The Diary of a Country Bumpkin

Simplify

Simplify, what a wonderful word to choose today, a word close to my heart and much better than it’s antonym complicate.

I do get accused by my wife of living in the past and there’s a reason for that, for in the past everything was much simpler, cars for example had a much more basic set up. They required a petrol supply, a carburettor to mix the petrol and air, a source of electricity and a distributor to send the current to the right spark plug at the right time and an engine in which the mixture could be exploded to turn the engine round, simple!

All these years later whilst the petrol engine has retained the same basic principal it has been complicated with the addition of much more electric gizmos, which means when they go wrong you have to plug the thing into a computer to find out what’s wrong with it. Gone are the days when if you could check there was a spark and fuel, you pretty much had all the ingredients necessary for the thing to work.

As a classic car owner I am often amused when I have modern young people in one of the cars who ask what the handle on the inside of the door is for and see the look of amazement when you explain, you have to turn it to open the window. We never had windscreen wipers that went at different speeds, they were either, on or off, early cars didn’t have windscreen washers, electric seat motors and heaters. I’m much in favour of the older cars where there is nothing to go wrong.

Long before even I was born there was just the wireless for amusement, that’s radio, just in case you were wondering and then in 1936 Her Majesties BBC started to broadcast television, even though virtually no-one had a television set to watch it on.

It wasn’t until 1955 that the BBC was joined by another channel ITV, both still showing pictures in black and white. Televisions were very simple to operate in those days, there was a switch to turn it on, a knob for the volume, two knobs for selecting which channel to watch and two knobs on the back to fiddle with to tune the thing in.

Things were so much simpler in those days, there was no such thing as a remote we had to get out of the chair and press one of the knobs to change channels, that’s why we were so much fitter than the youth of today who get no exercise, we were up and down like yo-yo’s. Should the television play up and the picture go fuzzy the technically minded would get up from their chair and fiddle with the knobs on the back and if all else failed a sharp bang on the top or the side would usually sort the thing out.

Eventually we gained another channel Her Majesties BBC 2 which arrived in 1964 and a little while later through the wonders of modern science we had colour television.

Things were far simpler then, we had fewer channels which used to close at night after playing the National Anthem, however you could always find something worth watching, unless my memory is playing tricks with me. We now have hundreds of channels and I can rarely find anything to watch and am constantly going up and down the channels searching and I consider myself lucky we have the remote nowadays as if I had to get up every time I would have died from exhaustion some years ago.

I like the idea of being able to simplify things, however perhaps you have to make them more complicated to do so. Years ago when I was writing something I would first write it in a rough book, then I would check and amend in the book and finally type it up with my typewriter, all very simple steps with very simple tools and yet the process took ages to complete.

Now I find I’m going through exactly the same process on a much more complicated piece of equipment and yet by complicating things it has the ability to simplify the number of steps involved and the time taken.

I have convinced myself, the more complicated computer is the way forward with regard to writing, and much as I enjoy my classic cars I also enjoy driving modern cars, however with regard to television I think I’d like to go with the simpler format of fewer channels, but better quality programs.

Well, that’s the end of my blog for today and as they say at the end of the popular “compare the meerkat” adverts; Simples!

Tend

I tend to think I am a fairly easy going sort of chap, although my wife would say I tend more towards the “grumpy old man” end of the spectrum and there may be an element of truth in that.

Whilst driving I have occasionally had the need to raise my voice slightly when I feel the fellow in front of me may be in need of some advice as to how to improve their performance. I’m lucky in as much that most of the time I have a low blood pressure and I feel it is assisted by my shouting, sorry, raising my voice at other road users, at least bringing it down from the temporary high it might have achieved.

There is a very simple way to eliminate road rage and to keep one’s blood pressure at a reasonable level. Firstly, don’t do anything which may cause anyone following you to have to raise their voice to you and if you are unfortunate enough to have made a faux pas raise your hand in a conciliatory fashion. This action will, if you’re lucky be enough to placate the offended motorist, thereby saving you from knowing what it’s like to be clumped round the back of the head with a tyre lever.

If on the other hand your competence when driving is so bad that you are constantly hearing words of encouragement from drivers behind, I suggest you give up driving altogether and take the bus.

Today has been very busy and my blog has taken ages, as soon as I got one thing done, something else turned up which broke my concentration more than somewhat, and I know, like the drivers I can hear some of you shouting, “you’re not trying to kid us you concentrate when writing this rubbish!”

I tend to try to write this all in one go but I’ve just had to stop again, this time for dinner and then I assisted my wife by rinsing the plates and cutlery before putting them in the dishwasher, which has left me feeling quite unnecessary and a little faint, I may have to have a lay down in a dark room.

