The latest exciting meme

Will H of Google Fame is the latest to succomb to a cracking meme-wheeze that will really swell your comments, wrinkle out your readers, and waste whole days of work time.

You fire up iTunes, turn on Party Shuffle, and post the first lines of the top twenty-five songs.

I almost did it right here, right now, but it would have taken an awful lot of time, and my copy of iTunes here in the office only has a tiny fraction of my CDs in it, so it would have been a little distorted.

Most annoyingly, iTunes on my laptop inherited the library information from my previous laptop when I transferred the files across.  The major reason for upgrading was always that I was running out of hard drive space on a daily basis, so I had deleted all my MP3s (including my Lib Dem sanctioned “New Beginning”). iTunes never understood, and is still trying is trying to play songs that weren’t there on the last laptop and still aren’t there on this one.

I don’t know why things get quite so complicated when I’m involved.

I’ve just been trying to get a new printer to work.  I often get called in when other people have tried and not quite got there, so I try and pick up the pieces.  The set up is: one of those fancy new laptops with no parallel port; a USB adsl-modem and the new printer.  So, what seems to be the problem I ask? and they wave the printer cable at me.  It’s a network cable.  Ah.  The PC does have a network port, but you can’t plug a network printer directly in via a network port, it needs to go via a hub or router (I assume, anyway, am I wrong about this?).  Which they don’t have because it’s a USB modem not a sensible one.  The printer also has a parallel port, but the laptop doesn’t. So, I get on the phone to the support people who supplied all the kit over a period of several years and ask them the best way of making it work together.  Lots of humming and hawing.  They put me on hold.  I double check the back of the printer… and see there’s also a USB port on it.  Bah.  Problem over, I explain when helpdesk come back on the line.  All I need to do is buy a USB hub and a USB cable.

So *then* I head over to PC World to pick up the bits, but I’m so disgusted with the prices (cheapest USB cable in PCW – 14.99.  Cheapest USB hub, 12.99, with some priced over 30 quid!) that I walk out.

Still, the printer does not work.

Bah.

Am now using ebuyer to find a cheaper USB hub – rather like the copy on this one:

While you install a bluetooth doongle on your PC, sometimes the immobile port may cause a limitation to receive. BluetoothMate USB Hub is not only a 4-port USB hub, but also a functional tool dedicates to bluetooth dongle use with its special design in a rotatable port. The 180o rotatable port allows your bluetooth or RF dongles to receive better signal at a better angel, so that you can create a smooth wireless working situation. Meanwhile, it is also suitable for some big-size dongles that are difficult to be installed side by side.

“Big size dongles that are difficult to be installed side by side” ?  Oh, honey, I know just what you’re trying to say.

Google

Kathryn asks

Have you done something to Google? Put your name in – the first 5 entries all relate to you!

To be fair, that’s googling in the UK — if you google in the US, it’s just the top three that are me, and then there’s a jazz musician in New York, and some sort of sportsman, and a few other people with the same name as me.

But it’s true, Google seems to hold me in very high esteem. It’s not something I’ve deliberately done. Getting a little involved with a blogging community through libdemblogs and occasional links from people with very high traffic, like Guido and Iain Dale certainly help on the page rank front.

WordPress is also excellent at putting my things under Google’s nose, not least because everything I write shows up under multiple different URLs – this post will be under http://www.alexfoster.me.uk for a day or two, then will be found at all three of http://www.alexfoster.me.uk/categories/general and categories/tech and categories/ramblings for a while, before being relegated to http://www.alexfoster.me.uk/2006/08 and so on.

But Google is erratic — look at Will Howell’s experience a few weeks ago. As far as I’m concerned, one of the links for me – the http://www.niles.org.uk links – now point to web space I am not actively using and am still thinking up for a long term use for; I’m not sure where Google get the description line for this domain, but how do I change it if my personal circumstances change?

The thing that really gets me, though, is looking through my referrer logs to find out how people get to my website. (I use  MyBlogLog.com to sort out the technical stuff for me.) And Google send almost a hundred people every day with various different criteria.

Some of them are things I have written about, like Black Rod’s Garden Entrance, the “boom boom bah” music in Dead Like Me, and roasted tomato soup. Thank goodness someone explained what the regular daily hits for “niles crazy” were about. Some of them are projects I am definitely involved in like librivox and libdemblogs. (I get tens of hits from both every day, and there’s a fair bit of reciprocal linking from other people involved in both going on too.)

