bus station blues
I did not get up until 2pm today. There were only three hours of light left.
Yesterday's main events were thus:
Tried to catch a bus to Ingleton to meet a friend at the indoor climbing wall there. No bus arrived at stand 13 so 30 mins later I rang my friend and left a message saying I couldn't make it. As I left I reconsidered the layout of the bus terminal and realised that I had been waiting at stand 12 because the signage was a little misleading to the unfamiliar. I had little to do during my long vigil at the bus station but did not find time to stand back and make sure I was waiting in the right place or confirm it with another passenger. Instead I chose to pace around moodily as my bus came and went. I watched people get onto it. Public transport failures can get you down, especially when it is cold and dark and you could be travelling in a car if you hadn't recently tried to wind down the frosted-up window and broken the mechanism.
Other journeys-gone-wrong come to mind. Such as the London Underground train I got on with the intention of travelling two stops to meet a friend. I was on the correct platform and the train I got on was going in the right direction but perhaps I should have been suspicious when relatively few others got on. The reason for this soon became clear as the train cruised through all stations until fields appeared at the outskirts of north London. The first stop was Luton Airport where, luckily, I crossed the track and hopped immediately onto a train going back to London. Somehow I made my appointment.
Back to yesterday.
Visited my friend, the polymath David Wright, in the evening and watched him install some new media equipment. I Wasn't feeling too talkative, though. Later played a board game called Carcassonne with David and Peter Yeandle. The game was good but I don't pick up board game strategy very quickly so relied on their advice for my moves. I came last.
The largely obsolete phrase "play the white man" came up ( not for the first time) between me and Mr Wright. Perhaps it could be the name of a board game about racism and racial stereotypes. The game would feature such characters as mean jews, indian givers, thieving gipsies.....etc etc etc.
I doubt, though, that a manufacturer would be keen to risk such a project. In fact, I'm certain.
Have you ever wondered what your native language sounds like to a non-speaker? I have and have wondered if it is possible by a special kind of mental effort to defocus one's mind and hear English as a foreign tongue - just the stream of sounds devoid of meaning. I believe it is and have had limited success. Try it! Find your own methodology. You will be attempting something seldom tried in human history. Be careful not to get stuck there, though.
Best wishes for tomorrow
Yesterday's main events were thus:
Tried to catch a bus to Ingleton to meet a friend at the indoor climbing wall there. No bus arrived at stand 13 so 30 mins later I rang my friend and left a message saying I couldn't make it. As I left I reconsidered the layout of the bus terminal and realised that I had been waiting at stand 12 because the signage was a little misleading to the unfamiliar. I had little to do during my long vigil at the bus station but did not find time to stand back and make sure I was waiting in the right place or confirm it with another passenger. Instead I chose to pace around moodily as my bus came and went. I watched people get onto it. Public transport failures can get you down, especially when it is cold and dark and you could be travelling in a car if you hadn't recently tried to wind down the frosted-up window and broken the mechanism.
Other journeys-gone-wrong come to mind. Such as the London Underground train I got on with the intention of travelling two stops to meet a friend. I was on the correct platform and the train I got on was going in the right direction but perhaps I should have been suspicious when relatively few others got on. The reason for this soon became clear as the train cruised through all stations until fields appeared at the outskirts of north London. The first stop was Luton Airport where, luckily, I crossed the track and hopped immediately onto a train going back to London. Somehow I made my appointment.
Back to yesterday.
Visited my friend, the polymath David Wright, in the evening and watched him install some new media equipment. I Wasn't feeling too talkative, though. Later played a board game called Carcassonne with David and Peter Yeandle. The game was good but I don't pick up board game strategy very quickly so relied on their advice for my moves. I came last.
The largely obsolete phrase "play the white man" came up ( not for the first time) between me and Mr Wright. Perhaps it could be the name of a board game about racism and racial stereotypes. The game would feature such characters as mean jews, indian givers, thieving gipsies.....etc etc etc.
I doubt, though, that a manufacturer would be keen to risk such a project. In fact, I'm certain.
Have you ever wondered what your native language sounds like to a non-speaker? I have and have wondered if it is possible by a special kind of mental effort to defocus one's mind and hear English as a foreign tongue - just the stream of sounds devoid of meaning. I believe it is and have had limited success. Try it! Find your own methodology. You will be attempting something seldom tried in human history. Be careful not to get stuck there, though.
Best wishes for tomorrow
posted by rjw at 4:42 PM
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