My malcontentment.
This is an aside to my current bout of shingles and occurred just before the onset of that insidious malady. About four weeks ago and during our Sunday dinner, I happened to bite on a hard piece of my wife's stuffing. I felt and heard a sharp crack in my mouth (this is a due warning to steer clear of my wife's culinary pursuits). The top of my head almost flew off with the pain. Bugger! I thought - or oaths to that effect - I've cracked a tooth. Not only A tooth, it was THE tooth. The one that stands/stood proud and unsupported in my upper gums which I treasure(d) but it is/was in a very vulnerable position. EXTREMELY vulnerable to my missuses crispy stuffing.
After the attack of the crispy stuff I immediately became malcontent 'cos it was then also extremely painful to the touch and masticating on that side of my mouth was impossible.As I mentioned, this was a Sunday, so no dental surgery was available to me. On the Monday - after I'd struggled to get a bowl of lukewarm porridge inside me - I made for the dentists chair. The dentist, I fine upstanding Dutch lady, took everything on board what I told about the incident and she looked at the tooth and then prodded it a bit with a gloved finger. I hurt. It BLOODY HURT! But she tried to convince me that it wasn't broken. I argued that it was. It was my tooth, I broke it and I wanted it out of my head!
But she knew different and she is the expert. So she X-rayed it. Ten minutes later she proudly showed me the X-ray picture of my sentinel tooth and declared in triumph that indeed it wasn't broken! What I had probably done is bruised the surrounding tissue which should respond to a course of antibiotics which she would supply me with. I was to give it a week or so in order for the antibiotics to do their stuff and to come back if the pain still persisted. I went home with my tooth still giving me gyp.
Even during and after that seven day course of antibiotics the pain was horrendous if I as much as chomped on jelly (jello), but I couldn't return to the dentistry 'cos now I had ugly shingles affecting my head from my left eye across my head and into my left ear. Charming! So I had to - not only suffer my hurting tooth, but I had painful and unsightly shingles to contend with while my wife Beryl, (who's stuffing had floored me, remember?) sat sunning herself in the Mediterranean for three weeks on the liner Arcadia!
Anyway, yesterday after about four weeks of discomfort, I took my pain back to the dentist. This very nice Dutch lady invited me to sit in the chair and when I told her that I still had trouble eating and that I definitely wanted the fang out she prodded my hurting tooth AGAIN!! SHE still didn't reckon it was broken and fished out from my notes the X-ray photo as if to prove it. And I must admit that the photo did show my good side and there was absolutely no evidence of a break. But when I continued to insist, she reluctantly agreed to abide by my decision to have it removed and prepared me with the usual needled dose of nova cane.
When my mouth was well and truly numbed she brought the extractor to bear on my tooth and the damn thing almost fell out! Well HALF of the damn thing fell out, the other half is still in and the dentist won't even TRY to remove it 'cos it's too near my sinus gland and I will require hospitalisation to remove it!!! She stood there with the half tooth in the jaws of the extractor, waving it in front of my eyes and said:
"It WAS cracked!" Doh!!!
Friday 25 April 2008
Tuesday 22 April 2008
The Grand Tapestry of Life.
Putting in the pieces.
As I sit here contemplating the chaos that
surrounds me,
my thoughts drift to happier
days to when the sons' of man wandered aimlessly
under cloudless skies.
As I sit here contemplating the chaos that
surrounds me,
my thoughts drift to happier
days to when the sons' of man wandered aimlessly
under cloudless skies.
Where bare feet trod new paths with every step.
Lush vegetation covered the fertile earth
Lush vegetation covered the fertile earth
with a thick carpet of green broken only by a
myriad brightly coloured flowers
that gave off the heady
sweet aroma of paradise.
The warm air was alive with abundant activity.
myriad brightly coloured flowers
that gave off the heady
sweet aroma of paradise.
The warm air was alive with abundant activity.
The gentle sound of bees droning as they went about their business collecting nectar fit for Man or Gods.
All manner of insects did their
part in the creation that is Mother Nature's splendiferous design.
We are each in our own way just a piece in the
eternal and beautiful mosaic of life.
part in the creation that is Mother Nature's splendiferous design.
We are each in our own way just a piece in the
eternal and beautiful mosaic of life.
It matters not that you be dull,
or brightly coloured.
We each of us fit somewhere in the grand tapestry of life.
Anthony W Allsop © 2008
Anthony W Allsop © 2008
Saturday 19 April 2008
The Darts Match.
Date November 12th 1990
ASSAULT AND BATTERY
The Darts Match (a bit of light relief).
Date written November 12th 1990
It was a lousy evening as I made my way home from the darts match. The rain beat down like there would be no tomorrow. Lightning forked the sky chased closely by rolling thunder that could be heard even above the noise of the engine pulling my old saloon (sedan) car. Despite it all, I felt wonderfully happy. I had won my darts match most convincingly, dropped the jackpot on the club bandit and flirted with the barmaid. Now I just had to get home to my wife before I turned into a pumpkin.
As usual for this part of the world it was raining. There I was, bombing along on the crest of a wave, literally, when all of a sudden I hit an extra large puddle. The engine cut out bringing my car to a sudden stop - but not me. I was propelled forward onto the steering wheel and into the windscreen goes my head. BANG!
There's a lot to be said for seat belts but we didn't have to have them in those days. I quickly knocked the car out of gear. The lights went dead. I peered through the rain lashed windscreen and tried to make for the safety of the grass verge. I braked gently and brought the car to a bucking stop, teetering on the side of a ditch.
Having attended night classes in "Car Maintenance" only a few short months previously, I had shrewdly reasoned - before the car had even stopped moving - just what the most likely cause of the failure was, so I wasted no time at all.
I removed the key from the ignition, got out of the car and closed the door to keep out the rain. Raising the bonnet (hood) and propping it up with its stay took only a few seconds. I rummaged around in the engine compartment where I knew the battery to be situated and sure enough found the trouble straight away. The battery lead had come off.
All I had to do was reconnect it, tighten it up and I could be on my way home to a hot cocoa, a cool wife and a warm bed.
Opening the boot (trunk) of my car I fumbled around for the tool I required from among the usual junk strewn there. I found it with little difficulty and made my way to the engine compartment to remedy the fault.
Whilst engaged in the task, there came an enormous sheet of lightening and an almighty crash of thunder. Startled, I made an involuntary movement and the spanner (wrench) I was using to tighten the terminal with the result it came into contact with the body of the car. The spanner stuck there midst a shower of sparks. I jumped in alarm letting go of the spanner as I did so, dislodged the bonnet (hood) stay and the heavy bonnet crashed right on to my head.
I swore a little and propped up the bonnet again. I fished out the spanner from where it was still "glued" and finished the job of connecting the HT lead. I tossed the spanner into the boot and slammed the lid on it. I then went to get into the car to test the repair.
The door was locked!!
Christ! I thought, I'm locked out!
It's a habit of mine to press the door locking handle as I get out of my car, closing and locking in one easy movement. I desperately patted the pockets of my wet jeans and heaved a sigh of relief as I located them. I let myself into the car and allowed myself a half smile as I slumped into the seat.
I put the key into the ignition. I turned it and the old engine burst into life straightaway. I allowed myself another smile. The storm still crashed around me as the rain still lashed the windscreen, but in a few minutes I would be home and tucked up in a warm bed with perhaps a slightly cooler wife. I put the car in gear and switched on the lights and wipers.
I was about to move away when I realised that I still had the bonnet up.
Keep calm man, keep calm I told myself. Just a mere detail. I sat a moment to gather myself.
Satisfied that I was sufficiently gathered I got out of the car, closed the door behind me and - taking hold of the bonnet stay - I located it carefully into its holder. I then let the bonnet drop into its clips.
It was at about this point that I realised that I had locked myself out! The engine was running like a good 'n, the lights were lighting and the wipers were wiping, but I couldn't get in!
I tried all of the doors in turn. No luck. All of the windows were fastened tight too.
I stood there like a defeated soldier of the trenches. Rain soaked, mud and blood spattered, utterly frozen to the marrow and demoralised. I was almost at the end of my tether. Come on Tony - I urged myself - you're not beaten yet! First thing to do is dowse the lights and stop the engine.
I fished the spanner out from the dark depths of the boot, propped the bonnet up on its stay and proceeded with the task of removing a battery lead. I decided to tackle the earth terminal this time, as there would be no risk of a short circuit.
Maybe it was the wet spanner or maybe I was starting to get careless. The spanner slipped from my hand and disappeared into the depths of the engine compartment. I swore. I stared into the engulfing blackness of that engine compartment with unseeing eyes. If only I had a torch, I thought to myself.
Please God! let there be light!
