So, over here in the UK most credit cards don't have a black magnetic strip like in the states. Instead, they have a little microchip at their tip. Brits insert the card into a special slot which reads the chip, but which is incapable of reading an American-style card (referred to in this part of the world as a "swipe").
This means that I, with my lowly american black stripped card, have to inform the cashier of my backwards and barbaric ways. I have to make a tense, apologetic smile, hold my card between the very tips of my fingers as I wave it in the air, and meekly mumble, "I have a swipe."
Usually these magic words elicit a look of annoyance from the cashier and perhaps a few people in line behind me. This is because reading a swipe card requires a different piece of machinery (which has no doubt been gathering dust on the checkout counter). While this only takes about 15 seconds longer than using a proper card, I guess it's enough to prompt the bitter looks.
Once, instead of a bitter look, I got this refreshingly direct response:
Cashier: Your total is £10.95
Me: I have a swipe.
Cashier: ...why?
In any case, it's a fifty-fifty shot of whether the customer can do the swiping themselves or if the cashier needs to do it.
Now, I really don't mind asking "Do I swipe it or do you?" but at least five times the cashier has replied, "You can do it," then immediately took the card away from me and did it himself. Maybe "you can do it" means something different here...maybe it means, "you can't do it."
The final step of the process is the customer has to sign a copy of the receipt. Pretty standard, right? Except over here they pour a lot of energy into comparing the signature on the receipt to the signature on the back of your card (in the US, I never even had a signature on the back of my card).
One of my first nights here I made the mistake of squiggling a quickie signature at a Subway. The cashier actually threw his head back in shock when he compared it to the one on my card and said, "No...no, these don't look the same." Thankfully, he mustered up the mercy to let me buy my £3 sandwich without going through a DNA test.
Just about an hour ago I was buying groceries and the time came to sign the receipt. Only this time, the ink in the pen was low.
Me: Oh, this one is low on ink. It's hard to write with.
Cashier: That's ok, just sign it.
Me: Ok. I signed it.
Cashier: ...why did you sign it different than on your card?
Me: ...because the ink is low. It's hard to write with.
At this point the cashier produced a new pen and handed it to me. She told me to sign it again, and watched my every move like a hawk. Apparently, I was now a person of interest.
So here I was, signing my own name, buying groceries (the least steal-someone's-card-and-buy-things-with-it thing I can imagine), nervous that my signature will not be up to this woman's expectations of what my signature should look like.
It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world.
Tuesday 2 December 2014
Monday 1 December 2014
In the footsteps of Dickens
An "mp3 walking tour" is where someone posts an audio file online, giving you directions of certain paths to walk in any given city. As you walk, the narrator gives you interesting facts and anecdotes about the area you're exploring. It's very much like having a tour guide, except it's free, at your own pace, and there's zero likelihood of your tour guide being a grumpy old man who hates his job (we've all been there, amiright?)
I found a tour online which is based on the novel Oliver Twist. As you follow the path you are actually retracing the steps that Oliver and John Dawkins ("the Artful Dodger") took to enter London for the first time! (Yes, I understand that Oliver and the Dodger are fake people who never walked on any streets because they were never alive...I'm just trying to make this story more exciting...jeeze, you're such a spoilsport...you're like that grumpy tour guide!)
So, there I was, walking along the streets where Dickens placed his immortal novel, being fed facts about the area, and being read excerpts of the book itself.
One such excerpt, was this one:
"As John Dawkins objected to their entering London before nightfall, it was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached the turnpike at Islington. They crossed from the Angel into St. John's Road; struck down the small street which terminates at Sadler's Wells Theatre; through Exmouth Street and Coppice Row; down the little court by the side of the workhouse; across the classic ground which once bore the name of Hockley-in-the-Hole; thence into Little Saffron Hill; and so into Saffron Hill the Great: along which the Dodger scudded at a rapid pace, directing Oliver to follow close at his heels."
Let's take a closer look at those locations mentioned...
"They crossed from the Angel..."
"...into St. John's road..."
