It's a laugh isn't it. My wife and daughter have both blocked me from their accounts on Facebook because of my "silly" comments. And all the time I thought they were comments filled with wit and invention.
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It's a laugh isn't it. My wife and daughter have both blocked me from their accounts on Facebook because of my "silly" comments. And all the time I thought they were comments filled with wit and invention.
I had a good laugh from that.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
As long as your not using to smoke your meat. Imagine the taste of mellamine smoked London broil!
btw- you might want to check the flue for glue deposits.
...and intelligence.Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
Thanks Gilliatt. I don't question the blocking. Thy'd probably come up with a raft of reasons.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
It's been a harassing half term this year - lots of work, and the feeling that you're just keeping the head up out of the water. Anyway, one of the things that keeps cropping up is parking. At work we have a small 38 - car car park, which the owner has decreed is for staff only. We have 10 classrooms with a potential of 100 to 150 learners for each session. There are occasional flare ups and complaints naturally. Yesterday someone left their car running right in the middle of the car park for about 10 minutes, so no-one could get in and no-one could get out. It raised a bit of blood pressure I can tell you.
I'm also on a local facebook group where we are in contact with our local councillor who will investigate local problems which are largely related to - yes - parking. I don't know what you chaps think, but it seems that it is a constant problem - perhaps there's no problem in Texas, and maybe there's more space for you in Yorkshire. Here, though, it looks as though we'll have to re-design the road system around small estates like ours and/ or have parking permits. They predict that car ownership in the UK will cintinue to rise by millions. I don't think the job's going to get any better.
We have local permits for residents round here and everyone else is pay and display. Parking IS the main issue for town centres, everything else is just rearranging the deckchairs on the Titanic. Mrs P used to try and use the bus - it was difficult and inconvenient - and then the service was cut. She works in town and can't park anywhere near her work as the places are all for one or two hours only. I haven't a clue what the answer is though. I suspect we will have to just keep muddleing through.
Thankfully, parking is not a problem I have to deal with in my city. My city was built around thirty years ago and therefore we have a very modern infrastructure. Enough parking space everywhere, even in the city centre. We have separate bus lanes so the buses don't interfere with regular traffic, which results in very efficient public transport. So infrastructure-wise I'm very happy with my city. However, we do have a lot of cities like Amsterdam and Utrecht where parking is a problem. We therefore usually go by public transport in to the city centre because that saves us a lot of money and time. Since The Netherlands is quite a small country and our big cities are located very near to each other most intercity public transport is very doable and in-city public transport is usually very good as well. I don't have much to complain about except for the rush hour traffic around the big cities, that's a pain.
I spent a few days in Holland, and the public transport is brilliant. Having trains and buses, all integrated and on time, regular and cheap, shows what can be done. And those bike lanes that are actually respected and used.
Yes. The coverage here is patchy. Birmingham has a good service, but it is big enough to sustain the levels of service. I bet it's not so good up your way. The trouble is it would also take a major shift in attitudes from car drivers to do it. I know people who would never contemplate travellingby bus.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Speaking of public transport, we took our Japanese exchange student to London for the day yesterday. We got cheap train tickets, but the journey was 2 hours, and pretty busy. The trip back was really hot, with the place crammed up with people with luggage - there's nowhere to put cases. Luckily we had none. The London bit was good, but as usual we has far too little time to get round.
We spent quite a lot of time around Parliament, Westminster Abbey and the monuments. Great stuff.
Hahaha, opinions differ on that subject. I can tell you that. The NS (the national railway company) is criticized a lot over here. But I'm glad someone has something good to say about them, finally :). I do agree that Dutch public transport is quite good, but us Dutchies tend to nag about the slightest things xD. The bike lanes are the best thing. My city has separate bike lanes everywhere and we also have separate bus lanes so regular traffic and public transport don't interfere.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Here, it is all about the car.
Transportation infrastructure has been centered around the automobile for so long it is difficult, at least here in the DFW area, to develope mass transit systems that can follow logical, efficient patterns, not to mention the efforts in changing the public mindset.
Nevertheless, efforts are being made to develope transit train systems. Dallas has had the DART system for some time that includes buses and trains. New lines are reaching out to suburbs. Denton County, to the north of Dallas/Ft. Worth, has developed a transit train system refered to as the "A Train" that links up to the DART system south.
