Well, I've just been spending the last few days pottering around the area in Tasmania where I used to live.
I managed to catch up with some old friends - both people and places. I was mildly annoyed to find the first two days I was here just happened to be when they had two days worth of cold, shivering rain to break the unusually warm dry spell they had been having until I left the plane...
I had a perfectly glorious day to go for a hike to Anniversary Bay and have a stroll through the Allendale Gardens (two of my favourite places), though. It was a perfectly magnificent day - just perfect for a walk in a national park.
Oh, and Allendale Gardens was just magnificent. The roses they had planted just before my last visit were all huge and blooming and glorious, and I've always loved the older parts of the gardens. I've decided that, if miracles happen and I ever do get married, Allendale Gardens will be awfully high on my list of places in which to do it. I just have to figure out whether or not it would be completely tasteless to get married by an Elvis impersonator if one is going to be married in a beautiful private garden in Tasmania, as opposed to a tacky chapel in Vegas...
Warratah is still the same cypher it always was - a pretty little town that should both be more than it is and probably not exist at all... I'll right a bit more about Warratah later.
And Wynyard? I've always loved this town. I'll have to come back here every couple of years ago, if I can help it.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Tide
"Washing powder?"
"What?"
"Was he selling washing powder?"
"No..."
"Tide"
"What?"
"I wash in Tide."
"Ah, me too. It’s too cold out-tide."
Someone came up to the desk with a shirt that had a logo for Tide on it today. I had to ask her if she new it was a brand of laundry powder. I don’t know why, but every now and then I feel compelled to ask people if they know what they’re wearing (she didn't know - she thought it was a Thai soft drink).
I once saw a young teenage girl wearing a shirt with the words “Soylent Green” written very decoratively across the front. Part of me wanted to ask her if she knew what she was wearing, part of me wanted to lie down and do my best Charlton Heston impersonation (bloody hand reaching aimlessly towards the sky…), the rest of me knew there were some things you just shouldn’t do in a crowded shopping centre, and I let her walk by uninterrupted.
By the way, five points goes to whoever can correctly identify where the quote at the beginning of this post came from. You don't even have to remember who wrote it, just what format it was in and what it was about.
"What?"
"Was he selling washing powder?"
"No..."
"Tide"
"What?"
"I wash in Tide."
"Ah, me too. It’s too cold out-tide."
Someone came up to the desk with a shirt that had a logo for Tide on it today. I had to ask her if she new it was a brand of laundry powder. I don’t know why, but every now and then I feel compelled to ask people if they know what they’re wearing (she didn't know - she thought it was a Thai soft drink).
I once saw a young teenage girl wearing a shirt with the words “Soylent Green” written very decoratively across the front. Part of me wanted to ask her if she knew what she was wearing, part of me wanted to lie down and do my best Charlton Heston impersonation (bloody hand reaching aimlessly towards the sky…), the rest of me knew there were some things you just shouldn’t do in a crowded shopping centre, and I let her walk by uninterrupted.
By the way, five points goes to whoever can correctly identify where the quote at the beginning of this post came from. You don't even have to remember who wrote it, just what format it was in and what it was about.
I Say it's Spinach and to Hell With It
I heard this Irving Berlin song on the radio some months back. It came from a cast-recording of a short-run revival of Face the Music, which was apparently very topical (1932), and therefore very "thirties".
I had never heard the term "say it's spinach and to hell with it" before. Now it's stuck in my head. And, of course, now that I've heard it once, it seems to be everywhere
The line originally from a New Yorker cartoon created by E.B. White in 1925. The original cartoon featured a conversation between a toddler and his mother:
Now, that strikes me as someone saying "you can't pull the wool over my eyes - I know what's what and I'm not going to be gulled into eating something unpleasant" if, of course, the broccoli was spinach. If it was, in fact, broccoli, then it's more of a "I don't care what you say, I've made up my mind and you can't change it" sort of thing.
