On Getting Older, Getting
Wiser, Getting Grumpier...
Bits n
pieces of stuff that occur during a day in no order. Sometimes stuff will be
funny, humorous or dripping with sarcastic irony. Sometimes it will be a rant
or a whinge. Whatever.
Wearing buff as a head scarf.
Monday, 2 July 2012
When I
bought my iphone, I thought about the 30-year business I ran with 1800
employees, all without a mobile phone that plays music, takes videos, pictures
and communicates with Facebook and Twitter. I signed up under duress for
Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grand kids and 2
great grand kids could communicate with me in the modern way. I figured I could
handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space.
That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl,
Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that
sends every message to my cell phone and every other program within the texting
World. My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of
everything except the bowel movements of my entire next generation. I am not
ready to live like this. I now keep my iphone in the garage in my golf bag.
The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get
lost every now and then going over to the supermarket or library. I keep that
in a box under my tool bench with the Blue tooth [it's red] phone I am supposed
to use when I drive. I used it once when I was standing in line at Coles
talking to my wife and everyone within 50 mtrs was glaring at me. I had taken
out my hearing aid to use it, and I was talking little loud! I mean the
GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside that gadget was
the most annoying, rudest person I had run into in a long time. Every 10
minutes, she would sarcastically say, "Re-calc-u-lating." You would
think that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely tolerate me. She
would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn when possible.
Then if I made a right turn instead, well, it was not a good relationship..
When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the name
of the cross roads and while she is starting to develop the same tone as Gypsy,
the GPS lady, at least she loves me. To be perfectly frank, I am still
trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them
for 4 years, but I still haven't figured out how I can lose three phones all at
once and have to run around digging under chair cushions and checking bathrooms
and the dirty laundry baskets when the phone rings. The world is just
getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the
supermarkets. You would think they could make a decision themselves, but this
sudden "Paper or Plastic?" every time I check out just leaves me
confused. I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to avoid looking stupid,
but I never remember to take them with me. Now when they ask me,
"Paper or Plastic?" I just say, "Doesn't matter to me. I am
bi-sacksual." Then it's their turn to stare at me with a blank look. I was
recently asked if I tweet. I answered, No, but I do fart a lot."
P.S. I know some of you are not over 50. I sent it to you to allow you to
forward it to those who are. Us senior citizens don't need any more
gadgets. The TV remote and the garage door remote are about all we can handle.
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Do you
remember way back at school or a training course or anything where a teacher or
trainer or at a seminar stood at the front of a room and said "any
questions, any COMMENTS?" Aargh!!! Comments have I none. Not on this blog
and rarely on my real blog. What Do I have to do to attract a comment? Here or
on the other real blog! I just finished reading another blog by an equally
middle aged guy, well, maybe just a bit past middle aged, as me. He wrote about
memory lane and ran off on tangents and said things like " do you remember
when???" Of course I would nod my head and say to myself. Yes. Of course.
At the end of his blog came the comments section. The good guy that he is replied
to all comments. Even those that are inane or off the subject. But Here's the
rub. His comments section, just for the one post, went on and on and on as I
scrolled down the page, eventually I got tired of reading the comments
especially as they were all becoming cloyingly gushy and sickly mutual
admiration society sameness. Still I would not mind half the comments. In fact
even one comment per post would be nice. I know from the stats people are
reading both blogs, particularly the real blog where there are about 50 hits
per day. Nobody comments. Is there a comment instructor out there in blog land
who has the answers? Are there classess on blog comments where the
teacher/instructor/guru stands at the front of the room and asks, "any
comments" ANY COMMENTS?
Saturday, 16 June 2012
Have I
been a bit slack in keeping this blog updated? It seems the more time I have to
myself the less time I have to keep this blog up to date and dare I say,
entertaining?
A light hearted rant with a deeper message follows.
Do you remember in a long ago time in a far away place when you bought a new pair of shoes?
Or even more to the point, when your mother took you to a shoe store to buy your first pair of shoes or a new pair of shoes?
Remember as a teenager when with your own money you bought a pair of shoes. All by yourself. No mother to stand over you reminding you to check the shoes were not too tight and that your big toe did not push up against the front of the shoe. You did all the things you learned to ensure the shoes fit correctly. After all, you are paying for these shoes out of your own money.