As if in answer to my prayer the whole area was lit up briefly by sheet lightning and I caught a fleeting glimpse of the object of my desires nestling down by the dirty oil filter. I reached into the dark recesses of the throbbing filthy engine to retrieve the spanner, but instead of finding the elusive tool I found a spark plug instead!
Now I won't bore you with the details as to why the human body acts in the way it does when enlivened by a few thousand amps, suffice to say that you just have to remove the part of your body so affected very quickly indeed. My arm shot out of there with the speed of a maiden who had just come across my medical-history notes. Time so short had not yet been invented! In making this sudden unrehearsed movement I dislodged, yet again, the stay supporting the bonnet. It crashed down, this time almost severing the fingers of my left hand (the nails took months to regain their proper nail colour).
It must have been around about this point that I started to get disillusioned with life. I was beginning to go off this motoring lark. (A feeling that I still bear to this day.) I wearily raised the wayward bonnet, propped it and stood back, warily. I decided to ignore the elusive spanner and instead I searched for a pair of pliers that I knew to be in the boot. They did the job in a trice, and with the battery lead off and the storm abating, all around me was dark and relatively quiet.
With the calming of the storm and the clouds starting to thin a little the light of a shy moon shone through the scudding clouds. Through the car window by this light I could see my keys in the ignition. I walked around the car trying all the windows and doors yet again, hoping against hope that I may have missed one or the other. No such luck. It was then that an idea struck me!
At the rear of my car, under the back window is a narrow shelf. This shelf is directly over the top of the boot forming part of the ceiling and is held in position with spring clips from below. All that I had to do was get into the boot. Remove the clips. Push out the shelf, and with a little bit of luck I should be able to reach into the car and lift up the locking handle on one of the doors.
Simple!
..... I must have been.
Everything went according to plan until it came to reaching with my arm through the hole. The space between the back of the rear seat and the rear window was narrower than I had envisaged; little more than the width of my head at its widest (the hole at its widest not my head). But as they say; "There's no fool like an old idiot." so I forced my head through and then one arm. I squeezed a part of my shoulder through and reached as far as I could towards the door handle.
But it was no use. My busty substances kept hampering my efforts. No matter how I tried my fingers were always a good six inches short of their target. So, after a while the futility of my attempts dawned. I decided to withdraw and appraise the situation..................................!
No deal.
I twisted and turned. Strained and twisted and turned. It was no good. I was stuck.
After a short while to gain what composure I could muster, I yet again hit on an idea.
The frame of the seat back didn't appear to be all that strong. If could sprag my legs against something to afford me some leverage I might be able to collapse the back of the rear seat and make the hole bigger. I drew my legs into the boot of the car and splayed them out inside the boot to my best advantage. Having decided that the necessary purchase had been obtained I proceeded to strain against the back of the seat and relax. Strain - - relax - - strain - - relax - - etc.
This set up a yawing motion in the car. I felt something move! I distinctly felt movement! The car moved!! The car slid sideways and backwards into the ditch, the boot lid slammed shut!
I was entombed!!
As I sat trapped there staring at the hedge bottom with knees akimbo, I realised that it had stopped raining. I looked at my watch. Quarter past four. I doubted that my missus had even missed me as yet. But that's another story.
It must have been about an hour or so later that the sound of a car awoke me from a troubled snooze. I couldn't see the car but I heard it stop. I heard the sound of car doors slamming and voices. Hurrah!! Rescue is at hand. I sensed them close by and called out.
"Hellllp!" I cried.
"Hey! there's somebody in here!" I heard one voice say. "Are you alright?" asked the same voice.
Yes I was alright in the circumstances and proceeded to relate the whole sorry episode. They couldn't open the boot because of the way that the car had landed so I gave them my home address and they set off to inform my wife of my well being/predicament and with a promise that they would have her return with help and the spare key.
Knowing that I would be released from my nightmare AND have a sound alibi for the lost time, I once more drifted off into uncomfortable sleep.
It was the sound of a motor again that woke me. My wife's voice was soon anxiously enquiring about my health. The tow-truck had to pull my car from the ditch before they could open it up and get me out. Again I related the nights ordeal to whoever seemed interested. My wife did her best to comfort me through the toughened glass, then one of the breakdown men, who had been busy at the front of my car looking under the bonnet (hood), asked; -
"O.K, Sir, Where have you hidden the battery?"
Some toe rag had nicked it!
ASSAULT AND BATTERY
The Darts Match (a bit of light relief).
Date written November 12th 1990
It was a lousy evening as I made my way home from the darts match. The rain beat down like there would be no tomorrow. Lightning forked the sky chased closely by rolling thunder that could be heard even above the noise of the engine pulling my old saloon (sedan) car. Despite it all, I felt wonderfully happy. I had won my darts match most convincingly, dropped the jackpot on the club bandit and flirted with the barmaid. Now I just had to get home to my wife before I turned into a pumpkin.
As usual for this part of the world it was raining. There I was, bombing along on the crest of a wave, literally, when all of a sudden I hit an extra large puddle. The engine cut out bringing my car to a sudden stop - but not me. I was propelled forward onto the steering wheel and into the windscreen goes my head. BANG!
There's a lot to be said for seat belts but we didn't have to have them in those days. I quickly knocked the car out of gear. The lights went dead. I peered through the rain lashed windscreen and tried to make for the safety of the grass verge. I braked gently and brought the car to a bucking stop, teetering on the side of a ditch.
Having attended night classes in "Car Maintenance" only a few short months previously, I had shrewdly reasoned - before the car had even stopped moving - just what the most likely cause of the failure was, so I wasted no time at all.
I removed the key from the ignition, got out of the car and closed the door to keep out the rain. Raising the bonnet (hood) and propping it up with its stay took only a few seconds. I rummaged around in the engine compartment where I knew the battery to be situated and sure enough found the trouble straight away. The battery lead had come off.
All I had to do was reconnect it, tighten it up and I could be on my way home to a hot cocoa, a cool wife and a warm bed.
Opening the boot (trunk) of my car I fumbled around for the tool I required from among the usual junk strewn there. I found it with little difficulty and made my way to the engine compartment to remedy the fault.
Whilst engaged in the task, there came an enormous sheet of lightening and an almighty crash of thunder. Startled, I made an involuntary movement and the spanner (wrench) I was using to tighten the terminal with the result it came into contact with the body of the car. The spanner stuck there midst a shower of sparks. I jumped in alarm letting go of the spanner as I did so, dislodged the bonnet (hood) stay and the heavy bonnet crashed right on to my head.
I swore a little and propped up the bonnet again. I fished out the spanner from where it was still "glued" and finished the job of connecting the HT lead. I tossed the spanner into the boot and slammed the lid on it. I then went to get into the car to test the repair.
The door was locked!!
Christ! I thought, I'm locked out!
It's a habit of mine to press the door locking handle as I get out of my car, closing and locking in one easy movement. I desperately patted the pockets of my wet jeans and heaved a sigh of relief as I located them. I let myself into the car and allowed myself a half smile as I slumped into the seat.
I put the key into the ignition. I turned it and the old engine burst into life straightaway. I allowed myself another smile. The storm still crashed around me as the rain still lashed the windscreen, but in a few minutes I would be home and tucked up in a warm bed with perhaps a slightly cooler wife. I put the car in gear and switched on the lights and wipers.
I was about to move away when I realised that I still had the bonnet up.
Keep calm man, keep calm I told myself. Just a mere detail. I sat a moment to gather myself.
Satisfied that I was sufficiently gathered I got out of the car, closed the door behind me and - taking hold of the bonnet stay - I located it carefully into its holder. I then let the bonnet drop into its clips.
It was at about this point that I realised that I had locked myself out! The engine was running like a good 'n, the lights were lighting and the wipers were wiping, but I couldn't get in!
I tried all of the doors in turn. No luck. All of the windows were fastened tight too.
I stood there like a defeated soldier of the trenches. Rain soaked, mud and blood spattered, utterly frozen to the marrow and demoralised. I was almost at the end of my tether. Come on Tony - I urged myself - you're not beaten yet! First thing to do is dowse the lights and stop the engine.
I fished the spanner out from the dark depths of the boot, propped the bonnet up on its stay and proceeded with the task of removing a battery lead. I decided to tackle the earth terminal this time, as there would be no risk of a short circuit.
Maybe it was the wet spanner or maybe I was starting to get careless. The spanner slipped from my hand and disappeared into the depths of the engine compartment. I swore. I stared into the engulfing blackness of that engine compartment with unseeing eyes. If only I had a torch, I thought to myself.
Please God! let there be light!
As if in answer to my prayer the whole area was lit up briefly by sheet lightning and I caught a fleeting glimpse of the object of my desires nestling down by the dirty oil filter. I reached into the dark recesses of the throbbing filthy engine to retrieve the spanner, but instead of finding the elusive tool I found a spark plug instead!
