giving itself a good clean and raised itself up to give it's wings a vigorous air drying.

It was quite a sight and was all over in a few seconds but thanks to the camera's ability to take 3 frames per second, I got the whole sequence. This is at the mid point of the procedure and also provides the most dramatic shot.

It reminded me of one of those water rides at Alton Towers or some such theme park where the customers climb 'into' a swan boat for a self propelled paddle around the lake.

As usual, nature provides a much better spectacle and I'll stick to the real thing.

I crossed the road to Tropical World but as it was just after 3:30pm, it was closed for the day. Thankfully I hadn't wanted to go in anyway but I think it's pretty miserable that it closes so early in winter.

But as the lemurs are outside the main 'world', I was at least able to take a few pics of them. At first glance they look like cute little furry critters but if you click on this photo and examine it's teeth, you'll see that they could give you a nasty bite if you were stupid enough to poke your fingers through to them.

Ok so the glass makes this a very unlikely occurance but the point is, IF you ever come across one out in the wild, say whilst shopping in Sainsburys or next to your table at a McDonalds, then do NOT go "awwwww look at the cute little furry thingy" and stick a digit near it's mouth.

It'll have it off faster that you can say..........ohhhh that'll sting in the morning !

But they CAN look cute so I've included a 2nd photo of one that tried to stare me down - and succeeded.

Well actually I let it win as it's a dumb animal after all and needs to feel a bit superior now and then. It can dine out for a while on the story of the day it stared down the stupid looking, non furry, not at all cute human and kicked ass.

Next to the lemurs there was a small pool with huge fishy things passing their lives away without the need for tv or the internet or anything good really.

Right above them, literally, were several colourful ducks. I use the general term here as I'm sure someone will point out that these are not ducks at all - but this is a blog people and I'm no David Attenborough or even Rolf Harris. I do have a beard though, oh and glasses too. I'm a bit overweight and I do have a hard to understand accent. And I can't sing. Hey maybe I AM Rolf Harris. Nah, I KNOW I can't sing.

Anyhoooo, back to these ducks. See, this is what I meant by wanting to take photos and not having to worry about who or what is in the shot - except when I want them to be.

Yes the shot of the duck alone would be quite nice. It was posing as only a duck can.

But click on the photo to enlarge it and have a look at the face of the little boy. You can't pay for that kind of childish reaction. Is it dangerous ? Isn't it pretty ? Will it fly away if I get closer ? Should I run away if IT gets closer ? Would it go better with rice or a baked potato ?

It's all there on his face and I never asked for permission. I'm a rebel.

The next 2 photos are really just your standard shots. The first one I like as this duck had just had a shower under the water that was pouring out of a pipe that was keeping the pool levels topped up. The droplets are still on it's head and seconds after I took the shot, it shook it's head and the moment was gone.

















This is the 'after the moment had gone' look !

















I've included this final photo for those of my American readers who will know all about the 'Aflac' duck. I need say no more but it's obviously retired, got a new look and moved to Leeds !!!

















By now it was 4pm and getting cold and so I headed back to the car and home.

Mr. Warden hadn't exactly RUINED my afternoon out but he did make me think about a few things and the changes I may have to make when taking photographs in future. As his very first question to me had been "Are you in the media?", maybe I should invest in a long black coat and a black hat with a PRESS ticket stuck into the brim.

But even if that would ensure I could take photos of parked ice cream vans without being suspected of being a potential paedophile, it still wouldn't get me into The Bull.

We do live in very sad times.

Is It Always Greener ?

Today I went down the M1 to visit with an old friend who last year moved from Wetherby to Ruddington, near Nottingham. It was my first chance to see her new place as she moved while I was away in America. While waiting at the traffic lights where the Outer Ring Road meets Park Lane, I saw there was an ambulance at the front of the line on the other side. I noticed that the driver of the car immediately behind the ambulance had his window open and was flicking away his cigarette ash. Ironically at the same time, he was coughing like his lungs were about to burst and it put a nice twist on the phrase 'ambulance chaser.'

But it got me thinking about things medical and as I had the best part of a 2 hour drive ahead of me with no cell phone to play with (new laws came into force yesterday), I had plenty of time to mull things over. I had been home from America for 4 weeks and wasn't missing their medical commercials one little bit. In case you've not read my ramblings about these commercials before, they're based on the fact that in the US, patients have much more control over what pills they pop and even what doctors and specialists they go to see. It's a sort of 'you pays your money so you're the boss' sort of deal.

Many of the people I know are on first name terms with their various 'ologists' and know exactly who to call on for all that ails them......real or imaginary.

As a result, the vast majority of the medical ads on tv over there either end with the phrase, "ask your doctor about xxxxxxx" where "xxxxxxx" can be anything from viagra to suppositories or "ask your 'ologist about having your heart bypassed, brain upgraded or spine replaced" cause you know it makes sense. You are constantly urged to go annoy these poor professionals who, it seems, went through years of medical school and then years of specialist training just to be able to sit waiting for members of the public to come in and demand a plethera of pills or a set of procedures that they saw on the ad break between The Simpsons and Deal Or No Deal. Maybe it's a small price to pay for the high prices they charge.

After one of my trips to America, I went to see my GP about something and as an aside I mentioned that as I'd turned 50, I should maybe have a prostate exam sometime.

It's not often one sees their GP rolling on the floor convulsed with laughter - and I have to say it's slightly unnerving when it happens. Once he'd composed himself and the crash cart was wheeled out of his office, he said "you've been to America again, haven't you ?"

It appears that the NHS doesn't have the finances to allow every man over 50 a prostate exam. The working theory is that most men who develop this cancer will do so when they are over 60 anyway and, hell, that's a good lifespan after all !!! Proactive....what's that ?

But back to the commercials and I think it's because I've not grown up with these medical ads that they annoy me so much. My US friends are able to zone them out but as we don't have them here in the UK, then as soon as I hear all the medical mumbo jumbo, my ears prick up and I can't look away.

So do I feel better now that I'm back here where we don't have such ads ? Well not really as we have our own version of blanket commercials which, during weekdays anyway, are on constantly and presumably aimed at the various sections of humanity who are not out earning an honest living between the hours of 8am and 5pm - for whatever reason.

And what are they about ? Loans and debts. Debts and loans.

You get one, you get the other soon after ! It's a sort of financial BOGOF really. All day long it's one or the other.

"Having problems making ends meet ? Worried about those mounting bills ? Just got a 95" Plasma HD (Ready) Digital Mp3 Player and can't make the payments ?"

"Don't worry. Help is just a phone call away. Ring Shady-Loans-For-You right now and we'll sort it all out. We'll help you sell two of your kids into slavery and you'll be out of debt by 2075".

