.......using the wrong emoji

Emojis in emails have never been a good fit - email is a word media, with attachments that might be pictures. Emojis also seem a little inappropriate in emails - "she can't be bothered to say she is happy, she has to send me a smiling face." Or maybe - "he sent me a sad-faced emoji, but is he actually sad?"

Many people send an emoji as part of a WhatsApp message, which I am quite happy with. The problem I have, shared with some celebs in the news recently, is choosing the right one. I mainly use  😀 😊😕😑, but people send me really interesting emojis. Where do they find them? Back to the theme. Maybe you have just selected the wrong one by accident or carelessness. Maybe it is just a bad choice. The reader will always think the latter.  One hundred well-crafted words could be undermined by the wrong emoji. Is it worth the risk?

🙍

......searching for something to listen to on the radio.

Yesterday I needed to take a short drive to collect an item from the supermarket. Five minutes out and everything stops. What is it? Roadworks, an accident, a diversion? No problem, I've got a reasonable sound system. Let's see what's on the radio!

Switch on, select FM, set the volume level - all from the comfort of my steering wheel.  I recognise that - Mahler's second. No, this is not a day for jumping off the bridge. I could wait and see what comes next - but for how long? Press search. Phil Collins - easy lover. This is great, it perks me up. I sing along. I am Phil Bailey. But then it finishes and there is some rap song coming out of four corners of the car. No thanks. Press search. A very serious and committed woman is telling me about teething problems with one-year-olds. She has a pleasant upper-middle-class style. Definitely a mid-thirties version of Joan Bakewell. Interesting, but this content will probably not be of any value to me - I had better move on. A discussion. What are they talking about? Brexit? No, but something about trading in Europe and Russia. Press. Sade, you have saved my life. I cannot see any diamond lights but I reckon I am a smooth operator.

The traffic moves on. 

.....looking over your shoulder

 

I cannot physically do this with any degree of comfort. Youngsters can. I think I can still look along my shoulder, although don't have many reasons to do so nowadays. I used to run a bit - a club half marathon road runner with a PB of 1 hour 19 minutes. The advice from our coach - Ron - was to always focus on the road ahead. "Never look over your shoulder because you cannot control what is happening behind you. In any case, if you do you will probably miss some crack in the pavement and trip over." Wise words, indeed.

Of course, one needs to be careful when looking at a contentious article in the Guardian or New York Times on the Internet that someone is not looking over your shoulder. You might be reported to the Literature Police and made to sit in a cell and read three editions of The National Enquirer.

It is probably a good thing, though, that stone-age people looked over their shoulders, for the continuation of the species. For that generation, the ever-present sabre-toothed tiger was a problem. However, I have seen pictures of stone-age people that suggested a very small neck - almost no neck, in fact. Therefore looking over the shoulder probably presented a few medical issues relating to the sternocleidomastoid muscle.

Have you ever worked in an organisation where you are continuously looking over your shoulder? Many people have reported that they have, particularly in the UK. Is this positive or negative? I would say the latter.

.... misplacing your favourite notebook

 

By notebook, I mean the paper version. I have got a tablet, so I could jot down my notes into a notepad application, or perhaps even my phone. I have tried it, but I am not consistent enough - maybe it is on charge, in another room, all kinds of excuses for not putting down something vital onto it at the right time. 

The paper version services me best, but then, from time to time I have no idea where I last left the favoured book. I lost it for three weeks, eventually found hidden in the laundry room, but how it got there is a complete mystery.

.....finding a Facebook page with your blog title

I have no connection with the Facebook page entitled "thereisnothingworsethan". I am not the author of this Facebook site and am not responsible for anything posted on to it.

....thinking you know better than Microsoft

I teach online - well, where else can you teach? My laptop is okay for that - an HP I3, although from time to time the cursor seems to freeze for a few seconds. I decided to connect up a full-sized keyboard and it turned out to be a good decision once I had worked out how to place everything. Then the next stage, connecting a large screen Acer monitor proved to be not so trouble-free. I had used this high-resolution monitor with an Acer PC with NVIDIA graphics and it was great for all kinds of software - even the only game I have played, Super Mario. 

I switched on the laptop, connected up the monitor and thought I was now ready to Zoom. I did my stuff with Windows settings but the screen quality was just not there. The auto settings on the monitor didn't improve the situation. I played around with the screen graphics software and thought I had mastered it - but no, too light, too dark, good for text - bad for graphics and the other way around. I put it back in the cupboard. It was not usable as I use a lot of PDF pages with graphics and text when I teach and it strained my eyes. 