Yet, most of the places I've seen this quote used (including the Berlin song) tend to use it in a different light - more "well, this is a load of twaddle, so let's ditch it and move on".
I'm not sure this post had any point, really. I just really need sleep. Instead I'm working a night shift and trying to talk myself into doing more work on the spreadsheets I seem to be chained to at present.
Tell you what, as far as these spreadsheets go, I really feel like saying "it's spinach and to hell with it!"
As an interesting (to me) aside, when I started this blog post I was quite happy to be lazy and not do an awful lot of research beyond a few quick Google searchers. Then for some reason I kept trying new things until I actually found the original cartoon online and had to re-write half of my blog to include the factual information rather than my half-informed surmises. It wasn't intentional, it just happened. I guess there's a reason why I became a librarian - I research things even when I'm trying not to...
Long as there's you, long as there's me
Long as the best things in life are free
I say it's spinach and the hell with it
The hell with it, that's all!
I had never heard the term "say it's spinach and to hell with it" before. Now it's stuck in my head. And, of course, now that I've heard it once, it seems to be everywhere
The line originally from a New Yorker cartoon created by E.B. White in 1925. The original cartoon featured a conversation between a toddler and his mother:
Desperate Mother: It's broccoli, dear.
Petulant Child: I say it's spinach and to hell with it.
Now, that strikes me as someone saying "you can't pull the wool over my eyes - I know what's what and I'm not going to be gulled into eating something unpleasant" if, of course, the broccoli was spinach. If it was, in fact, broccoli, then it's more of a "I don't care what you say, I've made up my mind and you can't change it" sort of thing.
Yet, most of the places I've seen this quote used (including the Berlin song) tend to use it in a different light - more "well, this is a load of twaddle, so let's ditch it and move on".
I'm not sure this post had any point, really. I just really need sleep. Instead I'm working a night shift and trying to talk myself into doing more work on the spreadsheets I seem to be chained to at present.
Tell you what, as far as these spreadsheets go, I really feel like saying "it's spinach and to hell with it!"
As an interesting (to me) aside, when I started this blog post I was quite happy to be lazy and not do an awful lot of research beyond a few quick Google searchers. Then for some reason I kept trying new things until I actually found the original cartoon online and had to re-write half of my blog to include the factual information rather than my half-informed surmises. It wasn't intentional, it just happened. I guess there's a reason why I became a librarian - I research things even when I'm trying not to...
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Gladiators on the Village Green
Me: Ah, 'Gladiators'. So good to have it back. I've always maintained that 'Gladiators' was the second best game show in the history of game shows. The best was probably 'It's a Knockout'.
Him: I feel honour bound to point out to you that ‘Gladiators’ is not in fact a game show, it is a reality TV show, and is therefore the enemy of all things good and true. If you watch it, somewhere a ‘Firefly’ or ‘Arrested Development’ fan drops dead.
Not true! Not true I say! 'Gladiators' is not only a bona fide "game show", but it goes right to the heart of what a "game show" is - and it's a (rather well disguised, admittedly) revival of one of the oldest "gaming" traditions in our culture. There have always been two different types of games in our culture - parlour games and "village green" games, and the latter has a longer tradition of entertaining the masses than the former, but is under a greater threat.
Long before people in suits sat behind buzzers and answered silly questions like "What is the capital of Madagascar?", people would gather at the village green and try to knock each other off greasy poles while balancing over mud pits. Long before they were trying to guess which suitcase held the highest number (okay, surely there's no way you can get an entire half-hour out of that concept?), they would compete to see who could get to the top of the may-pole first. That entire concept of getting from one side of the playing area to the other while members of the opposing team tried to stop you? As old as time itself - and one of the foundations behind many sports today. And races through horrible, awkward, messy, wet obstacle courses are the direct ascendants of the steeple chase and other "games" that used to be a lot more interesting before they got into the Olympics...