These cheery words are enhanced with video of a young couple sharing the phone earpiece as if it's all going on live before our very eyes. This couple have been hired for their expressive facial skills and especially their ability to place a call, get through first time, make the loan deal and do a high five all within 60 seconds. I especially like the one where hubby is so laid back about ringing for a huge loan that he's wandering around on the phone like a big kid playing with a ball and then covers the mouthpiece to confirm the loan amount with his wife as if it's some sort of afterthought.

I think if I was wanting a loan for 20 grand I'd have thoroughly discussed it and had that figure etched in my mind long before picking up the phone ! "Lets see, Mr Loan Man, I'll have £15k, no £18k.....no wait a minute, oh sod it, lets make it £20k".

Yes I know it's all supposed to be symbolic of how easy it is to get a loan but I'd really much rather have a nice bit of text slowly scrolling up the screen giving me all the info and spare me the idiotic video .

So those are the loan ads. To compliment them we have the debt ads where CONSOLIDATION is the order of the day. Bring all your debts together into.............one big debt !
Bloody fantastic idea. Brilliant. No preaching here about trying to buy things only if you have the money for it. No pontificating about financial responsibility. Hell no. You want it now, get it now. Life is too short and you NEED that car/holiday/kitchen upgrade/surround sound system/face lift/brain transplant. And what happens when the bills come in ? Lump them all together and given enough years, your grandkids will still be paying for those 'necessities' long after you've lost the ability to hold your own spoon or eat without dribbling.

The US has seriously annoying medical commercials. The UK has seriously annoying loan and debt commercials. Where is the grass greener ?

In this case, sadly neither side has a claim.

Trains & Boats & Planes - Part 1

As well as being a great song best covered by Dionne Warwick way back in nineteen flippity jippety, these are also my favourite modes of transport. Well 2 are anyway.

I have to admit to not having travelled by train in several years and if I preclude the little return trips on the Transpennine Express from Leeds to Manchester airport when I fly to America, then we're talking several decades. As most of those trips were on business and I was usually worried and stressed about the meeting or course at the other end, then I still tend to view train travel with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

I certainly can't imagine taking a train nowadays - unless one of those little steam ones just to be able to say I've been on one. I've never been a fan of trains as such, but I might change my mind if the UK had a well managed, reliable and relatively cheap system. From what I've read over the years, we don't.

I do fancy one of those more exotic train trips though. Say, through the Canadian Rockies or across Siberia (in summer of course) or from Paris to Venice on the Orient Express. Bet you get your feet wet at Venice station ! Or on the Polar Express (if it's good enough for Tom Hanks) or from Seattle to Carlisle. No scrap that last one.

I'd love to have been on one of those old Western trains with the cow pusher contraption on the front of the engine like we see on the movies. I live for the chance to hear someone shout "Alllll Aboard" and then being able to casually grab the carriage handle and swing up onto the slowly moving train. Given my lack of grace in all things physical, I'd probably smash my face on the closed carriage door and fall in an embarassed heap onto the station platform.

Then we have planes. I don't mind plane travel itself but the palaver involved in just getting on and off one is getting to be a right pain in the proverbials these days. We have Osama and his merry band to thank for some of the delays we now face in getting to our plush, wide, comfortable, plane seats (dream on) but mostly they were in place to some extent long before he went into the demolition business.

I don't mind having to check in 2 hours early for my flight. I don't mind having to practically strip naked and still be hand searched before being allowed into the departure lounge. I don't mind having to show my passport and boarding card a dozen times to everyone from the floor cleaner to the man out on the tarmac who directs the planes with his little lollypop sticks. If this is the price we now pay to sit in relative safety at 38,000ft, then I'm all for it.

What I do mind is airlines setting luggage limits and then letting people ignore them. I'm one of those people, rare these days, who read the rules and regulations when travelling and then stick to them. So if I'm allowed 2 cases both under 50lbs and one carry on case of certain dimensions, then that's what I bring. Believe me, packing for a 6 month trip to America and getting everything into 2 cases and a carry on is quite a feat in itself.

So I stand in line at the check-in desk with mounting disbelief and then anger when I see people all around me with enough luggage to stock a small department store. The checked cases are so huge and heavy that they'd give an Olympic weightlifter a hernia and I'm not one for usually feeling sorry for airport baggage handlers who have ruined many a case of mine. As for their carry ons, well the one item limit seems to be taken to mean anything you can attach in any way to your person if that includes being pushed, pulled, in your hands or on your back. I've seen less items clutched by a Crackerjack contestant. CRACKERJACK !!!

Sorry...........had a mental flashback there and images of Peter Glaze floated before my eyes.

So why do I care ? Well for one thing, it's annoying to see people get away with this when I've stuck to the rules. I just know if one of my cases weighed 50.5lbs, I'd be charged for it. But it also affects me when I finally get onboard and try to get my legal carry on case or bag up into the overhead compartment by my seat. That space has been taken up by my fellow passengers and now contains the entire contents of their living rooms. Muggins here has to find another compartment usually underneath the rear gunners seat or in the pilot's snack locker.

This is because I'm always one of the last people to board a plane. Why ? Well again it's because I follow the rules and get up to board only when my seat row is called. Everyone else ? Well they've all shot off to the gate as soon as the announcer says........"we're now boarding first class, business class, our elite traveller passengers (thank you very much for using Air Cheapo once again, fawn fawn), those with small children, any wheelchair passengers and anyone who is grossly obese and needs help to be shoved through the plane doors and squished into our crappy narrow seats guaranteed to give you DVT".

I look up from my Readers Digest and find myself alone in the lounge area and behind me 324 people are standing in line to board the plane. D'oh. Why can't they shout "Allllll Aboard" and let us all scramble to get on first ? The British are used to that ????

Next time, I'm taking a stack of cases, 3 carry on items and a handbag. When they announce that boarding is starting, I'm grabbing the nearest kid, getting into a wheelchair and zooming down that ramp to get inside before the crew. Sorted.

Anyway, for the last 3 years I've forsaken Manchester airport as getting there and back, allied to the rest of the trip, was getting to be both expensive and exhausting.

I'd have to get up very early as most flights to the US take off early and get a taxi to Leeds station. Then I'd get the train to Manchester airport, often having to change trains at Manchester station. Although it was great that the train eventually stopped right at the airport terminal, it wasn't the terminal I needed and so I'd have a long walk to my check-in desk and so onto my departure gate.

If I was using a US carrier, I'd fly to somewhere like Chicago or Washington and after getting grilled at US customs and immigration, I'd be on another flight to Detroit. From there my friends would pick me up and after a 3 hour drive, we'd be at their house in northern Michigan.

Exhausted.

I never liked my friends making this 6 hour round trip at the start and end of my time with them and so sometimes I'd add another leg to the trip by taking a short flight from Detroit to an airport only 2 hrs from their house. Hey four hours are four hours.

Speaking of four, it was 4 years ago that things changed when in an attempt to get over there by the cheapest means possible, I flew with Air Lingus, the Irish national airline. No jokes please.

I'll summarise the legs........

