Wednesday, December 06, 2006

An Autumn Walk

From high above in the broken sky
I hear the crow’s harsh guttural cry
Does he call to me, far below?
Or to someone I do not know?
His voice, raucous and coarse, carries on the cold air
I turn my head, looking here and there
But the caller I cannot see
Even if he were calling to me.
What does he say, with his throaty cry?
What does he say and why?
Is it to warn of cold winter looming?
Is it to warn of fleet footed time passing?
Is it to warn of the day and the years growing ever short?
Of life and work becoming ever more fraught?
That we will all soon pass away?
And that our struggles and woes will, with us fade one day?

And the golden and red leaves whisper in the wind.
And the sun plays hide and seek in the clouds
And the morning, idly, turns into the afternoon

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Spending Time

We spend our time;
Heedlessly,
Recklessly,
Wantonly
And extravagantly
Not until we have spent nearly all of it.
Nearly last every precious drop.
Do we know its true worth.


We spend our time as if we have endless credit
But when we finally receive the bill of want we have spent,
Then we see
That it is all on trivia and fripperies

Not Going Well

It may not seem, or possible it does, that I am a wage slave, grinded down every day by hard labour at the coal face of corporate life.

Sadly I am.

It gobbles up time, like a starving dog with a plate of prime steak, leaving me we scant seconds "to stand and stare" let alone attend to minor things like shopping and cooking.

I use to work around 60 hours a week (ish). Not counting the time spent in traffic jams (note to town planners, how to get people out of cars. Offer an alternative that works. Why would I want to spend more money to sit in the same traffic jam in a dirty cold bus? Why build vast housing estates miles from places of work? And not near any shops. Town lack of planning really.)

Now it is around 40 hours. I found that doing my job, doing it poorly, or well makes no real difference. As long as do not actual defraud the company or physically assault someone, then I have a job.

Sadly though, work is what we are. It defines us, gives our lives structure and purpose. Yes you can have a wild social life and great friends and family, but first question you get asked on meeting someone "what do you do?". If your answer requires an explanation you have, what I call, a pretend job.

If you like me, you are one of those middle management clones, who shuffle paper and now electronic mail from one place to the other, taking up air, space, money and time and actually doing nothing remotely helpful in the main. Or, possibly, doing a job that if the company in question had employed half decent management would not need doing. Like HR. They use to do the admin for employment - now they do the interviews, the discipline the training. Surely a boss should know who they need to do what? If they are any good? Similarly Quality Management. They write processes on how to do things then check to see if people follow them. So why doesn’t the boss decide how to do things and then see that his staff do it?

Pretend Jobs. Not real, like a Doctor or a Farmer, or a Builder. We make nothing. We create nothing, we only exist because the leaders are so colossally stupid, or too busy going on jollies to see Man U play or racing at Ascot.

And we have to spend hours and hours in air conditioned glass houses, in places like Slough industrial estate, pretending what we do matters.

As you can see the play isn't going well...

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Sorry someone has asked me to write a play (well they had a idea they thought somebody should write a play about and said I'd have a go) and this is taking up my creative juices.

That and all those boring things like work and such like, taking my time up.

Normal service resumed shortly - when I have determined what normal actually is.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Literally Mindedness

On a grave stone “Not Resting but Sleeping.”

Cannot think why, if this was really the case, why they all objected so much to my opening up the tomb to get them out. I mean who wants to sleep in a tomb? – and they had been there since 1892, so surely time to get up and about a bit?

“Glad to be of Service”

Highly unlikely- more likely you are fawning to get a tip.

“Have a Nice day”

Surely that is my prerogative if I do or do not have a nice day?

“Alright?” or “how are you?”

As you don’t really care or want to know why ask? Please, don’t bother. Just get on and ask what you wanted to ask which will probably involve me parting with money/time/both for no discernable benefit to myself.

“Can you help me?”

I don’t know – what do you need? Sorry, general people in distress or need I will help if I can but saying “can you help me?” and waiting for me to say yes or no is very loaded. No makes me feel like a heel and you feel low, even if I am in a hurry, late etc. If I say yes and then you ask the way to somewhere which I invariable do not know it has wasted all our time. Why not say “Can you help me? I need….” Other wise I am trying to guess what you need want and my imagination is over active and I worry it may be that you need a kidney or £10.50 to get Shepton Mallet tonight because your brother’s dog sick or you want just one more person to join your branch of the Holy Saint Bartholomew New Refrom Church to get your own pew cushion. Help me out here.


“Eyes bigger than your stomach”

Making personal remarks about someone’s appearance is meant to put them off eating? And if this was really the case they should eat more as they would be very thin.

“Extreme….”

Usually isn’t extreme.
Extreme makeover is actual remodelling – it is not a makeover and a make over is a makeover. Knocking walls is not a makeover that is rebuilding. And it is not extreme – it is called building a house.
Extreme Sports. Are not sports, as there is little in the way of competition as no one else is stupid enough to carry out the highly dangerous activity.
The exception is of course Extreme housework. Doing the iron in three foot of ragging torrent of water, is an extreme way of getting out of doing it on a regular basis.