'Gladiators' is an exaggerated, heavily padded version of the games villagers used to play during their harvest and spring time celebrations. What you see when you watch modern game shows like "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" or "Are you Smarter than a Fifth Grader" is the result of a tradition that started with the radio. You couldn't see people knocking each other off greasy poles into mud pits on the radio, so they favoured the types of parlour games that were heavily word oriented instead of the "village green" games that were largely visual. Television evolved from radio, so the first game shows you saw on TV were actually the same game shows you once listened to on the wireless - and things just continued on from there.
It's actually rather interesting, when you think about it. Once upon a time the parlour games were enjoyed by a small group of people indoors on a cool evening, while the "village green" games would bring the whole community together (and sometimes neighbouring communities as well) and have everyone talking about them for weeks. Now, thanks to radio and television, the parlour games are this huge national things that everyone watches and talks about, while the "village green" games have become something you might do once in your life (or maybe at a school fun day) and they're this small, local thing that not many people might see...
Anyway, one of the reasons why I love 'Gladiators' (apart from the pure cheese factor, which is a big selling point for me) is that it is bringing back the concept of the physical games and keeping the whole greasy-pole thing in the public consciousness (this was also one of the reasons why I couldn't entirely hate the Friday Night Games spin off from Big Brother, even though I wanted to). Yes, the pole has been replaced by a suspension bridge. Yes, the mud pit has been replaced with a hell of a lot of padding, but it's still the same game at heart.
And they are games - and it is a game show, not a reality show. We aren't following these people for weeks and no one is voting them off. They play the games and win or loose.
You say every time a reality show proves successful a good quality scripted drama dies (or is never born), and I agree, but I say we need shows like 'Gladiators' to balance out shows like 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire'. I bet the kids in your class have played games like 'Millionaire' and 'Sale of the Century' many times in the past, but have any of them ever tried to pull themselves up to the top of the rope and grab the ring/flag? Heck, you'd be surprised to find out just how many of them have never been in a three-legged race - and that's one of the most dirt-basic, common "village green" games out there.
It always amazes me when I go to fairs or fetes and the only game they have is a boot-tossing competition. Where are the muddy pits? Where are the greasy poles? Where's the race track for the egg-and-spoon races, the sack races, the three-legged races and the wheelbarrow races? Where are the coconut shys? Why is a log-splitting competition now part of the semi-professional sport of wood chopping and not something that just happens at community events? I once saw a potato picking race (where you had to compete to see who could put the most potatoes in a sack in the time allowed) and was impressed that it would still exist - but perplexed that they didn't also have a sack race (seeing as they had the sacks, and all).
We're slowly loosing the "village green" games - and it's really hard to enthuse people about bringing them back. I've often tried to convince people to have a few "fun day" type races (I've even been willing to co-ordinate them), but I get knocked back no one really connects with them any more. It's slipping out of our cultural currency. But - we have 'Gladiators'. Even if you can't convince the modern punter to "climb the rope and grab the flag", you can market it as "Townsville Gladiators" and suddenly people are more engaged - more interested.
So, yes, 'Gladiators' is a game show. Perhaps not the most intelligent game show on the face of the earth, but no less important for the fact that the games are physical instead of knowledge based. I shall defend it to the death (or at least to the pain).
Him: I feel honour bound to point out to you that ‘Gladiators’ is not in fact a game show, it is a reality TV show, and is therefore the enemy of all things good and true. If you watch it, somewhere a ‘Firefly’ or ‘Arrested Development’ fan drops dead.
Not true! Not true I say! 'Gladiators' is not only a bona fide "game show", but it goes right to the heart of what a "game show" is - and it's a (rather well disguised, admittedly) revival of one of the oldest "gaming" traditions in our culture. There have always been two different types of games in our culture - parlour games and "village green" games, and the latter has a longer tradition of entertaining the masses than the former, but is under a greater threat.