Taxi to Leeds station.
Train to Manchester airport, changing at Manchester station.
Flight from Manchester to Dublin.
Flight from Dublin to Chicago's O'Hare airport.
Shuttle bus across Chicago to Midway airport.
Flight from Midway to Flint (Michigan).
Car trip 2 hours to Houghton Lake.

To say I was knackered would be putting it mildly and remember that to get from one leg of the trip to the next one involved me lugging my suitcases and carry on backpack with me. No wonder that with a few weeks to go before the holiday was over, I'd be dreading the return trip.

So I decided never again and looked for the quickest route rather than the cheapest and ever since, I've flown with Northwest Airlines and their Dutch partner, KLM. This involves a 15 minute drive to Leeds airport, a flight to Amsterdam and a flight to Detroit where my friends still pick me up as they say they like to do so. I know it's still a 4 leg trip but I wave goodbye to my checked luggage at Leeds airport and (most times) pick it up again on the baggage carousel at Detroit airport. Much less stressful and not so physically demanding.

In July 2005 I had my 2nd heart attack and when I was given permission to fly again 3 months later, I was very glad to have this 4 leg trip in place. Another journey on that Transpennine train would've finished me off !!

When I returned from America 3 weeks ago, it was my 44th transatlantic flight and you'd think I'd have clocked up enough airmiles to be flying for free now. Sadly I've chopped and changed my carriers so often that I've still not got enough airmiles with any of them to get one free flight, never mind several. Oh I have enough for an internal US flight but I obviously want a transatlantic one. I'm not even going to 'waste' any precious miles on an upgrade to first class as I got a free upgrade once and didn't think much of it anyway. Ironically it was when I flew with Air Lingus and the comfy seat did help a bit.

Nope, I don't mind being in with the rest of the cattle in economy. As long as I've 24 movies to choose from and the plane stays up above the clouds where it's supposed to stay for the 8 hrs or so, then I'm mostly a happy traveller. I still get palpatations with every unexpected pitch and yaw and I'll glance to see if the air stewards are on their knees praying. If they look calm and serene and are still flogging the duty free booze and ciggies, then I settle down again and let my medication take the strain.

So that's trains and planes. Hard to beat. Well actually boats do - but they'll have to wait for another post.

It's Just Not Cricket

Cricket is probably the world's most bewildering game - and I love it.

Well that's to say I love watching it on tv as I've never been to a game and have no wish to ever do so. I watch a lot of sports with that attitude.

I'll watch a few legs of darts and then give up.......it's not the game that puts me off but the voice and general annoying personality of commentator Sid Waddell. He needs to be taken to a darkened room and quietly told that he's the reason that remote controls have a mute button.

And snooker. I used to like it in the days of Ray Reardon, Willie Thorne and even Alex Higgins when there was some excitement in the game and lots of personalities. I was one of the 18.5 million who stayed up that Bank Holiday night back in 1985 to watch Dennis Taylor beat Steve Davis in the best final in snooker history. Holy moley...........that's over 21 years ago !!! I've depressed myself now.

And Rugby Union. I can give the odd international game the few odd minutes of my attention but that's about it.

There are plenty of other sports I'll watch for a while on tv and then switch channels when they lose my interest. Then there are the sports that I'll never even consider as sports and so not watch at all.......like boxing, wrestling, fishing, synchronised swimming and anything on a skateboard, surfboard or snowboard. Grown men flying around on bits of wood. Wise up.

Anyway back to cricket and I'm constantly being asked to explain it to American friends. I can't. It's not that I don't want to.......it's just that I can't. You see, I don't totally understand it myself.

Well I know the rules and I can follow what's happening and all that important stuff but I just can't get my head around most of the fielding positions. Once you take the bowler and wicket keeper out of the equation (as we all know where they are on the pitch after all), then I start to lose the plot. I'm ok with the slip positions (and I know I'm losing more of you now) but even then there can be anything from 1 to 5 or more of them at times.

Now I know that when you have a large playing field with players mostly standing still all over it, then you need to be able to say that so-and-so needs to stand at such-and-such a position. Cricket isn't alone in this of course but it IS alone in having such ridiculous names for these positions. There are almost 30 of them and the trick is for the captain to place his team mates in a position where experience tells him the batsman is likely to send the ball.

And so I give you.........Silly Mid Off (and it's country cousin Silly Mid On), Long Off, Long On, Third Man, Cover, Extra Cover, Gully (I always feel sorry for the guy in that position as he must only see grass and ankles for most of the game), Short Mid Wicket and a whole plethera of 'leg' positions like Fine Leg, Deep Fine Leg, Short Leg, Square Leg, Forward Short Leg, Deep Square Leg, Leg Slip, Leg Gully and Fine Long Legs Deep Wide Open. Ok I made that last one up !

As if it hasn't enough going against it, a game of cricket lasts 5 days. Yes 5 days. There are several variants of the classic game which last a lot less and the most recent one (called 20/20) can be over in a couple of hours and is therefore very popular and exciting for the modern generation who have the attention span of a gnat.

As someone who needs to replace his tv remote control batteries every few weeks, I'm a bit surprised with myself that I love the 5 day game. Modern tv technology means that we see extreme close ups of everything. Nothing escapes the eagle eye of the instant replay system and when it does, computer software like 'hawkeye' shows us what WOULD have happened if someone hadn't been in the way.

As I see it, there are few better ways to spend a cold, wet winter's day in the UK than to sit in the cozy warmth of my living room with drink in hand, watching a cricket game from Australia or anywhere in the Caribbean. The only down side to having a sporting event lasting 5 days is that you get the same commercials over and over again - and cricket is an advertisers dream as it gives many hundreds of opportunities for commercial breaks. I mean drinks breaks for the players are even built into the game !

And so at long last I come to the point of this post. A really really annoying commercial. THEY tell us that there are no bad commercials. If we talk about them for ANY reason, then the commercial has worked. I'd go along with that IF when talking about it, one could remember the name of the product ! And that's the case in point.

During the recent cricket one day series between England, Australia and New Zealand, there has been a specific car commercial shown during just about every one of the breaks and that's a LOT of showings. It is SO annoying and even if I'm in the kitchen and can't see the screen, I still hear the tinkling piano music and know that the damn ad is on again. So what is so annoying ?

Well the awful tinkling piano is bad enough and sounds like the music was recorded in an aircraft hanger at Luton Airport. But it's how they are trying to show us how smooth the ride is with this wonderful vehicle that gets my grrrrrrrr going. A little girl is sitting in the back seat of this moving car with her colouring book open and is carefully painting between the lines of some flowers or something..........and doing it perfectly. Ok now colour me sceptical but I don't believe she could do this even if the book was super glued to a table set in concrete.

I think I take these things too seriously. Maybe it was supposed to be giving a visual impression of stability and not meant to be taken literally. Probably. I mean I was very critical of the recent King Kong movie by pointing out numerous silly impossible action points......and as someone then said to me "you do know the movie is about a 60ft ape, don't you" ???