Remember your first pair of leather school shoes. Remember how the shoe attendant first measured your soxed feet with a device which measured right foot at one end and the left foot at the other end of the device. Then the attendant would slide the width measurer against the side of the foot to ensure both feet had roughly the same shoe size but also the same width? Some feet are narrow and some wide the attendant would explain. In some shoe stores once the new shoes were fitted, just to be sure you stepped up on a little platform and stood with your feet in a dark slot and your mother and the attendant and you could view a live x-ray of your feet, inside the shoes. You were asked to wiggle your toes and there in the green hued x-ray viewing mask you could see your foot bones wiggling and the outline of the shoes. Then you would walk around the store about ten times just to be sure the shoes were comfortable. The shoe attendant was always helpful and knelt on the floor at your feet and do the measuring and tying the laces and checking where your big toe was and that you still had some room for growth.There would always be a shoe horn to help slide your feet into the shoes and if the did not have the correct size and width in store she would offer to get them for you.
Remember. Remember? Huh! Of course you do.
That was then.
What happens now?
The attendant, if you can find one asks have you found your shoe size in the display? Nope. Then rolls here eyes as she departs to find the right size somewhere in the storeroom. Too tight? No mention of a different width. Perhaps another brand or another style might be a better fit!. No kneeling on the floor at your feet. Of course there is no x-ray machine. They were banned many years ago as they can cause cancer. No shoe horns in the store. What is a shoe horn? In fact there are no longer any chairs to sit in. Just plastic boxes in a few places around the store. No measuring device to be seen anywhere. The attendant rushing off to serve a half dozen customers at the same time as you. No time to give you individual attention.Unless you know your size. But of course these days there is not a standard size. Oh no of course not. The US size 9 is 42.5 in the Euro size and 27cm for the rest of the world. NO UK size and definately no Australian size. Size 9 US in one brand could be size 7.5 in another brand or a size 8 in yet another brand.
Width? Huh! D, E, EE, EEE and widths above and below but not at this store and no offer to try their other stores to see if there is a model S923l in EE. These are discontinued shoes. To get that size you have to go to the next version which is a model T9232 and they are only $100 more than the pair you are trying on.
Shoes are no longer made in Australia in Australian sizes. They are made in China, in Thailand, in Indonesia, in Vietnam or even the Phillipnes!
Service is no longer provided in Australia and I am guessing the UK the US or Canada or any other what we call a "civilised" nation suffers from a lack of service.
We are customers of a mass produced product with the only goal to produce as much profit as possible with as little service as possible.
Am I unhappy about a recent shoe buying excursion?
You betcha.
Would you like to hear about when I went to buy a shirt and a pair of trousers? (All trousers came in different waist sizes but are all the same length... about 50cm of material needs to be cut off and the trousers re-cuffed)
If you think buying a pair of shoes is an unsatisfactory experience just try buying some clothing.
Is it any wonder I hate clothes and shoe shopping.
But...
Perhaps I can save that experience for another time.
A light hearted rant with a deeper message follows.
Do you remember in a long ago time in a far away place when you bought a new pair of shoes?
Or even more to the point, when your mother took you to a shoe store to buy your first pair of shoes or a new pair of shoes?
Remember as a teenager when with your own money you bought a pair of shoes. All by yourself. No mother to stand over you reminding you to check the shoes were not too tight and that your big toe did not push up against the front of the shoe. You did all the things you learned to ensure the shoes fit correctly. After all, you are paying for these shoes out of your own money.
Remember your first pair of leather school shoes. Remember how the shoe attendant first measured your soxed feet with a device which measured right foot at one end and the left foot at the other end of the device. Then the attendant would slide the width measurer against the side of the foot to ensure both feet had roughly the same shoe size but also the same width? Some feet are narrow and some wide the attendant would explain. In some shoe stores once the new shoes were fitted, just to be sure you stepped up on a little platform and stood with your feet in a dark slot and your mother and the attendant and you could view a live x-ray of your feet, inside the shoes. You were asked to wiggle your toes and there in the green hued x-ray viewing mask you could see your foot bones wiggling and the outline of the shoes. Then you would walk around the store about ten times just to be sure the shoes were comfortable. The shoe attendant was always helpful and knelt on the floor at your feet and do the measuring and tying the laces and checking where your big toe was and that you still had some room for growth.There would always be a shoe horn to help slide your feet into the shoes and if the did not have the correct size and width in store she would offer to get them for you.
Remember. Remember? Huh! Of course you do.
That was then.
What happens now?
