Shaken and stirred

Well played...

Its been a few years since that Scottish guy was heard on YouTube shouting “Oh my God! Trampoline! Trampoline!” as his neighbour’s one sailed dramatically past his window in a gale.

Since them we’ve dealt stoically with flooding, we’ve endured snow and ice like the troopers we are, and we’ve generally put on a brave face, gritted our teeth, and just jolly well got on with it as much as possible, regardless of what nature has thrown at us.

Until Saturday. Saturday was a game changer. The day that will be remembered for possibly a short while as Quake Day, when unprecedented levels of almost no damage whatsoever rippled forth from deep under somewhere north-north east of Swansea.

This shocking once-in-a-decade seismic event clocked in with a social media-inflaming 4.4 magnitude, with the effects felt as far as the southern edge of the Lake District, where it was easily mistaken for several excited lambs landing simultaneously after some particularly exuberant frolicking.

Through large parts of Wales, the Midlands and South West, the anguished cries of people from London who were gravely affected by it not happening to them so they could be smug about it were heard, long after the mild tremors had subsided.

So alarming was the largest seismic event in mainland Britain since 2008 (mag 5.2 in Lincolnshire, lest we forget) that Port Talbot vs Taff’s Well’s football match had to be temporarily stopped.

It’s expected to take several months for everyone to stop banging on about it. Did the earth move for you..?

This post first appeared as the third piece in my column/page in The Mail and the News & Star, on the 23rd of February 2018, where the title was augmented with "Quake left us..." at the front.

The piece included a seemingly random picture of sandbags outside Millom Community Hospital... presumably because I mentioned flooding. Tenuous? Hell, yeah.

Didn't feel a thing. It's SOOOOO unfair.

(CD A-Z: Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of The War Of The Worlds - The New Generation. Spoiler alert! It's not as good as the original...)

Comments

Shouting in the social media mirror

It was always tricky to fit everything you wanted into the intentionally short character count of Twitter, especially when, like me, you tend to write ridiculously long sentences that keep going on and on, with no discernible end in sight, until you start wondering what the point was in the first place. The maximum length of a text message originally limited a tweet to 140 characters, due to it being a common way to post your ramblings in Twitter’s early days. Ten years later, we’ve largely consigned texting to the tech dustbin, and after a lot of angst, the social media platform’s bigwigs have finally opted to double your ranting capacity to 280. Responses ranged from “You’ve ruined it! Closing my account!” to the far more common “Meh” of modern disinterest. As someone rightly pointed out, just because you have twice as much capacity doesn’t mean you actually have to use it. It is, of course, and excellent opportunity to use the English language correctly and include punctuat...

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 ...

Making an exhibition of yourself

Now and again, it’s good to reaffirm that you’re a (relatively) normal human being. One excellent way of doing this is to go to a business exhibition. Despite what you might have surmised from reading my previous columns, I am employable, and even capable of acting like a regular person most of the time, even joining in the Monday morning conversation about the weather over the weekend, and why (insert name of footyballs manager here) should be fired immediately. The mug! True, there are times, often involving a caffeine deficiency, where it is like having the distilled essence of ten moody teenagers in the room, but I try and get that out of the way when people I genuinely like aren’t around to see it. As part of my ongoing experiment with what others call ‘working’, my ‘job’ involves me occasionally needing to go and see what some of my colleagues get up to outside the office, and what our competitors do to try and make sure that they do whatever my colleagues do better than ...

grumpyf1

Search This Blog