Why do People always laugh over a broken toe (I've laughed too, lots of times)?

 Hi there

About 8 weeks ago when I was at the Devon Hotel in New Plymouth, I stubbed my big toe on the castor of a room chair.  It was a heavy chair and I was trying to move it.

My toe bled, it hurt...

It hurt for the next 8 weeks.  The blood was under my toenail. My toenail looked horrendous.  But being the brave, heroic person I am, I gritted my teeth, and lived with it all.

Finally when I couldn't stand the blankets across my toe when I was trying to sleep, I went to the doctor.  

He sent me for an x-ray.  Yes.... a broken toe.

Out of all the bones in a person's body, the toes must be the bones that attract the most hilarity.

"Hahahaha, you've broken your toe.  You're hobbling.  Don't expect sympathy, it's only a toe..."

My friends really love me...

I have to bind the big toe to it's immediate neighbour, which is more trouble than it's worth. It's a difficult exercise, this binding-bandaging thing, and I can never get the binding to stay in the right place. 

The binding is either too tight or too loose.  I can't pull the sticky bandage stuff off without fighting over it for about 15 minutes and causing more pain than the original toe trouble.  For comfort, I have to put a thick plaster or cotton wool between the toes, an operation that I've mucked up so many times. In just 4 days I've gone through two balls of plaster wrappings. Believe me, it's so hard to become a professional toe-wrapper-upper...

above"  the hateful chair that attacked me.

I'm a Terrible hand-writer. Did Pitmanscript help?

 Hi there

Way back in secondary school I got the dubious title of being The Worst Hand-Writer in my class.  I was the only pupil to fail the Chamber of Commerce Hand-Writing Exam.  I have always been a sloppy hand-writer.  Or 'joined-up writing' as teachers in primer classes tend to call it.

When I grew up - I was in my late thirties - I took up the then 'new' style of shorthand called "Pitmanscript",  My hand-writing became worse; I had been warned this would happen before I started teaching myself the subject at home.  My already terrible penmanship did deteriorate at a rate of knots.

The other day, I decided to hand-write a letter to a friend.  It was an important letter, on real lined writing paper.  I wanted to show her exactly how important I felt about all the work she had put into being my friend.  I wasn't going to buy a card, or telephone, or email, or text....

But then came the realisation.  I couldn't do joined-up writing anymore!  Pitmanscript had ruined me.

Pitmanscript has gone the way of the earlier Pitman's shorthand and Gregg's shorthand processes.   I think Pitmanscript was Pitman's last stand at trying to keep the process going.  I did pass the Trades Certification Board Shorthand Exam. 

But my hand-writing, now, is terrible.

          above:  the english version, plus the Pitmanscript version.  Book 3. The english take actually goes over the page, and is quite long.

The great thing about Pitmanscript, and unlike original Pitman's shorthand, is that there are no strict rules about what you must put down.  If you can make up something so a sentence is faster, easier for you, just do it.  This worked for me. By the time I sat my TCB exam, a lot of the original learning had disappeared.  I wasn't judged for doing it differently.

above photo: from the 2000 Most Common Words book. I learnt all the words off-by-heart, studying them every day.

above photo.  the very first exercise in Pitmanscript Book 1

As usual, sorry about the photography.

Singers wearng sunglasses on stage

 Hi there.

When I was young in the early 1960s, I went to pop shows.  Kiwi entrepreneurs like Harry M. Miller were beginning to realise there was a market in New Zealand for overseas pop idols.  They started bringing in these singers by the plane-load.

I was miffed that out of dozens upon dozens of singers that I saw, there were two who wore sunglasses on stage.

The first was Roy Orbison. I found out later he truly had bad eyesight so I can forgive him now.  But it wasn't so much the dark glasses that were annoying, but also that he never moved.  Never so much as the proverbial muscle.  Orbison, in front of thousands of fans, was like a statue the entire time he was on stage which, in those days, was probably 20 minutes to half-an-hour. And every fan had paid about 30 shillings for a seat.

Fans want to see a singer's face.  They want to see movements, head turns, legs jiggling, greetings to the crowd, foot tapping.  They can see statues in their gran's front garden. Or at Zombie-Con.

Another star who wore sunglasses on stage was the singer Billy J Kramer ("Little Children").  I was in love with the music of the time and very impressionable.  When I couldn't properly see Kramer's face because of  his sunglasses and also poor lighting, I sprang from my seat and ran into the aisle of the Wellington Town Hall auditorium, along with hundreds of others.  We didn't want to rip him apart, we just wanted to see his face more clearly. Apparently, no overseas singer had caused such a commotion before.  Seat-leaving was a giant no-no at the Wellington Town Hall.