(Though it's St. John's Street here...quit trying to ruin my fun!)
"...struck down the small street which terminates at Sadler's Wells Theatre..."
(Pictured here, still in operation!)
"thence into Little Saffron Hill; and so into Saffron Hill the Great..."
(It's hard to read, but the street sign on the left of the picture says "Saffron Hill.")
Pretty cool, huh!? But there's more too. After The Dodger takes Oliver to meet Fagin...
Who lived somewhere around here!
Fagin and his group of orphans take Oliver to go steal the handkerchiefs of rich people.
"They were just emerging from a narrow court not far from the open square in Clerkenwell, which is yet called, by some strange perversion of terms, 'The Green'."
It's Clerkenwell Green, people!
Oliver is then caught in his attempted robbery and dragged away by the crowd to the local courthouse.
"The crowd had only the satisfaction of accompanying Oliver through two or three streets, and down a place called Mutton Hill, when he was led beneath a low archway, and up a dirty court, into this dispensary of summary justice, by the back way. It was a small paved yard into which they turned."
Again, let's take a closer look at the description...
"...beneath a low archway..."
"...and up a dirty court..."
"...into this dispensary of summary justice, by the back way..."
This area, now covered with apartments, used to be a courthouse. In the novel, the judge is named Mr. Fang. In real life, the judge of this courthouse was named Mr. Lang.
So, that was my day! I think'll I'll look up more tours like this.
Or I could put it this way: "Please, sir, I want some more."
Thursday 20 November 2014
A Tale of Three Meetups...
There's a thing called Meetup.com where you can find people with similar interests and organize them all for a get-together. It's a great method for meeting people, particularly if you're in a new city.
I like to meet people. I'm in a new city. I like great methods!
The first meetup I went to had a general geek theme. Fans of science fiction, fantasy, comic books, animation, etc. (I'm a HUGE fan of et cetera!) were all welcome to meet in a pub and talk about their obsessions.
I went, and it was pretty great! There were about 30 people there and I got to have a good, long discussion with about eight. I met a man in his late 50s who loves comic books, a man in his early 20s who loves Tolkien, and a man in his 40s who may or may not be a pathological liar (if you want more details, you'll have to speak with me in person).
The next meetup I went to wasn't actually organized through meetup.com, but I couldn't very well name this blog entry "A Tale of Two Meetups and One Thing That Was Posted on an Art Gallery's Website." There's an art gallery named The Horse Hospital, after the previous function of their building (which may give you a clue to how old this in-the-middle-of-the-city building really is). They occasionally screen films there and they were screening a British made-for-TV movie called Penda's Fen. Now, I had never heard of Penda's Fen but I went because they were screening the movie using an actual 16mm film strip on an old-timey projector (as opposed to most theaters which have switched to digital projection). I thought it would be cool to check out...turns out I was wrong...it was actually SUPER COOL!
The third meetup I went to was a brand new one where people get together to discuss religion and philosophy. That was super fun and informative, mainly because everyone came from such a diverse background. In addition to four or so Brits we had two Italians, two Arabs, a Frenchman, and me, the only Yankee. The discourse was interesting, fun, and (almost) always very respectful.
There was, however, one fellow who made it a point to nitpick every single statement made, even somethings fairly basic and obvious to everyone else in the room. At one point, after about 90 minutes of this, I made a comment and he said, before I even finished my thought, "Well, I disagree." I nodded my head and stated, very simply, "Of course you do." It got a good laugh from the whole room, except for the disagree-er himself, who I don't think even heard me...he was to busy launching into his nitpicky objection.
Nevertheless, all three meetups were super fun and I intend to do more of them, not only here in London, but even back in CA!
I like to meet people. I'm in a new city. I like great methods!
The first meetup I went to had a general geek theme. Fans of science fiction, fantasy, comic books, animation, etc. (I'm a HUGE fan of et cetera!) were all welcome to meet in a pub and talk about their obsessions.
I went, and it was pretty great! There were about 30 people there and I got to have a good, long discussion with about eight. I met a man in his late 50s who loves comic books, a man in his early 20s who loves Tolkien, and a man in his 40s who may or may not be a pathological liar (if you want more details, you'll have to speak with me in person).