Long before people in suits sat behind buzzers and answered silly questions like "What is the capital of Madagascar?", people would gather at the village green and try to knock each other off greasy poles while balancing over mud pits. Long before they were trying to guess which suitcase held the highest number (okay, surely there's no way you can get an entire half-hour out of that concept?), they would compete to see who could get to the top of the may-pole first. That entire concept of getting from one side of the playing area to the other while members of the opposing team tried to stop you? As old as time itself - and one of the foundations behind many sports today. And races through horrible, awkward, messy, wet obstacle courses are the direct ascendants of the steeple chase and other "games" that used to be a lot more interesting before they got into the Olympics...
'Gladiators' is an exaggerated, heavily padded version of the games villagers used to play during their harvest and spring time celebrations. What you see when you watch modern game shows like "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" or "Are you Smarter than a Fifth Grader" is the result of a tradition that started with the radio. You couldn't see people knocking each other off greasy poles into mud pits on the radio, so they favoured the types of parlour games that were heavily word oriented instead of the "village green" games that were largely visual. Television evolved from radio, so the first game shows you saw on TV were actually the same game shows you once listened to on the wireless - and things just continued on from there.
It's actually rather interesting, when you think about it. Once upon a time the parlour games were enjoyed by a small group of people indoors on a cool evening, while the "village green" games would bring the whole community together (and sometimes neighbouring communities as well) and have everyone talking about them for weeks. Now, thanks to radio and television, the parlour games are this huge national things that everyone watches and talks about, while the "village green" games have become something you might do once in your life (or maybe at a school fun day) and they're this small, local thing that not many people might see...
Anyway, one of the reasons why I love 'Gladiators' (apart from the pure cheese factor, which is a big selling point for me) is that it is bringing back the concept of the physical games and keeping the whole greasy-pole thing in the public consciousness (this was also one of the reasons why I couldn't entirely hate the Friday Night Games spin off from Big Brother, even though I wanted to). Yes, the pole has been replaced by a suspension bridge. Yes, the mud pit has been replaced with a hell of a lot of padding, but it's still the same game at heart.
And they are games - and it is a game show, not a reality show. We aren't following these people for weeks and no one is voting them off. They play the games and win or loose.
You say every time a reality show proves successful a good quality scripted drama dies (or is never born), and I agree, but I say we need shows like 'Gladiators' to balance out shows like 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire'. I bet the kids in your class have played games like 'Millionaire' and 'Sale of the Century' many times in the past, but have any of them ever tried to pull themselves up to the top of the rope and grab the ring/flag? Heck, you'd be surprised to find out just how many of them have never been in a three-legged race - and that's one of the most dirt-basic, common "village green" games out there.
It always amazes me when I go to fairs or fetes and the only game they have is a boot-tossing competition. Where are the muddy pits? Where are the greasy poles? Where's the race track for the egg-and-spoon races, the sack races, the three-legged races and the wheelbarrow races? Where are the coconut shys? Why is a log-splitting competition now part of the semi-professional sport of wood chopping and not something that just happens at community events? I once saw a potato picking race (where you had to compete to see who could put the most potatoes in a sack in the time allowed) and was impressed that it would still exist - but perplexed that they didn't also have a sack race (seeing as they had the sacks, and all).
We're slowly loosing the "village green" games - and it's really hard to enthuse people about bringing them back. I've often tried to convince people to have a few "fun day" type races (I've even been willing to co-ordinate them), but I get knocked back no one really connects with them any more. It's slipping out of our cultural currency. But - we have 'Gladiators'. Even if you can't convince the modern punter to "climb the rope and grab the flag", you can market it as "Townsville Gladiators" and suddenly people are more engaged - more interested.
So, yes, 'Gladiators' is a game show. Perhaps not the most intelligent game show on the face of the earth, but no less important for the fact that the games are physical instead of knowledge based. I shall defend it to the death (or at least to the pain).
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
More on the Julia Creek Triathlon
Makes me laugh every time:
But, wait, that's only the people between me and the bus. There are also the cars behind the bus...
What larks, eh? What larks.
But, wait, that's only the people between me and the bus. There are also the cars behind the bus...
