Monday 20 February 2012

If you were born in the 40s, 50s, or 60s, Congratulations

We survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us and lived in houses made of asbestos...

Our baby cots were covered with bright coloured lead-based paints. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets or shoes, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

We used aspirin exclusively, ate bread and dripping, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes or cervical cancer.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. Take away food was limited to fish and chips. No pizza shops, McDonalds , KFC, Subway or Nandos.

Even though all the shops closed at 6.00pm and didn't open on a Sunday, somehow we didn't starve to death! We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and no one actually died from this. We could collect old drink bottles and cash them in at the corner store and buy Toffees, Gobstoppers and Bubble Gum.

We ate cakes, white bread and real butter, milk from the cow, and drank soft drinks with sugar in it, but we weren't overweight because we were playing outside.We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O..K. We would spend hours building our go-carts out of old prams and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and dens and played in river beds with matchbox cars.We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them!

Yes, we fell out of trees, got cuts, broke bones and teeth and no one sued anyone over it. We ate worms and ate dirt and the worms did not live in us forever.

Mum didn't have to go to work to help dad make ends meet because we didn't need to keep up with the Joneses

Not everyone made the rugby/football/cricket /netball team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!! Getting into the team was based on merit.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo Wii , X-boxes, no video games at all, no 999 channels on SKY, no video/dvd films, or colour TV, no mobile phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms. We had friends and we went outside and found them!

Only girls had pierced ears!

You could only buy Easter Eggs and Hot Cross Buns at Easter time....

We were given air guns and catapults for our 10th birthdays.

Our teachers used to hit us with canes and gym shoes and throw the blackboard rubber at us if they thought we weren't concentrating. We can string sentences together and spell and have proper conversations because of a good, solid three Rs education. Our parents would tell us to ask a stranger to help us cross the road.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

Our parents didn't invent stupid names for their kids like 'Kiora' and 'Blade' and 'Ridge' and 'Vanilla'

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and that's how we learned to deal with life.

Monday 29 August 2011

Customer in-Service.

So, Friday Night as I was pulling up at home when my Petrol light came on.
"Ah no problem, I'll fill up on my way to work on Monday."
So this morning, I hadn't needed to use the car at the weekend, so I'll drop in to the [MAJOR CHAIN] petrol station in the village. It's in the wrong direction but it's only a mile and the roads are quiet. Drove there. It's shut. Flaming village life!

So, I then my next option was a service station in the right direction on the motorway. That's only about 20 miles and because it is a service station, it's bound to be open.

Got there. Extortionate £1.45/litre! So only got enough for return trip. I'll fill up at my regular petrol station tomorrow at £1.31/litre. It summed up the whole weekend.

It started on Saturday, I suggested we have a short walk in the village as we need to top up on some provisions. While we're at the supermarket we could stop off at the in-store cafeteria and have a light lunch.

Walked there. It's only about a mile. Did the shopping, paid for it and perused the menu board. There were paninis, ready-cut sandwiches and a selection of hot-lamp hot meals. We both settled for the panini's and an instant machine-made cappuccinos. As second choice, we could have the pre-made sandwiches.

Well, there was one sandwich and one panino.  The staff, who outnumbered the selection, weren't actually behind the counter were chatting between themselves. The hot-lamp meals were uncovered and was starting to look crusty. We were disappointed and left.

No matter, there is a newly re-opened pub on the way back home. They opened last weekend.  They have A-boards out describing that they do pub meals and have entertainment on each night of the week. The door was open, the lights were on and an A-board was out. We'll try that.
"We only opened last week and the kitchen hasn't been deep cleaned yet."
The bar didn't look open either.

Ah well. Although it's lunchtime, there's bound to be something else open. Or so you would think. Not a sole shop was open. Well not those serving food anyway.

Well the Chip shop was open. But haven't been there for over 4 years. They are so awful. That's another discussion.

The tumble weed was rolling down the village high street.

