Monday, May 22, 2006

go east



Monday saw us set off on a "mystery bus trip" with a group from our church. I was up before sunrise so we could feed my sister's animals before meeting up with the bus group.



We set off for the east coast of Tasmania and a few words in the driver's ear meant we made a special stop at the Woodsdale cemetery. This is where our great-grandmother is buried and after a minute or two we located the grave marker.



We have been here before, but not for about 25 years.

Julie would like to organise a special trip down to Woodsdale, which does have some tourist attractions in spite of it being so small there isn't even a sign to let you know you've arrived.



Lunch at the Blue Waters Hotel in Orford was a pleasant affair, then we took a stroll along the foreshore to admire the seascape.








Old Time Radio spot:

Listened to a 1944 episode of Suspense titled "One Way Ride to Nowhere". Alan Ladd stars as a man who takes a roller coaster ride and finds that at the other end there's an extra passenger - a dead psychiatrist. Intrigue and deceit on the midway unfold in typical film noir style.

Dark Fantasy was a minor 1940s series originating in Oklahoma City, but the episode "Pennsylvania Turnpike" does a nice job of slowly building the atmosphere in this tale of a hitch-hiker who doesn't seem sure what century he's living in. The climax, as often is the case, doesn't match the Twilight-Zone-style build-up but overall it's not bad.

Less subtle is the 1945 Sealed Book episode "Hands of Death", which is the radio equivalent of one of those old black-and-white B-movie thrillers. A mad strangler, his manipulative brother, the greedy butler... all that's lacking is Boris Karloff. (Notable is the amount of padding, including rambling introductions and excessively long musical interludes.)

And to finish off, listened to a 1940 newscast with Edward R. Murrow in London. We tour the darkened city during an air raid, ending up in Whitehall where the novelist J.B. Priestley muses on the future that lies ahead. Stirring stuff from CBS.





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Friday, May 19, 2006

angst






I'm perfectly in control of my day right up till the time I finish breakfast. After that, I feel increasingly powerless and anxious.

The fact that I recently started in on the second half of my fifth decade just makes things worse; before I know where I am, I'll be 60 and after that I'll pick up speed the further along the path of life I get.

Friday things just seemed to get more gloomy the further the day progressed. I felt as though there was a black cloud hanging over my head as the afternoon dragged on. I tried to stay impassive, in keeping with the tradition of the stoic Australian male, but I felt bloody awful.

Julie's friend Jan asked me if I was coming to the fireworks display tomorrow night.

"No." "Why not?" "I think I'm having an anxiety attack."

I was happy to keep it to myself, but faced with a direct question I lacked the patience to make up a polite excuse.





Some caregivers think their stress will drop once an elderly relative is placed in a long term facility, but they actually suffer more emotional trauma. A University of Pittsburgh study is the first to provide a comprehensive analysis of the emotional turmoil caregivers experience in placing a loved one with dementia in a long-term care facility.

"Caregivers have to face new challenges such as frequent trips to the long-term care facility, reduced control over the care pro- vided to their relative, and taking on responsibilities such as coordinating and monitoring care," says study leader Richard Schulz. "This study shows that we need to help care- givers who place their relatives." The findings appear in Journal of the American Medical Association.

I can believe that. Being a carer is a stressful job and the emotional connection doesn't end just because the person in question is physically out of the house. It never did for me. Cutting down on the angst factor is difficult.

And by the way, thanks to Wikipedia for their informative article that told me Angst is used in English to describe an intense feeling of emotional strife – a different but related meaning is attributed to Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard .

Kierkegaard used the word angst (Danish, meaning "dread") to describe a profound and deep-seated spiritual condition of insecurity and despair in the free human being. Where the animal is a slave to its God-given instincts but always confident in its own actions, Kierkegaard believed that the freedom given to mankind leaves the human in a constant fear of failing its responsibilities to God.

In modern use, angst is broadened to include general frustration associated with the conflict between actual responsibilities to self, one's principles, and others (possibly including God).

That's more the sense that I would use it in.








Wednesday, May 17, 2006

240 pounds of trouble

Today's visit to my doctor has been preying on my mind for some time. To say I'd been dreading it would be too strong, but I was certainly uncomfortable.

Ever since I was diagnosed with diabetes, it's been instilled into me that I need to lose weight – watch your diet and take thirty minutes of exercise each day. It's that simple.

"I'd like you to lose about three kilogrammes by the next time I see you," my doctor said. That's about 6½ pounds.

Had I done it?

Of course not. After all, what was at stake except my life and my health?

I could have made a case to explain it away. Told him how I'd thrown my back out and taken a month to get over it. Explained that my sister keeps me up so late I'm more likely to take a 30-minute nap than a 30-minute walk. Even played the sympathy card and said that since my mother died I have trouble motivating myself to do anything at all.

But the truth, which is (mostly) what I went for, is that like many things in my life it was just a matter of procrastination.

I had managed to lose one kilo and my sugar was down a fraction, so it wasn't a total debacle. In fact I wasn't doing so badly considering that I was running out of my tablets and had had to take a reduced dose to make it through to this appointment.

What about all this publicity about flu shots and diabetics, I asked. "I recommend diabetics get a flu shot," he replied. "They're more susceptible to bacterial infections that accompany influenza." I got the impression that I was more likely to develop pneumonia if I got the flu.

I should call my GP and ask for that flu shot.




And an adaptation of which famous novel was recently blurbed by the BBC7 website as "The world's most famous detective takes on the world's most famous dog"?
Yes, it was the Hound of the Baskevilles!





Troy Holaday (a professor from Indiana) has been gratifying C.S. Forester fans by posting Horatio Hornblower adaptations on his website.

But these are big files. Today I downloaded a zip-file of 255MB containing a 52-episode Hornblower radio serial. This took me 2½ hours to download on my 25kb/sec ADSL broadband. I'd certainly never have tried this on my dial-up connection.

But while I may appreciate the ability to do this, not everyone is so happy about the broadband situation in Australia. The Financial Review newspaper even published a scathing article that dubbed it "Fraudband."

Some very unflattering comparisons were made with Canadian users of broadband, who are able to access the internet much faster and more cheaply. Although some of the cases were clearly chosen for effect (anybody who chooses some of the Bigpond deals they gave as typical examples of Australian broadband needs his head examined), it certainly puts Australian telcos and ISPs in a poor light.




