Pack your bags...

One of the most common problems that we have while moving your worldly goods around is how they are packed. Often, these items are shipped from the other side of the world; then sailed across the oceans for your convenience (assuming all is calm at sea). They are then stored in a warehouse until someone decides to send them out to a shop or a distribution van; where they get crammed in with lots of other items along the way. I spent ten minutes this morning cursing a tool manufacturer who had decided to place their goods on display in the most awkward manner in prominent packaging. Why does the box have to be so narrow? Honestly, if you just put one box back to back to the other; it would have made it a lot easier than having two long plastic case monstrosities that fell out of the box as soon as it was tilted at a different angle and refused to slide back in again. Eventually I had to take all the packaging cardboard out and tape the box shut. So the happy customer will instantly see that someone's already opened it and will demand another one to remove any doubt of parts being missing. Pack your boxes properly please people!

Crawling up the Ale Trail Charts

Yesterday an old friend and I decided to go on a bit of an ale trail. We did a similar thing last year where we traveled to an area that we don’t normally visit and check out the local pubs. We both take part in the Cask Marque trail; where you scan a certificate in the pub to record your visits and accumulate prizes. We started in Birmingham at a Wetherspoons while discussing which pubs to visit. The problem we had was that we both had different pubs that we’d visited before; which would be a bit of a nuisance as only one of us would be collecting scans at each visit. Eventually, we agreed that we both pass through Birmingham at different times doing different things and could sort these pub visits out in our own time. So in the end we opted to board a bus to Harborne, which is an area that we don’t normally visit but has a crawl of seven pubs that we could add to our collection. The best bit is that I’ve just discovered their Hall of Fame; where I currently sit 396^th out of over 1,200 competitors and I’m to climb the chart after yesterday’s adventure when they next update the website. 

A bite at Bitcoin.

Walter Issacson, the CEO of Aspen Institute, believes that the big thing of 2015 will be the introduction of digital currency such as bitcoin. Okay, so bitcoin may be securer and encrypted; but at the end of the day it’s just another currency. And for the consumer, you don’t know if the goods that you’re buying are coming from the fat sweaty bloke next door or a towel-headed chap in the Middle East with an AK-47. Most people like to know where our consumer goods are coming from; who we’re supporting and the ethics of their company. All of this is coming from a foundation which is dedicated to leadership and reflection of the ideals of a good society. And if the definition of a good society is that we should all stay at home hiding behind our computer keyboards wondering if the dream catcher we’ve just ordered is going to help fund international terrorism; then it is a very sour society indeed.

Escape from Peterborough

I've just had a narrow escape from Peterborough. I'm not even certain as to where on the planet it is. I have a. Stud idea of where it is on the map; but whether it's in the East Midlands or East Anglia I couldn't tell you. Anyway, the pub I was in was brilliant. The beer was great. The food was just right for a lunchtime meal. And the bar staff just about scrapped a pass (which is difficult I know). It all started when my other party members made their various excuses and left me to my own devising. I had an hour to kill before my departing train. The first pub I visited was screening people who were entering because of a football match with Doncaster Rovers the day before; which still  had some side effects; apparently they thought that some local fans were still in the area. Strangely enough; I was let in without question without having to utter a word or action; despite a large group before me having to present ID beforehand. Perhaps I didn't look northern enough; after all to them I was technically a Westerner. However; with the possibility of another pub calling before my train; I decided to visit a more local venue to try the Locale beers. At the Ostrich;  the range was very pleasing; but the  clientele was not. No sooner than I had been served; I was approached by a Scotsman.  Now I usually have no quarrel with the Scots other than trying to understand them; and themselves being a loud folk. Finding one in this part of the country was particularly surprising; but after experiencing them before in England at this time of year; I naturally assumed it was part of the annual Scottish migration; where they head south to stay warm and visit what other relatives they have in this fair isle. This particular fellow was born in Ayrshire; but lived in Lancashire. He then tells me he's been homeless for a while. This is of little comfort to a fellow traveller; fortunately he finished his own drink and ordered and paid for another before finishing mine. So that was the perfect opportunity for me to escape without obligation; and after wishing him a happy Hogmanay; stepped out into the street. After five minutes I'm accosted with an appeal for money to get someone to Wellingborough; but; not being local I haven't  a clue as to where this is or even if it exists. I still have no notion of what Peterborough stands for; but after being left on my own I can tell you it's not a good place to be alone.

Famous Fred

 More seasonal tosh I'm afraid. One early Saturday morning I put the telly on for something to watch while munching on my morning Shreddies. In line with the holiday season; instead of the usual American comedy repeats; there was an animation entitled Famous Fred. Right from the start; I could see that it was a waste of time. Every single character was obsessively obese; from the fat father right down to the family pet  guniea pig. The two siblings had a major compulsive attention disorder and kept interrupting the plot line; which wasn't overly developed at all. Apparently Famous Fred was an overnight pop star who sang in back gardens and alleyways; all for the amusement of his feline fans; who had come to the twin's back garden to mourn his death (diabetes). There seemed to be no morale for this story other than children should be fat and annoying. The only recognisable celebrity featured in this misadventure was Lenny Henry who voiced the guniea pig (albeit with a northern accent). Hopefully it won't make any prime time viewing spots in the near future.