Or on the other hand I might just get a can of lager and watch some blokes car programme on the television, now I think about it, I tend to think that is the option I’m going to take.

Bewildered

I am bewildered as to why this word has been chosen as it was only five days ago we had the word puzzled.

Due to the fact that I am starting to blog later than usual and I have to leave early to go to a meeting of the Bentley Drivers Club I an going to attempt to leave you with an image from the 1957 film, Pal Joey and why you may well ask would I do that?

The answer is simple, I always tend to start my blog with the first thing that came into my head which on this occasion was the song, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, sung in the film by Rita Hayworth.

Frank Sinatra gave top billing to Hayworth and said of the poster being between the two ladies; “That’s a sandwich I don’t mind being stuck in the middle of.”

I have no idea whether the image will appear but as I’m running a little late I’m just going to press publish and hope for the best and for the benefit of the health and safety people I will add a caveat.

This poster art copyright is believed to belong to the distributor of the film, Columbia Pictures, the publisher of the film or the graphic artist.

Hopefully as I copied the last phrase from the source of the poster, the last disclaimer will prevent me from being arrested for copying the image. Prison is not the place for me, after all look what a detrimental effect it had on Oscar Wilde.

Enroll

Today’s word prompted by Word Press is enroll which must have been chosen by an American as it appears to have been spelt incorrectly as it contains one too many l’s, namely two, which is unusual as the Americans normally have a tendency to remove letters rather than add them

This reminded me of the old saying “there are two l’s in rollocks” which can be the American way of spelling rowlocks, which as we all know is the U shaped piece of metal which keeps an oar in place when rowing.

However the rowlock is located in the gunwale, effectively the side of the boat, which strangely in American is spelt gunnel, now, I can see the point of spelling words as they sound, but I have to admit to being a tad old fashioned and prefer to use the original version, wherever possible.

At this point, one has to mention the Plimsoll line, another word with two l’s in it, which is the load line of a vessel. The line was invented by Samuel Plimsoll and as far as I can tell we all spell it the same, which is useful as I didn’t want this blog to sound like a load of rollocks.

Not wishing to remain with the nautical theme I shall move on to a different tack and mention Groucho Marx who allegedly having been black balled from enrolling into a golf club because he was Jewish, wrote them a letter saying, “I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.” I think he made his point.

Personally I have never enrolled in a golf club, I find it hard to imagine how one can derive pleasure from hitting a little ball into a small hole dragging your golf bats behind you. Often attributed to Churchill was the comment that “golf was a way to spoil a good walk.” My wife, who was a keen horsewoman often commented that a golf links were a dreadful waste of pasture, but I have no idea of the original derivation of the phrase.

Well, I have to leave you now as I have enrolled in a local evening class which I’m hoping will assist me with future blogs, it is of course, a spelling class.

Permit

Without a doubt in modern life we have far too many rules and regulations, one is constantly having to either give ones permission or seek the permission of others to do virtually everything and I suspect most people are so used to this that they don’t even notice.

When parking one’s car virtually anywhere nowadays you need a permit, granted by displaying the ticket you have purchased from the handy machine, assuming you have the right change or a phone and a credit card about your person. I’m sure when I was a boy and I’ll admit that was some considerable time ago, but there used to be car parking with no permit, i.e. no ticket and no charge. Tell that to the plethora of NHS managers running our hospital car parks and they would laugh in your face.

I recently purchased car insurance and during the telephone conversation I was asked to listen to a long list of terms and conditions before they would permit me to complete the transaction. Like me I think most people pay scant regard to the list of conditions and may well have agreed to sacrifice their first born child rather than make a claim.

One of the permits that I’m not at all keen on is the permit required to drive into the London Congestion Zone, now I realise the powers that be think it justified to charge us for the pollution in London but if they removed the bus lanes, cycle lanes, slow traffic lights and all the other obstructions stopping us proceeding at a decent speed, there would be no pollution, ergo, no charge.

Even something as simple as making a phone call requires permission by having to enter one’s security number before proceeding, there should be a way of setting up your phone which takes into account the fact that my phone rarely leaves my pocket and is never used where it may be stolen. I am willing to take a chance on the odds of it getting stolen, which if it were to happen, any thief worth their salt would have it re-chipped in no time at all, negating the need for my access code anyway.

When you start to think about it, you realise just how many things require you to give permission before being able to continue, it wasn’t that many years ago when using a credit card, the permit required was your signature on the paper slip. Gradually more and more information was requested, I seem to remember the first security numbers were just three numbers, then four and finally, (at the moment) four and the addition of the three on the back.