Friday, May 12, 2006

goose out

While on a coffee break at the office, listened to a 1944 episode of the radio show Suspense - "Fugue in C Minor" by Lucille Fletcher (who also wrote "Sorry Wrong Number"). Ida Lupino is engaged to Vincent Price, a man who has built his house around his giant pipe organ. Price seems nice enough, but his two children are convinced the organ is haunted by the ghost of their mother.

If only that was all that it was...

Nice spooky stuff. I've been downloading a host of these Suspense shows from one of the radio fan websites; the trouble is that I'm scared to listen to them after dark, so I'm a bit behind with actually hearing them.



Those miners have successfully been rescued from the bottom of the Tasmanian gold mine after 11 days. A happy ending for the men and their families.

Speaking of radio, I was musing how much of a radio event it was for my family. Others may have gleaned all the latest details from the television or the newspapers, but to me it was wireless all the way.

The first intimation that two of the miners were still alive came on Sunday night last week. The Coodabeen Champions comedy/chat show was on ABC radio and just before the 8 o'clock news they crossed to the Tasmanian newsroom for an update. It was a stirring moment.

Then for the rest of the week Tim Cox did his weekday morning show not from the Hobart studio but from the first aid room at the mine. This can't have been easy, but he did a great job. In the evenings, Tony Delroy's Nightlife show included a live cross to the mine every night around 1 a.m.

And when I woke up this morning, the first thing I heard was the good news coming over the clock radio.

God bless all who worked so hard to make this day happen.






Waterfowl belong outside. I don't want to wake up and find a goose sitting on the end of my bed.

That's the sort of thing that was going through my head when the backdoor jammed in the open position last week. Not only was it going to be cold during the winter but it was going to be difficult keeping the poultry out of the house.

Fortunately my sister Julie is more mechanically minded than I am – she got out the hammer and the drill and soon had it back in order again. Thank goodness for that.




Julie was off to a lunch the other day. I dropped her at Salamanca Place then went into the central city block to pay some bills, fill some prescriptions and pick up the magazines.

I had lunch at Euro in the mall, reading the Melbourne paper and doing some people-watching. It was interesting to see the sort of folk who drifted in and out after the lunch-time crowd had gone.

There were two or three students at the side table, exchanging comments about life and art on a fairly high level. By the front there was a couple, apparently tourists, who looked a little vexed about something and hurried off after their meal.

One guy came in and started giving (at length) his opinions about the sign on the front window. He discussed it in exquisite detail and just went on and on. If I'd been behind the counter, I would have told him to put a sock in it or clear off, but the staff must have been used to him.

He finally left but my relief was short-lived. Within five minutes he was back. He'd decided he'd have a coffee, but first he wanted to discuss in detail exactly what each sort of coffee consisted of....

It's a long time since I was in the retail business. Obviously I've lost the carefully-cultivated shield of patience that lets you put up with people like him.




7% of people in Australia have it. Type 2 Diabetes is a virtual epidemic among people with poor life style and obesity.

"It's easy to do things. It's not easy to think what to do." Jamie in Mythbusters







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Sunday, May 07, 2006

That Third Man

The possums got all the quinces this year, so it was a pleasant surprise to walk into the church hall on Sunday and see someone with an over-abundance had left a please-take-one crate of quinces. We brought home a handful and might stew them with some apples. Yum.

The possums have been around at Julie's house most weeks lately, and this week she was feeding the chickens and looked up to see a wallaby on the other side of the fence just a few feet away. They often go browsing through the gardens across the street, but they don't usually venture across the road.

Speaking of church, spare a thought for our associate minister [R2] who was preaching this morning on a really complex subject (predestination). He was just past the halfway mark when one of the members of the congregation took ill.

Imagine if you can trying to hold an audience's attention with this difficult topic and all the time their eyes keep straying across to the people administering CPR next to the pulpit. This would have to be up there in the worst-possible-scenario list for any preacher.

P.S: the woman in question was all right.




Saturday was Orson Welles' birthday, I noticed in the newspaper, so before going to bed I listened to an episode of his radio series Harry Lime [a 1951 spin-off from the movie The Third Man] .

You can get the Harry Lime radio show from OTRCAT.COM.

On Sunday afternoon, I returned home for lunch to find the arts show on ABC-TV were showing a documentary about the making of The Third Man.

Not a coincidence, I suggest.




An intense cold front is generating very strong winds, heavy rain and a cold showery change in the southeast of Australia, says the Weather Bureau. Northerly winds ahead of the front are directing warm norhterly winds over eastern NSW. A high pressure system in the west is keeping WA mostly dry.

The southern jetstream is helping maintain an intense front over the southeast and generate strong winds and rain. The northern jetstream is directing some high cloud over northwest WA but is otherwise not affecting the nation's weather.

In the early evening, ruddy Mars is in Gemini, and can be seen changing position every night. Saturn is easily spotted in the northern sky of Australia as a pale gold object, within binocular range of the Beehive cluster.

Jupiter is at its biggest and brightest on Friday May 5; it rises in the late evening and is the brightest object above the eastern horizon. In the dawn sky bright Venus is readily seen. On the early morning of Saturday May 6, the Eta Aquariids meteor shower should provide a meteor every two minutes or so.




Young adults in the United States fail to understand the world and their place in it, according to a survey-based report on geographic literacy released this week:

Take Iraq, for example. Despite nearly constant news coverage since the war there began in 2003, 63 percent of Americans aged 18 to 24 failed to correctly locate the country on a map of the Middle East.

Seventy percent could not find Iran or Israel.

Nine in ten couldn't find Afghanistan on a map of Asia.

And 54 percent were unaware that Sudan is a country in Africa.

Remember the December 2004 tsunami and the widespread images of devastation in Indonesia? Three-quarters of respondents failed to find that country on a map. And three-quarters were unaware that a majority of Indonesia's population is Muslim, making it the largest Muslim country in the world.