I live in Denton County and plan to give the "A Train" a try at some point.
The Japanese Student leaves tomorrow on an 11 o'clock plane from Birmingham. She has, of course, been extremely polite, nice and no trouble whatsoever.
It has, though, been like living in a guest house for three weeks. Up at 6, table set with napkins, and a choice of stuff for breakfast - croissants, toast, cereal... no more slumping in front of the telly watching the BBC News with my porridge, putting off the moment I venture out with the dog.
She leaves tomorrow, as i said, but my wife has grown to rather like the Georgian Tea Room formality, and, though it is nice to have a conversation on a morning with my wife and daughter, I think the daughter will revert to her 15 minute toast grab and rush out of the door. The other thing is that we have to listen to local radio and not Planet Rock, or anything lively. They have these tedious - used to do it on Radio One 30 years ago - competitions, where everyone is ever so slightly wacky which is not what I want on a bleary, not yet sun up morning. Ho hum.
I just got back from Mexico. Those Mayans can really bring down a discotheque.
Is this your first exchange student venture? Seems like it would be a rewarding experience.Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
It is the everyone or everything so slightly wacky, that has forced me to set the alarm to wake me at a time that many would think uncivilized, but it allows me the calm I crave before the sun rises.
Coincidentally, my son and a friend had an all night gaming party. They are still sleeping, or attempting to, here in the den with me.
I enjoy these rare occasions, blessings from God if you will, when I'm provided with a captive audience being forced to listen to the likes of Spike Jones...
"Chloe"...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y02l0...eature=related
-----
Mayan disco
A charactersitic they picked up from the Ancient Aliens
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...f_The_Gods.jpg
Course the Aztecs were more into jazz.
And nowadays the sons and daughters of the Mayans and the Aztecs seem to be into the accordion.
No, we had an exchange student last year too as part of my daughter's exchange visit. We ran as a guest house then too.Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
I'm still feeling the fallout, as my wife often doesn't have breakfast, and my daughter grabs her as she rushes out. That leaves me in the conservatory listening to the blah on the radio - though I do tend to put Planet Rock on.
We were about to fall off the front page again.
Nothing much to offer.
Let's see... I just got back from a two day Thanksgiving celebration at my sister's home.
My son backed a tractor into our car, fortunately he was able to slow it down just before impact, but we still ended up with a 4 inch split in the bumper.
"split"...Did you Blokes ever imagine we would have plastic bumpers?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
http://i85.photobucket.com/albums/k7...ick/bumper.png
Ha ha
Ur, I'd kinda like to bumper.
Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Haha!Quote:
Originally Posted by Sancho
I can't top that, unless I play off the concept of "bumping" the Blokes thread...nah that's too soft.
Alright then, as previously promised, during our discussion of the four-stroke internal combustion engine (which Bastable tried to hijack into a discussion about Duchamp’s art, but was quickly reigned back in), a quick post about the importance of top-end lubrication.
http://i971.photobucket.com/albums/a...uno/marvel.jpg
Need I say more? It’s a toolbox in a can. It lubes valves, frees up sticky lifters, helps seat piston rings, unclogs carburetors and fuel injectors, and does oh so much more. You can put it in gas (petrol as you blokes say). You can put in oil. You can put it on your morning oatmeal. Marvel Mystery Oil works in mysterious ways. I just used a capful of the stuff to coax the reluctant engine on my wood chipper back to life.
We used to have something called Red-X to keep our Minis and Hilman Hunters in tip top condition. I remember getting some for my moped (Puch MS 50D) It still only did 26mph flat out.
There's probably not as much need for Marvel now that we're burning unleaded. Although it still comes in handy for a small engine that's been sitting in the barn a while and has a gummed up carburetor. Or in a small airplane engine that burns 100 low lead, which despite its name has a lot of lead in it compared to car gas.
As for speed, I've always thought it to be relative. In aviation, it's relative to altitude: things happen a lot faster at 100 knots in the treetops than at Mach 2 up at 40,000 feet. 26mph ain't bad on a Moped, and I'll bet you'd be somewhere inside of an hour over there on a scooter. Over here, by contrast, I could drive a '67 GTO with a 455cu V-8 flat out for 4 days on Interstate 20 from Georgia and I still wouldn't be to the West Coast. I might not even be out of Texas. The only exciting road feature happens somewhere between Abilene and El Paso where I-20 merges with and becomes I-10. Woo-Hoo.