The next meetup I went to wasn't actually organized through meetup.com, but I couldn't very well name this blog entry "A Tale of Two Meetups and One Thing That Was Posted on an Art Gallery's Website." There's an art gallery named The Horse Hospital, after the previous function of their building (which may give you a clue to how old this in-the-middle-of-the-city building really is). They occasionally screen films there and they were screening a British made-for-TV movie called Penda's Fen. Now, I had never heard of Penda's Fen but I went because they were screening the movie using an actual 16mm film strip on an old-timey projector (as opposed to most theaters which have switched to digital projection). I thought it would be cool to check out...turns out I was wrong...it was actually SUPER COOL!
I intentionally sat in the back, next to the projector. Once they started up the film I heard that great whiiiring sound as the film was fed through the machine, and the classic film strip count-down danced across the screen.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, (spliced in frame of some 70s girl's high school picture), 4, 3, 2, 1...
The movie started and it looked pretty great! You know that faded, orange-tinted quality of pictures when they've been sitting in a drawer for 30 years? Just imagine if the bell-bottom wearing people in those pictures started moving around and talking before your very eyes! The story of the movie was pretty interesting too...but the main thing was seeing it on 16mm!
After the screening I went and had a little chat with the projectionist, who I knew wouldn't mind me geeking out about how cool it was. She said that the picture of the girl they spliced into the countdown was actually a very common thing. It was usually tradition for the film lab technicians to put in a picture of one of their female co-workers. I have since done some more research and found out these girls are referred to in the industry as "china girls" most commonly, or sometimes "leader ladies."
The third meetup I went to was a brand new one where people get together to discuss religion and philosophy. That was super fun and informative, mainly because everyone came from such a diverse background. In addition to four or so Brits we had two Italians, two Arabs, a Frenchman, and me, the only Yankee. The discourse was interesting, fun, and (almost) always very respectful.
There was, however, one fellow who made it a point to nitpick every single statement made, even somethings fairly basic and obvious to everyone else in the room. At one point, after about 90 minutes of this, I made a comment and he said, before I even finished my thought, "Well, I disagree." I nodded my head and stated, very simply, "Of course you do." It got a good laugh from the whole room, except for the disagree-er himself, who I don't think even heard me...he was to busy launching into his nitpicky objection.
Nevertheless, all three meetups were super fun and I intend to do more of them, not only here in London, but even back in CA!
To make it up to you...
Hi everyone!
Oop, wait. Let me wipe the cobwebs from my keyboard...
asdrxctfgvyuihjokpl[;]'wqaertyuiop[]xzcbnm,.q23w4e5rtygulihojpml[,;].
(That was me wiping the cobwebs from my keyboard...get it? Because my hand was running across the keys...oh, you got it the first time...sorry.)
Here we are at the ol' blog again! Things have been rather busy over here. I'd come home from a long day of adventuring and see my laptop staring at me from across the room. "Blog," it proclaimed, "blog tonight and blog forevermore!"
Finally, after about a week of resisting, I turned to my possessed laptop and replied: "...m'kay, whatever."
I will post about my adventures very soon (like, within 20 minutes) but I wanted to dedicate this post to explaining why I haven't been blogging, apologize, and make it up to you by including an Ayrton-blog fan favorite...FUN WITH SIGNS!
Oop, wait. Let me wipe the cobwebs from my keyboard...
asdrxctfgvyuihjokpl[;]'wqaertyuiop[]xzcbnm,.q23w4e5rtygulihojpml[,;].
(That was me wiping the cobwebs from my keyboard...get it? Because my hand was running across the keys...oh, you got it the first time...sorry.)
Here we are at the ol' blog again! Things have been rather busy over here. I'd come home from a long day of adventuring and see my laptop staring at me from across the room. "Blog," it proclaimed, "blog tonight and blog forevermore!"
Finally, after about a week of resisting, I turned to my possessed laptop and replied: "...m'kay, whatever."