The show was shut down.

Later, I read that the reason Kramer had been wearing sunglasses and the lighting was more darker than usual for a pop show was because Kramer had got in an altercation the day before. The sunglasses and dim lighting were to cover up that he had a black eye.

I felt I never got my thirty shillings-worth at either Orbison's or Kramer's show.

 

Bermuda Triangle

 Hi there

I am positive that my house is the South Pacific branch of The Bermuda Triangle.  Things go missing. A lot.

Pens, especially.  And combs.  I am forever buying new ones. 

The weird thing is that, unlike the original Triangle, my pens, combs, what-have-you, usually turn up again.  As if by magic, they appear at the back of a cupboard, in a bag I haven't used for years, under the computer keyboard, amongst my bedclothes....

When visitors come to my place, I always warn them -

 "please check thoroughly that you haven't left anything behind."

 " No, no, " they always say.  "I have everything."

 " Are you sure? "

 "Yep." 

 And my visitors go on their merry way.  Later, I discover their sun- glasses.  Or a jacket.  Or a ream of business papers.  My Miramar branch of the Bermuda Triangle  is snaffling up objects like nobody's business...

"Gone Girl" movie

 Hi there

Have any of you noticed that many of the actresses from Hollywood nowadays look sort of ... the same?

A few years back, I saw the movie "Gone Girl".  I am so embarrassed to admit it, but it wasn't until nearly the end of the movie that I had a sudden realisation about a woman in a lead role...

Throughout the movie I had been looking at two actresses, not one!  Every time I saw a blonde woman on screen I had completely thought of her as just the one actress playing one character.  Not two different women.  Indeed, I had been thinking that there was a heck of a lot of mystery surrounding her but, oh well, everything would be explained by movie's end.

So, do I blame the movie's editor, the writer, the cinematographer, the producer, the casting director, my brain?   Was it because both actresses had that blonde, slender, generic Hollywood look?; Probably.  But, i'll try to be more careful in future with my public  judgement.  Repeat after me now: all blondes do not look alike...

*****

Today, Monday 27 July.  I woke up to the freezing cold.  The tv announced that, around New Zealand, it was the coldest day so far this winter.  

I have a very warm house, today has been the only day this winter I put on a heater.

I rang up my friend. "I am sooooooooo cold."  I whimpered.  I was cuddled under my flannelette sheets, with my electric blanket full on. I was wearing fingerless gloves to hold up my Kindle.

But at noon the sky got blue and I decided I would go to the beach for a swim.  The young lady who swims most early mornings and writes the sea temperature on a board at Hataitai Beach, had scrawled up "7c".

!!!!!!!!!***??????

oh, well ....  I had a swim.  The water was extremely cold.

Photographers

 Hi there

I want you to imagine the conversation between photographers, paparazzi or whoever is waiting outside The Old Bailey, or the High Court, or where someone has just been sentenced for some really heinous crime - 

"Oi, Bert, when's the van comin' out with the prisoner in it?  I want a photo through a window."

"Yeah, me too.  It'll be worth thousands from The Sun or The Mirror.  Cross fingers, Lord Heathshire gives us a snarl..."

"A naughty gesture..."

"He moons us..."

And why is it, my four dear readers, that even though we always see photographers chasing police vans after a court appearance, and those photographers are frantically snapping their cameras against windows ... we never ever see a photo of the prisoner encased in the vehicle.

The windows are obviously darkened.  Surely, the photographers have realised after years of running alongside the vans, that no photo can be obtainable.  All they will have to show for it, after all that running, puffing, and perfectly imitating the most vehicle-chasing pet labrador, will be half-a-dozen black smudgy photos?

And yet, they still make an attempt for that photo, the one that will bring in millions -

The second the doors from the Court car yard start to swing open, and there's a glimpse of a police van -

"Bert-bert-BERT! There's the van-   Get in there-"

Bert and the other photographers leap into the fray, frantically snapping their cameras.  These guys know they'll never get a good photo but it's a Pavlovian response;  they've been doing this action for so many years that, by now, they don't understand to do anything else...

Bliss their little celebrity-chasing hearts

Sir Sam Neill

Rest in Peace, Sam.  A great kiwi.  A great actor.  A great person.