The size of your place is difficult to comprehend being from such a small country. 15 minutes one way brings me to Warwick - on a Sunday morning without the traffic anyway. 30 minutes the other way and I've passed the international airport and arrived in our third largest city - (the second, Manchester, and the first, London, are 2 and 1 hours drive away respectively). It's 45 minutes to Stratford, and probably, as we're slap in the middle of the country here, 2 and a half to three hours will get you to a coast in two directions, four hours to the south, but considerably more to the North through Scotland. If someone drove for four days from here, they would be deep into Europe - (as i'm no driver, then I've reached the end of my speculations).Quote:
Originally Posted by Sancho
I may have told you this before, but anyway. A teacher friend of mine once went to Florida on holiday, and before she went I asked if she was going to "pop" up to see her sister in LA. She laughed - she may have even scoffed - and informed me that the distance to Florida from the UK was about the same as the distance from Florida to LA. I'm from a small town in a small country. What can I say?
Haha. Yep, the scale of this place can throw you off. Florida to L.A. is a fur piece. And even Americans who are accustomed to driving in the East, are thrown off when driving out West. When you're used to crossing a State line every couple of hours, the Western States can seem absurdly big.
Here's a regionalism: There is another L.A. that's a lot closer to Florida than Los Angeles; in fact, it's part of Florida. The panhandle of that state is sometimes affectionately referred to (by a certain set of folks) as L.A. - Lower Alabama - also known as The Redneck Riviera. There, you can feel comfortable fashioning a pair of swim trunks out of an old pair of camouflage army trousers. High fashion on Fort Walton Beach.
You are quite right Sancho, that 26mph Puch represented freedom to me in a way nothing before or since has. Instead of being trapped on a remote farm, the world was my oyster thanks to my Hog.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sancho
http://i85.photobucket.com/albums/k7..._1974_MS50.jpg
That's a good-looking machine, Mick. And I think we're in agreement and have had similar youth experiences - going mobile meant pure freedom.
Oh great, now I've got that tune by The Who stuck in my head:
I don't care about pollution
I'm an air conditioned gypsy
That's my solution
Watch the police and the taxman miss me
I'm mobile
Sheesh, I can't seem to remember to buy my wife flowers on our anniversary, but I can remember thousands of lyrics from the 70s. So let's tilt a cold one to all the miles we've traveled as "air conditioned gypsies."
Old Brit gag about Americans....Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
American in Somerset: So, this your place, bud?
West Country Farmer: Yerrs, that it be. Arl of it, from the tree down there boy the riverr, roight up to the cattage on the hill o'er yonder.
American: Man, my spread back home, you can step outta the house after breakfast, get in the truck and drive west - come lunch, you'll still be on my property.
Farmer: Aye - we used to have a truck like that.
--------------------------------------------
America, yeah - it's huge. When you fly over it, looking down for hours at the huge expanse of the place, you realise that, in statistical terms, the entire country is unpopulated. There's near as dammit no one there.
A couple of years ago we drove - or rather my American wife drove - from New York to South Florida. There's one long road that goes all the way. (I48? 68? I dunno...) Because the highway's so straight, and because there are so few other cars on it, Anne flicks on the cruise control and then sits with one leg bent underneath her, and the other bare foot on the dash, and a single finger hooked over the bottom of the steering wheel. It drove me nuts, it looked so casually dangerous.
And that road, apparently, is a really busy one compared with those that cross the mid-West.
However, for a real comparison of big, check this out....
http://0.tqn.com/d/goafrica/1/0/b/Q/...-of-africa.jpg
I've still got a truck like that, which brings us full circle back around to the importance of top-end lubrication...Quote:
Originally Posted by MarkBastable
You guys probably took I-95. It runs down the East Coast. It's also a cash cow for Southern States whose state troopers make it a habit to harvest speeding tickets from folks with New York or Connecticut tags. Anyway, the interstate highway system goes like this: even numbers run east-west and odd numbers run north-south. The long ones are counted in tens from west to east and from south to north. So I-5 runs up the West Coast (California, Oregon, Washington) and I-95 runs the Eastern Seaboard. I-10 runs through the Southern states out to Los Angeles and I-80 runs across the Northern Tier. Loops around cities take their name from the through route and add a 2 onto it: I-85 runs through Atlanta and Loop 285 goes around the city. Spurs are numbered like Loops except they start with a 5 or a 6.