"Young Americans just don't seem to have much interest in the world outside of the U.S.," said David Rutherford, a specialist in geography education at the National Geographic Society in Washington, D.C

Perhaps even more worrisome is the finding that few U.S. young adults seem to care. Fewer than three in ten think it's absolutely necessary to know where countries in the news are located. Only 14 percent believe speaking another language fluently is a necessary skill.

Fewer than one in five young Americans own a world map.

This geographic ineptitude was further emphasized when young Americans were asked questions on how the United States fits into the wider world.

Three in ten respondents put the U.S. population between one and two billion (it's just under 300 million, according the U.S. Census Bureau). Seventy-four percent said English is the most commonly spoken native language in the world (it's Mandarin Chinese).


Personally I don't find the results that surprising. It took me some years to understand that other people couldn't visualise a map of the world in their head at will.

My problem is trying to remember the new names of countries!







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Friday, May 05, 2006

this chicken is deceased

If I seemed despondent about the weather yesterday, it was because it was the wettest day I'd seen for months. You should have seen me rummaging through the wardrobe looking for a raincoat.

Did this one still fit? Was that the one with the tear on the shoulder? What about this one with all the cobwebs on it?

Last year the winter was so mild that I hadn't needed my wet-weather gear, and you know how things tend to get lost if you don't use them for a couple of years. I eventually found a light raincoat, some gloves and a cap, deciding I was ready to venture outdoors at last.

At least I wasn't squelching about in the mud at my sister's place. While she was out feeding the horse and the poultry, I was content to take the dogs out in the backyard and throw a few pieces of apple for them to chase. The ground was damp enough underfoot out there, but it was great compared to the duck pen.

Not that the poultry were a great source of comfort to Julie. She had three of her chickens die on her in the space of four days.

And when that happens, there's always one that you miss more than the others. In this case, it was the littlest one, the hen we nicknamed "The Roadrunner" because of her long neck and determined expression.

Julie used to joke that she was like an anorexic supermodel in build, but sadly that seemed to be what did her in - she stopped eating and simply faded away.

It's surprising how much personality you can get in even a chicken.




I have been listening to quite a few Old Time Radio programmes lately and there are some gems among them.

Of course they aren't all winners. For example last week I listened to a 1953 episode of Hall of Fantasy "Out of the Sky" which was quite competently made but for a modern listener lacked a single spark of originality. It was rather like watching one of those old black-and-white B-movies on the late show:
Strange deaths arouse suspicion.
The government investigates.
An alien invader is discovered.
The Bomb is dropped.
In the last scene the hero stresses the need for continued vigilance.

I mean, there's nothing wrong with it but there's nothing much right with it.

We shouldn't fall into the all-too-human trap of making sweeping generalizations like "All OTR shows are neglected classics" or "All modern music is rubbish."

After all, that's the dictionary meaning of prejudice -- pre-judging things.




The Australian magazine PC User is celebrating its 200th issue and there have been some amusing flashbacks to issues of previous decades.

I especially liked the reprint from a 1995 issue that solemnly advised us that a multi-media capable PC needed at least a 400MB hard disk!

*Snort!*

Things have certainly changed.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

malevolent May




www.reverendfun.com



Gosh it's been a shocking day. Tuesday was all right until the next morning, but when I woke up it was an awful day. It poured rain and started to snow on the mountains. At least one party of hikers have already set off their EPIRB mayday signal.

And doesn't this weather find all the leaks in the roof? Over at my sister's house she was running around grabbing up plastic bowls to put under all the drips. At my place the front porch was inundated because I haven't yet done anything about the blocked guttering caused by intrusive vines.



But it could be worse. The little town of Beaconsfield in northern Tasmania is in the spotlight this week because of two miners trapped at the bottom of a gold mine.



The media is all over the place, waiting for triumph or tragedy. So far they've managed to get a pipe through to them so they can communicate and send them fresh water.

And (a sign of the times) an iPod for each of them!




Most of my spare time this week has been spent trying to work why Julie's laptop won't run Internet Explorer any more. Searching and chatting all over the place with no result yet.

The strange part is that she and I have identical machines, so why am I still on-line and she isn't?

It all seemed to start after that last Windows Update but uninstalling it didn't help things.

And why has she lost Virtual Machine from her system?





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Friday, April 28, 2006

Port Arthur



April 28th is a day in Tasmania's history that will be sadly remembered. Standing side by side in reflection with people at the Port Arthur Historic Site ten years on from the tragic events of April 28th 1996, we hope to help bring "a sense of healing and encouragement, not to forget, but to move on with strength and resilience."

There was a special broadcast of the Commemorative Service direct from the Port Arthur Historic Site on 936 ABC Hobart, ABC Northern Tasmania (and streamed to the internet) hosted by Tim Cox of ABC Radio Hobart.

This service was an important milestone in looking forward, looking back for the Tasman Peninsula and the people of Tasmania and Australia.

Order of Service
12.27 Official Party arrive
12.30 Like an Eagle: performance by Rosny Children's choir
MC: Edward Gauden
- Welcome by Chair Hon Dr Barry Jones AO
- Reading by Keith Moulton (Mark 4, verses 35-41)
- Ave Maria: performance by Amelia Farrugia
- Reading by Maria Stacey
- The Lord's Prayer: reading led by Edward Gauden
- Song of Joy: performance by Rosny Children's Choir
- Address by the Prime Minister, the Hon John Howard MP
- Amelai Candle Bearers make their way to Memorial Garden
- Reading by Premier of Tasmania, the Hon Paul Lennon MHA (Garden of Peace by Margaret Scott)
- Irish Blessing: recorded performance
1.30 1 Minute silence then
- Looking Forward, Looking Back: Performance by Monique Brumby
1.35 Close: Edward Gauden


The radio broadcast was a very moving time. The words of sadness and consolation were made all the more affecting by the many pauses in which we could hear the sound of the native birds singing in the surrounding forest.

It brought back that awful Sunday ten years ago when we heard the unbelievable news that a gunman had run amok at a popular tourist spot and shot down 35 people. Then as now, it seems completely inexplicable.

What I remember even more acutely is being in the city the following day. The populace were subdued. People sat quietly, talking in soft voices and looking off into the distance every so often. It wasn't hard to know what they were thinking; we were all dwelling on the same thoughts.



Thursday, April 27, 2006

Anzac Day



April 25th is Anzac Day, a public holiday in Australia, so I wasn't at work.

