I felt a bit briefly maudlin today. I’ve been following the story about the typhoon in Burma since it happened and the first thing I had to do was work out where Burma was. (Between Bangladesh and Thailand is the simple answer, I’ve never been further East than Muscat). Burma is a socialist military dictatorship apparently and the lengths they have gone to in order to mismanage the aftermath is very depressing. (Mind you, so was New Orleans). The thing that actually got to me was seeing the news about the China earthquake, nearly 15,000 dead so far, and children being rescued from the collapsed remnants of a school. It occurred to me that the children were of course the lucky ones, as they were still alive. (There is no fate worse than death really, except perhaps when death brings release from terminal suffering). Lucky is a relative word, of course, as some children may have terrible injuries or have lost family members.

How would Britain cope if we were ravaged by similar natural catastrophes on a massive scale? Pretty badly I suspect. Our earthquakes and storms cause damage but they don’t generally flatten cities, for that we should be grateful for a quirk of geography.

After all, mankind is just a tiny speck of dust in the timeline of mother earth and we cling precariously to the thin crust of a raging inferno underneath. Earthquakes may be tumultuous to us but to the planet they are minor inconsequential shudders.

David explained to me the other day how the Sun was eventually going to expand, engulfing all the planets and burning us to a cinder, something even the Cockroaches can’t survive. He wasn’t overly bothered by it though, as it is five Billion years away. By that time, Man will hopefully have reached for the stars, or possibly perished along the way.

I usually have a mini-surf whilst munching my lunch. (Still the healthy option).

Yesterday, however, I was distracted by a comment on a website that mentioned a short story from 1909 called “The Machine Stops”

I started reading the text to get a feel for it, then spent the rest of my break reading it (and dropping celery on the keyboard!)

It manages to be both dated and ahead of its time at the same time. If you have fifteen minutes or so to spare, have a read.

A feature in today’s daily mail defends supposedly useless 70s gadgets such as the Sodastream, Fondue sets and the Goblin Teasmade. (They are in a list of a top 20, although the site the article refers to isn’t properly live yet).

I first encountered a Teasmade in a small hotel in the late 70’s when I was installing phone systems around the country. I don’t remember which specific hotel but it may have been one rather unusual one I stayed in at Cannock Chase. It only had about six rooms but the reception had more than thirty keys on the board. (It must have been every cupboard & padlock in the place). The rooms were fairly normal but what was unusual was the bathroom- it was a large room with the bath in the centre & with thick shagpile carpet. (The bedrooms themselves weren’t en-suite).

When I first encountered the Teasmade it was curiousity that made me fill it and set it up. It was basically a glorified alarm clock but instead of sounding an alarm, it boiled a metal kettle instead. The kettle bit was sealed so that once it reached boiling point, the water squirted out under pressure into a ceramic teapot. The kettle was on a sprung platform that raised up as the water transferred from the kettle to the teapot, at which point a changeover switch would operate, the light would come on and the buzzer would sound.

I actually found it a pleasant way to be woken up as it would would progressively get noisier over several minutes, although the buzzer was a bit severe. After encountering another one somewhere else and repeatingt he process, I eventually noticed one in Coventry Exchange & Mart, a large 2nd hand shop in town, & bought it for a song.

I vaguely have memories of having a clock radio version later (probably after the local Radio Station started, Mercia Sound), although as I had a semi-live-in girlfriend by then, I found nicer ways to be woken up!

The other useless object celebrated was the Sodastream, a device for carbonating water. Everything the Daily Mail says about it is true- they didn’t make enough pop as the bottles were too small, the concentrates didn’t taste very nice, the bubbles weren’t as good as real pop, they got messy & sticky, the CO2 bottles themselves were quite expensive and you had to take your old one in with you. Overall they were rather Cak, but good fun for a kid.

(The post title is a possible urban myth that Goblin wanted to use that slogan for an annual promotion but they were told that it would break advertising rules)

There is nothing quite like having a temporary affliction to help you notice the same handicap in others. Last summer, when I had my head shaved, I suddenly became acutely aware of how many other blokes had little or no hair. My trips round ASDA or into town were fascinating insights into male tonsorial trends, something I was somewhat indifferent to beforehand (and am again).

When I broke my leg earlier in the year, I became acutely aware of how many other people had a limp, a walking stick or crutches. When I made use of the ASDA scooter, I became a lot more conscious of others doing the same.

However, a few months ago, I started to notice something a little unusual, occasional people getting round with one crutch although they didn’t seem to actually need it. They tended to look somewhat “scratter”ish and sometimes they were outside pubs or clubs in the smoking areas.

Why did they stick out? I don’t really know, just a feeling that it was a little odd.

Then, I read Barry Beelzebub recently and the penny dropped.

(Why am I mentioning it now? Word association football. It is four months since my accident and I am taking the crutches back to the hospital tomorrow. I haven’t used a walking stick since Barcelona and whilst I’m still slow and tire easily, I managed to cut the grass yesterday afternoon).

(Image from NHS BRI Orthopaedics website page)

It is a public holiday in Britain today, the first of two in May. Given the choice of doing some gardening or a trip out, we decided on the zoo. No great taxonomic delights in the titles, just to warn you.

The weather mostly held with some minor spitting mid afternoon. With petrol now costing more than £5 a gallon we will have to curtail our charabanc jaunts.