What larks, eh? What larks.
Talk to me
It's one of the "sad but true" aspects of my life that people rarely ever start conversations with me.
Oh, they do if I'm physically near them (standing in the room and all that), but apparently not if it involves a phone call or an email. Of the friends and family with whom I keep in contact, I can count on one hand the number of times they've contacted me first.
Every now and then I get into a "well I'll just stop contacting them, then - then we'll see if they care enough to get in contact with me" kind of mood.
Unfortunately, I can't shake the feeling that it's purely by virtue of my own stubbornness that I speak to these people at all, and should I stop initiating conversations they will rapidly become people I used to talk to, followed in due course by becoming people I used to know.
The thing is, I usually start a conversation with them because something made me think of them. I see something and think to myself "Tom would have gotten a kick out of that" so I write an email to Tom to tell him about it. Or I'll start writing an email to Tom and think "actually, this is news I wouldn't mind sharing with Dick and Harriet, too", so I'll turn it into a group letter and send it to everyone with whom I wish to keep up-to-date.
I do this in the vain hope that they will also want me to know about what's happening in their lives - that they will think "Sharon would be interested in this" and tell me about the people they've met and the things they've seen.
Obviously, nobody thinks about me enough to actually want to tell me things. Oh, they'll reply to my messages and tell me new things while they're doing it, but it seems no one sees anything and thinks "must tell Sharon." Or no one thinks "I wonder what Sharon would make of this" and sends me a text message to ask me.
This also results in me feeling increasingly out of the loop - they know what's going on in my life, but I don't really know what's going on in theirs (mind you, I think I've managed to get left out of every loop ever created in the history of loops).
A couple of people do, occasionally, send me a message of some description without my sending one to them first, but this is not a regular event.
I'm really very easily pleased. All you have to do to make me feel loved and wanted is give me the impression you think about me from time to time. Nothing big and earth-shattering - just an indication that I've crossed your mind.
That's not too much to ask, is it?
Oh, they do if I'm physically near them (standing in the room and all that), but apparently not if it involves a phone call or an email. Of the friends and family with whom I keep in contact, I can count on one hand the number of times they've contacted me first.
Every now and then I get into a "well I'll just stop contacting them, then - then we'll see if they care enough to get in contact with me" kind of mood.
Unfortunately, I can't shake the feeling that it's purely by virtue of my own stubbornness that I speak to these people at all, and should I stop initiating conversations they will rapidly become people I used to talk to, followed in due course by becoming people I used to know.
The thing is, I usually start a conversation with them because something made me think of them. I see something and think to myself "Tom would have gotten a kick out of that" so I write an email to Tom to tell him about it. Or I'll start writing an email to Tom and think "actually, this is news I wouldn't mind sharing with Dick and Harriet, too", so I'll turn it into a group letter and send it to everyone with whom I wish to keep up-to-date.
I do this in the vain hope that they will also want me to know about what's happening in their lives - that they will think "Sharon would be interested in this" and tell me about the people they've met and the things they've seen.
Obviously, nobody thinks about me enough to actually want to tell me things. Oh, they'll reply to my messages and tell me new things while they're doing it, but it seems no one sees anything and thinks "must tell Sharon." Or no one thinks "I wonder what Sharon would make of this" and sends me a text message to ask me.
This also results in me feeling increasingly out of the loop - they know what's going on in my life, but I don't really know what's going on in theirs (mind you, I think I've managed to get left out of every loop ever created in the history of loops).
A couple of people do, occasionally, send me a message of some description without my sending one to them first, but this is not a regular event.
I'm really very easily pleased. All you have to do to make me feel loved and wanted is give me the impression you think about me from time to time. Nothing big and earth-shattering - just an indication that I've crossed your mind.
That's not too much to ask, is it?