Instead, my sister and I spent the afternoon having a leisurely meal in a seafood restaurant in North Hobart with family, friends and neighbours. I ordered the pear and parmesan salad, though I ended up eating half of Rose Marie's chips.

It was also my birthday, so you could call it a de-facto party (although I went off birthday parties when I was about 11 years old).

"How old are you?" asked one guest candidly. Well, let's just say it was the 35th anniversary of my 21st birthday.



We enjoyed a nice meal and I even scored a few presents: a book of science fiction stories, a coffee mug with a cat motif, a DVD, a flash-drive and the inevitable box of chocolates (yum, liqueur truffles!).

All in all, it was a pleasant and relaxing afternoon. It was nice that so many people took the time to make their way in to North Hobart to join us – I think we had six people who'd been members of the Amnesiacs quiz team at one time or another at the table.

The intriguing thing was that Jan called in after dropping her son Jamie off at a friend's house. He was going (get this) to a birthday party.

What are the odds on that happening?



Julie's car has been lacking a left-hand window for some time. She's done her best to replace it with a piece of perspex cut to shape, but it's not quite the same.

It's a Mitsubishi Starion and only about 1600 of them were sold in Australia - spare parts aren't exactly easy to come by.

So she was really pleased when she located someone on the mainland who had a spare left window for a Starion.

She sent off for it straightaway and he had it shipped over.

It arrived yesterday.

In about a hundred pieces.

Oh well, she'll just have to keep looking.....




I've been amazed at the amount of old radio shows that are available on the Internet for free thanks to the generosity of some OTR fans.

But one website made me glad I had gone over to broadband. A zipped file containing 90 episodes of Suspense from 1944-46. I set the machine to download and waited.

And watched the total go up. 100MB. 200MB. 300MB.

How big is this file, I started to wonder.

625MB in the end.

"Try that on dial-up!" I thought.

But...

The following day, I returned and tried to open the zipped file. It now weighed in at only 622 KB and trying to open it merely got you a little sign saying it was either invalid or corrupted.

So I guess maybe the old saying is true – you can't get something for nothing.




Friday, April 21, 2006

those autumn leaves

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As we near the end of April, the autumn weather begins to bite. Looking across the backyard I can see an arc of mushrooms across the lawn, and there is a speckling of red foliage across the trees and bushes.

Standing out at the front gate looking up at the mountain, there's a constant murmuring sound as autumn leaves blow down the street.

But it's not all poetic and pastoral. A couple of times this month the weather has suddenly turned nasty and the wind comes howling off the Southern Ocean, bringing with it snow and rain. You get up one morning and find that your garden furniture has been blown from one side of the patio to the other.

We just have to get used to it. It will be worse before it gets better.




The commercial television networks are always hungry for a dollar and it's never been more obvious than this year. The Easter period is apparently a fortnight when the ratings shut down, so the networks see no need to use up their lucrative top-rating programmes.

All the popular shows are either repeats or (a new innovation) "specials" which take a look at the history of the show with lots of clips from previous episodes. Shows like Desperate Housewives, Lost and Prison Break have all gone this route.

That's why they call it show business, emphasis on the latter word.




The cultural side of things starts to pick up at this time of year though.

The amateur dramatics with Hobart Rep kick off at the Playhouse, and the free concerts begin at the Moonah Arts Centre.

The Arts Centre concert season was opened by the Lord Mayor of Glenorchy, who introduced the 35-voice Tasmanian Song Company, who serenaded us with a selection of popular and choral numbers. They also gave us a few songs from Noel Coward and Flanders & Swann.

I made the acquaintance of Flanders & Swann's amusing songs at an early age. When I was at school, the last couple of days of the year were always a non-event – one of our teachers used to bring in a gramophone and pass the time playing us his favourite records, including Flanders & Swann.

By the time I left school, I knew the words to "Mud, Glorious Mud!" and several other songs off by heart.

Meanwhile down at the Playhouse the first production of the year was The Lion in Winter by James Goldman.

Imagine the situation – it's Christmas and the head of the family insists on everyone getting together to celebrate the yuletide season. It's not exactly a happy occasion; the three sons are all jockeying for position to see who will inherit the family business and the mother has mixed feelings about her husband's young mistress.

The difference to your family or mine is that the father is King Henry II and the family business is running England. Any differences of opinion inside the family can be not just disruptive but deadly.

James Casey and Leonie Adams were gripping as Henry II and Eleanor of Aquatane... and who would have thought there were so many good one-liners in a play about 12th century politics?





“Television exists to make time pass quickly,
to get rid of an evening,
to whittle one's life away,
whereas radio drama illuminates,
invigorates and stirs the imagination.”

I saw that on a radio website and I rather liked it.

Since becoming involved with some of the websites where people discuss and trade old radio programmes, I've been impressed by the amount of knowledge shown. But even I was surprised to see a message from one aficionado that he'd just posted on-line the first 2½ years of the Suspense series for free download.

The Internet is a continuing source of wonder even after all the years I've been on-line.




Called in at the Harrington Street newsagent to pick up the latest American and British monthly magazines. Hi, I said, I thought it was about time I came by; it must been a while.

Yes, they said, it's nine weeks.

Where does the time go?






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Saturday, April 15, 2006

Easter saturday


Tuesdays seem to be a bit of a jinx day for Julie's poultry. The week before last I came home from the office to find she was worn out from chasing straying chickens and building a new house for them at her place.

Last Tuesday I arrived home to find that she'd brought over two more ailing chickens from her place and reorganized the poultry here. The grounds around my house are slowly being filled with cages and hen-houses - as though a property developer with an interest in bigger-and-better barnyards has been at work. There are chickens of various breeds inside the house, outside the back door, in the driveway and there's a goose on the back lawn.

We have to bring the rooster inside at night in case his crowing wakes up the people next door. Not waking us up, of course, is more a matter of good luck than anything else.

Sometimes it's all a bit much....





On BBC Radio 4, Sunday's new Classic Serial was part 1 of "The Code of the Woosters", by PG Wodehouse, dramatised by Judith French. It's been recorded on location and the production team promised "a lot of vim and vigour."