The attendant, if you can find one asks have you found your shoe size in the display? Nope. Then rolls here eyes as she departs to find the right size somewhere in the storeroom. Too tight? No mention of a different width. Perhaps another brand or another style might be a better fit!. No kneeling on the floor at your feet. Of course there is no x-ray machine. They were banned many years ago as they can cause cancer. No shoe horns in the store. What is a shoe horn? In fact there are no longer any chairs to sit in. Just plastic boxes in a few places around the store. No measuring device to be seen anywhere. The attendant rushing off to serve a half dozen customers at the same time as you. No time to give you individual attention.Unless you know your size. But of course these days there is not a standard size. Oh no of course not. The US size 9 is 42.5 in the Euro size and 27cm for the rest of the world. NO UK size and definately no Australian size. Size 9 US in one brand could be size 7.5 in another brand or a size 8 in yet another brand.
Width? Huh! D, E, EE, EEE and widths above and below but not at this store and no offer to try their other stores to see if there is a model S923l in EE. These are discontinued shoes. To get that size you have to go to the next version which is a model T9232 and they are only $100 more than the pair you are trying on.
Shoes are no longer made in Australia in Australian sizes. They are made in China, in Thailand, in Indonesia, in Vietnam or even the Phillipnes!
Service is no longer provided in Australia and I am guessing the UK the US or Canada or any other what we call a "civilised" nation suffers from a lack of service.
We are customers of a mass produced product with the only goal to produce as much profit as possible with as little service as possible.
Am I unhappy about a recent shoe buying excursion?
You betcha.
Would you like to hear about when I went to buy a shirt and a pair of trousers? (All trousers came in different waist sizes but are all the same length... about 50cm of material needs to be cut off and the trousers re-cuffed)
If you think buying a pair of shoes is an unsatisfactory experience just try buying some clothing.
Is it any wonder I hate clothes and shoe shopping.
But...
Perhaps I can save that experience for another time.
Friday, 18 May 2012
Hello world!
I have been away far too long being busy with other things and neglecting this blog.
My excuse is I have not had the time to sit down with a bit of free "my time" on a regular basis.
So, to get the new ball rolling I thought this email, received today, may be of interest to readers.
I have no idea as to the authenticity of the origins of the "doctor" who wrote the missive. The way the letter is addressed to the "Prime Minister" rather than to "The Prime Minister, Julia Gillard" suggests a lack of knowledge of Australian politics and may in fact been a copy of a US letter to their Government. As well the letter refers to "cell phones" which is a US based language. In Australia mostly the devices are called "mobiles or mobile phone". There is also reference to expensive tennis shoes. Generally Australians do not worry too much about the cost of a pair of sports shoes.
Or do we?
Regardless of the above, the sentiments expressed are accurate within Australia.
Here it comes...
'Views of a young Doctor .......
I have been away far too long being busy with other things and neglecting this blog.
My excuse is I have not had the time to sit down with a bit of free "my time" on a regular basis.
So, to get the new ball rolling I thought this email, received today, may be of interest to readers.
I have no idea as to the authenticity of the origins of the "doctor" who wrote the missive. The way the letter is addressed to the "Prime Minister" rather than to "The Prime Minister, Julia Gillard" suggests a lack of knowledge of Australian politics and may in fact been a copy of a US letter to their Government. As well the letter refers to "cell phones" which is a US based language. In Australia mostly the devices are called "mobiles or mobile phone". There is also reference to expensive tennis shoes. Generally Australians do not worry too much about the cost of a pair of sports shoes.
Or do we?
Regardless of the above, the sentiments expressed are accurate within Australia.
Here it comes...
'Views of a young Doctor .......
|
Respectfully,
STARNER JONES, MD
Friday, 27 April 2012
Goodness
me, how time fly's when you are having a good time. I have not thought about
updating this blog in weeks. Never fear, I am here. In order to post something,
anything I was waiting for my email to provide something of interest and
reflects my quirky sense of humour. This one arrived, tickled my funny bone and
suggested I share it with you. Returned Mail Can you believe it? They sent my
income tax return form back to me! In response to question # 4, "Do you
have any dependants?" I replied - "2.1 million illegal immigrants,
1.1 million crackheads, 4.4 million unemployable people, 901 thousand people in
over 85 prisons, and 650 idiots in Parliament. Apparently, this was NOT an
acceptable answer. Who the hell did I miss?
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
I know it has been a while since I last posted so
these puns are thrown in until I have more time...
Puns for those with a slightly higher IQ... like you and me!