Ok fair enough but in this case the annoyance factor, for me anyway, means I actually switch channels or mute the sound or, if the remote is not to hand, la-la-la-la to drown the voice over.
And the car model ? I've really no idea.

So tv producers and planners be warned. I'm not one of the gnat generation. Hey, I can sit through 5 days of a sporting event. No problem. But I know my way around my remote and so don't waste my valuable retirement time with annoying commercials, annoying non sport sports and annoying Sid Waddell.

It's just not cricket.

Valentine Who ?

So who was this Valentine fella then ? Some great lover from a bygone age ? Some rascally rapscallion who set petticoats a-twiching back when petticoats rarely allowed a flash of bare ankle ?

Nope. His true full name was Hallmark Valentine-Day and he wasn't born of woman at all. (Gasps all round) No one can be sure just when this 'birth' took place, as it was never documented, but historians are agreed it was sometime in the middle of the 18th century, near the end of what we now call the 'not very romantic at all' period.

The slightly Rambling Chipping Norton Dictionary (as opposed to the Concise Oxford one) states that on a sunny Wednesday afternoon in May 1747, Charles Bendicoot Valentine came home from a hard day toiling in the fields, unhitched the plough from his pair of shire horses and moaned yet again to his long suffering wife that it was time for some sodding genius to invent the tractor as his back was giving him gyp.

Mrs Valentine had had a bad day herself as the steam powered mangle had broken down again and a travelling bard had kept her so distracted with his nimble fingered lute playing that she'd burned the gruel.

They ate supper in silence and headed off to bed at 7pm as it was dark and there were only reruns on that night. "There must be more to life than this" said Charles to no one in particular.
"I'd say you've got it pretty cushy" said no one in particular back at him. "Here, who you talking to" said Mrs Valentine, sneeking a peek under the duvet. "Oh just talking to no one in particular" came the reply. "Well", sniffed his wife, "stop that nonsense and talk to me. I slave away all day in this hovel and what thanks do I get ? None. You take me for granted, you do. I deserve a little thank you.......something special.......something romantic. You never do anything romantic."

Charles thought about this all night and the next day, before he went into the fields, he went to see his very good friend, Arbuthnot Day, who lived on the next farm. "My wife doesn't understand me" he moaned to his pal. "Told you she'd be trouble" came the reply. "You should never have married her." Charles told Arbuthnot all about the conversation in bed the previous night and the pair of them decided that his wife would soon find out just how romantic Charles could really be.

So later that day, as Daphne Valentine was thrashing the weekly washing against a large stone, a messenger arrived with a parchment-o-gram for her. Sitting at the kitchen table, she broke the seal, unrolled the paper and with mounting horror, read the message within.

I've had enough. Stop. I can't take life with you anymore. Stop. You wanted me to be more romantic and so I have. Stop. I'm leaving you and have run off with my lover, Arbuthnot, and we're going to live together and as for sex, well no one is going to tell us we have to. Stop. Sorry, that period shouldn't have been there as I meant that no one can tell us we have to stop. Stop. That stop was in the right place. Stop.

The farming lovers were the talk of the county for many months. In February 1748, news swept through the rural community that a baby boy had been born to them and this caused some consternation and much debate at the local inn. "A boy you say. They conceived a boy"? said Rev Harold Wishbone, the vicar of the parish. "That's a trifle unnatural, isn't it "? asked Bert Nosebleed, idiot of the village. "Maybe so" said Agnes Worrywart "but I think it's very romantic and someone should send them a box of dark Belgian chocolates and a dozen red roses". "What's a Belgian" asked Bert before he was thrown out of the inn and barred for life.

Sitting alone in the corner was one Daphne Gaybasher (nee Valentine) who was listening attentively to every word. A sly smile broke up her normally fixed and miserable face.

Later that day, the 14th, chocs and flowers arrived at the lovers farmhouse as they sat around the crackling fireplace taking turns holding their son. "Look little Hallmark" said Charles to the infant, "someone has sent us chocs and flowers" "Who sent them" asked Arbuthnot. "No idea. The parchment is unsigned and just says Roses Are Red, Voilets Are Blue, Hallmark's a B* And So Are You Two". "That's all "? asked Arbuthnot, not the sharpest knife in the drawer. "I don't get it. It's a puzzle for sure."

Every year, on the same date, the chocs, the flowers and the same message arrived at the farm and they never did know who had sent them. As the decades passed, Daphne's bitter words got lost in the retelling and the idea of flowers, chocs and lovers passed into folklore. No one ever knew what became of the farmers or their mystery son, Hallmark Valentine-Day, but early in the 20th century, a man by the same name bought out several small greeting card companies and started on a run of success and profitabily rarely seen in those days. Then came the depression and no one had time for greeting cards. In an effort to rebuild his empire, he recalled the story of his ancestors and decided to invent a day for lovers. Everyone could identify with that. The idea spread and after a few years it had taken on a life of it's own and the world congratulated him for thinking it up.

"God bless Hallmark Valentine-Day" they said as they tried to resurrect doomed marriages and heal crumbling engagements. "God bless Valentine-Day indeed" said the inhabitants of Belgium who saw their GNP increase fourfold on that one day of the year.

So there it is. The real story behind the 14th of February. Romance be damned; it's all a commercial plot to increase the profitability of card companies, florists and.......Belgium.

We have a saying in Yorkshire "There's Nowt So Queer As Folk"

A smirking Hallmark would agree.

Sorry - We're Closed

Well the forecast snow came overnight and as usual the UK has come to a virtual standstill.

You see we Brits don't 'do' snow very well......or hail, or sleet, or wind, or rain, or heavy leaves. Basically if it's not a sunny day, we fall to bits.

Did we have any warnings about this latest brutal and savage fall of heavenly whiteness ? Of course we did.

Did we do anything about it ? Of course we didn't.

What COULD we do ? Nothing much really. We're not going to go out and buy specialised vehicles just for a few days of snow per year. We're not going to stockpile mini mountains of grit and sand for the couple of days when you can't actually see the road surface.

Nope, for most of us, being well prepared means we just are able to talk about the snow the day before it comes. Yesterday in supermarket lines and hairdressers and hospital operating rooms up and down the country, people were talking about THE SNOW coming. It was like we were getting invaded by Martians or Mexicans or some other illegal aliens.

"Oh we're getting in 100 tins of soup and spam as there is snow forecast for tomorrow" they'd tell each other. "Yes and I'm keeping little Johnny off school tomorrow as the bus steps will have snow on them" another wailed.

"But my Billy HAS to go to school tomorrow", one said. "He'll be in trouble with the authorities if he doesn't" she added. "Why is that; has he been missing a lot of school or something" "No, he's the principal" Ok old joke I know.