The 'bread' shop that opened a month or two ago that now sells delicatessen stuff was already shut. 
The tea shop was shut. But I think that's because he's trying to sell it. I hope not as a 'Going Concern'

The 'deli' that too has only been open a couple of months longer and we could see from a distance still had an A-board outside.

What's that? Could it be? Is it open?
We walked down the High Street, looking through the windows of all the shops that were closed. And it was only just after 1pm.

We approached the Deli. The lights were on. There were people inside sat at tables, drinking and consuming food. We looked at the OPENING TIMES board on the door. Open for another half hour. Good we thought, let's see what they can do.

We perused the menus on the wall. Nice selection of hot food and cold food and again an instant coffee making machine.

"Can I have the hot sausage and caramelised onion on a crusty bap (comes with salad)?"
"Sorry we've stopped doing hot food. We close in half an hour"

That was it. In a very loud voice,
"WHAT IS IT WITH THE TRADERS IN THIS VILLAGE? DON'T THEY WANT THE BUSINESS?"
"THEY DON'T DESERVE THE TRADE".

It might seem a bit harsh but we've had years of this customer in-service; Numerous occasions where you notice that the shops are open between 9am and 5pm. Only to be met with closed doors still at 9.15 or 4.30.

If I hear one more trader saying how business is bad. They will get a mouthful of abuse.

That was it. No more trying to get hot food. We shopped at the local 'quicky mart', picked up some more food that we could cook ourselves and went home.

Later that day, we planned to make up for it and decided that we'd have a little car trip on Sunday morning and visit our favourite Italian restaurant for breakfast as they're open at 9am. It's a 45 minute drive and a 15 minute walk after we'd park. But we've been there before and they do great Eggs Benedict.

We got up extra early, for a Sunday, at 8 o'clock, got washed and dressed, salivating at the prospect of a really nice Eggs Benedict.

Made good time. Parked the car and walked up to the shop at about quarter past nine only to be met with closed doors and a member of staff saying that the manager hadn't come in yet and so they couldn't open up. Perhaps they had the safe key and couldn't float-up the till or switch the alarm off. No clue was offered.

He did say that they might be open later and perhaps try again in half an hour. We decided to go for a coffee and a pastry in one of the only other shops open at that time, a costa-coffee-style shop. Meanwhile we discussed our alternatives.

Let's drive to Leicester. They have another [same Italian chain] restaurant that'll be serving Eggs Benedict. It's only 30 miles away.

I got out the sat-nav and we drove the back roads to Leicester. Only to find that there was some kind of charity event that had attracted thousands of people on bikes and lots of roads closed. No signs of diversions and drove around the city for half an hour looking for somewhere to park the car in order that we can walk to get breakfast. Breakfast? It was getting past brunch and was nearing lunch.

We gave up. We passed a retail park and as we had some other shopping to do. We went into a [major clothing chain] that also has an in-store cafe. Had something that resembled a cheese toasty and an enormous cup of instant cappuccino and went home. Thoroughly disappointed with Customer in-service.

Saturday 9 April 2011

My first blog


In my line of work I need to have experienced or at least be familiar with emerging technologies. I’ve shared photos with the community. I’ve reunited with my school friends. I’ve twitted, found my space on the web. I’ve made a book of faces and I’ve even met my partner online.

I didn’t think I’d try blogging though. I’ve never been one for maintaining a diary, but there seems to be a lot of it about. I use the internet as a reference tool and more and more information is being shared on blogs these days.

Okay, so I’ll need a peg.
What do I want to share with people? What do I normally share with people in the meat world?  I do like to whinge. I didn’t think I did. But apparently I do. The Whinging Ginger is born.

So what am I likely to learn?
Well I’ve learned how to set up a blog.
How to attract followers: Is it as simple as “If I follow you on your blog...” or “If I comment on your blog...” I don’t know I’ll see.

Okay, will I need rules?
Now I wouldn’t want to mention anyone by name. That’s a good one. I don’t want to commit suicide. So if you’re following in the hope that I’m going to mention you. Hey I might do, but it’s unlikely to be in a bad way.