Those who jump off a bridge in Paris are in Seine ..... A man's home is his castle, in a manor of speaking. Dijon vu - the same mustard as before. Practice safe eating - always use condiments. Shotgun wedding - A case of wife or death. A man needs a mistress just to break the monogamy. A hangover is the wrath of grapes. Dancing cheek-to-cheek is really a form of floor play. Does the name Pavlov ring a bell? Condoms should be used on every conceivable occasion. Reading while sunbathing makes you well red. When two egotists meet, it's an I for an I. A bicycle can't stand on its own because it is two tired. What's the definition of a will? (It's a dead give away.) Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. In democracy your vote counts. In feudalism your count votes. She was engaged to a boyfriend with a wooden leg but broke it off. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion. If you don't pay your exorcist, You get repossessed The man who fell into an upholstery machine is fully recovered. You feel stuck with your debt if you can't budge it. Local Area Network in Australia - the LAN down under. Every calendar's days are numbered. A lot of money is tainted - Taint yours and taint mine. A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat. He had a photographic memory that was never developed. A midget fortune-teller who escapes from prison is a small medium at large. Once you've seen one shopping centre, You've seen a mall. Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead-to-know basis. Santa's helpers are subordinate clauses. Acupuncture is a jab well done.
Bad spellers of the world untie.
Every dog has his day but a dog with
a broken tail has a weak end.
|
||
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Sorry
folks.
I looked back on the blog with a small amount of embarrassment as I have not written since Novemeber. TchTch!
To coin a phrase, "I have been busy".
Norfolk Island. Ever been there?
Know where it is?
What is it's export earnings and what do they contribute to the economy?
All these and many questions may be answered. Maybe not.
I have been to Norfolk Island. In fact I like the place. It is steeped in history.
It is also steeped in Xenophobic (thanks Stafford) inbred families.
Here is a potted version of history.
Norfolk Island was first settled as penal colony. It was a colony to New South Wales which itself was a penal colony to Merry England. (as was Victoria and Queensland and the rest of Australia.)
The cost of maintaining the colony was more than the colony of NSW could support so a decision was made to close it down. But... what to do with all that infrastructure the convicts built? The roads, the harbours (sorry, harbour, singular) the rapidly filling cemetry, the gaols, the barracks, the court house and so on.
Hmmm.
About this time the descendants of the Mutiny on the Bounty, you know, Fletcher Christian and his mob, were on Pitcairn Island and complaining about the lack of, well, just about everything. Remember these guys were being punished for their part in a mutiny but with all great prison stories the bad guys still do not know or believe they are bad guys. To keep the peace the Pitcairners were further punished by being given Norfolk Island. The descendants of the original stock of inbreds still live there today.
Inbred of course.
Technically NI (Norfolk Island) is part of NSW. The good folk of NI do not have sales tax or personal income tax. So stuff on NI is cheaper than on the mainland. There is no duty on tobacco or alcohol. NI does not contribute to the NSW coffers nor indeed the Australian coffers. But... NSW and Australia pay to maintain NI while the inbreds prosper with maintaining their pirate heritage on the unsuspecting tourists.
In the tradition of biting the hand that feeds it, most goods such as food and fuel are imported from New Zealand. The sale income from those imported goods goes to NZ businesses, not Oz businesses.
Most tourists come from Oz.
The laws on NI are old English law, sort of bent and twisted to suit the afforementioned inbreds umm err locals.
What do they export? Well, apart from a few Kentia Palm seeds and seedlings which are in huge demand in at least a couple of places in the world, I cannot think of any other exports.
Except, maybe, perhaps, books written by the best selling author, Colleen McCulloch. Then again, she is not a local. She moved there 20 years ago. The locals call her local but does the sale of her books, worldwide count as a cottage industry export?
Hmmm! Perhaps not.
Should you be planning a trip to N I there are a few things to be aware of.
The locals are strongly close knit and look upon tourists as a money making enterprise. They all know and co-operate with each other.
Shopping, such as it is, has hours still linked to NSW of the 1940's. Do not expect to buy a hamburger or pizza after 6pm.
Cattle have right of way. If a cow should jump in front of your hire car and you accidentally kill it, get the next flight out to the mainland and hope nobody saw the incident. Otherwise you will be hauled before the courts and fined. The fine would be a fine to the court. On top of that you will pay for the cost of the loss of the animal. You will also pay for the projected earnings that cow may have provided in the coming 12 months. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
There is no liability insurance cover on NI. There is no insurance on NI. Lets examine this for a moment.