I will post about my adventures very soon (like, within 20 minutes) but I wanted to dedicate this post to explaining why I haven't been blogging, apologize, and make it up to you by including an Ayrton-blog fan favorite...FUN WITH SIGNS!
No, he gives me life insurance...I don't really feel he owes me more than that...
This is a PSA about looking both ways before crossing the street...showing a car-stricken corpse staring directly into the camera with her cold, dead eyes...IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY!?
Taking the humans as road-kill thing one creepy step further...this whole city needs to see a shrink!
London: creative with depictions of death, unimaginative with cereal names.
I especially like "enjoy essential nutrients."
"I say Margaret, this folic acid and zinc is absolutely delectable!"
Look how excited the British Snap, Crackle, and Pop are.
"SHAPES!"
Thursday 13 November 2014
It's been a long, long, time...
Hi there!
It's been a while. There're actually a few reasons for that:
1) We moved to Des' new flat which originally did not have internet so it was hard to publish a WEB-blog with no internet,
2) Also, because we didn't have internet, it was harder to plan activities for myself, so there wasn't actually that much to report to you guys,
3) I' went back to writing my own fiction, which means I was already spending a lot of time sitting at my computer writing and wasn't in the mood to write the blog too (especially since not that much has happened).
But, over the past few days, enough interesting things have accumulated that I decided to dust off the ol' blog and give you good people an update.
I'd been going to the local Starbucks frequently because, for the price of an orange juice, I had a place to sit down and access the internet (check my e-mail, talk to people back home, etc). Although at first I went there only as an excuse to use their free internet, I grew to really like the Notting Hill Starbucks environment.
My first night there, the manager walked around the store, handing customers free paninis! "These are for you to try," she said, "they're our new Christmas paninis." Now, most places, when they have a new food item, will expect you to bear all the risk of trying it out: just buy it and if you don't like it then better luck next time! The occasional establishment will find it in their corporate hearts to offer you a small sample of the new dish, upon request. But, if you want more than a mouthful, you'll need to fork over your cash. This Starbucks, however, gave us a whole, 6-inch panini...no charge!
I went back in the next day, and the Mystical Giving Manager was there again. Rather than offering me more free food, however, she offered me a "Hey, you were here last night!" greeting, and a high-five! How cool is that, I thought, there's no way this will ever get weird or creepy!
It got a little weird and creepy.
One day I ordered a cheese and ham sandwich. As they delivered it to me, the server said, "This one has way more cheese than usual, sorry about that." No apologies necessary my friend.
So far so good, but Des came home one day and mentioned how she'd been to Starbucks. Somehow (by the hand of Fate?) she mentioned that she'd ordered a three cheese sandwich. "The guy said that it had way more cheese..."
"More cheese than usual!?" I interrupted. She gave me a yeah-how-do-you-know look.
Now, I've seen a lot of movies, and whenever a nice group of people are revealed to have some sort of script they follow when dealing with new people....it's usually a sign that they are a group of man-eating aliens. The free paninis were no doubt meant to fatten us up!
I still think I'll be going back there, though...those paninis sure were delicious...
It's been a while. There're actually a few reasons for that:
1) We moved to Des' new flat which originally did not have internet so it was hard to publish a WEB-blog with no internet,
2) Also, because we didn't have internet, it was harder to plan activities for myself, so there wasn't actually that much to report to you guys,
3) I' went back to writing my own fiction, which means I was already spending a lot of time sitting at my computer writing and wasn't in the mood to write the blog too (especially since not that much has happened).
But, over the past few days, enough interesting things have accumulated that I decided to dust off the ol' blog and give you good people an update.
I'd been going to the local Starbucks frequently because, for the price of an orange juice, I had a place to sit down and access the internet (check my e-mail, talk to people back home, etc). Although at first I went there only as an excuse to use their free internet, I grew to really like the Notting Hill Starbucks environment.