That was two months ago. It kept get worrying me, so I decided on one last try. I connected up the monitor to the PC and power supply, switched on the laptop and the large screen came to life with an incredibly clear image. Text - amazing, graphics - I could see fine detail in the images that I had not seen before. Was it a fluke? I switched off and on and I signed in - still everything is amazingly clear. Why? Then I work it out. Windows had set up the monitor for me. I wasted hours with the HP and Windows graphics software settings trying to do it. However, it is no use crying over spilt milk. Quite clearly, there is nothing worse than thinking you know better than Microsoft.

... getting hot feet

As regular readers will know, I have a thing about idioms. I might say, casually, to an acquaintance, "I had planned to row across the Atlantic this summer, but now I have cold feet." However, recently, as happens these days, I was looking at a health website. Surprisingly, to me at least, there was an article about people getting hot feet at night and informing us about 15 ways that sufferers can get relief from this affliction.

One proposed solution was to wear socks in bed. I had previously thought that wearing socks at night was a solution to having cold feet. However, wearing socks can now cool down your feet. Not any socks, of course, but cold therapy socks. Apparently, they are ideal for keeping your feet cool while you sleep. They are socks in which you insert gel packs that you have kept in your freezer. When you are ready to use them, you put the cold packs into the sock inserts. There is one insert at the bottom of the foot and the other on top. So, slip in your gel pack, put on your socks and a night of cold feet awaits you. 

There were a number of online reviews, many that praised the socks. One said that she was unable to sleep at night due to hot feet and described them as a lifesaver. She went on to say that all her life - she was 68 years old - she had suffered from sleep deprivation due to hot feet, and finally, she had found a cure.

Losing confidence about doing something special or different is a problem that most people experience. Due to Covid 19, I have cold feet about leaving the front door.  However, the more I read, the more I am beginning to think that there is nothing worse than having hot feet.

....being given a heads up.

People like to give you a heads up nowadays. "Let me give you a heads up," they say. Well, excuse me, if I say "no thank you, keep my or your head out of this. You can tell me some interesting facts, give me important information or share some insightful comments."

There are many things I would like someone to give me. If I was being given an all-electric saloon car, like a Prius or Toyota, I would say "thank you. I really appreciate it." There is nothing I would like more than to sit in a traffic jam next to a big SUV feeling very satisfied with my contribution to saving the planet. I would also like to be given a pat on the head - always welcome in these troubling times. What about being given free Internet access? If someone said to me "Let me give you free Internet access," that would be paradise, in fact.

Who was the first person to give a heads up? Was it a US president? Maybe Hollywood. Did a leading male actor ever give his leading lady a heads up? If so, where and when?

Of course, keep your head up, which means stay alert, is entirely acceptable. He held his head up high — maintained his dignity — great, I like it. 

Whenever anyone offers a heads up to you, then a firm refusal is required.

...not being able to return to a pleasant dream.

I often remember dreams. One that I had a few days ago started badly. I was waiting for the lift to come to my floor for a long time. When it did arrive, it was crowded but I squeezed in. There was a fellow in a wheelchair that kept looking at me. I wasn't happy. The door opened, I got out and was standing on the platform of a small country train station. It was sunny but just the right temperature. There was a small waiting room, and, interestingly, the railway tracks stopped at the ends of the platform. I was the only person on the platform. The next thing I remember is exploring the countryside around the station There were small shallow pools where the water was extremely pure and all were all tinted differently - in orange, pink, green, yellow, etc. This was against a backdrop of large deciduous trees and colourful meadows. I remember feeling completely safe and at peace with myself. Then I woke up. It was 5.30am. I was desperate to get back to sleep and rejoin the dream, but no, life is not that good.

…..not being recognised by your Iphone

Today Asha and I were at the beginning of our journey to the mall. Should we have been going to a crowded place in these days of the pandemic? Well, that is another question. Anyway, I was waiting outside our apartment block for her and time was progressing so I decided to call her. No answer. Again, no answer. When we did speak, she told me the reason for non-communication was that her new, top of the range iPhone 11 did not recognise her, and she had forgotten the passcode. The reason it didn’t recognise her was because she was wearing a mask.

So where was Siri, you might ask? Why was not possible to say to Siri – hey Siri, why doesn’t the phone recognise me? And why isn’t the phone clever enough to recognise its owner when they are wearing a mask? Charlie, our averagely intelligent Cavalier King Charles spaniel can.

...an interrupt in the internet signal in the middle of a Netflix binge-watch.

