Archive for November 5th, 2003
I was all set for a disappointing fireworks night. Didn’t make any plans for it or anything, you see. I said to the missus yesterday, “Fancy finding a bonfire somewhere and seeing some fireworks?” to which she replied, “Nah, I hate fireworks season.”
I think that that’s most likely the problem – it’s more of a season than a one-night event. The build-up to November 5th is usually peppered with occasional impromptu rockets being let off by groups of kids in the park or street. By the time the night arrives, it’s tempting to think ‘Oh no, not more bloody fireworks’.
To be honest it’s been unusually quiet this year in our new area, compared to where we moved from. In our old place there was no such thing as fireworks season – the kids round that way used to keep some fireworks spare from bonfire night to launch surprise attacks on their mates the following summer. It was an all year-round spectacle.
Walking back from the train was surprisingly pleasant though (In a loud explosions from all sides kind of a way). Everyone and their dog seemed to have a bonfire and fireworks in their garden. It was quite a show at its peak. I even got so excited about it i turned the lights off and stared out of the window like a kid. After that, I decided to go out and take some photos of the event (Narrow aperture, twenty second exposure; which in non-technical photographic terms means they won’t turn out).
Highlight of the show had to be the slow-climbing exploding purple ones, (sorry
Pinky - the pink fireworks were good too though.)
The catherine wheels made me nervous though. Always have since that Bonfire night as a kid when one came loose from the goalpost it was nailed to and hurtled towards my family who were unfortunately standing in a conveniently straight line along the projectiles path.
I bent backwards, my brother bent forwards, my Dad bent backwards and so-on down the line as it buzzed over our heads. If we had managed to do it in slow motion it would have looked like a scene from the Matrix.
Later on that night I stuck a sparkler into the ground and stood over it, inviting a severe telling off from a safety bloke who thought it was a firework and that I was just about to blow my own face off.
Crikey – an ambulance has just driven slowly up my street, pausing outside my house. That’s a bit sinister.
November 5th, 2003
Holy moley – I just heard on the news that a nineteen year old lad pretended to be a replacement driver on a train and had an extravegant joy-ride with a train full of passengers. Not only that, but to stop him, he had to be shot by the police.
Words, yet again, fail me.
November 5th, 2003
I had four things to do today at lunchtime. I only did three. The nagging at the back of my mind is telling me that the fourth item was the most important one, and I really shouldn’t have forgotten it.
You’d think that a computer programmer would be more organised with things like lists, but I’m not. In fact, I probably have one of the least well programmed brains in the business. Computers are good for pathfinding problems – getting from A to B, but can I get from my house to my Father in Law’s house without my missus sitting next to me telling me what junction I’m looking for? Can I heck.
I’d write things down, but I keep forgetting that A) I’ve got a notebook in my pocket and B) To read things that I’ve written.
At least in the long term, I’ve got this blog to look back on to remind me where I’ve been. As long as I continue to remember the URL, anyway. To be honest even that’s in danger – I can already only blog from work because the browser remembers my password for me and I don’t know what it is at home.
Anyway, I must dash, I’m pretty sure I’m meant to be… somewhere. For something.
PS: Ironically the title of this post was in relation to buying contact lenses today but by the end of the post I’d forgotten what I was blogging about.
November 5th, 2003
I don’t read the news much – not in an avid routine way anyway. It’s not that I’m disinterested or that I prefer blissfull ignorance, but it is reliable in tending to get me angry and annoyed.
Take the 14 year old kid who was killed yesterday by a 15 year old kid by stabbing him through the heart. Words fail me – as do any ideas at a solution to whatever problems created the situation in the first place.
I’m afraid I have nothing but feelings of being angry and impotent. I can see these kids in my own town. God forbid that they’d ever stab anyone (Not until they’re older at least) but it gets me angry and weary when I walk through a gang of schoolkids hanging around a shop on Main St. threatening each other with ‘Gettin’ slashed’, pushing each other and telling each other that they’ll ‘Get a screwdriver in ye’.
Ok, so they’re just acting hard in a group of mates – they’re only practicing – but the fear that my dog might bark at them and put them onto trying out their threatening patter on me as I walk home is genuine.
November 5th, 2003
Early to bed last night, but still feeling more tired than I should. I blame the fact that the missus gets up at 5.30 and that pretty much makes me up at 5.30 too. Every morning this week has had that ‘dark outside, i must be getting ready to go on holiday’ feel to it.
But no – I was going to work as usual. I’m pretty sure the nice old man who got on the train was going on holiday though – or at least perhaps to visit a relative somewhere. He bundled onto the train with a big old suitcase on wheels and sat down with an excited grin, clutching his ticket.
“Good morning!” he exclaimed to his fellow passengers, as if we should all be as excited as him about going on a train journey. He was met with a lot of raised copies of the Metro and a wall of silence, but there was something infectious about his excitement so I returned his “good morning” and exchanged some chatty observations about the train timetable.
The poor chap soon lost his grin after five minutes when he realised that commuter train journeys are actually very unsociable affairs and the best way to pass the time is usually to stare out of the window, and try not to talk to anyone else ever again.
I felt kinda sorry for him when we got to Glasgow Central. I really did get the impression that he’d been disillusioned by the whole train journey process, and by the fact that people, on the whole, just aren’t as excited about going to places on trains as he seemed to be. By way of compensation, I offered to lift his suitcase off the train for him – just to show that not everyone on the 8.28 to Glasgow Central is a silent introvert.
“No thanks – I’ve got wheels,” he replied, and we left it at that.
November 5th, 2003
Well this will be interesting…
Today ybiia will be, along with 15 other blogs, taking part in BBC Blogday. What this means is that todays posts will be edited and narrated as part of a ‘day in the life of the nation according to bloggers’-type programme on BBC Radio Scotland.
So let’s get blogging
..
November 5th, 2003