Now I won't bore you with the details as to why the human body acts in the way it does when enlivened by a few thousand amps, suffice to say that you just have to remove the part of your body so affected very quickly indeed. My arm shot out of there with the speed of a maiden who had just come across my medical-history notes. Time so short had not yet been invented! In making this sudden unrehearsed movement I dislodged, yet again, the stay supporting the bonnet. It crashed down, this time almost severing the fingers of my left hand (the nails took months to regain their proper nail colour).
It must have been around about this point that I started to get disillusioned with life. I was beginning to go off this motoring lark. (A feeling that I still bear to this day.) I wearily raised the wayward bonnet, propped it and stood back, warily. I decided to ignore the elusive spanner and instead I searched for a pair of pliers that I knew to be in the boot. They did the job in a trice, and with the battery lead off and the storm abating, all around me was dark and relatively quiet.
With the calming of the storm and the clouds starting to thin a little the light of a shy moon shone through the scudding clouds. Through the car window by this light I could see my keys in the ignition. I walked around the car trying all the windows and doors yet again, hoping against hope that I may have missed one or the other. No such luck. It was then that an idea struck me!
At the rear of my car, under the back window is a narrow shelf. This shelf is directly over the top of the boot forming part of the ceiling and is held in position with spring clips from below. All that I had to do was get into the boot. Remove the clips. Push out the shelf, and with a little bit of luck I should be able to reach into the car and lift up the locking handle on one of the doors.
Simple!
..... I must have been.
Everything went according to plan until it came to reaching with my arm through the hole. The space between the back of the rear seat and the rear window was narrower than I had envisaged; little more than the width of my head at its widest (the hole at its widest not my head). But as they say; "There's no fool like an old idiot." so I forced my head through and then one arm. I squeezed a part of my shoulder through and reached as far as I could towards the door handle.
But it was no use. My busty substances kept hampering my efforts. No matter how I tried my fingers were always a good six inches short of their target. So, after a while the futility of my attempts dawned. I decided to withdraw and appraise the situation..................................!
No deal.
I twisted and turned. Strained and twisted and turned. It was no good. I was stuck.
After a short while to gain what composure I could muster, I yet again hit on an idea.
The frame of the seat back didn't appear to be all that strong. If could sprag my legs against something to afford me some leverage I might be able to collapse the back of the rear seat and make the hole bigger. I drew my legs into the boot of the car and splayed them out inside the boot to my best advantage. Having decided that the necessary purchase had been obtained I proceeded to strain against the back of the seat and relax. Strain - - relax - - strain - - relax - - etc.
This set up a yawing motion in the car. I felt something move! I distinctly felt movement! The car moved!! The car slid sideways and backwards into the ditch, the boot lid slammed shut!
I was entombed!!
As I sat trapped there staring at the hedge bottom with knees akimbo, I realised that it had stopped raining. I looked at my watch. Quarter past four. I doubted that my missus had even missed me as yet. But that's another story.
It must have been about an hour or so later that the sound of a car awoke me from a troubled snooze. I couldn't see the car but I heard it stop. I heard the sound of car doors slamming and voices. Hurrah!! Rescue is at hand. I sensed them close by and called out.
"Hellllp!" I cried.
"Hey! there's somebody in here!" I heard one voice say. "Are you alright?" asked the same voice.
Yes I was alright in the circumstances and proceeded to relate the whole sorry episode. They couldn't open the boot because of the way that the car had landed so I gave them my home address and they set off to inform my wife of my well being/predicament and with a promise that they would have her return with help and the spare key.
Knowing that I would be released from my nightmare AND have a sound alibi for the lost time, I once more drifted off into uncomfortable sleep.
It was the sound of a motor again that woke me. My wife's voice was soon anxiously enquiring about my health. The tow-truck had to pull my car from the ditch before they could open it up and get me out. Again I related the nights ordeal to whoever seemed interested. My wife did her best to comfort me through the toughened glass, then one of the breakdown men, who had been busy at the front of my car looking under the bonnet (hood), asked; -
"O.K, Sir, Where have you hidden the battery?"
Some toe rag had nicked it!
Friday 18 April 2008
Friends.
What goes around come around.
I plucked this off my MySpace friend Sarah's (with an aitch) bulletin board. I was challenged to get it to a wider audience and I'm asking you out there to do the same.
Let's see if you think it worthy.
We all know or knew someone like this!! One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle.
It looked like he was carrying all of his books and I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I carried on walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet away from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.
He told me that he had gone to private school before now.I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I did the better I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him, too.
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd, but he had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous!
Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled.
"Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began: "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends... "I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.
He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile."Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. We're all of us involved in each others lives to impact on one another in some way.
Look for Good in others. You now have two choices, you can:
1) Pass this on to your friends or
2) Delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart.
As you can see, I took choice number 1.
Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly. There is no beginning or end..
Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift.
It's National Friendship Week. Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND.
If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends.Anon.
I plucked this off my MySpace friend Sarah's (with an aitch) bulletin board. I was challenged to get it to a wider audience and I'm asking you out there to do the same.
Let's see if you think it worthy.
We all know or knew someone like this!! One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle.
It looked like he was carrying all of his books and I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I carried on walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet away from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives." He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.
He told me that he had gone to private school before now.I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I did the better I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him, too.
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books. Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd, but he had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous!
Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled.
"Thanks," he said. As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began: "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends... "I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.
He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile."Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. We're all of us involved in each others lives to impact on one another in some way.
Look for Good in others. You now have two choices, you can:
1) Pass this on to your friends or
2) Delete it and act like it didn't touch your heart.
As you can see, I took choice number 1.
Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly. There is no beginning or end..
Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is a mystery.
Today is a gift.
It's National Friendship Week. Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND.
If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends.Anon.
Friday 11 April 2008
GIZZMO
This is a little something that I was inspired to write at Christmas 1991. I thought at the time that it was quite futuristic:
15th February 1992
The Department of appraisal,
Victor Gollancz Ltd.,
14 Henrietta Street,
London,
WC2 8QJ
Dear Sirs,
Would you please give me your valued opinion on this work. I would
very much like to know if I am heading in the right direction.
This work is designed to be the basis for a series of short Sci-Fi stories
set around GIZZMO.
The idea lends itself to various plots involving con-artists,
fraudsters, adventure adinfinitum.
Although the GIZZMO itself is pure scientific fantasy, each of the
applications that I have ascribed to it is possible (just) in the
present day. I suspect that if ever it becomes available at Dixons,
it will create their biggest SALES ever.
Yours Faithfully,
Anthony Winston Allsop.
15th February 1992
The Department of appraisal,
Victor Gollancz Ltd.,
14 Henrietta Street,
London,
WC2 8QJ
Dear Sirs,
Would you please give me your valued opinion on this work. I would
very much like to know if I am heading in the right direction.
This work is designed to be the basis for a series of short Sci-Fi stories
set around GIZZMO.
The idea lends itself to various plots involving con-artists,
fraudsters, adventure adinfinitum.
Although the GIZZMO itself is pure scientific fantasy, each of the
applications that I have ascribed to it is possible (just) in the
present day. I suspect that if ever it becomes available at Dixons,
it will create their biggest SALES ever.
Yours Faithfully,
Anthony Winston Allsop.
Future date: Thursday 29th February Circa 2024
GIZZMO By Anthony W. Allsop.
General Information and Selective Service MOdual.
It is compulsory for all citizens over the age of 10 to be issued with and to carry at all times a personal identity and locating package consisting of one GIZZMO duly issued and registered free of charge at your local Post Office on production of form: BT/293840623. Each GIZZMO is issued with its own identification number. Please keep the reg. document in a safe place.
GIZZMO is a hand held, paperback sized, computer and satellite oriented tool that has been designed to be of invaluable help in the world of today. The times that we live in are fast becoming flooded with specialising electronic gadgets for doing this that and the other and our pockets and handbags just cannot cope. Calculators, telephones, radios, TVs and the like are all portable in their own right but together will put a strain on even the best designed suit.
We may also be burdened with cash & credit cards, identity cards, cheque books and notebooks etc. GIZZMO is about to free up much your pocket space. It is powered by an extra long-life and rechargeable-in-situ battery pack. In the unlikely event of battery failure, all personal data will be retained in bubble memory and backed up on the main central computer. A solar power cell is incorporated in the lid to facilitate emergencies.
On first being acquainted with your GIZZMO you will be given access to its Retina Scanning Security System. Choose an eye to be scanned and close the other one. Look towards the top right hand corner of the screen at the small Auto-Focazoom lens. Press any key when ready and the light above the lens will flash briefly. If all has gone well you will see the message "SCAN OK" and then "PLEASE VERIFY".