"Now, this is really going to divide opinion, isn't it?" commented the BBC programme guide. They may be right. The first five minutes for example are a bit of a shock, as we discover that the producers have dubbed in a lot of comical sound effects more suited to Roger Rabbit than the Drones Club, as well as a dream sequence that I don't remember in the original. (Mind you it has been about 35 years since I last read it.)

This is a bit strange, since in condensing a Wodehouse novel into two one-hour segments one would have thought the problem was deciding what to leave out, not what to insert.

Marcus Brigstocke plays Bertie and Andrew Sachs shimmers in as Jeeves. This is the one where Bertie has to rescue newt-loving Gussie Fink-Nottle's engagement to Madeline Bassett, daughter of the formidable Sir Watkyn Bassett.

BBC Radio have done many fine adaptations of Wodehouse - I thought Richard Briers was a particularly good Bertie Wooster and Michael Hordern a satisfactory Jeeves when they serialised The Code of the Woosters in 1973 - but this one may disappoint the purists and fans.

I shall report further when I've heard part 2.




Speaking of radio, I greatly enjoyed the 1957 special Easter episode of the old radio show The Great Gildersleeve that was available on the Digital Deli website. I tuned in for it after seeing some comments that it was the sort of thing that nobody would be willing or able to do in the modern media.

I think they could be right. Not only would it be politically incorrect, it would be difficult to find any modern star who would sound convincing espousing mainstream Christian ideals.

It simply doesn't happen today.






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Thursday, April 13, 2006

Easter


Easter, our minister told us on Sunday morning, is the “silly season” for comments about religion in the mainstream media. Most years there is some sort of expose or amazing discovery about Christianity. This time it was the unveiling of the so-called Judas gospel.

Unfortunately the people of both our century and Biblical times have the wrong approach to Jesus. They think that belief in God is something that brings them personal happiness and is spiritually satisfying – and if not, why not?

If Christianity doesn’t do this, they’ll move on to some other set of beliefs. Forget the catechism that says man’s purpose is to know and glorify God.

The authority of the Bible is unique in that it’s based on historical events, not on the philosophical speculations of self-appointed gurus. Jesus was a king because God sent him, not because of any popular consensus amongst the population on his land.

Christ came not to make our lives more pleasant and comfortable but to help us escape the consequences of the way we lead our lives. We come to him because we need rescuing; we stay because he is Lord.

One day when heaven was filled with His praises,
one day when sin was as black as could be,
Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin,
Dwelt among men, my example is He!

Living, He loved me; dying, He saved me;
Buried, He carried my sins far away,
Rising, He justified freely for ever:
One day He’s coming: O glorious day.

One day they led Him up Calvary’s mountain,
One day they nailed Him to die on the tree;
Suffering anguish, despised and rejected;
Bearing our sins, my Redeemer is He!

One day they left Him alone in the garden,
One day He rested, from suffering free;
Angels came down o’er His tomb to keep vigil;
Hope of the hopeless, my Saviour is He!

One day the grace could conceal Him no longer,
One day the stone rolled away from the door;
Then He arose, over death He had conquered;
Now is ascended, my Lord evermore!

One day the trumpet will sound for His coming,
One day the skies with His glory will shine;
Wonderful day, my beloved ones bringing;
Glorious Saviour, this Jesus is mine!


May you have a happy and blessed Easter.




Thursday, April 06, 2006

wet wet

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A good thing that the City Council fixed the problem with the water seeping onto Julie's property. The climate has taken a turn for the worse, with rain and snow suddenly a fixture on the weather forecasts. If the seepage had been combined with the recent rain, her yard would have been a veritable morass.

As it is, I've been reminded that those old shoes I wear when I go to her place are ready to be discarded. They are only intermittently waterproof, and going up and down the front path on a wet day is less than comfortable.




Well, I may have been overly optimistic about my back - it seemed to be improving a little every day over the last week, but on Tuesday I forgot to take any pain-killers before I went to the office and after a few hours I knew about it.

It didn't help that Tuesday evening I always take Kay to the supermarket on the way home. All that bobbing up and down moving things in and out of the shopping trolley was the last straw and I was in some discomfort by the time we reached her cottage.

Not that there was that much food to unload. Nowadays she seems to live mostly on yogurt, ice cream and potato crisps. A lot of the supplies were blank tapes for her video recorder – she never buys less than 20 three-hour tapes and this week I carted in 30 tapes for her stockpile.

On reaching home I took some paracetemol and retired to my armchair for most of the evening. After a few hours I was able to move around the house without wincing at every step.




The introduction of podcasting has proved to be another success story for ABC Radio with the number of listeners taking advantage of this service making Australia's national broadcaster a world leader in the field.
Most recent figures show that in one week in February there were over 360,000 accesses to the ABC's podcast files.

ABC Radio National's podcasting service had a record number of mp3s downloaded in the last week of February. The network continues to extend the number of programs available for downloading. Since the start of this year programs added to the available list include Radio National Breakfast, The Book Show, Saturday Extra, By Design, Counterpoint, The National Interest, Rear Vision, Perspective and Radio Eye. These additions bring the total list available to 26 different programs.

The ABC's triple j was the first station to podcast in Australia but because it is a music station copyright laws prevent their podcasting most of their content.

ABC Local Radio is selecting popular program segments such as Shannon Lush the best-selling guru on stain removal, special events such as the Newcastle Music Awards or creating material especially for podcasting as ABC Central Coast in NSW is doing.

Go to : abc.net.au/services/podcasting



But if you have a taste for more downmarket radio programmes, you'll find lots of old-time drama and comedies at the Zoot Radio website. There is a thriving forum where questions and answers fly at speed through cyberspace.






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Saturday, April 01, 2006

April Showers




Who would have thought there'd be such an instant difference between March and April? April 1st dawned dark and squally, with alternating patches of bright sunshine and driving rain.

This usually means only one thing, and sure enough when the clouds rolled back momentarily from around Mount Wellington, we could see that the first snows of the year had fallen. Then it clouded over again, like a giant drawing closed his robe.

At least the goose will appreciate the result of the wet weather, with improved grazing on the back lawn, though she actively dislikes the noise made by the rain on the roof of her quarters.

