Saturday, 25 October 2008

Resent the New Labour Nanny State? Man, you ain't seen nothin'

A lot of people don't like being told what to do. Posh people who need to keep their beaks out of other peoples' business need to stop telling us what to do. Apparently. It was never like this. Apparently.

Huge numbers of people hold a grudge after the smoking in public places thing, no one likes to be told not to drop litter, slow down in their cars, pay their taxes and so on. However the British Film Institute archive have a large number of public information films designed to be shown in cinemas and in public meetings.

Do you think, in war time Britain we needed to be told how to make tea. No?

Check these two spiffing Cockney gels and their swivel eyed mentor teaching Grandma to suck eggs.......

Remember - "pot to kettle, NEVER kettle to pot".

How about this extraordinary film for adolescent girls from 1951

That wonderful RP accent - "Dewn't worray if you feel sleck or lazay".

I never do, dear, I never do.

But this one takes the biscuit. How to pack a suitcase, anyone?

Ah, the good old days.

Sunday, 12 October 2008

Eye, eye

Anyone who's ever clapped eyes on me knows I am prone to deep purple-red blushes whenever I'm stressed, whenever I'm upset, whenever I'm too warm, whenever I'm too cold, whenever I've just gone from a cold area to a warm area, whenever....... oh, just well, whenever, really.

It's normally just a harmless blush and related to the rosacea that I occasionally need to seek treatment for. Now and again, I develop a deep red rash with little spots that thickens up the skin around my nose and mouth and makes me look like I sniff glue.

No one told me that there is such a thing as ocular rosacea. There's me thinking that the worst I could hope for is rhinophyma or 'drinker's nose'. An irony considering my hypersensitivity to alcohol and my teetotalism.

But no. My allergy to my safety specs has triggered ocular rosacea predominantly affecting my right eye. Permanently itching and, at best, only mildy bloodshot, I now have three sets of eye drops to contend with.

On first waking, the sodium cromoglycate and then the antibiotic drops, later on (as I am just about to go out the front door to work) the artificial tears which I bring with me for "as required" use.

As I go to bed, more sodium cromoglycate and more antibiotic drops. Just before I hit the pillow, more artificial tears.

Now it's started, this may well be a permanent feature.

This is on top of the nasal inhaler, the oral inhalers and the antihistamine, the antidepressant and the antibiotic tablets I have to take to keep everything else down to a dull roar.

Oh, and the multivitamin and the calcium tablets. Just in case.


Friday, 3 October 2008

Ear Worms 1 : Sanity 0. I blame my childhood.

I've had the chorus of a stupid song running around my head now for about a week.

Then I made it worse.

I typed what little I could remember about it into Google and pressed enter.

It's on YouTube.


Now I can sing all the words to the chorus and hum the entire tune.

And it's from the 70s. The decade that left fashion looking like it had been caught in a hit and run.

Check out The Sweet. The guitar player with the silver tights and hot pants - that's a guy.

See if you can spot the craaazeee green afro sported by a white audience member, the girl in the white vest and mini skirt who reeeeeealy fancies herself and the brief flash of the smock-wearing escapee from a Jethro Tull gig.

Ah yes, when true rock stars wore spandex, high heels, sunshine yellow trousers and blouses and stripy tank tops!?

All together now

'Cos Little Willy Willy won't go home,
But you can't push Willy round Willy won't go,
Tried telling everybody but woah no!
Little Willy Willy won't go home!


Thursday, 2 October 2008

What happens when..............

you're allergic to your prescription safety glasses?

More specifically the little nose pads that help to keep the glasses on my face.

I got a pair of glasses made and wore them for a while but the prescription was too short. This meant that anything beyond the length of my arms was slightly blurry.

Not good. Especially when I had trouble distinguishing just who was at the other end of the corridor - was that Arthur or Martha down there?

Annoyingly the frame was also loose and the bins kept slipping down my nose. Irritating when I need both hands to do something and I'm relying on my specs to help me see what I'm doing and protect me while I do it.

And then, just for added laughs, the greasy little nose pads were made of (or with) something that brought the bridge of my nose out in a tender, bright red, rosasic rash.

I brought them back to the optician and demonstrated the various problems. They tightened the frames, changed the nose pads and only then took them off me to send them back to the manufacturer for a new 'walking around' prescription.

Now they're back.

I collected them on Sunday, wore them for two days and on Wednesday, I woke up able to see the red and swollen bridge of my nose in my field of vision. It looked like I'd had my nose broken in a fight.

I brought them back this evening after work. I was told that as it was a Health and Safety matter, I would have to take it up with my Health and Safety Officer and they would have to take it from there.