Monday, April 7, 2008
Highlight/Lowlight
This week's highlight:
The Dirt 'n' Dust Festival. I had a blast. I came last in the triathlon, but I finished it (which was apparently more than some other people did). I made new friends and met interesting people. I found out rodeos aren't as boring as I thought they'd be. I was interviewed for the Queensland Weekender because my stuff was crap (literally - they singled me out for an interview because I wasn't a professional triathlete and my stuff was pathetic). I wore one of the ugliest things I've ever worn - in public, no less. There's probably footage of me floating around somewhere with about twenty cars lined up behind me. What larks, eh? What larks.
This week's lowlight:
I've managed to snap off part of the cap on my front tooth. Eating bacon for breakfast the day after the tri. How do you like those bananas? I manage to survive "Queensland's toughest triathlon" without even getting sunburnt (You'll Love Coles' Sports Gel sunblock rocks), but the next day I break a tooth eating breakfast. My mouth feels annoying. It will continue to feel annoying until I can get to the dentist tomorrow afternoon.
*Sigh*
The Dirt 'n' Dust Festival. I had a blast. I came last in the triathlon, but I finished it (which was apparently more than some other people did). I made new friends and met interesting people. I found out rodeos aren't as boring as I thought they'd be. I was interviewed for the Queensland Weekender because my stuff was crap (literally - they singled me out for an interview because I wasn't a professional triathlete and my stuff was pathetic). I wore one of the ugliest things I've ever worn - in public, no less. There's probably footage of me floating around somewhere with about twenty cars lined up behind me. What larks, eh? What larks.
This week's lowlight:
I've managed to snap off part of the cap on my front tooth. Eating bacon for breakfast the day after the tri. How do you like those bananas? I manage to survive "Queensland's toughest triathlon" without even getting sunburnt (You'll Love Coles' Sports Gel sunblock rocks), but the next day I break a tooth eating breakfast. My mouth feels annoying. It will continue to feel annoying until I can get to the dentist tomorrow afternoon.
*Sigh*
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Reconciliation
More on dl:
Okay, I've calmed down slightly from my minor conniption the other day involving decilitres in Eastern European recipes.
After my initial "why would anyone measure flour in litres?" rant I remembered how much I hate recipes that measure dry ingredients in grams (or kilos, to keep with the litres).
Generally speaking, I avoid recipes that stipulate 135g flour or 200g sugar in favour of ones that ask for cup measurements due to the fact that I don't own a set of kitchen scales but I do have a perfectly adequate collection of measuring cups.
Now cups are, essentially, liquid measurements. It is, clearly, no less ridiculous to put 2dl of flour into a recipe than it would be to put 250ml (or 8floz - standard cup measurements in Australia).
In fact, it is much less obnoxious than trying to weigh all of your dry ingredients or guess how much of a cup 125g of breadcrumbs might be.
So, I guess, after all, this habit of measuring dry ingredients in decilitres is not only not ridiculous, but much more sensible than the way a lot of western Cook books do it.
So bring on the dl, you Eesti cookbooks. I'll buy a couple of new measuring cups.
Okay, I've calmed down slightly from my minor conniption the other day involving decilitres in Eastern European recipes.
After my initial "why would anyone measure flour in litres?" rant I remembered how much I hate recipes that measure dry ingredients in grams (or kilos, to keep with the litres).
Generally speaking, I avoid recipes that stipulate 135g flour or 200g sugar in favour of ones that ask for cup measurements due to the fact that I don't own a set of kitchen scales but I do have a perfectly adequate collection of measuring cups.
Now cups are, essentially, liquid measurements. It is, clearly, no less ridiculous to put 2dl of flour into a recipe than it would be to put 250ml (or 8floz - standard cup measurements in Australia).
In fact, it is much less obnoxious than trying to weigh all of your dry ingredients or guess how much of a cup 125g of breadcrumbs might be.
So, I guess, after all, this habit of measuring dry ingredients in decilitres is not only not ridiculous, but much more sensible than the way a lot of western Cook books do it.
So bring on the dl, you Eesti cookbooks. I'll buy a couple of new measuring cups.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)