Asha and I have had too many marathon sessions for our own good. To start and finish a complete season in one session is, with dedication, achievable. On one occasion we started when there was still some daylight and finished when the sun was coming up. We were not proud of ourselves.

Scenario - you are three hours in, not actually aware of the time and anticipating a further two or three episodes when suddenly the screen freezes and that annoying rotating circle graphic appears. We wait - it doesn't go away. Asha is a Netflix guru and knows how to fix it, but then the binge-watch spell has been broken. We begin to think of that three-letter word beginning with "b". Then, logic takes over - why are we watching so much tonight, it will still be available tomorrow, should we even be watching this, we need the sleep, we are not getting any younger - all that sort of nonsense. Still, it has to be said. There's nothing worse than being electronically interrupted when you are watching Netflix.

...a blogspot that can't be found on Google

That is the current fate of my blog. I put in my complete blog title to Google and checked the first ten pages - nothing. References to "nothing" or "worse than" go back twenty years, but not to mine. Even though my blog is on Google, it can't find it! However, one search does work - "there is nothing worse than missing the last bus home", when typed in full. I am the only hit. Wow! I am an internet winner. I like this post - there is pathos, humour, psychology, social comment, nice original graphics. You should check it out. Perhaps you can help me make it back to page 3.

....not knowing what to do with your smartwatch

I bought it a year ago. It was in a knockdown bin in an electronics shop - I bought it on price alone. It turned out to be a Chinese clone of the Apple watch, but it only worked with software on Android phones. After three weeks of wearing, it seemed not to be working. Typically of me, I put at the back of the bedroom drawer and left it in peace. In the intervening period I have thought about it, but forgot where I had actually put it. Then, a few weeks ago my wife Asha produced it with the remark "I think this is yours."

I charged up the watch, it works fine, and have been wearing it every day since then. It feels like I am being modern, with it, hip, a bright young(ish) thing. I don't like the look of it - too clunky - but then how can I go against the tastes of the IT culture. I have now worked out the settings on the BT Notification software. It is a wonder that such a little thing can do so much. Apparently, about 2 billion smartwatches have been sold - even the village elders in the undiscovered tribes of the upper Amazon are wearing them.

I know how many steps I've taken today - certainly a lot more than Richard Hannay spoke about. But, what else to do with it other than talk about how wonderful it is? Everything on it has come from the phone via BlueTooth, so why don't I just look at that. Of course, it does mean that whilst teaching in class I can glance at my wrist and check on my emails, SMS and WhatsApp messages and a host of other notifications. Perhaps, however, it would be better if I was spending this time checking up on Nadia's questionable use of future perfect continuous in a third-person narrative. That being said, I will continue to look for a reason to be a wearer for a few more weeks. If it doesn't work out, then it is back to the bottom drawer for the Appal watch and a triumphant return for the Omega.

...a teacher not wearing a mask in the classroom.

With all the fear about the virus going around, everyone needs to wear a face mask. 100 per cent of the students in my class were wearing one during the last in-class lesson I had. Is a mask something like a hat that one might remove during the lesson? I don't think so.  I have a box of face masks - we bought some just before all the shops sold all their stock overnight. My wife suggested wearing a mask. It was already in my mind. Somehow or other, creative writing delivered through a mask seemed to send the wrong message in the past, but now it is quite normal and must be done. For a Maths teacher, however - no problem. This is a subject which is masked in mystery anyway.

living in a divided nation.

National politicians and people of influence around the world have now become enthusiastic about telling us everything there is to know of the perils of living in a divided nation. Apparently, this is happening around us.  I can understand the divisions of a few hundred years ago – Protestants and Catholics, Red Rose and White Rose, Jacobites and Williamites, monarchists and republicans, and so on. However, today's divisions can often seem to be more of an academic nature than a practical one. Have couples divorced in the UK when one spouse is a Brexit remainer and the other a leaver?  I think not.  Sunderland constituents were major Brexiters and Oxford constituents were not, but I don’t think there has been any violence in the lecture hall from students from Sunderland at Oxford University.

When there seems to be a divided nation then a lot of politicians think that the way to go is to "heal the divisions".  This means, I think, that everyone in a divided nation must be cured of divisive thoughts. Open-heart surgery, presumably.

Up to the age of 28, I lived in a divided East London. There were noticeable divisions into various sizeable communities - the racially-prejudiced bigots, the male chauvinists, the chronically violent, the criminally-minded, the disruptive jerks in schools, the bullies at work, and some other equally unpleasant communities. I don’t think I could have accepted their views in order to live in an undivided society. I am sure they wouldn’t have bought into mine.  Thankfully, for my sanity, that part of the nation was divided - from me - during the first thirty years of my life. 