At this point close the case and open it again. The screen is now completely black and apart from monitoring systems is, to all intents and purposes, switched off. When you are ready, close one eye and look at the lens again. Press any key, the light will flash and, if you have kept open the correct eye, you will have gained access to your GIZZMO and the screen will light up with "READY!" at the top. Try it once again, but with the other eye, and you will see that after the light has flashed the screen will light up and state "RSSS NOT ACCEPTABLE, PLEASE TRY AGAIN OR ENTER CODEWORD. (Codeword operation is described later on).
Each time you access GIZZMO using the RSSS means of identification, your previous scan is relegated to backup and the new one takes its place. This is to compensate for relatively small changes to the pattern on the retina due to ageing.
Once you get GIZZMO on its own you should locate the "Code word mode." At "NEW CODEWORD" enter an easily remembered sentence or phrase that only you should know. (I chose a line from one of Shakespeare's works and just reversed the spelling of one of the words). Press Return and you will be asked to verify the password. If all is well you will get the message "OK!" and then "READY!" This password is to be used as a stand-by should you suffer damage to the eye. You, or anyone trying to gain access by using code mode, will be allowed only three attempts before GIZZMO locks up. When this happens, your GIZZMO can only be opened using the RSSS or at the place of issue by using the master code.
Should anyone try to gain illegal access to or steal a GIZZMO, that person shall be liable to prosecution under the PERSONAL DATA PROTECTION ACT as laid out in the International Government Manifesto. The penalty is a maximum 10 years VDU servitude or a fine of up to 1M ICU, or both.
Your GIZZMO can receive World Wide Multiband TV/Radio and has accessing capability for Video Disc Broadcasting Systems. (This system runs banks of laser video disc players each with multiple pick-up heads. You can join any video you wish and then go to any point on that disc, slow it down, speed it up, freeze frame etc. Thousands of paying customers can watch the same disc at the same time).
Access to public information pages is made easier. Just ask GIZZMO to download the lot into its database then use search mode to get what you want very quickly. Parity is 99.9% guaranteed thanks to high-power orbiting relay stations and UHF microwave transmitters. Needless to say it is a scientific programmable calculator, and it can also be used for programming and compiling in any one of a dozen different computer languages.
With its stereo socket and built in MIDI system, it can be used in a limited way as a music studio and with such classics as "COMPOSITRON MUSIC PUBLISHER" available, you can produce your own symphonic compositions. So Come'on yor'l, boogy on down!
Most of GIZZMO's applications can be summoned from its fully comprehensive computer style keyboard. Complete with function, numerical and qwerty keys, it converses with the user through its inbuilt High Definition LCCVDU screen or, using its Oratormax Voice Recognition Initialising and Emulation System, you can just talk to it. (Once you have given it a sample of your voice). Note: children and a few asthmatics, may have difficulty with this mode and to date it is not the most reliable of communication mediums.
Its inbuilt modules and input/output sockets allow GIZZMO to be plugged into external peripherals such as large screen displays, printers and of course other computers. (Even most of the remaining PC non-compatibles). Finding your way around GIZZMO couldn't be easier. Its fully integrated WILCO system combined with GEM, allows the user to access many of the applications directly from its own - more than ample - ROM and RAM (About 1 gigabyte at the last count, with upgrades available). The displays and windows can be also be negotiated by controlling cursor movements with caress-pad (just stroke your finger in the direction that you wish to move the cursor), or light-pen that can be unclipped from its flush fitting housing.
Just highlight the icon item or file required by touching it with the pen. Files can also be dragged to and from folders using the pen. (Research is still under way trying to perfect the "Eye Movement Controlled Cursor" using a stereoscopic version of the Auto-Focazoom lens system.
When trials are finalised, your GIZZMO will be upgraded to take advantage of this wonderful facility.)
Any application, game or whatever that is not held in GIZZMO's memory, can be downloaded from the central computer in just a few seconds. The download operation involves the worldwide network of ISSI (International Satellite Systems INC.) Any communication with this system is automatically charged to your GIZZMO account at the current rate. The currency for all transactions is the standard ICU. Banking and Stockbroking can be carried out using GIZZMO as you have direct access to the international stock market.
Your salary can be paid directly to your account as can any other money promised. Just bring up your bank account. It will ask for your account number. It will then ask what sort of transaction you wish to make. Type CREDIT followed by the amount. It will then ask who's account. Here you enter the name of the payee. Finally you let the payee enter his/her account number. If the transaction is valid then GIZZMO OK's it and asks if there is any other business. Paying out is a similar process. Standing orders or direct debits can be taken care of also and you always have an up-to-date record of transactions.
GIZZMO comes fully equipped for multi-tasking.
A limited number of applications can be downloaded to GIZZMO and kept in separate compartments of memory at the same time. They can then be mixed or merged and generally used at will.
Maps of anywhere on Earth can be called up and zoomed into for more detail. A "Direction Indicator", the small LCD arrow on GIZZMO's lid, guides you to your chosen destination. It works on a similar principle to a magnetic compass, but instead of a magnetic field it employs the use of interlacing satellite beacons. If GIZZMO detects a need to deviate from a straight course because of a river for example, then it will direct you to the angle of the first dog-leg first, then the angle of the second, and so on. It matters not which way GIZZMO is facing.
Using this facility to get around on foot in strange locations, major cities etc., is like a dream come true. Navigator plots routes from "A", which is where you are located, to "B", your chosen destination. Making best use of up to the minute traffic and road reports, trade winds and ocean currents etc. Ideal too for sailing. High/low tides. This information can be accessed for anywhere on earth for any time in the past, present or future. It can even predict coastal erosion and sand bar movement. It also houses a micro locating device, it works on the same wavelength as the motion sensing ones that we use for protecting our property and other valuables, in case you or it get separated.
Each GIZZMO has its individual registration number as well as the password that only you should know. If your GIZZMO is stolen or lost you must contact the Retrieval Unit (Number on home page). Inform them of your loss and they will locate it in no time at all.
Reading matter such as books, magazines, newspapers etc. can be called up from list and downloaded inclusive of graphics, to be read at leisure. As with the viewing of video and such nature, all reading matter is censored according to the age of the recipient. Variable sized print can be summoned up to aid the poorly sighted. GIZZMO will even read it out to you if required with its extraordinarily lifelike simulated voice. Full intonation and expression has been added to the new version of Oratormax making it ideal for getting the young ones off to sleep. Just choose a bedtime story to be down loaded.
GIZZMO is an ideal learning and teaching tool. You can leave your children safely in the hands of GIZZMO and its main computer. With its concept of Languages, Mathematics (even higher), Geography and English etc., and with its capacity for full interaction, the kids love it. And you have no need to worry about the children slacking as GIZZMO keeps record of their progress and adjusts its teaching to suit the individual. It also suggests ways of helping those who may start to fall behind before it is too late. Homework can also be set on GIZZMO allowing extra tuition for students attending the state schools.
GIZZMO is also programmed to deal with adult further education up to optional university standard.
You can do the shopping from the comfort of your own home using GIZZMO in a number of ways. If you do most of your shopping at MULTIMART then select MULTIMART from the main menu using the search mode. You can converse either verbally or via keyboard etc. Even if you spell the store name incorrectly, GIZZMO will make enough sense of it to home in. Right, so now you are inside the superstore.
You want soup? You ask for soup. A menu of soups is listed in front of you complete with ingredients, additives, size, price etc. Pick which you require and then cancel that menu.
Vegetables? do the same sort of search. If you require something like a fridge or washing machine, after calling up that particular department you can select an item and be shown around it in full colour. Using the pen or caress-pad you can open its doors lift the lid or switch it on. (Plug GIZZMO into your home hologrammer and it feels as if you are there except, that there are no salesmen). Play about with it as long as you like until you are satisfied that that is what you want, then order.
A trip to the dress department at C&A via GIZZMO can be quite entertaining. When you have finalised your shopping the items are automatically dispatched to your home or if you wish, to anywhere designated by you. Your account is then debited the total cost of the items, less any discount.
Reservations for any sporting occasion or theatre etc. can be booked in this way. Your GIZZMO is your entry ticket to the venue.
The "view prior to purchase" feature really comes into its own when you are trying to decide on a holiday destination. You are allowed to browse around the chosen holiday apartment block, the local shops and restaurants and even the beach. (Turn up the brightness on your screen and you may even get a tan).
This shopper mode can also be used for buying and selling second hand items. There is a charge for your own advertising until the article is either sold or the ad. is removed. The charge depends on how involved the ad. is. Using this mode I found a front fender for a 57 Chevy and sold 450 reclaimed house bricks. It can be used for job hunting too on a grand scale. After you have located the vacancy that you feel would be suitable, you can be initially interviewed by your prospective boss using via GIZZMO.
For those of us who appreciate a bargain, GIZZMO can be asked to find the best bargain on offer whether it be a round trip to the moon or a pair of Y Fronts.
World clock. The inbuilt clock is kept correct to the millisecond by being updated every time you access the main computer. All the world's time zones are defined.