Almost everything you use on the internet requires a password, once again it started all lower case, then required an upper case letter too, then the addition of a number, and finally the addition of a symbol, which is all well and good when your computer is set to remember for you and fills it in automatically. However if someone were to gain access to your computer is considerably less secure than inputting a shorter pass code, not remembered by the computer but one you can remember in your head.

It’s quite amazing how many things require pass codes etc before allowing access in this modern day and age, I could continue moaning about them for ages but time does not permit.

Creature

What sort of animal or creature would you be if you had the choice, I think for me, it would have to be a dog, most of whom seem to have a fairly cushy life if they’re lucky.

I believe it was not us who domesticated the wolves but the wolves themselves who moving closer to our homes looking for food became ever more tame until eventually they were eating from our tables, some 33,000 years ago. I’m just judging by our dog who is a giant poodle, who can when he chooses stand upright with his paws on your shoulders and be standing getting on for six feet tall and yet be a docile and loving creature.

“Theo”, to give him his name lives the life of Riley, he sleeps when he wants, especially now he’s getting older and does pretty much anything else he wants, when he wants for he has domesticated all of us in the family.

We are lucky in that we have a large garden in which Theo can run about, play ball, defecate, urinate, or generally mark his territory in any way he feels fit, including some remarkable acrobatics to mark a tree or bush as high up as possible; for the higher the deposit, the further the scent will travel in the wind.

As someone getting a little older I myself always take the opportunity to use the toilet as one is never certain when the chance may come again, so I can sympathise with his desire to mark his territory although I’m glad my efforts don’t require the acrobatics.

I suspect we are not alone in that we treat the dog as a member of the family, he sleeps on the sofa in the kitchen in front of the wood burner, we wouldn’t want him getting cold, after all. He is also in the habit of joining us when we make tea in the morning and take it to drink in bed before getting up. He jumps on the bed and makes himself comfortable and like this morning when we had a lay in watching television or reading, he too remains with us. I don’t think he views himself as a creature, I have a feeling he thinks he is a human being.

Well I have to go now as we are about to eat and Theo will join us sitting by the side of the table waiting for some titbits, which is pretty much where we came into this 33,000 years ago.

Sympathize

Is this an easy subject chosen as our challenge for the Word Press Daily Post, Prompt of the day, I sympathize with you if you are finding it a tricky one.

My first thought was a feeling that “sympathize” should end with “ise” and the spell checker on my computer seems to be questioning the spelling ending “ize”, which I had assumed would be due to the difference of spelling between American and English. However having checked with my dictionary it seems both are acceptable and has sympathize as first choice.

To sympathize, then is to agree with a sentiment, opinion, or ideology, but not necessarily to have experienced the situation with which you are sympathizing, for if you have experienced that which you are sympathizing with, you are in fact empathizing, which is a totally different ball game.

I came across a definition for the word empathize on the website “vocabulary.com” which was so good I had to reproduce it verbatim.

“To empathize is to understand or relate to someone else’s emotional experience. If you get teary-eyed upon hearing about the death of your friend’s pet hermit crab, you’re probably empathizing with your friend – unless you’re just bored to tears by her story.”

“Empathize is often used interchangeably with sympathize, but you’ll get no empathy (or sympathy) from the usage experts if you confuse the two. When you sympathize with another person, you feel sad that she is suffering, but you don’t necessarily relate to her experience. It’s easiest to empathize when you’ve been through the same experience; for example, if your pet guppy had recently passed away, your friends hermit crab story would have broken your heart, due to empathy.”

I think I’m getting the hang of this now, so for example, should I be unlucky enough to fall from a cliff when out for a constitutional upon the cliff path and be left clinging for dear life to a small outcrop I should hope that any potential rescuers may have had a similar experience. Those rescuers who have not had a similar experience, whilst showing sympathy may merely pass by, whilst those who have empathy would surely throw me a lifeline in an effort to save my life.

For those of you who are finding this blog a little confusing, I apologise and you have my sympathy, or should that be empathy?

Puzzled

I’m discombobulated as to why anyone would choose puzzled as the word for today’s blog subject, but they have, so here goes.

Having reached the grand age of 66 I now realise I have become my father, I hear myself every day uttering phrases which he would have used and being puzzled and confused about the workings of the modern world.

There is not a day goes by where I don’t find myself watching the news on television with my mouth ajar wondering if what I have witnessed really can be true. Only this morning on a television discussion programme the subject of TV talent shows was mentioned and the host reeled of a list of shows as long as your arm, I had no idea there was such a plethora of the things.

I am puzzled as to why there are so many talent shows on television, let alone any at all and I have to admit I absolutely hate the things. The audience have to sit through some of the most dreadful acts I have ever had the misfortune to see and to cheer and encourage the most minimally talented of performers, finally resulting in some mediocre singer becoming a pop sensation for two or three months.

