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.