However, those were the old days. Now, we are, for presumably good reasons, urged to live without divisions. As a paid-up member of the “complacency” community, I am quite prepared to acknowledge that some people think that there is nothing worse than living in a divided nation.

having a famous cricketer as Prime Minister

Unfortunately, of course, people will inevitably start using cricketing terms when discussing his behaviour in government.  Once this happens then any meaningful dialogue disappears. Here is a list of sentences that use some of my favourites.

He is not playing with a straight bat.

He has thrown down a googly.
Has he played his last innings?

When will the captain come to the crease?.

What he is doing is just not cricket!

Will he hit them for six?
He has been caught in the covers.

Will the voters be bowled over?

He stumped the opposition party.

He was caught out by his lack of political experience.

It was time to call stumps on his government.

He is definitely batting on a sticky wicket.

Throughout the term of his government, there have been too many dropped catches.

When it comes to foreign policy, he is an all-rounder.
He can play on both sides of the wicket.
He has got plenty of balls to spare.

The opposition has hit him with a bouncer.
His stumps were shattered.
He was out of his crease.

I don't think he will simply walk on this issue.
He was bowled through his legs by the opposition.
He has clean-bowled the opposition.
He had his middle stump knocked out of the ground.
He has hit a ton on the issue of the balance-of-payments deficit.
He was doing quite well until bad light stopped play.
He has overstepped the mark.  
He hasn't got off the mark yet.
When it comes to experience, he is low in the batting order.
He hit a century before lunch.
He can turn his arm to anything.
He is bowling wide of the stumps on this issue
He is batting on a sticky wicket.
His policies have been hit for six.

He lost his footing during the run-up.

being the last person into the office

Office timing is 9.00 am to 5.00pm – no problem.  So, of course, people start arriving at 8.45. By 8.55 everyone is at their desk waiting for Windows to load, except for that one person, let's call him Bob, who always just manages to get to work on time.  It is a natural phenomenon, so cannot be planned out of the system. The interesting aspect of this is why Bob, and not Sandra or Adrian? Bob obviously wishes that he was like Adrian and Sandra, and possibly Georgina, but he can never be one of them. Without needing to consider logic or common sense, the emergence of new technology is probably to blame. It must be the root of the problem as it micro-manages every micro-second of our life.

...going into work in your pygamas

I read the excellent Saudi Gazette regularly.  Having worked in the kingdom I feel some affinity with the events reported. Also, it is a very easy read, somewhat of an antidote to reading the Guardian, which has been my obsession for the past 35 years. There was an interesting article a week or so ago about an employee of  Madinah Municipality shown in the security video going into work in his pyjamas. 



The quote in the article from the municipality is 

The municipality said it was one of their employees, but so far no one was able to identify the man or why he came to the building in his pyjamas.

According to the report, employees of the municipality have got together and are offering a SR10,000 reward for the name of the employee. The security clip was widely circulated on the Internet in the kingdom, so the employees feel that this event is a slight on their character.   Also, the article suggests that this man can be fined quite a lot of money, SR500,000. 

Well, after a quick search, it seems that it happens quite regularly all over the world, except for KSA. However, it is more of a male rather than a female thing. Personally, I've never gone into work in my pyjamas, and never worked anywhere where anyone has. However, as everyone knows who reads my blog, I can rightly be accused of being out-of-touch with the world that is going on around me. Still, if I put myself back into the enjoyable time I spent in Saudi Arabia, I can safely say that there's nothing worse than going into work in your pyjamas.

.....having a blocked nose

You wake up with a headache - still tired, struggle through the bowl of porridge and get into work. When you speak, your words are misunderstood more than normal.  The problem is obvious - a blocked nose.  What is the cure - tiger balm, Vicks vapour rub, anti-histamine, steam bath? There are many. They all work, or not, depending on something - it is one of those medical mysteries of the universe. Once back home, the inevitable question is asked - how was work today? The answer - it was okay, but I couldn't breathe properly - is met by the equally inevitable - yes, there's nothing worse than having a blocked nose.

....being wobbly on your pins

Someone I feel I know quite well was recently walking to her car at midday and felt distinctly jittery. As I have been told, Washington can be a little hot and humid in mid-September, so walking long distances outside the comfort of a shopping mall is not advisable. Not that she was on a long-distance hike, far from it, in fact. With her car looming large, her brain must have said, okay go for it, but her body gave a contrary message. The brain won. She just managed to climb in. Driving away, she must have reflected on her health – was she getting to the age when she might start feeling wobbly on her pins?