On the mainland you are a passenger is a bus. The bus crashes and you require hospitalisation for several months as well as several operations. You miss all that time off work and need rehabilitation. It is all covered under the third party insurance, compulsory with registration in all staes of Australia. On NI if you are injured in bus accident it is your fault for being there in the first place so you are liable for all costs including repatriation back to OZ or wherever.
When you first arrive on NI, the plane taxis to the air terminal but you are asked to stay seated until the high ranking official of the day welcomes you. Local rules, customs and mores and laws are explained to you. Finally the local high ranking official of the day is about to allow you off the plane when he/she say's, "Oh by the way, when you leave, we have a departure tax which must be paid, in cash, on the day of your departure."
Have a great time on NI and do not kill any animals.
I looked back on the blog with a small amount of embarrassment as I have not written since Novemeber. TchTch!
To coin a phrase, "I have been busy".
Norfolk Island. Ever been there?
Know where it is?
What is it's export earnings and what do they contribute to the economy?
All these and many questions may be answered. Maybe not.
I have been to Norfolk Island. In fact I like the place. It is steeped in history.
It is also steeped in Xenophobic (thanks Stafford) inbred families.
Here is a potted version of history.
Norfolk Island was first settled as penal colony. It was a colony to New South Wales which itself was a penal colony to Merry England. (as was Victoria and Queensland and the rest of Australia.)
The cost of maintaining the colony was more than the colony of NSW could support so a decision was made to close it down. But... what to do with all that infrastructure the convicts built? The roads, the harbours (sorry, harbour, singular) the rapidly filling cemetry, the gaols, the barracks, the court house and so on.
Hmmm.
About this time the descendants of the Mutiny on the Bounty, you know, Fletcher Christian and his mob, were on Pitcairn Island and complaining about the lack of, well, just about everything. Remember these guys were being punished for their part in a mutiny but with all great prison stories the bad guys still do not know or believe they are bad guys. To keep the peace the Pitcairners were further punished by being given Norfolk Island. The descendants of the original stock of inbreds still live there today.
Inbred of course.
Technically NI (Norfolk Island) is part of NSW. The good folk of NI do not have sales tax or personal income tax. So stuff on NI is cheaper than on the mainland. There is no duty on tobacco or alcohol. NI does not contribute to the NSW coffers nor indeed the Australian coffers. But... NSW and Australia pay to maintain NI while the inbreds prosper with maintaining their pirate heritage on the unsuspecting tourists.
In the tradition of biting the hand that feeds it, most goods such as food and fuel are imported from New Zealand. The sale income from those imported goods goes to NZ businesses, not Oz businesses.
Most tourists come from Oz.
The laws on NI are old English law, sort of bent and twisted to suit the afforementioned inbreds umm err locals.
What do they export? Well, apart from a few Kentia Palm seeds and seedlings which are in huge demand in at least a couple of places in the world, I cannot think of any other exports.
Except, maybe, perhaps, books written by the best selling author, Colleen McCulloch. Then again, she is not a local. She moved there 20 years ago. The locals call her local but does the sale of her books, worldwide count as a cottage industry export?
Hmmm! Perhaps not.
Should you be planning a trip to N I there are a few things to be aware of.
The locals are strongly close knit and look upon tourists as a money making enterprise. They all know and co-operate with each other.
Shopping, such as it is, has hours still linked to NSW of the 1940's. Do not expect to buy a hamburger or pizza after 6pm.
Cattle have right of way. If a cow should jump in front of your hire car and you accidentally kill it, get the next flight out to the mainland and hope nobody saw the incident. Otherwise you will be hauled before the courts and fined. The fine would be a fine to the court. On top of that you will pay for the cost of the loss of the animal. You will also pay for the projected earnings that cow may have provided in the coming 12 months. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
There is no liability insurance cover on NI. There is no insurance on NI. Lets examine this for a moment.
On the mainland you are a passenger is a bus. The bus crashes and you require hospitalisation for several months as well as several operations. You miss all that time off work and need rehabilitation. It is all covered under the third party insurance, compulsory with registration in all staes of Australia. On NI if you are injured in bus accident it is your fault for being there in the first place so you are liable for all costs including repatriation back to OZ or wherever.
When you first arrive on NI, the plane taxis to the air terminal but you are asked to stay seated until the high ranking official of the day welcomes you. Local rules, customs and mores and laws are explained to you. Finally the local high ranking official of the day is about to allow you off the plane when he/she say's, "Oh by the way, when you leave, we have a departure tax which must be paid, in cash, on the day of your departure."
Have a great time on NI and do not kill any animals.
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