I'm looking out my living room window at the light dusting of snow that was forecast for us. It's like God sprinkled some icing sugar on parts of my driveway and front wall. The pavements and roads are quite clear - not thanks to the wonderful council gritting lorries but because not enough snow has fallen to even leave a dusting on them.

I realise parts of the UK got more snow than I'm describing and I'm sure people and animals are being badly inconvenienced in remote and high lying places. The BBC site has been reporting on it all day as have all the tv news stations. I'm not trying to belittle what these people are having to put up with......but come on.....4 ins !!! This shouldn't be enough snow to close schools and have motorists warned to only make journeys 'if they really have to be made'.

Of course it's a great excuse not to go in to work. "Sorry, boss, but there is a build up of snow on my hub caps and my TomTom says I'm currently in a parking lot in Anchorage. Can't make it in, I'm afraid"

But we wouldn't be British if we didn't act like this every winter. Questions will be raised in Parliament. The Snow Minister will be asked to stand down. Promises of 'doing much better next time' will be made by anyone with a microphone shoved in their faces.

Through all this adversity, our Dunkirk spirit WILL shine through like a beacon in a blizzard. Life WILL go on. Babies WILL be born. Leeds United WILL continue to lose at home.

In the meantime, I'm off out to get a big plastic shovel. There might be another dusting tomorrow !

Apologies For The Size

I should've known something was different with that previous post when I uploaded the first photo and it took longer than usual to finish. I realised right away that I'd forgotten to resize it but was pleased that I didn't get the usual error message to remind me. I just thought the new improved blogger software would reduce the photos, and the others, so that they'd be like they've always been on here.

Having published the post and gone back to check how it looked, I decided to click on a photo to make sure all was ok - and was horrified to see it take up my whole screen ! Yikes.

I'll try and remember to resize them in future so please, take this as a 'warning' that if you do click on a photo in the post below, it'll be BIG.

No tittering in the back there.

Another Walk In The Countryside

I've been very lazy over the last few weeks and the scales have been warning me that my weight is heading in the wrong direction.

Yes I know; the solution is very obvious. Get new scales !

If only life was so fair. But it's not and so for my weight and overall health's sake, I started to walk again today. I'd mostly cycled in Florida as walking didn't get me very far, literally, and I was fed up seeing the same rows of neat homes within Buttonwood Bay all the time. On the bike I could at least get out of the park and explore a bit more.

But Florida is a flat state. The flatest in fact. I yearned for countryside and.........hills.

So it was as much to see my local rolling hills as much as for the exercise that I set off for a walk this afternoon. Within a few minutes I was out in farm country - although even here, one is
often reminded that modern man and his motorised vehicle is not far away.

But it was as if I'd got the ultimate remote control as even though I could SEE the traffic, I couldn't hear it at all. It was wonderful.

Taking care not to step in anything nasty, I went deeper into the countryside and totally lost all thoughts of modern life entirely.

I walked around the edges of a few fields, probably trespassing at the same time, through a small forest and found myself in a new place for me.......Lost.

I knew roughly where I was but still impressed myself by looking at the sun and heading south. Sure enough after 20 minutes I came upon the path I'd been on and was soon heading back to my housing estate. Civilization beckoned.

The gravel path became a narrow tarmac road and crossed over the local golf course.

The sign you see here is mostly for car drivers as you'd like to think a walker would hear something before a golf ball hit him on the head.

When I'm not in a rush or trying to keep my heart rate at a set level, I often poke around the trees on both sides for any errant golf balls abandoned by their owners. I find a suprising number actually so either the holes closest to this path are very difficult or, more likely, the local golfers aren't going to put pressure Tiger Woods any time soon.

Speaking of local golfers, a foursome had just putted out on the hole to one side of the road and so had to cross over to tee off on the next one.

It was a chance for me to test out the sports setting on the camera so I extended my monopod (don't even go there) and setup ready for action.

I don't think having a camera wielding spectator pleased the group very much, but if they had any comments, they politely kept them till I was out of range.

I soon realised I needed to consult the camera instruction booklet again as although the shutter blasted off at an impressive rate of 3 frames per second, none of the images captured were worth keeping as they were out of focus. I've still a lot to learn.

By the time the last golfer was ready to drive off, I'd had to return to the normal 'auto' setting just to get any sort of photo at all. The result is the shot above.

After they had left the tee, I turned around for a look at the hole they'd just played and noticed that, due to the low temps all day, the morning frost had never had a chance to burn off.

I opened the little gate and went through to get closer to the green. There was a lone golfer coming up the fairway so I had to take a quick photo and get off the course.

Back on the road I waited for him to get to the green and once he had chipped up a few feet from the hole, he picked up his ball without putting out as I assume the frost would've made putting awkward.

He crossed over the road and prepared to drive off on the next tee. I was tempted to try the sports setting again and set up as if to take some photos. But I decided not to bother and just leaned on the camera atop the monopod......and watched. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I'll say that my close attention put him off as he totally mishit the ball and it shot off about 20 yds to his left and barely left the ground. Oops.

Grinning, I walked on.

As I approached the main road leading back into my housing estate, I came upon this lovely little grouping of snowdrops which, as we all know, despite their name, normally flower in very early Spring.

Hopefully they withstand the next few days as we're due to get a dusting of snow. I say dusting, as we rarely get much more than what would be called a dusting in US states like Michigan and North Dakota - but it still manages to bring the UK to it's collective knees and sends sales of huge red plastic shovels through the roof.

By now any heat that the late afternoon sun was producing had long since gone and I could see my breath.
I'd gone out well prepared, however, and under my jacket I was wearing a fleece over my t-shirt. I was toasty warm and even my gloveless, camera carrying hands were comfortably warm. It was easily the longest walk I'd had since leaving Michigan in late October for the warmth of Florida and I enjoyed it enormously.

If the forecast snow does arrive tomorrow, I'll strap on a pair of old tennis rackets, saddle up the reindeer and head out into it. If no post appears, you'll know the dust got me !

Monday Woes

It's not been a normal Monday morning for yours truely. Oh no.

I'd been up till 4am watching the Super Bowl (go Colts) and then had to be up in time to get to the dentist at 10:30am. Yes a morning appointment ! What possessed me to make a morning appointment ??? It probably seemed like a good idea back in July - "this will get me up early on a beautiful crisp winter's morning" I may have told myself.

Note to self : NEVER make a winter appointment in high summer as the heat obviously affects the thinking process.

As it happens, once the shock of getting up 5 hours after going to bed had worn off, it WAS a wonderful crisp winter's morning - but I just wanted to be back in bed !

The visit was painless enough but I still miss my old dentist who was kind and gentle with my oral imperfections. I'd been with him for about 17 years when he announced last year that he was retiring in stages (no, not bodily stages you silly reader) and was only going to be working a couple of days a week. I was duly passed on to another dentist and lets just say sadism is alive and well and working in north Leeds.

