Typists

 Hi there

above: old typewriter,  stock photo

Way back in the 1800s, there was a protest march through Manhattan.  By typists.  Or 'typewriters', as they were called in those days.

The protesting typists/typewriters were all men, objecting to women wanting to  take over this male role.  Oh goodness, when greedy bosses offered less salary to women than the salary that men were getting, the women snatched at the offers and the men got upset.

In the 1800s this takeover was definitely a triumph for women. It wasn't scrubbing floors, doing laundry, or being a house maid.  It was a break-through.  It was professional office work with better labour conditions - and, yes, better pay - than any maid-servant job could match.

So, women the world over became typists....

Now .. Think to the 1990s and the advent of computers into the women's typing haven.  Some business firms started calling typists 'word processors' (my typing pool even had that name put on a sign on our door, much to the hysterical laughter of the 'girls').

Then the job title changed again:  'data input operators' ...

And men perked up their ears.  The modern guy didn't want to be a typist, with its 'girlie' implications but, hey, being someone who input data sounded masculine enough, right?

And as fast as the snap of fingers, men were rushing to become typists (oops, sorry, I mean Data Input Operators, or any other title that sounded as away from 'typist' as a word could get).

Full circle, people......?

In place of those naughty words...

 Hi there

Let me set the picture:  It's the 1960's, a government typing pool comprised of, say, a dozen typists.  When typing mistakes on (foolscap) paper are made, all that can be used to erase them is, well, an erasure (or a 'rubber' in that decade's vernacular).  Some typists would erase the mistake along with a sad sigh, others muttered  something angrily under their breath, citing that the job in question would have to be retyped.   Many typists shouted, "Fudge!"

At the age of 16, I didn't know that "Fudge!" represented a naughty word, but looking back, I'm surprised that noone told the typists off about using it.

During my early time in the pool, one typist did come up with my favourite typing exclamation phrase of all time:

"Oh, bunny rabbits and toadstools!"  

Thanks, Francie, that's a cute keeper.

Not perhaps as cute though as when I heard one annoyed lady on a reality show shout out, "For the love of little bunnies!".  I was in heaven over such a phrase.  I now use it all the time.  There's something about bunny rabbits ...

        cuteness overload?  Who cares if this isn't Easter?  Altogether now, "Ahhhhh.."

Books. And me as a kid...

 Hi there

Well, here is a photo of me at goodness-knows-what age? Nine?  Ten?  Younger? Was I in Wellington with my mum?  There were always street photographers down Manners Street.  They'd snap photos, hand you a card and you'd trot along to their studio to see the proof.

Or was I in New Plymouth?;  I lived in both Wellington and New Plymouth at about that age.

And I notice that I have library books in my basket.  New Plymouth was the real start of my discovering reading.  And it was Enid Blyton who did it.  At New Plymouth's Carnegie Library.

 My previous Newtown Library in Wellington had outlawed everything Blyton, except for the one book in which children staggered under burdens growing from their shoulders, each burden size representing things the child had done wrong.  Burdens could grow bigger by the day.

Anyway, thank goodness for the Carnegie Library.  I hoovered up those Blyton books, dozens and dozens of them.  I went to the library Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, right after school, cycling my little legs off to get home to start reading.  Darn it, why was I only allowed three books per visit?  

Enid Blyton was my awakening to reading  - 

LEARNING TO READ

I remember the look

of the unreadable page

the difficult jumble

& then the page

became transparent

& then the page

ceased to exist

at last I was riding this bicycle all by myself

     (by Cilla McQueen, NZ poet. Published in NZ School Journal)

I heart Cats

 Hi there

I love cats so much.  If I see one down the street I go all goo-y trying to pat the animal.  And crooning to it in baby language.  So embarrassing if a passerby stares at me quizzingly.

But let's talk about cat videos on You Tube.  How come I look at one video that leads to me looking at 'just one more', which leads to three, then four, then one hundred...  Me, I thought I was just addicted to Diet Coke but now it seems to be cat videos as well.  All cats:  zoomy ginger cats, fluffy cats, tabby cats, tuxedo cats, snobby cats, and not forgetting the thoroughly mischievous Siamese cat (RIP, my beautiful StarGirl).

I am such a softie.

above: StarGirl and me, when she was just a kitten.