The Boy Who Wore A Dress

 On Boxing Day I was trying to decide what to do with myself and, while I should have really been working and getting things up to date; I decided to stay within the holiday spirit and watch a bit of telly. From the onset; the title just sounds wrong; and the fact that it's been made into a children's prime time viewing slot just makes it wronger still; and I was right. But I did give it a chance. It's by David Walliams; who; besides being gay and dressing up in women's clothing; has also published a series of children's books. With a prime show such as this; I would expect some sort of morale to the story; especially as it was devised by a leading celebrity author. But no. Instead it was about an attention seeking boy who decided to delve into transvestism simply because his mother had ran away from home. I'm not a stickler for the rules; in fact I'm often far from it. But to call in a far-fetched plot to say it's OK to parade in a dress isn't much out of the question of becoming a transvestite. Which, to be honest; isn't a great role models to shout out to the kids during prime time viewing.

Did Santa Bring You Everything You Asked For?

In most cases, I suspect the answer is no. Each year before Christmas, I am always asked to write a Christmas Wish list. Thankfully I no longer have to write it in the style of a letter to Santa. And every year; when I receive a request to produce such a list; I always reply, ‘Whatever happened to that list you made me write for my birthday?’ Surely there are still some items on that. And these are fairly simple materialistic items; I’m not wishing for a sports car or world peace here (which, by the way, always seems to be out of stock). But it’s annoying things like these that make you think that actually, you have no interest in my goals and pursuits and is even quite tactless of you to ask me to create this list in order to fulfil a holiday consumer tax that falls upon us every year. And now that the holiday moment is over, the list is gone; my goals are gone and I can’t even remember what to buy with those pesky vouchers.

Anyway, A Very Merry Christmas to You.

Happy Pistmas

It’s been a long standing tradition with friends that on Christmas Eve we meet up for drinks and stay up all night to drink in Christmas Day. As soon as it becomes midnight we’re tearing off the paper wrapped gifts that we so neatly executed only hours before. Yet this year, we all had other priorities. The novelty of the event had worn off. Which was strange as I had no other commitments the following day other than to roll out of bed with a hangover into a pile of presents; then lounge around until the pub opened for pre-Christmas dinner drinks. One friend was just ill; one was just tired and the other was committed to attend them as they were sharing a taxi back home. This prompted me to dispatch my final friend as well owing to the fact that he had a friend who was to collect him and would appreciate an early night. Next year we need to make it more of an occasion, and for that to happen we really need to make something happen to truly celebrate the year. Anyway, Happy Christmas.

Shouldn't have said that...

I have a habit of saying the wrong thing, even if I’m only telling the truth. It sometimes makes me appear a bit tactless. Yesterday I was tasked with taking some presents over to my Uncle’s house; something that my brother had forgotten to do. It was a fairly dark evening but early, and I was on my way home from work after a twelve hour shift; and after finding the house and finding the best place to park I was begging that they wouldn't be in. But unfortunately they were; so instead of leaving the presents on the doorstep I was obliged to ring the bell and got invited in. So I chatted for a bit about work; asked how my cousins were and discussed how we were each spending Christmas. And then came the lull. We tried to fill it with football news as it was on the telly at the time but I’m not a big football fan, so that didn't last very long. So, having done the deed I pleaded my long work shift and announced my plans to depart. Then right at the doorstep I mentioned that my brother was supposed to do this task but forgot, so he had my pleasure instead. Of course my uncle was very polite and just wished me a happy Christmas; but anyone who properly listened to this conversation would now realise my opinions on the task; but I only realised what was said when I returned to the car with a guilty conscience. However, if I had been offered a cup of tea, it might have been a whole different story…

Tickets Please...

One of the most strangest things that I've found while travelling on rural train journeys is the humble policy of the ticket. You arrive at the station ten minutes before the train is due only to find that the ticket office is closed. You queue to use one of the self-service machines; only to find that the group in front of you aren't aware of the quantity option and have to wait while they process four separate transactions. You then have to decide whether there's time to get your ticket or jump on the train and complain about the self-service machines; to which they just indifferent sell you a ticket anyway; and that's if they can be bothered to turn up at all. But if you're not at the starting station then you can just literally just turn up at any station at all; and as long as you look embedded into your seat you can simply walk past the exit gate without anyone doubting you as to not paying the fare at all.

That Dumb Waiter

I've just been reading about the restoration of a pub in Essex. While I applaud their efforts to restore the pub; (What's Brewing; Jan 2015); I was also curious to read of their installation of 'a dumb waiter'. Why would such a pub choose to host a waiter similar to the capabilities of Manuel from Faulty Towers? Did the owners of the pub subscribe to an amateur dramatics society? After I goggled the term it turns  out that a dumb waiter is a form of elevator used for food; but why the writer assumes that the common reader is aware of this is unknown. Perhaps I should visit the pub to inspect the dumb waiter; expecting him to throw a plateful of drinks on my lap or bring me cabbage cheese instead of cauliflower. The rest of the article relates to the pub's features; but I shall now visit expecting a moustached Spaniard playing a guitar singing Kum by Ah in between burning down the kitchen.