I found myself lying (through my teeth as my mouth was full of implements) when asked if I'd been using those little pokey things that dentists want you to shove between your teeth down at gum level. I hate them as they make my gums bleed and I don't really think I want gaps down there anyway. Let those holes fill up with that nice plaque stuff I say. Feels nicer when the tongue slides over them.

So I said I used them a few times a week and the dentist said....."well they're working as there is much less plaque this time. Well done" !! I gave a toothy grin and said "thuarranque" or something like that. Why DO they ask you questions when you have a ton of metal bits and two hands inside your mouth ???

Anyway it was all over in 20 minutes and I was sent on my way with praise ringing in my ears and my teeth sparkling in a glass.

The sunshine and clear blue sky tempted me to stay out and I decided to go shopping to Sainsburys even though I only wanted a few items and none of them were basics that were needed today. I hoped that the store would be somehow different than last time and that my shopping experience would be better all round as I wasn't jet lagged anymore AND I knew what to expect this time.

Sadly it was not to be. Ok a few things were better. There were less customers as last time I'd gone on a Saturday evening. There were a few less staff out filling shelves and therefore less of them getting in the way with their trolleys blocking the aisles. Come to think of it, those were the only two things better.

I started with the new stationery section as I needed a 2007 diary and as it's February, my choices are limited. I get the same brand every year but that means a trip into Leeds and that's too much hassle right now. They didn't have any. Well they had those personal organisers that require you to have a briefcase to carry them around in and I'm afraid Filofax and yuppies ruined the idea of them for me years ago.

But I thought.....ok, it's cheap enough and I DO need a diary so what the heck. I plopped one in my trolley and sped off. I was in the fresh fruit aisle trying to decide if a 21p golden delicious was really that price because they'd put a gold treat inside it somewhere when I had second thoughts about the organiser. What about next year ? The whole point of these things is they take refils so you only have that initial expense....initially ! But I'd seen no refills.

I went to customer services where the two girls were telling each other what they'd done at the weekend and I became a helpless evesdropper as they had their backs to me and were presumably 'on a break' or something. I coughed and got their attention and I asked about refills. One went off to ask a supervisor and came back to inform me that I could get them from Boots......or WH Smiths........in town !! Great. I said the point of getting a diary/organiser here was to avoid going into town. The girl smiled absently and said "well you can get the bus into town just outside here and it'll be free for you" !!! WHAT ???!!!!!

I'll be wearing my baseball cap the next time I shop at Sainsburys. Young whippersnappers.

In a huff, I shuffled off with my trolley with newly leaden legs (mine that is, the trolley had leaden wheels though) and half way down one aisle and heading towards the deli counter it hit me. Smelly Aisle Syndrome !! Now I'd been warned about this in a post from my fellow blogger (ess) Daphne, but I'd somehow missed it on my previous trip. Everything she'd said was true. I think Grissom (CSI) or that cutie from Bones needs to investigate as something is well out of whack there. It's awful and follows you to the next aisle like some sort of nasty clinging atmospheric best buddy. Someone HAS to be missing a loved one or a pet or something that used to be a living, breathing creature. Actually it must be twins as the smell comes back further down in aisle 12 too. Could be another part of the same body I suppose. I'll ask my Mafia friend if they did any 'work' in the area late last year.

I was still reeling from the smell when I was accosted by a girl who sprang out of nowhere (well from her kiosk at the end of aisle 11 actually) and said something so fast I didn't catch the start of it. She had her hand to her ear in classic phone mime with her pinkie at her mouth and her thumb to her ear and asked me which land line phone company I was with ? I don't know about you, but that question is pretty straightforward and unambiguous and I didn't feel that I needed a mime of a telephone to add anything to it. Maybe it was this that caused me to lie again. Maybe it was that I don't like being sprung at - even by a pretty girl - when shopping. Maybe it was that I was still getting over the effects of the decomposition special offers on aisles 6 and 12 (BOGOFF never was so apt).

Whatever the reason, I heard myself lie and tell her I didn't have a land line and just used a mobile. She moved on to pounce on some other innocent.

Two brazen lies in one morning. There will be hell to pay....and probably visit.

I got my few purchases and headed for the checkouts. The lady there had a badge with a large 21 on it and some text which I took to be some sort of birthday blurb. It seemed a free offer to peer more closely at her chest area......so I did. She made eye contact and stuck out her chest even more and she seemed to know what I'd been thinking. God I hope not ! "Oh no I'm not 21" she giggled. By then I'd read the text and it just said she wasn't allowed to sell ciggies to anyone under the age of 21. As she was middle aged, I'm not sure why she thought I'd mistaken the badge for anything else but after my sobering incident at customer services, I kept my ageist thoughts to myself.

I rushed home for a strong mug of tea and a chocolate digestive.

Shopping might be good exercise and good for your health........but it can be brutal on your ego and absolute murder on your nostrils.

Looking Back

I've been home almost a week now but as usual, my mind often drifts back to Florida where I now have my 2nd home......literally.

The news here goes on about the mild weather but of course it's still a big change for me. For all it's talking points, thankfully we rarely get extremes of weather in the UK and I've been reminded of that again today as I see reports on tv and on the internet about a severe storm which swept across central Florida from midnight last night. Tornados hit the Lady Lake area (50 miles north west of Orlando) and 14 people are reported killed and there has been a lot of devastation to homes in the area.

Thankfully Buttonwood Bay has been spared the worst of it and currently it's only raining there right now but it reminds me that I need to keep an eye open for the weather there as well as here. Not only are my friends still there for another 2 months, but I've property to think about !

Looking back on my 6 months in the US last year, they were certainly much different to any of the previous ones. We didn't travel that much as the major trip was down to Florida in late October. If I fly directly to Florida next time for the full 6 months, then I've no idea when I'll be seeing Houghton Lake again so it was good to spend those first 3 months of my trip there last year.

But Florida will now be the state for me and it's ironic that we'll now be based in a state where we still have to drive several hours just to get into the body of the country. It's not even a picturesque drive as being the flatest state in the union, stunning Florida scenery is hard to find (not sure it even exists) and certainly none of it is seen from the main interstates.

So what did I like about my time there ?

Well the obvious first thing has to be the weather. It's awesome and makes it just about acceptable to put up with the worry of tornados and hurricanes and whatever other extremes of weather that can hit the region from time to time. Yes it's easy for me to have this opinion as I've never experienced extreme weather and I may feel differently if I do. I'm not going to worry about the house either as not only is it something I've no control over, but we have insurance cover.

Who am I kidding - of course I'll worry. It's in my nature.

I also loved Florida senior discounts. I'd been using this 'scheme' for a while in the US to get into movie theatres and eat out on the cheap but until we went to Florida, I'd had to ask for it and then stress out for the few seconds while the ticket guy or the waitress looked me over and thought about challenging my claim to seniority. No such problems in Florida and I'd be given the discounts without asking in most cases. Now this might upset some other 54 year olds who wouldn't like to think they look old enough to qualify for a discount but I'm not that vain and I'm too much of a skinflint to care less. Bring it on.