I don't suppose I can blame the weather, but my back isn't improving as fast as I had hoped this week. Oh, it's better than it was a fortnight ago, but it still bothers me when I first get up especially.

Friday morning I felt perfectly dreadful. Julie's night-owl habits had kept me out of bed till almost 3 a.m., I'd had to get up to answer a call of nature around 6 a.m. then the phone rang at 8:59. By the time I rolled out of bed I felt like I'd been run dragged through a hedge backwards.

At least the water situation at Julie's place seems to have been resolved. The pools of water have slowly dried up and the dogs no longer have to run through the mud to get in and out of the place.





Talk about spoilt for choice. With live radio, streaming audio on the internet, podcasting and MP3 discs, there is simply too much stuff for even a dedicated radio buff like myself to keep up with.

I've resorted to burning the half-hour programmes on to a CD and listening to one each night while I'm getting ready for bed. At least that way I can be sure of getting through 180 hours of Old Time Radio in a year.

This week I listened to several episodes of Leave It To George and A Man Called X, American thrillers from the 1950s. Yesterday I quite enjoyed listening to a 1957 episode of X Minus One "The Lights on Precipice Peak", based on a Galaxy magazine story by Stephen Tall. Two no-nonsense mountain-climbers get into difficulties and are rescued by friendly extra-terrestrials – characteristically one of the climbers says "If this is a gag, I don't get the joke."

I did get a chance to watch a little television on Friday: the ABC finally had a new episode of Dalziel and Pascoe after years of repeats, and the Nine Network aired episode #1 of a new Australasian science-fiction series Maddigan's Quest, featuring a travelling circus in a future century after the collapse of our civilization. Looks good – shot on one of those new high-definition video formats.




I remember Nan asking me some time ago to keep an eye out for any war books for Don that I might come across. Last week in the Salvation Army op shop I picked up a thick hardcover reprint of Eric Feldt's 1946 book The Coast Watchers. I wonder if it's of any interest to him?




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Saturday, March 25, 2006

greetings Governor

If I'd known I'd end up shaking hands with the Governor, I would have put on a better shirt. I wasn't expecting that when I joined the semi-annual Open Day crowds at Government House in Hobart.



The place was built in 1857 and is one of the nicest vice-regal residences in the Commonwealth. Designed by William P. Kay, it is described in the brochures as "a fine example of an early Victorian country house in neo-Gothic style and is one of the largest of its type in Australia" (73 rooms!).

This is where the Queen stays when she's in town.

The standard of decoration and ornamentation is high, and you spend as much time looking at the ceiling as you do at the furniture, portraits and fine art. Here I am looking about....



The tour funnelled us through the drawing room, the ballroom and the conservatory. Our mouths were open and our eyebrows raised for much of the progress through the house. It was simply amazing.



Finally we came to the rear and exited through the conservatory into the grounds, where a military band was entertaining the crowd and community organisations provided light refreshments.

I have been in the grounds of Government House before, but this was the first time I'd had the opportunity to see the interior.



It was there in the final room that the Governor, the Honourable William Cox, and his wife Jocelyn, were shaking hands with the visitors. I think the woman in front of me actually curtsied.

As usual whenever I meet important people, my mind went a complete blank. "So, what do you think of our house?" asked His Excellency jovially.

Desperate to say something - anything! - I gabbled something about "Wonderful! It's really...er... wonderful." The governor didn't seem surprised; he probably gets that reaction all the time.

My sister, however, had a real moment of angst. Her camera's batteries had died seconds before the governor and his lady hove into view! A unique photo opportunity lost, alas.

At least we know we were there.

** ** ** **


We didn't do too badly in our first month of Broadband. Between me and my sister Julie we managed to download 6200 MB during peak hours and 1400 MB during off-peak time.

Not bad for a couple of old fogeys, I thought.

I remember the salesman looked a bit surprised when we opted for the 20GB-per-month option on our ADSL, but the next option down was absurdly low. We'd prefer to have too much rather than too little.


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Friday, March 24, 2006

pain, floods and monarchs

cartoon from www.weblogcartoons.com

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.



Yes, I have been slow to update this month. The two things that have had me preoccupied have been my bad back and my sister's struggle with hydrology.

Moving that big market umbrella around the back garden so we could find a spot to sit out on the lawn last Saturday was a mistake. The degenerated disc in my back hasn't bothered me for a long time, but it certainly did this week.

What makes it difficult is that I'm at my stiffest when I get out of bed in the morning, but 75% of all my bending takes place in the first hour after I get up. Feeding cats, put out birdseed, getting dressed... you should see me trying to put on my socks.

A mixture of ibuprofen and paracetemol at various times of the day helped me get through things, but it wasn't much fun. You remember that Bill Cosby routine about hearing himself make the same sound that his father used to make when he got out of bed? That's what I was like.

And what, you ask, of Julie's problems?

Well, if you've seen any pictures of her house you'll have noticed that it's below the level of the road. Recently the front yard has become more and more wet. The dampness slowly spread across the yard and down the side, finally becoming a visible trickle of water.

Muddy patches become puddles. Puddles became pools of water. After a few days I couldn't get from one side of the yard to the other — I had already fallen over once attempting it.

After a few days, Julie phoned the Town Hall and asked if some of this water could be coming from the water pipes in the street. A crew arrived, looked around and dug down to the stopcock for the water supply to Julie's house. They turned this off so they could judge if the water was coming from her pipes or theirs.

Then they left.

And never came back.

Julie waited for a few days. There was no water inside the house, but there was plenty outside. Fortunately she was staying with me so it wasn't a personal difficulty, but she still had to carry water to her animals.

Do you know how much bottled water a horse gets through in a day?

(No, just kidding – there was enough water in the creek for Julie to be able to fill the horse trough with a bucket.)

Finally she phoned the city council again. Nobody seemed to know who it was that had been there the first time. Finally they referred her to what they called "the plumbing inspector".

He duly arrived (it turned out he rejoices in the title of Hydrology Investigation Officer) with an assortment of metal-detectors and other instruments. He went all over the footpath, making cryptic marks on the sidewalk with bright blue paint.

A couple of days later another crew arrived and dug a hole six feet deep in the footpath on Saturday morning. I bet the neighbours were pleased when they cut their way through four inches of cement.

