Very well hidden talents

It turns out that in amongst all the sensible qualifications we possess, there are usually some less useful ones.

And some downright weird ones.

I’ve been updating my CV recently – It’s important to be able to adequately show a prospective employer my decades of chronic underachievement in a neat chronological list – and it turns out some of the things I’ve got certificates for are rather out of date, irrelevant, or just plain weird.

I’m grateful for the First Aid course I went on, as it’s always useful to know what to do if someone goes into labour. It was good that I knew roughly what to do when a colleague attempted to cut his finger off with a jigsaw, even if the shaking like a leaf and having a quivery voice when I rang for an ambulance weren’t part of the training. Happy days.

Proper O and A Level subjects aside, the fading, tatty, blue folder of my training history reveals some less helpful areas of expertise. I can vaguely recall bits of the “IBM MVS Operations Techniques”, and I clearly can’t go wrong with informing the fascinated HR person at my next potential employer that I’m fully trained on the Pitney Bowes 3100 Dual Webb Inserter – as a key operator, no less. You can high-five me later.

The B.A.G.A. Gymnastics Awards (4 and 3!) from the 70s are potentially useful, but mainly only if I intend to specialise in picking up lost items up from behind a filing cabinet without moving it.

I’ve got a lovely certificate showing that I exhibited “continuous improvement” in 1990, and they even spelt my name right too. That would appear to be the only year in which that happened though.

Then there’s the software training on Excel (v4.0), Word (v2.0) and the one that will always guarantee my immediate employment and a fat pay packet, Wordstar 6.

I’m a qualified forklift truck operator, and I’ve even got a card with my photo on to prove it, even if the version of me staring back has more hair and a weird pair of turn-of-the-century fashion glasses on.

I “successfully attended” a Fire Risk Assessment course, which is probably a good thing to have a certificate for, as I’m assuming they don’t give them out for unsuccessful attendance. Well... maybe they do, but how would you know?

The absolute essentials from my earliest years are present and correct, even if the certificates are looking a bit yellowy with age (I know how they feel); The Royal Society For The Prevention Of Accidents National Cycling Proficiency one is dated 27th May 1977, meaning I’ve been OK for bicycling in a safe manner for nearly 37 years, and the 10m swimming one means I have been proven capable of getting from one side of a pool to the other without drowning. Even if I did hold my breath.

And finally, I am a trained Barista.

When do I start?

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column in the North West Evening Mail on the 28th of February 2014. You can view the version used by the paper here The only changes made by them were to add the word 'revealed' to the end of the title, and alter the format of the date from 1977.

This was an enjoyable one to write, and was genuinely triggered by me updating my CV, whilst seriously considering applying for a job. I chickened out in the end.

An update on a couple of previous columns: The Man Cave is still being decorated (after all, what's the rush? It needs to be done properly.) and my fingernails are now so long, I actually need to trim them, but never having done it before, I'm not entirely sure how to go about it. Weird, huh?

(Another home made compilation CD on the go tonight, this one featuring Roger Taylor 12" versions, Marillion and some mash-ups.)

Malaysian Grand Prix - Vettel hot, but not bothered

Malaysia. It's always hot, and it always rains. Except the 2nd part is no longer true (unless you count the drizzly bit around lap 14). Saturday's qualifying session had highlighted the fact that Red Bull and McLaren seemed well matched on pace, but also that Ferrari were struggling. Whilst Vettel bagged another pole, followed by Hamilton, Webber and Button, Alonso was only 5th, and Massa 7th, with Nick Heidfeld an excellent 6th on the grid between the two red cars. At this point, I would like to break momentarily for a small rant: How many times do I have to say Heidfeld is good? Why wasn't he given a top drive years ago? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?! ARE YOU BLIND!!!?? Ahem. The Hispanias somehow managed to a) turn up b) remember to bring cars c) get both of them on the track d) actually get both of them within 107%. Pretty remarkable really. Oh, and it didn't rain. Race day looked a more likely candidate for a drop of the wet stuff. The start was exciting, with...

"It's all gone quiet..." said Roobarb

If, like me, you grew up (and I’m aware of the irony in that) in the ‘70s, February was a tough month, with the sad news that Richard Briers and Bob Godfrey had died. Briers had a distinguished acting career and is, quite rightly, fondly remembered most for his character in ‘The Good Life’. Amongst his many roles, both serious and comedic, he also lent his voice to a startling bit of animation that burst it’s wobbly way on to our wooden-box-surrounded screens in 1974. The 1970s seemed to be largely hued in varying shades of beige, with hints of mustard yellow and burnt orange, and colour TV was a relatively new experience still, so the animated adventures of a daft dog and caustic cat who were the shades of dayglo green and pink normally reserved for highlighter pens, must have been a bit of a shock to the eyes at the time. It caused mine to open very wide indeed. Roobarb was written by Grange Calveley, and brought vividly into life by Godfrey, whose strange, shaky-looking sty...

A fisful of change at the shops

A recent day out reminded me how much the retail experience has altered during my lifetime – and it’s not all good. I could stop typing this, and buy a fridge, in a matter of seconds. The shops are shut and it’s 9pm, but I could still place the order and arrange delivery. I haven’t got to wander round a white-goods retail emporium trying to work out which slightly different version of something that keeps my cider cold is better. It’ll be cheaper, too. But in amongst the convenience, endless choice and bargains, we’ve lost some of the personal, human, touches that used to make a trip to the shops something more than just a daily chore. Last weekend, we visited a local coastal town. Amongst the shops selling over-priced imported home accessories (who doesn’t need another roughly-hewn wooden heart, poorly painted and a bargain at £10?) was one that looked different. It’s window allowed you to see in, rather than being plastered with stick-on graphics and special offers calling ...

grumpyf1

Search This Blog