A large number of alarm and appointment settings are available. These settings can be used to warn of coming events hours, days, months, even years ahead. You need never forget a birthday or an anniversary ever again. And of course IF YOU DO you can order a last gasp present.
GIZZMO is multilingual and can translate any documentation into any given language by selecting from its main menu that language. This makes foreign correspondence as easy as pi.
GIZZMO has an on-board word processor with phonetic dictionary which includes personal update facility, grammatical correction modes, thesaurus and like words, plus definitions. With a printer attached, and via voice recognition, your document can be dictated to GIZZMO,
processed, correctly transposed and then printed out or sent electronically.
Various word games are also included in ROM. It can also tackle DTP if connected to suitable monitor and printer.
A personal telephone directory and appointment book are standard. Any other number required can be found using GIZZMO's main computer DATASEARCH facility available from the desktop. Numbers are dialled merely by highlighting them and then pressing send.
One of the games and pastimes that can be downloaded is a very good chess program.
It has 10 levels of play, 9 of which are played off line. That is, once the chess game is stored in GIZZMO's RAM, you may play any number of games for any length of time without accessing the main computer terminal again. Level ten however is a different game altogether. Select this and GIZZMO asks how much you wish to play for over the best of three game Match. You can play for any amount that you can safely afford to lose. GIZZMO will credit your account at odds of 1000 to 1 if you can beat the computer or 10 to 1 if you can force a draw. These might seem generous odds. However - apart from one or two Grand Masters of chess - very few players have managed a win. The main computer learns very quickly by experience. If it should lose, it dissects the game play and never makes the same error twice.
With thousands of games under its belt it has become a most awesome opponent. It's better than the old fashioned and now illegal football pools type of gambling, though. You may also play a human opponent using your individual GIZZMO's. The chess men are moved simply by touching the piece that you wish to move with either cursor or pen, and then touching the opponents piece that you are about to take or the vacant square of your choice. If it is not a legal move then GIZZMO will inform you. (On level 10 GIZZMO may insist that you move that piece so touched if it is a legal move so to do.)
Please note that air time when playing in this way - as when playing GIZZMO's central computer - is cut to a minimum as the only time that you are on air is when each individual move is sent. (About 1.3 seconds per move on average)
Other games run on a similar basis include - Backgammon, various card games, checkers and Scrabble. The winning odds vary.
Security. An on-board heat sensor working in conjunction with a loud audible alarm that acts as an intruder alarm or fire warning. The alarm systems can also be activated remotely by the Pulser Doorbell or the Pulser Burglary Alarm System. (GIZZMO can monitor either audibly or
audio visually. Callers at your properties whilst you are not in attendance can be scrutinised remotely. Ideal for shops left unattended for a few minutes.) It is also equipped for the detection of smoke, movement, gases and radiation.
Health. You will find a small receptor each side of the space bar. Bring up Med Check onto your screen and then place your thumb on one receptor and a finger on the other. After a few moments GIZZMO will inform you of your blood pressure, heartbeat and body temperature. This information is also recorded on your central health records. You will be notified through GIZZMO if you should require medical attention.
GIZZMO is a fully equipped telephone, answering machine and Faxing tool. Documents and graphics can be read using the scanner that is located on the hinge side of the set. Once in memory they can be sent to any other receiver in the world. Caller's number is logged
automatically so that even if they don't leave a message, you know they have called. GIZZMO's slimline remote handset fits snugly at the side of the screen in the lid. Call charges are the same for whichever part of the world you wish to dial. There is however a band of charges for the type of connection required. "Personal Davidson", a sort of assistant. The most expensive and calls have to be booked in advance.
Next comes Speech only. Then there's Faxing, Message Store & Relay, Answercall and finally, Display Text at the very bottom of the scale. DT is cheapest because you can send up to 30k of text (compressed of course), in about 2 secs flat. A personal telephone directory and appointment book are standard. Any other number required can be found using GIZZMO's main computer DATASEARCH facility available from the desktop. Numbers are dialled merely by highlighting them and tapping.
Automotion. Any traffic violations that you are observed to be guilty of, are recorded automatically by GIZZMO along with the statutory fines that are imposed and that are debited from your account. Appeals can be made but the evidence usually weighs too heavily against you. After all, the GIZZMO should be with you at all times - it is a legal requirement -and tracking of GIZZMO is just a matter of course.
GIZZMO incorporates a very extensive manual to help you find your way around its many and varied applications. Should any problem arise that cannot be solved using this manual then you are advised to contact the Post Office where it was issued.
- - - - - - - - -
GLOSSARY
DT - Display Text.
DTP - Desktop Publishing.
GEM - Graphic Environment Manager.
GIZZMO - General Information & Selective Service MOdual.
ICU - International Currency Unit.
LCCVDU - Liquid Crystal Colour Visual Display Unit
MIDI - Musical Instrument Digital Interface.
RAM - Random Access Memory.
ROM - Read Only Memory.
RSSS - Retina Scanning Security System.
VDU - Visual Display Unit.
WP - Word processor.
WILCO - Windows Icons Light-pen Caress-pad Oratormax.
Enjoy!
Copyright Anthony W Allsop 1991.
Once you get GIZZMO on its own you should locate the "Code word mode." At "NEW CODEWORD" enter an easily remembered sentence or phrase that only you should know. (I chose a line from one of Shakespeare's works and just reversed the spelling of one of the words). Press Return and you will be asked to verify the password. If all is well you will get the message "OK!" and then "READY!" This password is to be used as a stand-by should you suffer damage to the eye. You, or anyone trying to gain access by using code mode, will be allowed only three attempts before GIZZMO locks up. When this happens, your GIZZMO can only be opened using the RSSS or at the place of issue by using the master code.
Should anyone try to gain illegal access to or steal a GIZZMO, that person shall be liable to prosecution under the PERSONAL DATA PROTECTION ACT as laid out in the International Government Manifesto. The penalty is a maximum 10 years VDU servitude or a fine of up to 1M ICU, or both.
Your GIZZMO can receive World Wide Multiband TV/Radio and has accessing capability for Video Disc Broadcasting Systems. (This system runs banks of laser video disc players each with multiple pick-up heads. You can join any video you wish and then go to any point on that disc, slow it down, speed it up, freeze frame etc. Thousands of paying customers can watch the same disc at the same time).
Access to public information pages is made easier. Just ask GIZZMO to download the lot into its database then use search mode to get what you want very quickly. Parity is 99.9% guaranteed thanks to high-power orbiting relay stations and UHF microwave transmitters. Needless to say it is a scientific programmable calculator, and it can also be used for programming and compiling in any one of a dozen different computer languages.
With its stereo socket and built in MIDI system, it can be used in a limited way as a music studio and with such classics as "COMPOSITRON MUSIC PUBLISHER" available, you can produce your own symphonic compositions. So Come'on yor'l, boogy on down!
Most of GIZZMO's applications can be summoned from its fully comprehensive computer style keyboard. Complete with function, numerical and qwerty keys, it converses with the user through its inbuilt High Definition LCCVDU screen or, using its Oratormax Voice Recognition Initialising and Emulation System, you can just talk to it. (Once you have given it a sample of your voice). Note: children and a few asthmatics, may have difficulty with this mode and to date it is not the most reliable of communication mediums.
Its inbuilt modules and input/output sockets allow GIZZMO to be plugged into external peripherals such as large screen displays, printers and of course other computers. (Even most of the remaining PC non-compatibles). Finding your way around GIZZMO couldn't be easier. Its fully integrated WILCO system combined with GEM, allows the user to access many of the applications directly from its own - more than ample - ROM and RAM (About 1 gigabyte at the last count, with upgrades available). The displays and windows can be also be negotiated by controlling cursor movements with caress-pad (just stroke your finger in the direction that you wish to move the cursor), or light-pen that can be unclipped from its flush fitting housing.
Just highlight the icon item or file required by touching it with the pen. Files can also be dragged to and from folders using the pen. (Research is still under way trying to perfect the "Eye Movement Controlled Cursor" using a stereoscopic version of the Auto-Focazoom lens system.
When trials are finalised, your GIZZMO will be upgraded to take advantage of this wonderful facility.)
Any application, game or whatever that is not held in GIZZMO's memory, can be downloaded from the central computer in just a few seconds. The download operation involves the worldwide network of ISSI (International Satellite Systems INC.) Any communication with this system is automatically charged to your GIZZMO account at the current rate. The currency for all transactions is the standard ICU. Banking and Stockbroking can be carried out using GIZZMO as you have direct access to the international stock market.
Your salary can be paid directly to your account as can any other money promised. Just bring up your bank account. It will ask for your account number. It will then ask what sort of transaction you wish to make. Type CREDIT followed by the amount. It will then ask who's account. Here you enter the name of the payee. Finally you let the payee enter his/her account number. If the transaction is valid then GIZZMO OK's it and asks if there is any other business. Paying out is a similar process. Standing orders or direct debits can be taken care of also and you always have an up-to-date record of transactions.