Modern life leaves me puzzled in so many ways, a Manchester art gallery has taken down a Victorian painting Hylas and the Nymphs by J W Waterhouse. The painting is of semi naked adolescent girls bathing in a pool, allegedly it was taken down in a move to encourage debate about how such images should be displayed in the modern age. In my opinion the painting should be displayed in exactly the same way as it was when first shown in 1896, you fix it to a wall in an art gallery and people walk by and look at it.

Having finished my blog today I shall now go to the other room where my children will be watching some dreadful American drama on the television, I shall be puzzled as to why?

Profuse

Latin, I have to admit is not my first language, my first language is English and the vague smattering of Latin that I have gleaned is from smutty schoolboy humour, so I will in advance offer my profuse apologies should anyone take offence at my Latin jokes, or for that matter the bad grammar therein.

Which leads me on to my next topic, Donald Trump and why Trump you may ask, well if you search for news items which might be suitable to use in a blog, the profuse amount of articles from the USA are Trump related and if you search UK news you get brexit, both very dull subjects.

When watching television news, certainly in the UK we no longer get the “and finally” news item, with some light-hearted story of a fluffy pussy cat rescued from a tree by the fire brigade.

I must confess that I didn’t watch President Trump’s State of the Union speech, I do have a life after all, but one understands that he has taken credit for the upturn in the American economy and has thanked the 45.6 million people who watched, claiming it to be the highest number in history.

Now I don’t want to be a wet blanket but you can’t have people in positions of responsibility spouting off facts that are quite clearly not true, even though it seems to be a special talent where some politicians are concerned. It only took a moment to check that in fact it was President Obama who should be credited with this record as his inaugural address to a joint session of Congress gained some 52.3 million viewers and over 48 million for his first State of the Union speech in 2009.

The state of the American economy, I imagine is largely driven by the oil industry and the profuse amounts of the stuff available for export since the start of fracking.

America is on the threshold of the biggest oil and gas boom ever, which means even more will be available for export, this oil being available because of a decision taken by Congress in December 2015 to end the 40 year old ban on exports. I am wondering how President Trump could possibly take any credit for this decision as he wasn’t inaugurated until January 2017.

Like all good news items of the past, after all this rather serious news, I shall leave you with my own, “and finally” comment.

When I saw the topic for today’s blog the first word that came into my head came from an amusing Latin phrase we used to titter at when at school and as I said previously, for any serious Latin scholars, do please forgive the grammar.

The phrase “semper in excretia sumus, solum profundum variat” often seems to sum up my feelings having read the news, it does of course mean; always in the shit, only the depth varies!

Conveyor

Conveyor, a person or thing that transports or communicates something; a conveyor of information, where to start with our subject today?

The first thought that came to mind was “Don’t shoot the messenger” which led me to the story conveyed by Pultarch, a Greek biographer and essayist, who later became a Roman citizen, who told of the story of the arrival of the messenger who spoke to Tigranes during The Roman Wars.

It seems this poor fellow was the bearer of bad news which displeased Tigranes, barely had he spluttered the message out when Tigranes ordered his head to be cut off. I’m led to believe that these actions tended to deter any further messengers from bringing any bad news, perhaps they just arrived and gave a cheery weather forecast and when questioned as to, “anything else”, would say “nothing I can think of” and left as quickly as possible.

I’m always amused by politicians who have a policy or message they wish to convey, when being interviewed by reporters who ask about farming for example, the politician has the opportunity to reply thus. “I’m awfully glad you’ve asked me about farming as it gives me the opportunity to say something wonderful about my parties policy on banking”! Hence the derivation of the word bullshit.

My last thought on the prompt of the day was of my rather wonderful 1947 Bentley Mk VI a splendid conveyor of ladies and gentlemen from that day until this. Just after the war, World War Two for those of you wondering, which war exactly? Britain was on it’s uppers having spent a fortune fighting the war, rationing was still in place and you had to be someone special to be allowed to purchase a motor car.

The car was purchased from Jack Barclay, Hanover Square, London, W1, by a Mr William Wright in December 1947 for the princely sum of £4056.00, which in those days would have been enough to buy three fairly substantial houses. I don’t know how Mr Wright thought about his motor car but having traced the history of the vehicle I do know he was offered three times the purchase price and turned it down. He must have thought it was a rather special Christmas present and I must say I agree with him.

Just because I can convey this story to you in writing does not mean I have the ability to include pictures but I will have a go, I shall if I can leave a link to my website which has a photo of the conveyor mentioned, apologies if it doesn’t work.

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