I know, that's more than you ever wanted to know about the U.S. Interstate Highway System. But just in case you ever get a hankering to take the most boring road in the world, try I-40 between Oklahoma City and Amarillo. It's straight as an arrow and it's as boring as watching the grass grow. In fact, it's exactly like watching the grass grow. The road builders were kind enough to put buzz strips on the shoulders though. That way you can sleep the whole way - when the road buzzes, you snap awake and straighten out the car. No problem.
This is how I'm imagining Mick back in the day... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E4Siszu8rxcQuote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Great story and Africa...well I can't even begin to imagine how long that Puch would take from top to bottom.Quote:
Originally Posted by MarkBastable
That’s is a pretty long stretch. The occasional thud from a Jack Rabbit or Armadillo, will shake you awake as well.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sancho
For the history buffs, Sancho’s stretch of Interstate 40 generally follows historic Route 66.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._Route_66 (Scroll down and you’ll see the leaning water tower at Groom - I honked at the tower once when passing by)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg2EbJy-9dc
As you approach a town, the Interstate bypasses the town, but the side road to go into town is typically the original Route 66. A perfect example is found in Shamrock Texas.
Sancho next time you make that run, be sure to drive into Shamrock and feast your eyes on a Route 66 architectural wonder; the U -Drop Inn at the corner of Route 66 and Hwy 83
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U-Drop_Inn
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...U-Drop_Inn.jpg
Our firm, along with another architect that specializes in historic preservation, was involved in the restoration. I was fortunate enough to be involved in the project and made several trips out there.
I remember trips out west took even longer in my 1966 VW Beetle. When driving in Colorado, I was forced to stay on the shoulder going up the mountain. Downhill was no problem.
More like this to be honest.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKnoffPV8m0
And no sign of Karen Black either.
Ah, Get your Kicks on Route 66. Probably the most famous road in the world.
Talking about wide open spaces, I read in a National Geographic about a reporter in Australia who pulled up at a gas station/local store and asked for the Smith's place. The owner told him to go down the road a way, take the first right and you can't miss it. A hundred miles further on he saw an oil drum at the side of the road with "SMITH" painted on it next to a rough track. Two Hundred miles later he arrived.
I was watching some news report last night and the minister for houses - or something - was saying that less than 10% of the landmass in England has any kind of development upon it. To listen to people here you'd think that we were in danger of squeezing each other into the sea. You can see it when you go by train - fields- fields -fields - fields - fields - town.Quote:
Originally Posted by MarkBastable
I think what they're really referring to is available resources. We're supposed to be very densely packed as a country as well. You get this figure of 80 people per square mile or something - which is a misleading figure which sounds like a lot but takes up a tiny amount of a square mile.
When I have time I will be relating the tale of Mr Orifice.
So, my wife told me a few weeks ago about Mr Orifice. He's a bloke who gets on the local bus and sits near the front. My wife is not one of those women who are cleaning nuts - though she does of course like a clean house. Nor is she naturally squeamish by nature, having worked as a staff nurse fo a number of years. She is, though, particularly offended by the antics of Mr Orifice, and tries to either get a different bus or try to sit at the front so as not to view his particular ... eccentricities.
She has described, in rather graphic detail, what it is that Mr Orifice gets up to, and he basically sits at the front of the bus and picks at his head. He starts, relates Mrs Paulclem, with his scalp, fastidiously picking any bits off, rolling them between his fingers and dropping them into the aisle. He then progressese to each ear, picking and gouging out any loose ends and similarly rolling, dropping and flicking the detritus into the gangway.
Mrs paulclem has begun pointing out this unsociable behaviour to people she knows on the bus, (for which they are really grateful). I wonder, though, whether you blokes would notice? I probably wouldn't, as I usually have my nose up against the screen of my Kindle. I wouldn't notice, and I think I could barely raise a care about this obsessive picker who runs the risk of being lynched by irate ladies on a particular bus.