GIZZMO comes fully equipped for multi-tasking.
A limited number of applications can be downloaded to GIZZMO and kept in separate compartments of memory at the same time. They can then be mixed or merged and generally used at will.
Maps of anywhere on Earth can be called up and zoomed into for more detail. A "Direction Indicator", the small LCD arrow on GIZZMO's lid, guides you to your chosen destination. It works on a similar principle to a magnetic compass, but instead of a magnetic field it employs the use of interlacing satellite beacons. If GIZZMO detects a need to deviate from a straight course because of a river for example, then it will direct you to the angle of the first dog-leg first, then the angle of the second, and so on. It matters not which way GIZZMO is facing.
Using this facility to get around on foot in strange locations, major cities etc., is like a dream come true. Navigator plots routes from "A", which is where you are located, to "B", your chosen destination. Making best use of up to the minute traffic and road reports, trade winds and ocean currents etc. Ideal too for sailing. High/low tides. This information can be accessed for anywhere on earth for any time in the past, present or future. It can even predict coastal erosion and sand bar movement. It also houses a micro locating device, it works on the same wavelength as the motion sensing ones that we use for protecting our property and other valuables, in case you or it get separated.
Each GIZZMO has its individual registration number as well as the password that only you should know. If your GIZZMO is stolen or lost you must contact the Retrieval Unit (Number on home page). Inform them of your loss and they will locate it in no time at all.
Reading matter such as books, magazines, newspapers etc. can be called up from list and downloaded inclusive of graphics, to be read at leisure. As with the viewing of video and such nature, all reading matter is censored according to the age of the recipient. Variable sized print can be summoned up to aid the poorly sighted. GIZZMO will even read it out to you if required with its extraordinarily lifelike simulated voice. Full intonation and expression has been added to the new version of Oratormax making it ideal for getting the young ones off to sleep. Just choose a bedtime story to be down loaded.
GIZZMO is an ideal learning and teaching tool. You can leave your children safely in the hands of GIZZMO and its main computer. With its concept of Languages, Mathematics (even higher), Geography and English etc., and with its capacity for full interaction, the kids love it. And you have no need to worry about the children slacking as GIZZMO keeps record of their progress and adjusts its teaching to suit the individual. It also suggests ways of helping those who may start to fall behind before it is too late. Homework can also be set on GIZZMO allowing extra tuition for students attending the state schools.
GIZZMO is also programmed to deal with adult further education up to optional university standard.
You can do the shopping from the comfort of your own home using GIZZMO in a number of ways. If you do most of your shopping at MULTIMART then select MULTIMART from the main menu using the search mode. You can converse either verbally or via keyboard etc. Even if you spell the store name incorrectly, GIZZMO will make enough sense of it to home in. Right, so now you are inside the superstore.
You want soup? You ask for soup. A menu of soups is listed in front of you complete with ingredients, additives, size, price etc. Pick which you require and then cancel that menu.
Vegetables? do the same sort of search. If you require something like a fridge or washing machine, after calling up that particular department you can select an item and be shown around it in full colour. Using the pen or caress-pad you can open its doors lift the lid or switch it on. (Plug GIZZMO into your home hologrammer and it feels as if you are there except, that there are no salesmen). Play about with it as long as you like until you are satisfied that that is what you want, then order.
A trip to the dress department at C&A via GIZZMO can be quite entertaining. When you have finalised your shopping the items are automatically dispatched to your home or if you wish, to anywhere designated by you. Your account is then debited the total cost of the items, less any discount.
Reservations for any sporting occasion or theatre etc. can be booked in this way. Your GIZZMO is your entry ticket to the venue.
The "view prior to purchase" feature really comes into its own when you are trying to decide on a holiday destination. You are allowed to browse around the chosen holiday apartment block, the local shops and restaurants and even the beach. (Turn up the brightness on your screen and you may even get a tan).
This shopper mode can also be used for buying and selling second hand items. There is a charge for your own advertising until the article is either sold or the ad. is removed. The charge depends on how involved the ad. is. Using this mode I found a front fender for a 57 Chevy and sold 450 reclaimed house bricks. It can be used for job hunting too on a grand scale. After you have located the vacancy that you feel would be suitable, you can be initially interviewed by your prospective boss using via GIZZMO.
For those of us who appreciate a bargain, GIZZMO can be asked to find the best bargain on offer whether it be a round trip to the moon or a pair of Y Fronts.
World clock. The inbuilt clock is kept correct to the millisecond by being updated every time you access the main computer. All the world's time zones are defined.
A large number of alarm and appointment settings are available. These settings can be used to warn of coming events hours, days, months, even years ahead. You need never forget a birthday or an anniversary ever again. And of course IF YOU DO you can order a last gasp present.
GIZZMO is multilingual and can translate any documentation into any given language by selecting from its main menu that language. This makes foreign correspondence as easy as pi.
GIZZMO has an on-board word processor with phonetic dictionary which includes personal update facility, grammatical correction modes, thesaurus and like words, plus definitions. With a printer attached, and via voice recognition, your document can be dictated to GIZZMO,
processed, correctly transposed and then printed out or sent electronically.
Various word games are also included in ROM. It can also tackle DTP if connected to suitable monitor and printer.
A personal telephone directory and appointment book are standard. Any other number required can be found using GIZZMO's main computer DATASEARCH facility available from the desktop. Numbers are dialled merely by highlighting them and then pressing send.
One of the games and pastimes that can be downloaded is a very good chess program.
It has 10 levels of play, 9 of which are played off line. That is, once the chess game is stored in GIZZMO's RAM, you may play any number of games for any length of time without accessing the main computer terminal again. Level ten however is a different game altogether. Select this and GIZZMO asks how much you wish to play for over the best of three game Match. You can play for any amount that you can safely afford to lose. GIZZMO will credit your account at odds of 1000 to 1 if you can beat the computer or 10 to 1 if you can force a draw. These might seem generous odds. However - apart from one or two Grand Masters of chess - very few players have managed a win. The main computer learns very quickly by experience. If it should lose, it dissects the game play and never makes the same error twice.
With thousands of games under its belt it has become a most awesome opponent. It's better than the old fashioned and now illegal football pools type of gambling, though. You may also play a human opponent using your individual GIZZMO's. The chess men are moved simply by touching the piece that you wish to move with either cursor or pen, and then touching the opponents piece that you are about to take or the vacant square of your choice. If it is not a legal move then GIZZMO will inform you. (On level 10 GIZZMO may insist that you move that piece so touched if it is a legal move so to do.)
Please note that air time when playing in this way - as when playing GIZZMO's central computer - is cut to a minimum as the only time that you are on air is when each individual move is sent. (About 1.3 seconds per move on average)
Other games run on a similar basis include - Backgammon, various card games, checkers and Scrabble. The winning odds vary.
Security. An on-board heat sensor working in conjunction with a loud audible alarm that acts as an intruder alarm or fire warning. The alarm systems can also be activated remotely by the Pulser Doorbell or the Pulser Burglary Alarm System. (GIZZMO can monitor either audibly or
audio visually. Callers at your properties whilst you are not in attendance can be scrutinised remotely. Ideal for shops left unattended for a few minutes.) It is also equipped for the detection of smoke, movement, gases and radiation.
Health. You will find a small receptor each side of the space bar. Bring up Med Check onto your screen and then place your thumb on one receptor and a finger on the other. After a few moments GIZZMO will inform you of your blood pressure, heartbeat and body temperature. This information is also recorded on your central health records. You will be notified through GIZZMO if you should require medical attention.
GIZZMO is a fully equipped telephone, answering machine and Faxing tool. Documents and graphics can be read using the scanner that is located on the hinge side of the set. Once in memory they can be sent to any other receiver in the world. Caller's number is logged
automatically so that even if they don't leave a message, you know they have called. GIZZMO's slimline remote handset fits snugly at the side of the screen in the lid. Call charges are the same for whichever part of the world you wish to dial. There is however a band of charges for the type of connection required. "Personal Davidson", a sort of assistant. The most expensive and calls have to be booked in advance.
Next comes Speech only. Then there's Faxing, Message Store & Relay, Answercall and finally, Display Text at the very bottom of the scale. DT is cheapest because you can send up to 30k of text (compressed of course), in about 2 secs flat. A personal telephone directory and appointment book are standard. Any other number required can be found using GIZZMO's main computer DATASEARCH facility available from the desktop. Numbers are dialled merely by highlighting them and tapping.
Automotion. Any traffic violations that you are observed to be guilty of, are recorded automatically by GIZZMO along with the statutory fines that are imposed and that are debited from your account. Appeals can be made but the evidence usually weighs too heavily against you. After all, the GIZZMO should be with you at all times - it is a legal requirement -and tracking of GIZZMO is just a matter of course.