“It will just take five minutes”

It will never just take five minutes. Face it will take ten, if not fifteen. And I will get hot, sweaty and probably get some rip/stain on my clothing doing it. It is a lie.

“Can I have a word?”

No, but you can have a brief chat. This is not the Archers, but real life. Try and use real sentences please.

“I was wondering…”

Means it is already booked and done and I will have to do it, but now having done this, you feel guilty about not consulting so you will ask me about it. If you disagree will cause massive argument/stress period. This is a typical boss/girlfriend trick. Agree for you to do something with out you knowing about it.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

picture






Once upon a time,
summer would last forever.
Once upon a time,
the sky was bluer, the grass was greener.
Once upon a time,
I had a place, I knew where I stood.
Once upon a time,
things were going to get better.
Once upon a time,
I had time.
Once upon a time.
Once upon a time.






on leaving Lilac Cottage 15/7/01
The Men's Toilet

Okay not a pleasant subject – that is rather the point. Why is it that people – especially people who are supposedly maintaining public facilities think that it is acceptable if men’s toilets are not cleaned?

I mean it is not like it is any particular toilet. From two-bit cafes to gleaming corporate headquarters they are always a mess. Wet floors, multiply non-functioning soap dispensers, no paper towels, toilet bowls last cleaned in 1987, urinals full of chewing gum, the list is endless. Is it because they assume men like things messy? Or is it because men don’t complain?

Decor

Decor nonwithstand, there is ingrain dirt. Nobody, ever, cleans men’s toilets properly. Usually decor is white or white and brown tiles, with chrome taps.

Occasionally, you will come across the “trendy” bathrooms, which have frosted glass doors to cubicles and polished steel trays full of pebbles as sinks. They may also go all continental and have holes in the floor to crap in. Urinals will be steel plates on the wall with a grilled over gutter under your feet so you can see what you’ve passed flowing beneath you. This will be filthy too, but with the added disadvantage of being so trendy as to be unusable.

Urinals

Usual there is an unidentified puddle beneath them, that looks just shallow enough that you can stand in it safely but in fact is just deep enough to seep into your shoes. You try and convince yourself that it is water from the flush pipe, but it probably isn’t. Somebody usual has urinated all over the floor and wall or the urinal is blocked by accumulated chewing gum and it overflows – often just at the point of no return when you are urinating, forcing you to jump back, urinating all over the floor.

See above for the the trendy places.

Toilet Bowls

Somebody has always been there first and made a mess of it. Even if you enter with the cleaner coming out, it is beyond hope.
Cigarette burns in plastic seats seem the favourite. And 50% of the time it is obviously somebody who has been on a week-long curry n’ real ale festival was in there ten minutes ago. Often they have forgotten to flush.

Toilet Paper

Check before you start, as it will not be out, but will have only two and a half sheets length left of single ply of the cheap stuff. That or it is reams of the tracing paper you thought only schools used, that is more likely to cut than to wipe.
You may try and get some paper towels if the toilet paper has run out.

Paper towels

There will be a dispenser. It will be bust, or nobody can be bothered to load it, so the paper towel or roll is left on top of it. Hence, the towels are scattered all over the place, and those that are not are sodden from people with wet hands trying to pick them up.

Taps and Sinks

The sinks are always small and have no plug. There will be two taps – mixers are for sissies. So you have a choice: if there is any hot water at all, scold your hand off or getting it so cold that you spend hours afterwards trying to get feeling back in it.
You may find a separate hot water heater with a third tap, for hot water, this will not work at all, or deliver a tiny dribble of water that will be icy, just until your about to give up, then will go blister hot for just long enough to burn you.

Soap

If there is any at all it will of an odd colour originally but is now ingrain with dirt and grim as to be mainly black. There may be dispensers on the walls, but usually they will be empty, or contain some pink stuff that is supposedly soap but is stuff that just sticks to your hands and does not come off. If you dry your hands with the paper towels, bits of it will stick to hands for hours.
Occasionally there will be pump action soap dispensers. When you try and work them, they will always not work for two pumps, then will suddenly spurt out at an odd angle all over your arm. Again this stuff will not come off.

Hand Dryers

These are automatic hand chapping devices. To get them to work properly will always require twice as much time as it would take to just shake them repeatedly outside the window. The timer on button press ones will require you to press the button twice, wetting your hands all over hand on the wet button. Sensor ones, will need you to hold your hands so close to the nozzle without moving, that one small part of your hand will burn and the rest remain wet.

Monday, August 14, 2006

The Little Book of Just About Everything Else

Full of the knowledge and wisdom of the world - such as:
What you should have listen to your mother saying, but didn't
Instructions that make no sense
Really glib advice
Criticisms that work for anyone.
"You want to have you cake and eat it..." Well obviously. You would not wish to eat someone else's cake now, would you? That would be theft.