Some of the people who end up here must be really disappointed. The following are just a few search terms from just the last twenty-four hours, and the page here the searcher ended up at

I’m going to stop there, not because I’ve run out of Google search terms but because WordPress is going to put itself into loops sending me pingbacks for that little lot. The point is – people have ended up on my blog and not found what they were looking for. I hope they enjoyed what they got instead.

Final thought goes to the person who got here by googling “help me, i’m starving” last year – I already wrote about that here.

Blackwoods Gin

As I write this, I’m taste-testing a new bottle of gin. On Friday night, I popped to Sainsbury’s and topped up the drinks cabinet with my recently received pay. A bottle of vodka for steeping blackberries in and a new bottle of gin to replace the exhausted Bombay Sapphire bottle in the freezer.

Whilst my hand was reaching towards the lovely blue bottle in Sainsbury’s, my eye was drawn by a new bottle that I’d not seen before. “Blackwood‘s – the world’s finest vintage gin.” A tall claim. The copy written on the bottle is extravagant:

Blackwood’s Vintage Dry Gin is distinctive and unique. Every summer we hand gather botanicals on the weather-ravished Shetland Islands, far to the north of Scotland, then slowly distil them to make our award winning Blackwood’s Vintage Dry Gin.

A little further digging suggests there are some things amongst the botanicals that are unlikely to grow wild in the weather-ravished Shetland Islands, like orange peel and turmeric. Do juniper berries grow up there? Apparently, they choose to import their berries from Umbria.

The weekend has so far passed without an opportunity for me to get at the gin bottle but this evening, someone on a forum mentioned gin, and I thought, when better to try it?

The bottle has a cork stopper rather than a screw cap, which was a little difficult to remove from a freezer chilled bottle.

Made a quick G’n’T – a lemon wedge, wiped around the rim of the glass and squeezed into the bottom of the glass. Three ice-cubes. Two fingers of gin and a tin of Schweppes Tonic (*) water.

And it’s a good gin. I can’t really tell if it’s nicer than Bombay. Maybe I’ll have to blind test two different types of gin at once.

(*) Contains a source of phenylalanine

Number One when you were born?

NOTE: Please do not leave comments here asking me to look up specific dates. Please follow this link to out the answer for yourself.

This website can tell you what song was at Number 1 in the charts the day you were born — assuming you were born after 1945.

I actually recognise mine, “You’re the One that I Want”, John Travolta and Olivia Newton John. But I’ve put in other family birthdays and not recognised many other people’s songs.

Now, I’m torn between sharing interesting coincidences of birth, and the security risk of revealing the birthdates of my nearest and dearest.

So perhaps I’ll confine myself to saying I don’t recognise any of the names of these “eminent musicians” with whom I share a birthday:

1941 – Beverly Lee ( The Shirelles )
1946 – John York ( bassist, guitarist, vocalist, The Byrds )
1963 – James Hetfield ( vocalist, guitarist, Metallica )
1967 – Deborah Anne Dyer ( aka Skin, vocalist, Skunk Anansie )
1971 – Deirdre Roper ( aka Spinderella; vocalist, Salt-n-Pepa )

Today's nerdy pre-occupation

Someone on a bellringing list has asked whether anyone else has converted their personal weight into the format normally used to measure church bells, which is cwt-quarter-lb.

I think, using Wikipedia, that means that cwt is 112lb so a quarter is 28lb. Which makes me 1-3-19.

Some other bright spark has then suggested comparing that with the records of church bells at Dove’s Guide, which is searchable by weight of tenor bell.

It appears that there are 42 churches with bells hung for English-style ringing whose heaviest bell is lighter than me.

Of those 42 churches, the first 22 have incomplete records that list their heaviest bell as weighing 0lb.

Of the rest, some notable churches whose bells weigh less than me:

You only need to know your weight in pounds or kilos to compare it to chuch bell weights on the guide, but even so, I really can’t see this one taking off as a blog meme.

Today’s nerdy pre-occupation

Someone on a bellringing list has asked whether anyone else has converted their personal weight into the format normally used to measure church bells, which is cwt-quarter-lb.

I think, using Wikipedia, that means that cwt is 112lb so a quarter is 28lb. Which makes me 1-3-19.