While we were looking down at the water in the bottom of the hole, one of the workmen said conversationally "We've found some more water after that first lot."

I looked at him. "Is this good news or bad news?" I asked.

It must have been a good sign though. Within 36 hours they completed their excavations and filled in the hole. Almost instantly the pools of water around the house began to dry up – they're now just muddy patches and we hope that in another couple of days they'll have dried out.

We live in hope anyway.

I don't know if it was 40 days and 40 nights but it felt like it.

==========


Called in for lunch at a new outlet of Pasta Resistance in Collins Street, just near the entrance to the Chickenfeed discount store. A small restaurant but nicely turned out.

I had the pasta salad with bacon and broccoli and thousand island dressing. Quite acceptable.

==========


I don't pay a lot of attention to sports at the best of times, but I did tune in for the telecast of the opening of the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne.

The climax was the presentation to the Queen of the ceremonial baton. She accepted it and spoke to the assembled athletes.



"One year and one day ago - on Commonwealth Day 2005 - I placed this message in this hi-tech baton. It has since been carried round the Commonwealth on every continent and across every ocean by many thousands of voluntary Queen's Baton Relay runners.

I hope that everyone who saw the Baton during its journey recognised it as a symbol of the unity and diversity of our Commonwealth of Nations. The Commonwealth Games are both a product of our unique organisation as well as a tangible example of the value of this partnership of peoples.

Tonight we celebrate the value of sport as a means of bringing together people from seventy-one nations and territories, and from a wide range of cultures, traditions and beliefs.

As we look forward to the next eleven days, I would like to remind you of the very successful Games at Sydney in 1938, in Perth in 1962, and in Brisbane in 1982. Together they underline the impressive contribution that Australia has made to the successful development of the Commonwealth, and to the encouragement of good sportsmanship and friendliness throughout the Commonwealth.

I am glad to have this opportunity to offer my best wishes to every athlete and official taking part in these 'friendly' Games. I congratulate everyone who has worked tirelessly to organise this great sporting celebration, which I hope will entertain hundreds of millions of people round the world."



==========


FROM THE ARCHIVES:

Radio was seen as eminently practical on the farm, providing the latest
weather forecasts, agricultural market reports, and other information that made
the business of farming more productive. But perhaps more importantly, radio
brought formerly isolated homes into close daily contact with the rest of the
nation. This led many of radio’s developers to believe that the new medium’s
greatest promise would be realized in serving rural listeners. In a 1924 speech at
the University of Missouri, RCA's David Sarnoff argued,

Radio's greatest contribution to civilization lies not so much in what it
does for the city dweller but upon the signal influence it can bring upon
the life and action of our farm population. . . . the message that radio
brings to the farmer is the message of human contact, human sympathy,
and culture


Read more here



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Sunday, March 19, 2006

Sunday morning

Faith withers and dies when the Bible is regarded merely as a collection of men’s thoughts or as a subjective record of God’s actions, mused Charles Colson in an introduction to a book about the Bible.

Timothy 3:14-17 assumes that Timothy would have had a sound knowledge of the Old Testament

2 Peter tells us that the writers of the Bible were guided by the Holy Spirit. This is what we mean when we say they were “inspired”, not in the everyday sense of being inspired to write to Aunt Ethel – the truths they reveal were those communicated by God to Man.

While most people will admit that Jesus existed, there is no way to prove that he was the Son of God. That is where faith comes into play. All our preachers take it as given that the words in the Bible come from God – that it is the final authority for Christians and there is nothing that overrides or supersedes it.

You’ll find the world is full of people who know better than those old-fashioned opinions expressed in the Bible.

We shouldn’t fall into the trap of reading books about the Bible to the exclusion of reading it for ourselves – one of the catchcries of the Reformation translates as “Scripture alone!”

They also used “Scripture interprets Scripture” – difficult passages in the Bible should be interpreted in light of other biblical passages rather than the opinions of pundits and commentators.

In the book of Genesis, Satan begins by attacking our exact understanding of God’s words and all too often that is the attitude of the world: that the Bible needs to be interpreted by experts before we can understand it.

calvin’s preaching of the word of God in 16th century Geneva reversed the downward spiral of that city into spiritual and social decay. The less the church depends on the Bible, the more irrelevant it becomes, then as now.


Lord Your Word shall guide us
and with truth provide us:
teach us to receive it
and with joy believe it.

When our foes are near us,
then Your Word shall cheer us.
Word of consolation,
message of salvation.

When the storms distress us
and dark clouds oppress us,
then Your Word protects us
and its light directs us.

Who can tell the pleasure,
who recount the treasure
by Your Word imparted
to the simple-hearted?

Word of mercy, giving
courage to the living;
Word of life, supplying
comfort to the dying.

O that we discerning
its most holy learning,
Lord, may love and fear You,
evermore be near You







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Saturday, March 11, 2006

Archmides goes visiting




We did eventually get to see Steve Lazarowitz on a more temperate day, taking with us Julie's tamest rooster (who now seems to have been dubbed Captain Archmides).





I showed him how tractable the rooster was....





and he tried it out for himself:





In return he showed us some of his pets.

Who weren't quite as cuddly as the Captain in my opinion:




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Tuesday, March 07, 2006

weeds and weather




The beginning of March marks the official beginning of Autumn - or Fall as our American cousins like to call it - and indeed the first day was refreshingly cooler after those recent oppressively hot days.

It didn't last of course. Friday we had an appointment to see the man who was cutting back the undergrowth at my sister's house, then we were going to go visiting with one of her roosters. (Yes, she was taking with her the chicken that's so tame he stands on her wrist while she walks around.)

But the weather wasn't going to co-operate. We saw the guy at Julie's house (and he's done a wonderful job on clearing the front of all the greenery that was choking it - see above) but the temperature just kept climbing.

Julie looked overwhelmed by it and when it hit 36º [about 97º in the old Fahrenheit scale] we gave up and phoned to cancel. The humidity was just too much for us to handle.

I was surprised the next morning to find that the temperature had dropped 20º without the usual drama of a thunderstorm or a torrential downpour of rain.

Incredibly, the maximum and minimum temperatures for Hobart on Saturday were both just 16º.

Weird!