GIZZMO incorporates a very extensive manual to help you find your way around its many and varied applications. Should any problem arise that cannot be solved using this manual then you are advised to contact the Post Office where it was issued.
- - - - - - - - -
GLOSSARY
DT - Display Text.
DTP - Desktop Publishing.
GEM - Graphic Environment Manager.
GIZZMO - General Information & Selective Service MOdual.
ICU - International Currency Unit.
LCCVDU - Liquid Crystal Colour Visual Display Unit
MIDI - Musical Instrument Digital Interface.
RAM - Random Access Memory.
ROM - Read Only Memory.
RSSS - Retina Scanning Security System.
VDU - Visual Display Unit.
WP - Word processor.
WILCO - Windows Icons Light-pen Caress-pad Oratormax.
Enjoy!
Copyright Anthony W Allsop 1991.
Thursday 10 April 2008
Evolution.
Hold onto your hats:
US scientists have discovered that young male monkeys prefer to play with boys toys while female monkeys like playing with dolls, just like human kids.
Read it for yourself at:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080408.wtoys08/BNStory/Science/homeIt’s
primate playtime!
The US team – Janice Hassett, Kim Wallen and Erin Seibert – decided to offer typical "male" and "female" toys to rhesus monkeys to see if toy preferences aligned with sex. The researchers offered 11 young male and 23 young females rhesus monkeys wheeled toys and plush toys. The wheeled toys, intended to be masculine, included wagons and vehicles. The more feminine plush toys included Winnie the Pooh and Raggedy-Ann dolls.
The researchers found that the females showed a slight preference for the plush toys whereas the males showed a very striking preference for the wheeled toys.
"It’s exactly [the marked preference] that you see in published reports about humans," Prof. Wallen said in a telephone interview yesterday.
However, he also cautions about reading too much into all this:
"What we think may be operating – in kids as well as monkeys – is that one of the primary sex differences is in the activities that males and females find rewarding or pleasurable, and you pick the toys that facilitate the things you like to do," he said.
He also said: "I think one of the biggest sex differences in little monkeys is that males like this kind of rough-and-tumble wrestling play and engage in this much more than little females do.
And little females really like touching and holding infants and they do that much, much more than little males do."
So there you have it, sort of. REAL little monkeys are little different from HUMAN little monkeys. Being the father of four and having umpteen grand-kids, I could have told them that without all their expensive scientific mumbo jumbo.
Is this yet another nail in the coffin?
Pass me another banana.
US scientists have discovered that young male monkeys prefer to play with boys toys while female monkeys like playing with dolls, just like human kids.
Read it for yourself at:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080408.wtoys08/BNStory/Science/homeIt’s
primate playtime!
The US team – Janice Hassett, Kim Wallen and Erin Seibert – decided to offer typical "male" and "female" toys to rhesus monkeys to see if toy preferences aligned with sex. The researchers offered 11 young male and 23 young females rhesus monkeys wheeled toys and plush toys. The wheeled toys, intended to be masculine, included wagons and vehicles. The more feminine plush toys included Winnie the Pooh and Raggedy-Ann dolls.
The researchers found that the females showed a slight preference for the plush toys whereas the males showed a very striking preference for the wheeled toys.
"It’s exactly [the marked preference] that you see in published reports about humans," Prof. Wallen said in a telephone interview yesterday.
However, he also cautions about reading too much into all this:
"What we think may be operating – in kids as well as monkeys – is that one of the primary sex differences is in the activities that males and females find rewarding or pleasurable, and you pick the toys that facilitate the things you like to do," he said.
He also said: "I think one of the biggest sex differences in little monkeys is that males like this kind of rough-and-tumble wrestling play and engage in this much more than little females do.
And little females really like touching and holding infants and they do that much, much more than little males do."
So there you have it, sort of. REAL little monkeys are little different from HUMAN little monkeys. Being the father of four and having umpteen grand-kids, I could have told them that without all their expensive scientific mumbo jumbo.
Is this yet another nail in the coffin?
Pass me another banana.
Ball Lightning.
This is a little something that I wrote on 5th December 1994 to the:
National Meteorology Society, LONDON.
Dear Sirs,
A recent "Equinox" program on channel 4 TV on the mysteries of ball lightning has inspired me to write about an experience that I have lived with for 40 odd years. I hope that you can make sure that it gets to the right department.
I am 55 years old male who is and always has been full of scepticism. I don’t believe in God, ghosts, aliens from space, life after death or even The Loch Ness Monster. But I do believe in ball lightning.
I was a boy of about 10 or 11. Two of my mates and I had been scrumping fruit in an orchard a little ways from home. Whilst we were going about our business of stuffing ourselves and our tucked-in-trouser jumpers with apples and pears etc., the sky blackened suddenly. Huge spots of rain started to fall. We decided that enough was enough and that we would make a dash for the safety of our estate which lay at the other side of the railway.
We raced to the embankment - spilling some of our ill gotten gains as we went - and I was the first up it and on to the line. The rain had changed to hail and it lashed into my face as I ran along the sleepers between the rails. I had only gone a yard or two when, through half closed stinging eyes, I saw a hockey sized ball of light winging it’s way from the sky up in front of me leaving a curving bright trace in it’s wake. (In retrospect I put that down to latent imaging) The ball seemed to change direction slightly and headed straight towards me at speed.
At the last moment, and only about four yards ahead of me, it dipped onto the rail and shot passed me with a sort of sssszssssszsssszsssz sound. I turned to follow it’s path and I watched wide eyed as it bounced along the rail. It jumped from the one rail to the other once and disappeared around a bend in the track still bounding. A second or so later I saw a flash and heard above the storm a bang like a rifle shot from that direction. I was shit scared, (though the apples and pears I had consumed may have had something to do with that) and quickly got down the embankment on the other side and made for the shelter of the houses.
We were all gasping for breath as we hurried into a mates house. "Did you see that?" I asked excitedly. "See what?" came the reply. Neither of the other two had seen what I had seen.
It dawned on me years later that they would not have seen it from where they were on the embankment, for they were a distance behind me and below eye level of the track. What I have been describing about the fire-ball, probably took just two or three seconds. Four at the outside in reality, from start to finish.
They ribbed me a little about it for years after, until even I started to doubt what I had seen. What’s worse, I couldn’t bring myself to tell any adults at the time because of the feared consequences of scrumping and being on the rail line.
Please. I will take any amount of questioning about the incident and would gladly undergo a lie detector test if it would help.
Yours faithfully (and sincerely).
Anthony W. Allsop.
Writers note: Nothing came of it.
National Meteorology Society, LONDON.
Dear Sirs,
A recent "Equinox" program on channel 4 TV on the mysteries of ball lightning has inspired me to write about an experience that I have lived with for 40 odd years. I hope that you can make sure that it gets to the right department.
I am 55 years old male who is and always has been full of scepticism. I don’t believe in God, ghosts, aliens from space, life after death or even The Loch Ness Monster. But I do believe in ball lightning.
I was a boy of about 10 or 11. Two of my mates and I had been scrumping fruit in an orchard a little ways from home. Whilst we were going about our business of stuffing ourselves and our tucked-in-trouser jumpers with apples and pears etc., the sky blackened suddenly. Huge spots of rain started to fall. We decided that enough was enough and that we would make a dash for the safety of our estate which lay at the other side of the railway.
We raced to the embankment - spilling some of our ill gotten gains as we went - and I was the first up it and on to the line. The rain had changed to hail and it lashed into my face as I ran along the sleepers between the rails. I had only gone a yard or two when, through half closed stinging eyes, I saw a hockey sized ball of light winging it’s way from the sky up in front of me leaving a curving bright trace in it’s wake. (In retrospect I put that down to latent imaging) The ball seemed to change direction slightly and headed straight towards me at speed.
At the last moment, and only about four yards ahead of me, it dipped onto the rail and shot passed me with a sort of sssszssssszsssszsssz sound. I turned to follow it’s path and I watched wide eyed as it bounced along the rail. It jumped from the one rail to the other once and disappeared around a bend in the track still bounding. A second or so later I saw a flash and heard above the storm a bang like a rifle shot from that direction. I was shit scared, (though the apples and pears I had consumed may have had something to do with that) and quickly got down the embankment on the other side and made for the shelter of the houses.
We were all gasping for breath as we hurried into a mates house. "Did you see that?" I asked excitedly. "See what?" came the reply. Neither of the other two had seen what I had seen.
It dawned on me years later that they would not have seen it from where they were on the embankment, for they were a distance behind me and below eye level of the track. What I have been describing about the fire-ball, probably took just two or three seconds. Four at the outside in reality, from start to finish.