Some other bright spark has then suggested comparing that with the records of church bells at Dove’s Guide, which is searchable by weight of tenor bell.

It appears that there are 42 churches with bells hung for English-style ringing whose heaviest bell is lighter than me.

Of those 42 churches, the first 22 have incomplete records that list their heaviest bell as weighing 0lb.

Of the rest, some notable churches whose bells weigh less than me:

You only need to know your weight in pounds or kilos to compare it to chuch bell weights on the guide, but even so, I really can’t see this one taking off as a blog meme.

US man survives chocolate ordeal

Have you seen this story from the US?  It’s little fragments of it that tickle me:

Rescue workers and staff at the Debelis Corporation used cocoa-butter to thin out the chocolate and pull him free.

And then the occasional hint that the story is not taking the man’s plight seriously:

The accident involved dark chocolate.

Hmmm.

Travel quiz

We’ve not had a quiz for ages, so try this one for size:

Your travel type: Travel Yup

The Travel Yup likes exotic and adventurous travel, but prefers big cities with fast paced life. He has a keen interest in other cultures and always brings home a few souvenirs.
Shopping in Bangkok, getting a tailor made suite in Kuala Lumpur, that’s the kind of thing the Travel Yup is into. Even though he likes to get away, he prefers his travels to be comfortable.

top destinations:

Amsterdam
Beirut
New York

stay away from:

North Korea
Alaska
Darien Gap

get your own travel profile

Garden Party write-up

I finally have a few minutes to write up our Royal Garden Party experience as promised. I hadn’t forgotten.

Our Council seems to get a few invites to a Garden Party every year, and the ruling group is kind enough to let the minority parties have them. They seem to come to us every other year, so I suspect the Tories get them in the year we don’t. This year, I was fortunate enough to get them because I was the most senior member of the group who hadn’t been before who wasn’t too much of a republican to be interested in that sort of thing.

So, we allowed our names to be sent to the Lord Chamberlain, then a few months later, the invites arrived. Stiff, gilt edged cards with our names and titles handwritten on. Her Majesty commands the Lord Chamberlain to invite ………… to a Royal Garden Party. The invite includes a parking permit for The Mall, a secondary invitation to bring on the day, and a set of notes on what to expect, what you can and can’t do, where you need to be when, and so on.

We booked rail transport to get there. I wouldn’t really like to drive into central London, even with a Mall parking pass, and my Midland Mainline loyalty card meant we could get first class tickets, meaning we didn’t have to risk getting gum on our finery.

We bought new clothes specially: P invested in a nice new linen suit, and I just had my old one dry cleaned and added a new shirt and tie. We made a picnic for on the train although we probably didn’t need to – in first, the train staff come round with baskets of snacks and offers of a glass of wine.

Flash forward to arrival in London: we get the tube to St James Park and wander through the park down to the Mall. Already we’re following people with lovely hats and in their finest gear. By the time we hit the Mall, there was a steady stream of people to follow. And there were a lot of cars parking on the Mall, so glad we did take the train.

The notes told us there were several different entrances we could queue at. The queue at the front of the palace is the longest, but you get to go through the palace to get the garden. Since we’re unlikely to be frequent guests of Her Majesty, we chose the longest queue to go through the house.

It took about forty minutes to an hour to shuffle through the queue and reach the garden. During that time, there are almost always people joining the back of the queue which stretched out long behind us. There were lots of interesting things to watch – the people, their clothes, their hats. And there were interesting conversations going on all around us. Near us was an Australian serviceman who was making two trips to the palace in two days as the following day, his brother was getting an award. There were lots of servicemen and women, some people with guild medals on ribbons around their neck. There were people in Scouting uniforms, clergymen in different sorts and colours of cassocks, some people in glorious African national dress, and lots and lots of people like us whose finery didn’t let on why they were there.

We passed through a Police checkpoint and had to show our invitations, which were taken from us, and passports and driving licences.

The queue made its way through the house, which was rather fine: lots of paintings and ceramics on display. Further on, we went through a large courtyard, with the queue split in half, half of us alongside one wall and and the other half long out of earwigging distance on the far side of the courtyard.