==========


Monday saw the switching on of the ABC's new FM transmitter in Launceston, transferring ABC Northern Tasmania [the old 7NT] from AM to FM. ABC Hobart remains on AM, but you have to wonder how many more years that will last.

Since FM broadcasting started in Australia back in 1980, the commercial stations have led the exodus from the AM band. Here in southern Tasmania, the AM band is now the province of the ABC and a handful of low-powered community stations.

An entire generation of young people have grown up who probably don't even know there is an AM band on their radio sets.

Still, not to worry. By the time ABC Hobart gets around to going FM, we'll probably be listening to it on radio sets that have streaming internet audio built in.

The first radio set I ever owned had big glowing valves that you could see warming up through the back of the case. That seems a long time ago (and indeed it was - that would have been around 1958).

==========


An example of how we're isolated from the harsher aspects of the modern world.

On Sunday morning the preacher asked for prayer for a friend of one of our congregation (they both sing in the same group) - his son had just been murdered. There was an audible gasp of shock from the people sitting around me.

It started me thinking how removed from violence we are. This is the first time that even a friend of a friend has met an untoward death, and I can't think of the last time when somebody I knew was involved in any sort of violent incident.

Yet this sort of thing is taken for granted in many of the so-called civilized societies around the world. I toddle along in some sort of parallel universe, vaguely aware that somewhere in other places people are being shot, stabbed or strangled, but for all the effect it has on me it may as well be happening on Mars.

Maybe that's why the Port Arthur shootings shook Tasmania so badly in 1996. It was the sort of thing that happened "somewhere else". It was many years before we regained our traditional equanimity.

In fact a couple of years later when one of the tabloid television programmes broadcast an item about killer Martin Bryant that included a sound grab of his voice, I reacted badly to the string of previews for the show.

It was completely out of character for me, but I grabbed the telephone and rang through to the answering machine of the programme in question. "How can you do this?" I barked. "Have you people no shame??"

Apparently the producers were taken aback by the hostile response to the segment and made some token apologies (though it didn't stop them running it). Many people must have felt the same way that I did.

In fact just writing these few words and looking up the exact date of the tragedy is enough to make me feel uncomfortable, ten years on.

Especially noting the number of idiots with web pages claiming that the shootings were part of some conspiracy. If I'd happened to be at Port Arthur that day, I would probably have been dead at the end of the day. Pardon me if I don't feel like considering your crazy ideas objectively.

==========


An intriguing piece in Media Life:

Only a few years ago, many people believed the internet would grow forever, adding new users as it went. Whatever saturation point there might be was years off, only to be reached when all of the country’s households were wired.

But it turns out saturation is already upon us, or nearly so. According to a study by Park Associates, a Dallas-based market research agency, growth in internet penetration this year will rise just one percentage point, from 63 percent to 64 percent. That translates to some 39 million American homes without internet service, and with only 2 million of them planning to go online this year. Roughly 29 percent of the 1,000 households surveyed said they do not even own a computer.

But just why these people, called internet abstainers, are staying away from the web is unclear. Thirty-one percent said they had web access at work, 18 percent said they were not interested in the internet, and 8 percent said they weren’t sure how to use it. Most, 39 percent, simply cited “other” and gave no further explanation for not wanting to be wired.


The verdict seems to be that it's something that will change as the generations do -- like electricity and telephone connections, which are now nearly universal. The modern generation are unlikely to stop using the internet, so its penetration will gradually become almost ubiquitous.

==========



An unusual piece on ABC Radio National's Airplay programme titled "This Hideous Progeny", set on page 182 of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Mary is trying to write the final chapters.

It begins with The Monster rescuing The drowning girl. They are left alone on the page to ponder their fates and consider their past. The Monster becomes increasingly concerned about the development of his character. He is reluctant to become the hideous creature that Shelley appears to be creating.

In a desperate attempt to rewrite history The Monster, The Drowning Girl and a highly versatile The Rustic struggle to keep Mary on the page whilst Percy, Mary’s husband, becomes a constant distraction.

This Hideous Progeny is by Paul Livingston, perhaps better known as cult comedian Flacco. The cast includes Ralph Cotterill as The Monster, Lucy Bell as Mary Shelley, Meaghan Davies as The Drowning Girl, Keith Robinson as The Rustic and Richard Sydenham as Percy.



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Sunday, March 05, 2006

Sunday morning

How do we know anything about God?

Why is there a Bible?

Easy questions? No, but ones that our preacher Robert addressed in this morning’s sermon at church.

Is there a way of discovering things that we can’t understand through our senses? Yes, by revelation. For example, we don’t know what is going on in other’s people’s minds until they tell us. That’s revelation – they reveal this information to us. Similarly there is evidence of God’s feelings towards us.

This comes in two varieties, which the experts call General Revelation and Special Revelation. General Revelation is the sort of thing that’s talked about in Psalm 19 – the created world as evidence of its Creator.

But surveying the stars does not inform us about the personality of He who made them. That’s where Special Revelation comes in: the way God speaks specifically to Man.

In the Old Testament, God worked through middlemen and go-betweens. The prophets and priests received God’s word and passed it on to their fellows. This might come in a vision or a dream or – rather scarily – an actual meeting such as Moses had on the mountain.

In the New Testament, God takes this a step further. He addresses his people directly, speaking to them face-to-face in the person of Jesus Christ. This is the reason that many churches do not believe there are any “new” messages from God being handed down today – after Christ, what else is there to say?

The study of the material world may awe us, but it can never instruct us in the way that the scriptures can.

And that’s why we have the Bible. Q.E.D.


God has spoken by His prophets,
spoken His unchanging Word;
each from age to age proclaiming
God the One, the righteous Lord;
in the world's despair and turmoil
one firm anchor still holds fast:
God is King, His throne eternal,
God the first and God the last.

God has spoken by Christ Jesus,
Christ, the everlasting Son;
brightness of the Father's glory,
with the Father ever one:
spoken by the Word incarnate,
God, before all time began,
Light of light, to earth descending,
Man, revealing God to man.

God is speaking by His Spirit
speaking to the hearts of men;
in the age-long Word expounding
God's own message, now as then.
Through the rise and fall of nations
one sure faith is standing fast:
God abides, His Word unchanging,
God the first and God the last.