Yuk. Another argument in favor of automobile ownership. Here's my contribution to the strange-but-true real-life-public-transportation tales: About ten years ago I was riding the A-Train through Brooklyn, bound for JFK Airport, and I wound up sitting across from a mentally retarded guy with turrets syndrome. At least that was my nonprofessional opinion of his condition. Anyway, every once in a while he'd stare off in the distance and yell, "COKE," and the woman he was traveling with would reach into her bag and give him a can of Coca-Cola. It was good entertainment for a long ride on a local train. Well, somewhere along the line a gal with a huge set of fake knockers climbs on board and this guy zeros in on her chest like a laser. Everybody in the car is watching the show now. And it doesn't take long before the guy's pants start to grow. He was a big fella, I'm here to tell you. The woman he was traveling with wasn't a bit phased; she simply put her shopping bag on his lap and said, "hold this for me, Melvin."
I've never been to Australia, but I've heard similar tales of the Outback. Here are a couple of book recommendations, since this is, at least nominally, a website about literature.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
The Songlines, by Bruce Chatwin
One for the Road, by Tony Horwitz
Both authors wrote about their travels in the Australian Outback, and although published 10 years apart, their trips nearly coincided (if I'm remembering correctly). They wrote about some of the exact same places. They've may have met some of the same people along the way. In fact, as I was reading along, I kept expecting them to bump into each other.
Anyway, it was an interesting contrast in perspective. Chatwin, British, mid-forties, was an established writer, probably already sick, and only a couple of years from death. Horwitz, American, mid-twenties, and just getting started in the writing business. Horwitz hitchhiked it (YGTBSM).
So there's an American and a British take on the Outback. The only other book I've read about Australia (also a recommendation) is by a guy who's sort of in between the two countries:
In a Sunburned Country, by Bill Bryson
It was only because of a train journey I took about 10 years ago that I discovered the true identity of the writer of all those Beatle's hits. It was a bloke called John from Castleford who sat next to me travelling from Blackpool to Halifax. After penning such hits as Love Me Do and She Loves You Yeah Yeah Yeah and then going on to more experimental stuff like Lucy (John's wife)In The Sky With Diamond (John's cat ) Paul MaCartney promised him he would see him right by leaving him the Island of Mull in his will. It was probably the most entertaining train journey I had ever been on. The last thing John mentioned was a trip he'd taken to London in the 60's where he'd seen a tramp in a cafe. "And that's how I came to write Streets of London by Ralph MacTell"he said.
Haha. I made it a rule never to completely trust anyone from Castleford, though at that time I used to mainly know miners. (An unruly lot at the best of times).Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
The bus and train - unless you're on a crammed one - is quite relaxing. That is until some person starts with the inconsequential phone call at full volume. On our way to Manchester last year there was a guy on the coach who kept phoning different people up and telling them the same thing. Those with head-phones donned them, whilst the rest of us spent the trip looking round and and raising our eyebrows at each other in that resigned "there's always one" kind of way. I had to snigger when he kept telling people of him ringing Sharon, but that she never answered.
After reading about Mr. Orifice, I couldn't help but think of Goldmember and his dead skin.
Anyhow, I was on a bus trip a couple years back during which two audible tween 4-H girls were carrying on about animal husbandry, spending the better part of that conversation on methods for studding goats and pigs.
I remember walking up Wheldon Road on match days, swapping jewels of wit and subtle repartee with residents of that fair borough.Quote:
Originally Posted by Paulclem
Been listening to the Flying Burrito Brothers
Here's a Blokes theme song for the day...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bmcT4qieI4
.
I can easily imagine.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Quite a few of the team we played for - Wakefield Trinity Colts - came from Castleford, and I think they had no end of trouble with their local peers. They regularly told us about fights in their nightclub - The Kiosk, (a fine place which I visited once). I think they were regarded as traitors. Worse still, one went on to play for Leeds and another one Bradford. They were a bit handy though, and you could expect a saloon bar brawl if you went out with them - which we did in Blackpool. (Missed the brawl though).
Never heard of the Burrito Brothers Gilliatt, but watching the vid led me on to read about Gram Parsons - fascinating if tragic stuff.