A bonus of getting the senior discount in restaurants is that not only is the cost of the meal a lot less, but so is the portion. I'm trying to eat sensibly and healthily when in America and it's very hard with the cheapness of eating out (even without the discounts) allied to the huge portions on offer. My weak willpower gets a good helping hand when I order off the senior menu as normally this means a more sensible, yet still very filling, plateful. However I did notice that one of the myths of getting older was being debunked on many occasions and that was that oldies eat less. Don't you believe it. I saw many a 16oz steak (plus all the fixings, as they say) vanish down many a wrinklies throat - even if a son or grandson had to cut it into bite sized pieces first !

Man, some of them could eat like horses and there was no ordering off the senior menu for them. I think that when you get to 80+ you pretty much don't care about your cholesterol levels or the amount of trans fat in your food. If you still have enough intestinal length to feed it along, enough stomach acid to process it and bowel movements regular enough to poop it out, then at that age you should just enjoy your food and damn the consequences.

I can't wait !!

But back to why I like my part of central Florida; the town of Sebring is just about big enough for me - a town big enough to have most of the stores I like and need and yet not big enough where you need to think about traffic at peak times. It's about the same 24/7 really which suits me just fine. Maybe it's no tourist trap and yes, maybe it's typical of most nondescript US towns with one main route through it and little to cause you to stop for more than a passing meal. But I liked it....a lot. And not just for the senior discounts !!

And finally to Buttonwood Bay. As I've said before, Florida is THE retirement state and retirement communities are all over the place. They come with various names and descriptions and ours states it is an 'RV Resort & Manufactured Housing Community' and the next line on the welcome sign says it all............'An Active 55+ Community'. It's certainly blown away all my preconceptions of what such a park would be like. The list of activities is impressive and there aren't enough hours in the day to do most of them. The amenities are also first rate and if all you want is to lounge by one of the pools, then that's all you need to do.

However that could mean missing out on Buttonwood Bay's biggest selling point - the friendliness of it's residents. They are there in all shapes and sizes, all states of physical abilities and all ages from under 55 like myself to over 100 in a few cases. And are they active ? I'll say !!

They do Tai Chi, water aerobics, every kind of dancing, clogging, golf, bowling, softball, crafts, tennis, pool, horseshoes, bocce ball, shuffleboard, cards, table tennis, fishing and those are just off the top of my head. What I really like is that everyone is keen to pass on the knowledge and experiences gained over many years of life. Can't sew to save your life ? Try a craft class. Never played bocce ball before ? Pop along, join in and be shown the ropes. Want to get fit and exercise those joints ? Use the exercise room equipment or join in with the aerobics or tai chi sessions out near the lake. It's up to you. Do as much or as little as you want.

Then there are the regular events from the Christmas golf cart parade to the weekly dances, from resident produced plays to pot luck meals. I tell you, it's all go and knowing that you'll be enjoying sunshine and high temperatures during the outdoor activities helps enormously.

And it all helps with my health too. I need regular exercise and a UK winter is not conducive to going out for walks or bike rides. Both are a pleasure in BB all year round and of course there are the 2 heated pools to help when those become boring.

But I'm here in the UK for probably the next 9 months as if I'm going to spend 6 months at a time in Florida, I might as well make it October till the end of March. With a UK Spring and Summer to look forward to, I'm almost done with looking back now. Yep, I've got Florida out of my system. Really.

So what's on this weekend ? Footy of course and I can watch live games on tv now. Wooohooo.
Leeds will be losing again. The Rugby League season starts. Tiger will be hoping to keep his winning streak going amongst the sand dunes of Dubai. Oh and the Super Bowl is on this Sunday so I'll be glued to the telle for that.

Now where is it taking place ? Lemme think. Oh yea, Miami. That's in Florida you know.
Hmmmmm Florida.

Maybe I'll just look again at one or two of those photographs I took.................

Farewell Buttonwood Bay - Hello Leeds

I'm home ! And it's cold.......very cold.

First let me take you back to last Wednesday when things were a lot warmer and that evening was the 50's dance in Buttonwood Bay. Deb had done magic with a load of material from WalMart and somehow conjured up a skirt and attachments straight out of the 'Peggy Sue Got Married' movie and others of that genre. She'd even sewed a pink poodle complete with sequined lead onto the skirt. As we entered the hall, heads turned and smiles were everywhere. That might have been the drink though (as we were 40 minutes late as we thought it started at 7:30pm but it was 7:00pm) as it was a BYOB function and plenty was brought. It was like a SAGA trip to a brewery !

Anyway everyone danced and ate and chatted and generally had a fabby time to the music from a different generation and once again I was amazed by the energy and physical output from my fellow residents. Plus it was nice to leave without my ears buzzing for hours afterwards.

I'd spent most of the day packing up my belongings and thankfully was able to leave a few items behind to be stored in our 'soon-to-be' new home in the park for my return later this year. So on Thursday I didn't have much to do before getting in the rental car at noon and heading off to the motel in Tampa.

Bright and early the next morning, Friday, it was only a 20 minute drive to the airport and as I got there 2 hrs early, I was delighted to find they had free wi-fi internet available and so I was able to check and send a few emails and have quick chats with anyone who was up and online at that early hour. Other aiports take note.........FREE wi-fi please.

I just must mention the security at Tampa was first class and ultra modern. No old fashioned, but nevertheless sightly more sexually pleasing, manual searches here ! Oh no. I stepped into a glass sided booth and had air blown up, down and generally in all directions over my body which was like having a dry shower. I exited feeling refreshed, clean and with bits of me tingling from the experience. Never mind every airport having one, I think every home should have one too. I wanted to go round again !

You know the way traffic slows down as it passes an accident ? Rubber necking is one term for it. Well the security line had a similar slowdown as men would pause to watch any skirt wearing lady who happened to be in the booth at the time. All I can say is - imagine that infamous Marilyn Monroe footage with the air not only blasting from below and you'll get the picture.

Onboard my flight to Detroit, I had a row of seats to myself and watched in some comfort as the scene below me changed from one of green and warm to white and cold. Thankfully my delicate body wasn't exposed to it at this point in the trip and after the 3 hr flight, I settled in at Detroit airport to a wait of over 5 hours before my next flight out.

Here is a photo of one of the least glamorous jobs in the world.......de-icing a Jumbo jet. Well I had 5 hrs to pass so had to watch something.

I was glad to not have any more security checks to go through as, despite enjoying the novelty of warm air blasts, they are a necessary inconvenience at best these days and a pain in the ass if I have to open up my carry on luggage.

The transatlantic leg of the trip was as long and mind numbingly boring as ever and once again I yearned for the days of Concorde when my trips were over in a third of the time. Yea right. The closest I got to a Concorde was at some airport when one passed by the window of the plane I was on and made a noise usually only experienced by those who were up front at a Who concert in the 70's.