Musicals in Sydney

 Hi there

When I was in Sydney last week, I saw three shows:  

Back to the Future - the musical

Goodness, the special effects in this show were the best I'd seen in any musical.  The DeLorean car was definitely the star. At the end when Marty had to drive the car at exactly 88 mph to get through the time barrier whilst simultaneously Doc Brown was trying to get to the top of the clock tower, and all in the middle of  a lightening strike....?   Well, I would have one hundred percent sworn that the car was speeding, skidding along roads, turning corners, and not in a theatre at all. There was noise, and light, and rain, and darkness, and the speedometer registering the mileage neon-like to the audience.  And Doc Brown doing his thing up there on the clock tower....  And the car flew.   Wow.

above:  me, standing in front of an outdoor poster advertising "Back to the Future - the musical".  The poster is made to look as if the DeLorean car has crashed through it.

above:  Before the show has started.  No swishy curtain, just the title.

Calamity Jane - the musical

Oh, I so loved this.  Well, I've also loved the songs in the movie musical, though when I re-watched the movie a good 40 years later, I was stunned that it was so not politically correct in many places (see earlier blog).  Several lines of song and dialogue were changed in this stage adaptation to appeal more to modern audiences.

The show was in The Studio at the Sydney Opera House, a small venue that I believe had once been a storage area under the high dome.  The whole inside of the theatre was done up like a western saloon. The stage was really small and the cast did most of the acting away from that stage.  They walked, strode, argued, sang in the aisles and around the tables.  I was sitting right in the front row of the entrance aisle and just behind the tables and chairs.

above:  inside The Studio theatre at the Sydney Opera House.  Calamity Jane - the musical

above.  Side view of the Sydney Opera House.  The Studio theatre is under a dome.

Calamity Jane made her entrance, singing, and as she sang she shook hands with people in my row.  Including ME!   Then later on, when there was a sort of hoedown going on, the bar floozie pulled me up from my seat and we did a jig.  My attending senior improv classes had prepared me well.  I noticed the actress only chose women to dance with her.

A guy in a front table had a bartender part.  He had to read a line from a card held out in front of him.  And when he said "What's Your Poison?" to a cowboy, all of the audience cheered.

Here You Come Again

This musical is about a sad young man who's fave singer is Dolly Parton.  In moments of crisis she appears to give him advice and, my gosh, she sounded just like Dolly when she both sang the most-loved songs and when she spoke.  Perfect.

NB:  I've got to find out how to get rid of the automatic underlining and that bold print...

My Sydney trip, part 1

 Hi there

I returned yesterday from Sydney.  I went there to see "Back to the Future - the musical" and "Calamity Jane - the musical".  And when I got to Sydney I discovered that it was the second to last day for "Here You Come Again", a musical, with Dolly Parton as a main character. Because I'd booked at the box office and I would be attending  the next day, I got my seat for half price; I love this about booking Australian shows.  Oh, and more about the shows in "My Sydney Trip, Part 2"

So ...  it was very very very hot in Sydney.  Now, it has to be remembered that October is Spring in both New Zealand and Australia but in Sydney whilst I was there the temperature went up to 35c.  It never got lower than 24c.  On the 35c day, the temp hit an all-time-high for a day in October.  On the same day in Wellington, it was 15c.

And I got dehydrated at the start of my holiday.  Terribly.  With all the symptoms that go with being dehydrated.  I went to the pharmacy and was given some dehydration sachets and told to not eat anything for a day, except dry toast.  I couldn't access dry toast so I bought a packet of Cruskits from the supermarket instead.  And I drank so much water I thought I was going to drown from the inside. I figured the "not eat anything for a day" order was counting a day as 12 hours.  So exactly 12 hours later, I sat down to the Australian dish of grilled barramundi fish. Surely, barramundi was bland enough not to make me sick.  I had barramundi every day on holiday.  Sigh.

I felt all airy-fairy the whole time I was away.  I still managed to go over to Manly for a walk along my favourite path (turn left as you come out of the ferry terminal), but there were flies everywhere and I had to keep the walk short.  I guess fly breeding season is in the spring.

I also strolled Circular Quay, looking for a place to get a good bland meal.  Couldn't find a place.

above: Sydney Opera House.  Photo taken from The Rocks area. The poles are not poles.  They're palm trees. Or they could be New Zealand cabbage trees, I know that several seaside resorts in the United Kingdom have planted our cabbage trees and pretended they were palm trees.

Photo taken from Nick's Restaurant at Darling Harbour.  First time in my life a waiter has whipped out my serviette from under the cutlery on my table, shook it open in one theatrically grand flourish, then elegantly dropped the serviette into my lap.  Great drama.

Back to the Future - the musical

 Hi there

I'm back to my future after a week in Sydney where I went to see "Back to the Future - the musical".  I just got home about half an hour ago.  The plane landed at midnight.  I will write more about my trjp tomorrow.  Look after yourselves...