.....having your fences taken

Luigi Canaloni was recently sitting outside the Cafe' de Italiano when he was overheard making the casual remark "I have the distinct impression that the British are somewhat remiss when it comes to cooking pasta. " Within hours this remark went viral. A web site went up - neveraskthebritishtocookpasta.com, an online petition was launched entitled "All Britishers should be banned from cooking pasta", a number of facebooks were created warning people about the dangers to health of eating pasta cooked by the British, the European Union was asked to revoke the passports of all UK nationals buying uncooked pasta, #brits-are-sh**t-at-italian-cooking had a million hits, the creator of the youtube video "One hundred best British pasta failures" became on overnight billionaire.

The following events are a cautionary tale. The next morning Luigi went to his downtown tomato farm to check on his produce, and found, to his horror, that all the fences had been taken and the local goats had happily eaten his prize crop of San Marzano tomatoes. "I had heard rumours of fences being taken, but I never imagined that anyone would take a fence from me. This is the worse thing that has ever happened," a tearful Luigi remarked. He is currently enrolled on a government course on how to build fences.

.....having an anxiety attack over a word

I'm not normally a follower of anything from Fox News, but I recently happened on the following web page: 

http://magazine.foxnews.com/style-beauty/jane-seymour-its-bangs-over-botox,  which had the title: For Jane Seymour, It's Bangs Over Botox.
 
This is a selection of the content of the article

When Jane Seymour decided it was a time for a whole new look, she opted for scissors to get the job done.
 
“I cut bangs,” the 62-year-old British actress told Us Weekly. “Since I’m not a Botox babe, you know, bangs work.”

Before rocking full bangs, Seymour has been a fan of the sideswept fringe for decades, making it her signature look. And while stylists insist that bangs can give women a more youthful appearance, it looks like the star was already in on the secret.

Being an ESL teacher, I'm meant to be able to understand the meaning of unknown words in text from the context, but I really was unable to work out what bangs could mean. Is it a body feature or a fashion accessory? How new is the word bangs, did it come from a Holywood film or TV series, etc, etc. I immediately thought it was a short version of a proper word, so bangle comes to mind, but then I had doubts, since you cannot cut a bangle without specialist equipment which Jane Seymour is unlikely to have.

Botox is the latest craze amongst the Dubai crowd, and clinics are putting in big money to take advantage of it. Will there now be places in Dubai which specialise in bangs, like Bangs'R'Us perhaps?
 

.....reproducing the lyrics of a popular song

The other evening it was raining for the first time for more than a year. Some related words from a song came to mind, and although I now sometimes forget more things than I admit to, I was able to remember all the words for "Rainy Night In Sharptown." This song was released on 06/06/1906 by the winner of Sharptowns Got Talent, Al Johnson. 

So here are the words

Hoverin' by my suitcase, tryin' to find a warm place to spend the night

Heavy rain fallin', seems I hear your voice callin' "It's all right."

(chorus)

A rainy night in Sharptown, a rainy night in Sharptown

It seems like it's rainin' all over the UGC

I feel like it's rainin' all over the UGC

No neon signs a-flashin', no taxi cabs and no possibility of any local buses passin' through the night

An extremely distant moanin', of a Metro tram in Downtown, seems to play a sad refrain to the night

A rainy night in Sharptown, such a rainy night in Sharptown

I believe it's rainin' all over the UGC

I feel like it's rainin' all over the UGC

How many times I wondered

It still comes out the same

No matter how you look at it or think of it

It's Sharptown and you just got to play the game

I find me a place in an uncompleted apartment building site, so I play my lute to pass some time

Late at night when it's hard to rest 

I hold my wallet to my chest 

and I feel fine

But it's a rainy night in Sharptown, baby, it's a rainy night in Sharptown

I feel it's rainin' all over the UGC, I'm kinda lonely now 

And it's rainin' all over the UGC

Oh, have you ever been lonely, people?

And you feel that it was rainin' all over your world

You're talking 'bout rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin', rainin', in Sharptown

...... not knowing an acronym

I recently received a comment on one of my earlier posts about eyebrows that meet in the middle, declaring it to be BS. Unsure of what this meant, I looked on one of my recently discovered websites www.acronymfinder.com. Unfortunately, the site returned 199 entries for BS, so I was left wondering which one to choose. I originally thought that it could mean British Standards, however, that doesn't fit grammatically, as the BS must be adjectival. Therefore, bright and shiny seems to be the correct interpretation, although I might disagree about the blog entry being shiny. Talking of bright and shiny, this is quite funny. I have not seen or read anything about the source, but I assume it is irony.