During the 8 hr flight I watched 3 movies in between the arrival of the drinks trolley, the main meal trolley, the duty free trolley, the drinks trolley again and the pre landing snack trolley. I picked "The Queen", which wasn't too bad but seemed more documentary than movie, "Flyboys" which was from the old school of formulaic war movies as it degenerated into soppy sentimentality as well as having an obvious ending. In a final effort to make the trip more pleasant, I picked "The Incredibles" which always makes me smile, even at 90,000 ft or whatever height we were at.

We landed on time at Amsterdam airport (by now it was Saturday morning) and next stop, albeit after another flight, was glorious sunny Leeds. Yes sunny. Not a cloud in the sky and sadly, not a degree of heat in the air. Eee by gum it were nippy. It was my first exposure to the air since leaving Tampa and it came as quite a shock to my system. Oh it wasn't as cold as in Detroit of course but it's all relative and this time I was out in it !!

A taxi ride later and I was home sweet home. Was glad to see it looked fine on first inspection and as expected, once inside I could see my breath so heat was the priority. I turned on the gas supply and lit the fire. The flames didn't seem as 'strong' as I'm used to but I'd no time to think about that and went to get the central heating boiler going. I couldn't. No amount of trying would get the pilot light to work and that meant no heat. I rang the gas company as I'm covered insurance wise and the best they could do was send someone the next day.....meaning today, Sunday.

I spent the evening wrapped in all the warm clothing I could get on me but it was still uncomfortably cold in here.......it crawled to 42F and in an effort to get warmer, I left to go shopping as I'd nothing other than tinned soup in the old larder. After giving the car battery a zap, it fired up and I slowly set off for Sainsburys, gingerly giving the brakes lots of touches on the way. The car had been on the driveway for exactly 6 months after all.

I'd been looking forward to seeing my new look store as it had had a refurbishment while I was away. Oh what a huge disappointment it was. No, it was much more than that, it was awful. The store I'd left back in August was quite nice and modern so I'd assumed the refurbishment would've only added to that.......as it should. The only way I can describe it now is that it reminds me of a city centre Netto (for my UK readers) or a Save-a-Lot (for my US ones). Sorry international readers, you're on your own !!

I know it was a Saturday evening and so it was busy and with lots of staff along the aisles stacking the shelves but still........it was just a mess. They'd added more non food lines as you'd expect these days with clothing and kitchenware and electronic goodies etc, but my impression was that there was even less choice in the staples of supermarket fare, food ! And the checkouts ! I'm sure they were taken from some store which went into receivership as they were just plain nasty and showed up the poor flooring where the old ones used to be.

But, hey, it was WARM. I basked in the heat and almost slapped on some sun cream. Sadly I had to get my frozen goodies to my frozen home and so had to leave. I'd had my bed's electric blanket turned on since I left and by the time I finally went up to get in, it was toasty warm. I'd been up for 38 hrs and slept like a log till the gas man came knocking at 9:30am. He found the gas jet was blocked, probably by a dead spider or it's cobweb, and in no time the boiler was going and the heat was on.

It's now a very tropical 70F in here and I'm thinking of getting out my flip-flops. Life is good.

I'm watching the Corrie omnibus now and thinking of dunking a ginger biscuit in a mug of tea in a while. I'm slowly morphing into my Brit self again.

It's good to be home. Gives me a warm feeling. Well, eventually that is.

Squirrels

It's coming to the end of my time here in Buttonwood Bay (I leave on Thursday) and I thought I ought to give 15 minutes of fame to the most common critter in the park......well apart from those tiny ones of a flying nature which have not bothered me as much as I feared they would.

In one of my first posts from here last year I mentioned that I had been taking sunset photos down by the lake late one afternoon and once the sun went down, the mozzies came out and found my tender Brit skin to their liking. After only a few minutes of painful snapping, I was left looking like a teenager with rampant acne and I vowed never to give them the opportunity to repeat the meal.

Using a combination of moving pretty much non stop (looking like Patrick Litchfield on E) and running off like a big jessie as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, I've managed to get lots of sunset photos and still remain almost bite free ever since that infamous afternoon.

No the critters I want to highlight here are the squirrels who populate most areas of the park but come out in numbers down by the lake - and mostly at sunset.

I can only assume they have become used to the residents who gather by the waters edge to celebrate the end of each day (or more likely that they've survived another day) by sitting in their golf carts and watching a light show that nature does so well.

It used to be that many residents would feed these squirrels and so they'd actually jump onto the carts and practically take the offerings out of hands.........probably nipping a few arthritic fingers in the process.

This practice was frowned upon and we were told to desist in no uncertain terms. They were becoming pests (the squirrels, not the residents) and it was only a matter of time before we'd lose a resident to their sharp teeth.

But no one thought to tell the many friends, family and guests who came to the park and stayed for a while.....especially over the holidays.

I saw numerous instances of feeding going on and it's hard to chastise a grandson or granddaughter when they look so cute covered from head to foot in squirrels.

The young Davy Crocketts would squeal with delight at being surrounded by these critters and many a doting grandparent had their work cut out chasing them away with the ends of their walking sticks or, as I witnessed on one hilarious occasion, by zooming around after them on their golf carts. It was a scene worthy of a Monty Python sketch and will remain vividly in my mind for years to come.

So the other day I headed down to the lake and had the whole wooded area to myself to start with. I sat down on one of the picnic tables and waited. Like in a scene from a Disney movie, one by one the curious little squirrels came out from wherever they'd been hiding and came towards me. Now remember we're talking Disney here and not Hitchcock or Stephen King so there were no demonic red eyes to be seen anywhere and even less slobbering/drooling going on. There wasn't any creepy shrill violin music either. It was all a very enchanted forest, chocolate box sweet sort of occasion and while most of the squirrels darted about with little aim or purpose, some went on with the things that squirrels do best - scratching themselves, digging up or burying food, scratching themselves and did I mention scratching themselves ? Well they did that a lot.

In fact this particular squirrel (see above) managed to multitask by trying to stare me down while at the same time it's rear leg was going like the proverbial fiddlers elbow.

In this first shot, the stare had been going for about 30 seconds and was becoming quite disturbing to me.

I've seen a few movies where people die and return as animals (the excellent, if somewhat sentimental Fluke being my favourite) and I was starting to believe this squirrel was trying to send me a message.

I was very pleased when it started to have a good scratch as I took this to be a sign that nothing of a human nature was going on as humans would never sit at a picnic table, stare off into the distance and scratch themselves. Well not without a beer and several burps anyway.

I used a slow shutter speed to highlight the speed of movement going on at the back and this only emphasised the rock steady stare going on at the other end.

When one made it all the way along my table and up to my left elbow, I decided it was time to move on. I'd given them 15 minutes of my time and now they've had 15 of yours.

That should be enough for any budding squirrel celeb.