Local Teen has "Worst Weekend of his Life"

Here's a little something I wrote in the style of the Onion. Hopefully parents of teens will smile a little.

Local preteen, Matt Lindstrom had what he described to his friends as “the worst weekend of my life” when he was forced to accompany his parents, Nancy and Peter on a weekend away in sunny Eastern Washington.

Speaking from their comfortable home in Seattle, Matt 13, confirmed that he had been coerced to spend time with his parents with promises of “eating pizza and swimming in the river” and of “fun times”. He confirmed that whilst he did, indeed, eat some delicious pepperoni pizza and drink more sodas than his parents normally allowed, the promised “fun times” never materialized. And the water in the river was very cold. He would much rather have been lying in bed texting his friends about what a boring day he was having. On the way home he even had to stop for what his parents described as “possibly the best BBQ pork ever”, which wasted yet another hour of his life.

At the time of writing, Matt’s parents were thought to have no idea of the suffering their youngest was forced to go through, telling their friends that they had all had “a great time”.

Rumors of a proposed family visit to the local museum have prompted Matt to complain loudly that he “never gets to do anything I want” and Skype all the other local teens who have formed a support group to help each other through these difficult times.

A Moving Piano Story

How do you move a piano up the stairs? Hire a bunch of strong guys to manhandle it up? That will work. Use a slide-and-pulley system, as a neighbor once did? If you have the technical skills, that will also work. Or maybe you decide, since you have neither a superior knowledge of engineering nor the money for strong guys, that you will simply push it up, Laurel and Hardy style. That’s the option my parents chose. One day, they decreed that the old upright piano was to move upstairs…

The “why?” is still debated among family members. Was it my constant practicing of Schubert’s “Who is Sylvia?” or my rendition of “Little Brown Jug (how I love thee)”? Or was it simply to make way for a larger sofa? We shall never know.

And so they start - pushing and shoving, grunting and groaning. After about ten minutes the piano is finally in the hall, at the bottom of the stairs right by the ornate frosted glass front door - newly and very proudly - installed. Before I go on I need to briefly mention that my parents are wearing their slippers – not sturdy footwear – not even after the recent encounter between Dad’s big toe and a rather unyielding brick¹.

Having got this far they are encouraged by their progress, and press on. By this time, my two younger siblings and I (a nonplussed eleven year old) are watching from the safety of the space under the staircase². Mum is at the top of the piano, pulling, and Dad is underneath, pushing. Amazingly, the piano starts up the stairs. Much heaving and coordinated shoving ensues and yes up it staggers, bit by bit, step by step. It climbs up six or seven steps. We creep out from behind our shelter. It’s going well. Maybe our parents aren’t so crazy.

Then it happens. Mum suddenly slips and loosens her grip. The lower end of the piano shifts slightly onto Dad’s unprotected toe. (Is it the same one he broke earlier? Nobody ever asks). He cries out in pain and then he lets go. This is not good. No one says anything as the family piano slides elegantly down those half a dozen stairs and right out through our - newly installed - glass front door. Smash! Yes the piano is now firmly wedged half in and half out of the door; surrounded by broken glass. Only then does the shouting start.

Did Dad find a new respect for using the right tools, professional movers or even protective footwear? No he did not. But that’s the nature of things. The piano, of course, reclaimed its rightful place downstairs. As for me, I gave up on “Little Brown Jug” – it was time to move on.

¹Dad, of course in his slippers, was playing football with my brother. Whilst showing my brother a particularly tricky shot at goal, Dad managed to kick a brick (this was probably the brick destined to keep the oven door closed for many years – another story). He broke his big toe and it was very painful.

²Our teachers, still affected by the Second World War, tell us if the bombs drop you need to go under the stairs as this is the strongest part of the house.

Scrabble

I am currently taking on all comers in online Scrabble on FB. That is to say I am playing a couple of random people and a friend's mother, who is giving me a good run for my money.

There's an interesting blog piece on Scrabble, exalting more women to give it a go, here. I watched the documentary Word Wars and it was fascinating. It features a group of people as they try and win the 2002 National Scrabble Championship. Something I found surprising is that they just memorize words (particularly all of the two letter ones allowed) but they don't know the meanings of them. One said he started learning the meanings but realized that he just didn't have the memory space for all of that. I assumed they would all be interested in the meanings and uses of obscure words as well as playing Scrabble; but no. Anyway, if you like word games I would recommend this documentary. I just borrowed the dvd from the library; easy peasy.

Here's the YouTube trailer:

Counting Chickens: is Amazon in the hen house?