They ribbed me a little about it for years after, until even I started to doubt what I had seen. What’s worse, I couldn’t bring myself to tell any adults at the time because of the feared consequences of scrumping and being on the rail line.
Please. I will take any amount of questioning about the incident and would gladly undergo a lie detector test if it would help.
Yours faithfully (and sincerely).
Anthony W. Allsop.
Writers note: Nothing came of it.
Saturday 5 April 2008
DIY Champion of Great Britain.
This blog owes itself to Danny, one of my MySpace buddies. Great blogging too, Danny. I started to write a comment on his blog about bodging and I got carried away with it so decided that it would make a decent contribution to the world of bodging.
The Great Britain British Bodger Competition.
They could run an annual competition to find the best/worst bodger in the UK.
My contribution to bodging concerned my fitting of a new bathroom carpet (we’ve long since ceased using carpet in the bathroom, I think it coincided with my aim not being so reliable).
Anyway, I had to fit this new carpet around a peculiar array of pedestal, toilet pan and peculiar angles that the skirting-board offered, but :: PING! :: I had an idea.
I cleared a flat spot on the back yard and laid out the new carpet, pile uppermost.
I then fetched the old carpet from the bathroom and laid it atop the new pile uppermost.
I got a new piece of white chalk and set out drawing a line on the new carpet using the old one as the template. Can you see anything wrong yet? No!? No, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this procedure, I can assure you that it will and does work.
Unless! Unless you discover that the pile on the new carpet won’t take CHALK! So :: PING! :: I have another brainwave.
I take off the old carpet from off the new.
I turn over the new carpet and have the chalk-able backing uppermost.
I lay the old carpet back atop the new and I chalk around it. Perfect! I can now get my new Stanley Knife to do its work. I didn’t cut myself once - no blood and gore - and the cutting of the new carpet to the size and shape of the old template was a complete success. Almost!I dumped the old carpet in the bin and carried the new upstairs to lay it in the bathroom. It fitted perfectly.
It fitted perfectly - UPSIDE BLOODY DOWN!!!
Doh!
The Great Britain British Bodger Competition.
They could run an annual competition to find the best/worst bodger in the UK.
My contribution to bodging concerned my fitting of a new bathroom carpet (we’ve long since ceased using carpet in the bathroom, I think it coincided with my aim not being so reliable).
Anyway, I had to fit this new carpet around a peculiar array of pedestal, toilet pan and peculiar angles that the skirting-board offered, but :: PING! :: I had an idea.
I cleared a flat spot on the back yard and laid out the new carpet, pile uppermost.
I then fetched the old carpet from the bathroom and laid it atop the new pile uppermost.
I got a new piece of white chalk and set out drawing a line on the new carpet using the old one as the template. Can you see anything wrong yet? No!? No, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this procedure, I can assure you that it will and does work.
Unless! Unless you discover that the pile on the new carpet won’t take CHALK! So :: PING! :: I have another brainwave.
I take off the old carpet from off the new.
I turn over the new carpet and have the chalk-able backing uppermost.
I lay the old carpet back atop the new and I chalk around it. Perfect! I can now get my new Stanley Knife to do its work. I didn’t cut myself once - no blood and gore - and the cutting of the new carpet to the size and shape of the old template was a complete success. Almost!I dumped the old carpet in the bin and carried the new upstairs to lay it in the bathroom. It fitted perfectly.
It fitted perfectly - UPSIDE BLOODY DOWN!!!
Doh!
Friday 4 April 2008
You were lucky.
The Playground.
I just felt inspired to write this having read a blog written by a friend. She’d been going on about how she’d suffered her parent’s tongues as a child when they bemoaned what THEY didn’t have when growing up that SHE had now and that she should feel herself lucky. And now SHE finds herself, at thirty, repeating the same sort of diatribe to her children. So I wrote:
"Atari 2600! TVs with 5 channels!! Telephones!!! You were lucky."
"Charles Babbage was still building the first computer, made of wood and iron it had pulleys, valves and was the size of our house."
"TVs were built like shacks with a screen as big a postcard and had the one flickering channel which was in grey and grey and it was on air for about two hours a day."
"Telephones were a real luxury item and if you had one (which we didn’t) you kept it for emergency use only. The neighbours soon found out and those with phones became unofficial call boxes for the neighbourhood, yadda, yadda, yadda."
"You WERE lucky!!" End of comment.
I was born just after the outbreak of hostilities of WW2 and things were austere to say the least.
I would have been about five just after the war ended and times were harsh. We in UK were still short of food and clothing and if one went to a neighbour to borrow a cup of sugar it wasn’t always to be sociable. Even then, it would oft times only be half filled or maybe none forthcoming at all.
I could go on about the deprivations but I won’t. Because we were still happy with our little lot. We had no idea what luxury was. Televisions were as rare as hens teeth. Radios only worked sporadically and obviously there were no electronic games or toys. But we still were happy, I think.
My dad used to read to us or tell us stories from his memory. Most of these stories were of the spooky and ghostly kind. His favorites were those from the pens of Edgar Allan Poe and W.W. Jacobs so his telling could really make our hair stand on end, our young flesh creep and our fresh minds go into spasm. But our minds benefited from this stimulation, even and although I found sleep hard to come by in a freezing cold and dark bedroom under a heap of ex army great-coats.
We also played outside more, interacting with neighbours and their kids. Some of my fonder memories are of events that happened in our street. Playing football in the street with the proverbial jackets for goalposts, or cricket with the wickets drawn in chalk on someones wall.
There was always the argument over whether you had been bowled out but evidence of chalk on the ball was always the clincher. We didn’t require slow-mo TV replays. A six (runs) if you could hit the ball past the lamp post and you were out if it landed in somebodys’ garden.Sure, we used to fight over silly things, but that was what growing up was about.
It’s a pity that our streets and alleys have been commandeered by the motorcar. Where we had one car on our street, that same street now has about three hundred parked bumper to bumper (fender to fender). How could any kid now treat the street as a playground.Kids of today?
They really are UNLUCKY!
I just felt inspired to write this having read a blog written by a friend. She’d been going on about how she’d suffered her parent’s tongues as a child when they bemoaned what THEY didn’t have when growing up that SHE had now and that she should feel herself lucky. And now SHE finds herself, at thirty, repeating the same sort of diatribe to her children. So I wrote:
"Atari 2600! TVs with 5 channels!! Telephones!!! You were lucky."
"Charles Babbage was still building the first computer, made of wood and iron it had pulleys, valves and was the size of our house."
"TVs were built like shacks with a screen as big a postcard and had the one flickering channel which was in grey and grey and it was on air for about two hours a day."
"Telephones were a real luxury item and if you had one (which we didn’t) you kept it for emergency use only. The neighbours soon found out and those with phones became unofficial call boxes for the neighbourhood, yadda, yadda, yadda."
"You WERE lucky!!" End of comment.
I was born just after the outbreak of hostilities of WW2 and things were austere to say the least.
I would have been about five just after the war ended and times were harsh. We in UK were still short of food and clothing and if one went to a neighbour to borrow a cup of sugar it wasn’t always to be sociable. Even then, it would oft times only be half filled or maybe none forthcoming at all.
I could go on about the deprivations but I won’t. Because we were still happy with our little lot. We had no idea what luxury was. Televisions were as rare as hens teeth. Radios only worked sporadically and obviously there were no electronic games or toys. But we still were happy, I think.
My dad used to read to us or tell us stories from his memory. Most of these stories were of the spooky and ghostly kind. His favorites were those from the pens of Edgar Allan Poe and W.W. Jacobs so his telling could really make our hair stand on end, our young flesh creep and our fresh minds go into spasm. But our minds benefited from this stimulation, even and although I found sleep hard to come by in a freezing cold and dark bedroom under a heap of ex army great-coats.
We also played outside more, interacting with neighbours and their kids. Some of my fonder memories are of events that happened in our street. Playing football in the street with the proverbial jackets for goalposts, or cricket with the wickets drawn in chalk on someones wall.
There was always the argument over whether you had been bowled out but evidence of chalk on the ball was always the clincher. We didn’t require slow-mo TV replays. A six (runs) if you could hit the ball past the lamp post and you were out if it landed in somebodys’ garden.Sure, we used to fight over silly things, but that was what growing up was about.
It’s a pity that our streets and alleys have been commandeered by the motorcar. Where we had one car on our street, that same street now has about three hundred parked bumper to bumper (fender to fender). How could any kid now treat the street as a playground.Kids of today?
They really are UNLUCKY!
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About Me
- White Charcoal
- Mansfield, United Kingdom
- I am over 79. Up to a couple of years ago I'd have described myself as fit and decisive. Now I'm not so sure. I am into DIY. If my wife asks me to do something I say; "Do It Yourself".....Click on my Older Posts for more reading. Or try: http://www.chrisbeach.co.uk/viewQuotes.php