My first night there, the manager walked around the store, handing customers free paninis! "These are for you to try," she said, "they're our new Christmas paninis." Now, most places, when they have a new food item, will expect you to bear all the risk of trying it out: just buy it and if you don't like it then better luck next time! The occasional establishment will find it in their corporate hearts to offer you a small sample of the new dish, upon request. But, if you want more than a mouthful, you'll need to fork over your cash. This Starbucks, however, gave us a whole, 6-inch panini...no charge!
I went back in the next day, and the Mystical Giving Manager was there again. Rather than offering me more free food, however, she offered me a "Hey, you were here last night!" greeting, and a high-five! How cool is that, I thought, there's no way this will ever get weird or creepy!
It got a little weird and creepy.
One day I ordered a cheese and ham sandwich. As they delivered it to me, the server said, "This one has way more cheese than usual, sorry about that." No apologies necessary my friend.
So far so good, but Des came home one day and mentioned how she'd been to Starbucks. Somehow (by the hand of Fate?) she mentioned that she'd ordered a three cheese sandwich. "The guy said that it had way more cheese..."
"More cheese than usual!?" I interrupted. She gave me a yeah-how-do-you-know look.
Now, I've seen a lot of movies, and whenever a nice group of people are revealed to have some sort of script they follow when dealing with new people....it's usually a sign that they are a group of man-eating aliens. The free paninis were no doubt meant to fatten us up!
I still think I'll be going back there, though...those paninis sure were delicious...
Sunday 9 November 2014
The Dichotomous Bouncer
(Written the 9th, concerning the 8th...ya know how I do)
It was a very mellow day.
Des, Alec, and I went to brunch at a bowling alley/restaurant. The food was quite tasty and the employees were quite sassy (in a good way). When we were done eating a fellow came and cleared out dishes. He also started collecting the catsup so I decided to give him a hand and slide the hot sauce closer to him.
His response (remember, this is with a british accent), "Oh, so this is you helping me, is it? Sliding the sauce from there to here. Yeah, big help... I've got an afternoon rush coming in, THAT would be the time to actually help me."
Just written out in blog form that sounds horribly rude, but his inflection and attitude were actually really funny and I could tell he was joking (albeit in a dry, poker-faced way).
After that we hung out in the flat a while. Caught some rugby on TV.
That evening we went to a birthday party for an American friend of Des's. I thought it might be weird to go but Des and her friend both insisted I come along. "Well, I won't insult you by saying no...."
The party was in the basement of a downtown London pub. At the front door there was a man checking that everyone entering was of the drinking age (which is 18 here), but his approach was most unique. He'd point at people as they came in and make one of two proclamations: "18, in you go!" or "16, let's have your ID!"
Apparently, 18 and 16 are the only possible ages. While I was proclaimed to 18, the 30 year-old birthday girl was selected out for further screening. In his defense, she did have a very young-looking face.
The party went on for quite a while. There were exceptionally delicious tater tots (which apparently are rare in this country to begin with), crispy chicken wings, and cheese-stuffed burgers.
With my first bite of said burger an explosion of cheese erupted into my face and up my sleeve (like, to the shoulder)! They jam-packed that thing!
The people there provided very interesting conversation (a Russian-born American lawyer turned British graphic designer, and an aspiring British novelist, to name only two).
All in all, a lovely time!
It was a very mellow day.
Des, Alec, and I went to brunch at a bowling alley/restaurant. The food was quite tasty and the employees were quite sassy (in a good way). When we were done eating a fellow came and cleared out dishes. He also started collecting the catsup so I decided to give him a hand and slide the hot sauce closer to him.
His response (remember, this is with a british accent), "Oh, so this is you helping me, is it? Sliding the sauce from there to here. Yeah, big help... I've got an afternoon rush coming in, THAT would be the time to actually help me."
Just written out in blog form that sounds horribly rude, but his inflection and attitude were actually really funny and I could tell he was joking (albeit in a dry, poker-faced way).
After that we hung out in the flat a while. Caught some rugby on TV.
That evening we went to a birthday party for an American friend of Des's. I thought it might be weird to go but Des and her friend both insisted I come along. "Well, I won't insult you by saying no...."