Idly browsing through the latest fluffy animal videos and reading about why even one workout will lengthen your life (another desperate plea for us to get off our derrieres),  I come across what I presume is another funny Onion article. Apparently Amazon, our favorite book and everything else online emporium, thinks it can to ship things to you before you even know that you want them. But no it's not the Onion, it's the New York Times. And several other sites confirm it to be true. It's called anticipatory shipping. Doesn't trip off the tongue but describes exactly what it is. So there you are sitting at your desk or eating breakfast or whatever and the door bell goes. UPS has left you something - you open it up and there it is - that new book or bag of pet food that you want but hadn't thought about yet. Or a gift for your sister or mother - exactly what they wanted and just before their special day. Good for you - you'll get brownie points for being on time with a present they really love. This could really enhance your life. Either that or your relatives will be creeped out by the new you.

I ask my friends on Facebook what they think - is it scary or just the logical extension of what Amazon is doing anyway, and not scary. The overwhelming response (both of them) is that it's not scary. "So you're telling me if I hover over a new book release, I just might get it in the mail? AWESOME!" one person says. Maybe everyone is so used to their shopping and browsing habits being recorded it's just inevitable that something like this is going to come along.

Do I care that someone else knows more about me than maybe I do? Yes and no. Companies like amazon have always had this type of data, the difference now being that it's now much easier to collate and draw conclusions about. If it gives me an advantage then great! But equally I worry about data being bandied around without respect. I hope that the data is being protected because I don't want someone stealing from my bank account. I am also a bit wary of people being persuaded to spend more money than they would normally. After all amazon needs people to spend money to keep their profits coming in. 

The other thing I wonder is - what is next for amazon? We know they're considering delivery by drones. What about smart packaging? I want my packages to unwrap themselves or have the packaging dissolve so I don't have to break up the box and dispose of it myself. Or maybe the opposite will happen - they'll hand deliver and then take away the packaging for me? Or the drones will deliver stuff unwrapped and ready to go? Creepy or not amazon is certainly pushing the boundaries.

In a Redbrigde Roundabout Way

Several of my British friends have been in contact re the use of the word "snifter" mostly to point out that "snifter" should be used in the context of having a small nip of something strong like brandy as a way of stealing oneself to do something unpleasant like talking to strangers on the bus and the like. Some have pointed out that I should have used the word "digestif" instead or even "liquor coffee" although I suspect this second term has fallen out of favor much like the Berni Inn chain itself. When I was a young thing these liquor coffees were the height of sophistication. Which bring me onto the next topic - "class". Am I really from east of Redbridge - because we all know what that means. Except most of the world doesn't actually. And I also know that before even reading the blog you can tell the class :)

For those of you nostalgic for roundabouts and perhaps Redbridge here is the famous Redbridge Roundabout sign:

Interesting fact. We lived next door to someone who went to school with Dudley Moore. Why do I mention Dudley Moore? Because he definitely lived east of Redbridge; Dagenham if I remember rightly. Anyway, apparently he used to be asked to play the piano at assembly and everyone could tell he was very talented and the music teacher encouraged him. So there's one for teachers again - thank you!

Reading List

For the book club in March we have to read "The Devil in the White City" by Erik Larson, always a light read. Apparently this is a true story about the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago and there's a "cunning serial killer" and some other bloke who is organizing the fair. Until I read the blurb I was thinking "other" White City (in London) where, oddly, I used to work until they closed the labs down. But it's nothing to do with that thank goodness.

Great Weekend (I think)

Great weekend. Saw Los Lobos at the Triple door and got polaxed by a couple of café diablos - highly recommended by the way - the diablos and Los Lobos. I emailed a friend with the mysterious message "Wednesday 10am :)" after having had said after dinner snifter. Not sure what I was thinking. No change there. Had to check my sent messages and fortunately she was the only one I emailed and she's used to my odd ways, being from somewhere east of Redbridge herself. 

Harangued by my fitbit I took Sam the energetic sharpei for a long walk. There was an incident when a much smaller fluffy dog trying to bite his legs. Fortunately both dogs were on a leash so nothing got out of hand. He's only been attacked once by a great dane who was off leash and Sam sorted him out - it was a bit scary with all the snarling but the large dog ran off pretty sharpish when Sam started to fight back.

And of course I must mention the Sea Hawks. Had to cook a large pot of chilli to celebrate. No idea of the rules at all. Can't follow the timing either - the last 10 minutes took about 30 - just like a Microsoft update - and then the game was called whilst there were still 7 or 8 seconds to go. Yes I shall be using "whilst" since I know it raises a smile and I can't bring myself to use the more common "while" except when I am saying things like "see you in a while" or "dinner will be ready in a while" etc etc. Anyway good games by the Hawks even though I won't be letting my sons play it.

Here is Sam FYI.

In our house the dogs sit on the sofas and the humans lie on the floor