Finally, out into the garden itself. We knew very little, but we were equipped with the map that gave the basic layout: very long tea-tents on the left, the lake ahead the far side of very large lawn and the Diplomatic and Royal tea tents on the right. There were two military bands, one near the lake, one near the house. The bands had their own tent, and a flag signalling system to ensure only one was playing at once: the first band had its flag up when it was playing. After a set, it lowered its flag, and the band diagonally opposite raised its own flag and started playing. The music was an interesting mix. You think of military bands playing marching music, but the music I recognised was all light – at one point, a Bond medley, including the famous theme and songs from the various films, at another point a Beatles medley. We had fun half listening to the music and seeing who could identify it first.

We knew from the notes the progress of the afternoon: guests arrive, guests go into garden, and then an hour later, the Royal Family arrive and the National Anthem is played. The guests form into lanes, organised by Yeomen of the Guard in full, colourful uniform, and armed with brightly shining pikes. The Royal Family pass through the lanes and take tea 50 minutes later first in the Royal Tea Tent and then a little later in the Diplomatic Tea Tent.

There was a small hiatus for wandering around the lawn, during which I’m certain I saw the two young princes, with Harry’s hair being the thing that caught my eye. By the time I’d got P’s attention and tried unsubtly to point at the young men in morning dress, they’d moved, and I wasn’t so sure it was them.

So, we knew that what we had to do was get into the lanes. They started forming lanes as soon as we got there, so we did suit. We started a little late and so we ended up queuing at the end of the lane, just before the Royal Tea Tent. The lane turned an angle from the house to the tent. We knew the Queen had to pass that way to get her tea, and we also knew when. So we stayed there. And waited. We stood for just under an hour, as more and more people joined the lane. At the end we were very close to the inside of the lane, in prime position to see the Queen as she passed. She spent a long time talking to the people out of sight up the lane from us. At several points, the Yeomen told us she was nearly there. “She’s almost round the bend now, ladies and gentlemen.”

Finally, the Queen passed. She was running late, and passed us at quite some speed. There was no chance to talk, so I suggested we back out through the crowd and take our chance to get our tea. As we did so, a new lane formed behind us for Prince Charles and Camilla to pass through the crowd. This meant we were effectively trapped, so we made our way into the new lane. We looked back over our shoulders and saw that the people right where we had been standing in the first lane, the people we’d been idly chatting to for the past hour, were deep in involved conversation with the Duke of Edinburgh.

We were in the wrong place actually to speak to Camilla or the Prince of Wales, but we did hear them talking to the people in front ofus. The conversation was very much in the “so, who are you, what do you do, type conversations.” And amongst the people directly in front of us was the man who manages the Pickalilly factory.

Finally, the lanes dissipated and we could at last get to the tea tent ourselves. It was at this point we discovered they’d run out food! But not immediately, we got into a queue for refreshments and people at the head of the queue were coming away with cake. But by the time we got there, they only had drinks left. We did have some rather lovely iced coffee, and also some English apple juice from orchards on the Sandringham estate. There was rather an extensive menu of different types of sandwich, cake and icecream that we’d missed out on.

The afternoon was drawing on then, and it was nearly time to hear the National Anthem for a second time that would signal that the Royal Family were leaving. We didn’t know how soon after that we would be asked to leave the garden, so we took the opportunity to see the gardens. Which were lovely. We wandered around the lake, saw a big urn, and the lovely new herbacious border the Queen had planted. By the time we came back to the main house, people were starting to leave, so we joined the queues ambling back through the house and were queuing to leave when the second National Anthem played.

For the rest of the day, we planned either to go and see a film or get dinner. We were ravenous at this point, but we managed to get both in by walking to the South Bank, and seeing a very short 3D show at the bfi London IMAX, then going back to an Italian restaurant not too far from St Pancras which managed to feed us in under an hour.

On the train on the way back was someone in a strappy day dress and a very impressive hat, and we caught each other’s eye and wondered if she’d been at the palace that afternoon too. She had, we later heard from her end of a mbile phone conversation that she had been. Because the rules said we couldn’t take any baggage apart from handbags, she’d had to hang around in central London in a strappy dress and fancy hat for hours until her train. At least our suits meant we could keep our things in our pockets and we didn’t stick out too much.

In all, it was a lovely day, and I’m glad we could go. It was very English – with tea, gardens, and an awful lot of queueing. And it was a little frustrating that we got it a little wrong and didn’t get fed, but no harm done in the end. We got much closer than most do to the Queen, the Princes Phillip, William and Harry, and Camilla. And we had a nice day out in London.