Is anybody out there having a big birthday on Monday?

 ?

?

Maybe someone is turning 55, or 60?

70?

Big apologies to The Curmudgeon!

 

The Curmudgeon (aka Peter).

I feel that I really put The Curmudgeon under undue pressure today and I'm sorry. Really sorry. I had earlier rang him for a quick chat but he missed the call (he's a busy boy old man and could have been doing a number of very important things). Then I missed his call, so I rang him back. He talked for a couple of minutes and then said he had to go because he had something important happening.

I quickly ran through possible events that could be happening in my mind:

• A tsunami in his harbour?
• A neighbour was waiting on an ambulance?
• An unexpected military invasion of Whangarei?
• Whales washed up on his beach?
• A force 15 earthquake?

It turns out that it was something equally important. He was listening to something on the radio.

But alone in his case.

Okay, he has no car, there is no local bus service and his bicycle has flat tyres so the greatest distance he can wander is probably to the letterbox. One would expect that there would not be much pressing business that needed the urgent attention of a nearly 70 year old.

WRONG!

He was listening to something on the radio.

Ah, well, I guess he's sort of living like a hillbilly.

Check out the first picture on this post.
Can you spot the similarity?

Will the mohawk come back again?

 First it was Mohawk Boy...

...and then it was Mr. T.

It's hard to say which of these two was the coolest.*

Generally speaking, and I do mean 'generally', people who have mohawks are considered to be cool. However, sitting on a silly little bike can severely dent that idea.

Dented, no longer cool.

The Curmudgeon is stuck at home because he won't blow up the tyres on his bicycle.

Lazy bugger!

It appears that there is no bus service up near the Whangarei Heads. Maybe walking isn't allowed either? Ah well, it gives the old boy (who is pushing 70) something to moan about and, I suppose, something to blog about.

* No, it's not!

Foolery. Foolhardy. Thoughts on a wet, cold Sunday afternoon.

 We have a saying in Italian, one that I've used many times lately, "La mamma degli imbecilli è sempre incinta."

I've just read TC's latest post HERE and, if my saying ever needed support, here it is!

Some believe that God and Jesus are here to help. When they don't seem to give a shit (think the Covid pandemic, for example), we're told that they work in mysterious ways. That seems to me like having a bet both ways. The thoughts / solutions of imbeciles?

Anyway, the problem is really to stop silly people following the words of imbeciles. What is needed is a practical solution, based on common sense, that gives the best possible outcome for all people. We don't need to have some people with incredible amounts of money and power. It certainly doesn't help to have people shooting each other - let's not even think of giving their children guns. Scientific style reason and empathy are our best ways forward. I guess that the trouble is that imbeciles will have completely different, whacky ideas. The problem is that the mother of imbeciles is always pregnant.

Ciao tutti.

Tough luck for Tom.

 Tom sat at his computer. He was aware of the sound of rain.

"Rain only has a sound when it touches something else." he thought. What Tom was really hearing was the solidness of the things that the rain was crashing into. 

It was Saturday morning, quite early really, and Tom was the only person in his house who was not asleep. His first job, on exiting bed, had been to turn a heater on. His second job involved the room that contained four taps and a thing that you were expected to flush after use. 

Tom organised his thoughts as best he could. He checked a blog site for any updates. There was the same post. Short, but then the author had copied all the words from a song. Tom had skimmed through and got the main idea. He figured it was about life being hard. 

Close to his computer there was a music stand.

A folder of music had been left on it. It was open at pages 3 and 4. There was no clear indication why these two pages should be exposed. The music used a treble clef - it could have been intended for a variety of instruments. There were lots of black dots, which probably gave an interested bystander a little more indication of what type of music was in his sight line. Though, only a musician would have spent more time trying to decipher its intent.

Next to the music stand, well within the distance of a metre, sat a white machine. This machine was attracting Tom's attention today. This room, and the one beside it, fitted well  into the description 'cluttered'.

Tom felt aware that there was definitely no room to put a grand piano in either of these rooms.

He guessed that it would be a stretch to fit in even a violoncello, or something a bit bigger. Then his thoughts went back to the white machine. 

In one instant it provided both a solution and a problem. Tom knew that there was a space where it should be, but the problem was getting it there, and that wouldn't be happening in the next few days. Tough luck for the grand piano. Tough luck for Tom.

Of duty.

 No, that title isn't the sort of grammatical mistake you'll frequently see on Peter's and Robert's blogs. I'm not trying to inform readers that I'm off duty, rather I'm considering what duty means.

Thursday 28th July, 9.10am.

Richard (of RBB) has just tried to settle a rather frisky bunch of adolescents when his phone rings, not once, but twice and in quick succession. He has no choice but to answer it.

Hi, I'm teaching at present. Who is it?

"This is Noel Leeming (probably not the actual man). We'll be delivering your dryer tomorrow. We'll need you to be home. Our man can help you get the old dryer down but he can't help you get the new dryer up."

"Yes, they told me that in the store. Can he come after 2.15pm tomorrow because I'll be at work before that?"

"No, he'll ring between 8 and 9 to tell you what time he'll be in Nuova Lazio. Will you be home?"

"I guess I'll have to be."

So, what's all this got to do with duty? Well, to be precise,  it's more about good customer service. You see, if I hadn't already paid for the bloody dryer, I would have told Noel (I'm sure it's not the real Noel) to get lost and keep the bloody thing. 

"It must be hard for Noel to have a presence 
in all of his stores. He must be driving
all day!" said the passing man to his wife.

Okay, it's all about health and safety, but wouldn't it be easier for two young and fit delivery men to put a dryer up (on the wall) than a chap who is touching 70? How do little old ladies get on when their dryer arrives and they need it on the wall? 

Actually, getting a dryer where you can use it - which requires a bit of assembly work - is actually the hardest part of buying one, supposing that you can afford it. Also, some people couldn't afford to take an unpaid day off work, as I have done. 

I suppose that this 'do it yourself' approach is the policy with all retail stores that sell big things like dryers that often have to go on the wall. Though they still charge you for every little thing that they do. When you see an item on the showroom floor, don't make the mistake of thinking that is what you'll pay.

Let the buyer beware and be strong enough to lift the bloody thing and know how to put the hooks on and assemble the venting unit that didn't come with the machine.

Ciao tutti.

A message to The Curmudgeon who is being 'a bit of a bitch'.

 

This much older guy is 'a bit of a bitch'.

Ciao tutti.