Station Announcement...

I sometimes wonder about the common sense of train announcements. Sure; mistakes happen owing to human error and the like. But when you're waiting for a train that has been delayed; it would be great if at least they could display where it is going to when it arrives. I nearly got caught out. Sometimes the arrival boards are so up to date that they don't take into account that the train has been delayed and assumes that it has already departed. Other boards don't say anything at all other than this display is not working properly; which is another way of saying we have no idea if a train is due to turn up at all. And then there are the announcements. When they announce that the train is approaching; they mean that the train has just left the previous station.  When they announce that the train is here; you need to start looking for the blind folk who have started to poke their cane about to try and find the non-existent train. And when they announce a platform alteration; you need to make sure you have your best running shoes on in order to catch that train.

Choo Choo Choo

Travelling on the train often holds a great sense of mystery. Sure, it holds a great value to the economy in the fact that it brings together as many people as possible to herd them all to one destination. But many train stations are way out of town compared to their desired location. Some may see it as a cheap or convenient form or transportation; personally I see that only when it is quiet. Who wants to be rammed on a platform awaiting a huge queue for the door in order to obtain that precious seat? Surely if more platforms were built; we could be a bit more civilised about this? On one side we exit the train, the when these doors close the opposite doors open which allow people to board the train. It may sound longer; but in practice the boarding time is probably the same. In fact, the same system is already in operation on theme park roller coasters.

The Visitor

It’s absolutely fantastic to introduce someone you know to a city that they know very little about to somewhere that you know very well. It just goes to show that the day to day things that you see for granted are instantly admired when they are in awe of your local facilities. I recently showed a friend around the Birmingham German Market and; while I know that a lot of the stalls get repetitive over time and are quite overpriced; my friend’s appreciation of it made it all the more enjoyable as it was significantly larger than the one in his home town. We both enjoyed the free samples of Stollen and stocked up for our friends and families. We were both in awe of the street performers and their props. We both took the opportunity to try something new and visit places that we wouldn’t normally discover off the beaten track. So hosting a visitor is a worthwhile experience.

Catch-up for a catch-up

I’ve had an old college friend come to visit me today for a catch-up. It’s been a long day as I still had a work shift to complete and I was asked to start earlier than usual to account for the Christmas period. We still have an imminent health and safety inspection which I need to prepare for as I won’t be available for the day of the visit. So I then have to change the daily rota plan to get this complete; all the while the staff are complaining because it means that they can’t stand around while it’s quiet. And while I’m on the floor preparing and filing the paperwork; in walks our area manager who naturally wants to know what is going on. After yet more overtime and trying to understand my admin co-ordinator’s filing system; I give up and explain to her what has been done. Then I give up on everything and head out the door.

I'm doing it my way

Once again, the day job is getting in the way of things. As we reach our busiest season, my request for help has been completely ignored. Right in the middle is a health and safety inspection which I have to prepare the paperwork for. I have a team of people who are determined to do things their way while not following guidelines, including my manager; who admits that my role is not what he expected either. We have all been put under a secret agenda in a cost-cutting exercise in order to make cheaper deliveries within the company. I’m fed up of people going behind my back and not sharing information which should be included as part of a team. I seriously need to find time to press on. And in the meantime; I’m not prepared to put any extra effort in. I’m just going to turn up for the hours and pay check then disappear.

Christmas Party Chaos

For some strange reason, it was all down to me to organise our Christmas party. The guy who’s hardly in the workplace; doesn’t get introduced to any new colleagues or invited out to any staff socials. It was hard enough to try and work out who was going, who was paying and to get the money off everyone on time. Then add a twist by taking along a group of immature people who’ve never experienced foreign cuisine before and an unsympathetic hostess who doesn’t recognise that people want to relax and have a good time. It’s then a task to keep everyone happy and calm while waiting for their food and explaining what’s going on; while also trying to determine why the plan has changed. For some reason people get very paranoid  when they take insults, and we got a stern telling-off for extinguishing candles. I won’t be organising another one for this crowd.

Rambling about RambAles

Just lately I’ve been writing offline on another project, and it’s nearly complete. Within the beer club that I volunteer for, I also run a series of pub walks where we find a group of rural pubs and walk round them all using a series of country footpaths. It’s a ramble and we drink ale; so we call it… RambAle! The content wasn’t particularly creative to write as most of it was just giving clear and concise directions; it was more of a labour process. Over the next few weeks I’m going to try and add some creative content to make it interesting; though I don’t really want to give the reader a history lesson and distract them from the purpose of the article. I’m in the process of uploading the content, and you can check it out at www.rbcamra.org.uk. I still need to write a longer article for general publication to a wider audience; this may be published in a national magazine.