The party was in the basement of a downtown London pub. At the front door there was a man checking that everyone entering was of the drinking age (which is 18 here), but his approach was most unique. He'd point at people as they came in and make one of two proclamations: "18, in you go!" or "16, let's have your ID!"
Apparently, 18 and 16 are the only possible ages. While I was proclaimed to 18, the 30 year-old birthday girl was selected out for further screening. In his defense, she did have a very young-looking face.
The party went on for quite a while. There were exceptionally delicious tater tots (which apparently are rare in this country to begin with), crispy chicken wings, and cheese-stuffed burgers.
With my first bite of said burger an explosion of cheese erupted into my face and up my sleeve (like, to the shoulder)! They jam-packed that thing!
The people there provided very interesting conversation (a Russian-born American lawyer turned British graphic designer, and an aspiring British novelist, to name only two).
All in all, a lovely time!
Saturday 8 November 2014
Christopher Nolan and the Avant Garde
(Posted the 8th, concerning the 7th...you get the drill)
I helped Des and Alec move some luggage to their new flat (apartment) in Notting Hill.
The new flat is nestled snuggly about ten feet below street level. A small set of stairs leads down from the sidewalk to a cozy courtyard which, in turn, leads to the flat's front door.
The front door is painted magenta and its door knob is placed smack-dab in the middle of the door, hobbit-style! The keys to the front door are of the old-timey mortice key variety. If this door were any more charming, I'd have been turned into a frog!
Inside the flat we met a kindly chap (a "chap" is like a "bloke" but he pays his child support on time) who was the house inspector. He gave the flat a through look-over and declared it to be in great condition!
After that, we went to a local mall where Alec and I saw the new Christopher Nolan movie, Interstellar, while Des did some shopping.
We had pre-ordered our movie tickets online for the 4pm showing but decided we wanted to see the earlier, 3pm, showing. The theatre management was totally cool with that and let us just walk on back to the screening rooms without going to the trouble of printing us new tickets. Though it did make us a few minutes late to the show time.
We went to the screen marked on our tickets and had a seat. The movie had already started without us but, at the most, we'd only missed a couple minutes.
The beginning of the movie was rather confusing. Characters, locations, and robots were being flung at us with no explanation or introduction.
"What an intriguing way to start a movie" I thought, "It almost feels like it's the end of a different movie...like, Christopher Nolan decided to make a sequel without ever making the first one. How daring and bold!"
Then the music started to kick in...sweeping organ music that slowly built higher and higher...as if it were going to reach a climax very soon.
"Even the soundtrack sounds like it's from the end of a movie! Man, Nolan is really running all the way with this. He truly is a cutting-edge artist."
Only, it didn't feel at all like a beginning any more. Not even a cutting-edge beginning. It totally felt like the end of a movie.
I turned to Alec and whispered: "Is this the end of the movie?"
Three seconds later the credits starting rolling.
"Oooooooooh! That makes SO much more sense."
Turns out, we went to the screen listed on our tickets, but our tickets, and the screen listed on them, were still for the 4pm show. We were catching the tail end of the 1pm showing at that same screen.
We left the theatre asked the management where the heck the 3pm showing was and he told us. We were officially 15 minutes late to the movie now.
BUT, thank goodness for long previews. We got there in plenty of time to watch the movie from the start. It was really, really good despite the fact that we already knew how it ended.
After that, we went back to the original flat (not the new one, we don't move there until Monday) and went to sleep.
"Don't give away the ending -- it's the only one we have!"
- Alfred Hitchcock
I helped Des and Alec move some luggage to their new flat (apartment) in Notting Hill.
The new flat is nestled snuggly about ten feet below street level. A small set of stairs leads down from the sidewalk to a cozy courtyard which, in turn, leads to the flat's front door.
The front door is painted magenta and its door knob is placed smack-dab in the middle of the door, hobbit-style! The keys to the front door are of the old-timey mortice key variety. If this door were any more charming, I'd have been turned into a frog!
Inside the flat we met a kindly chap (a "chap" is like a "bloke" but he pays his child support on time) who was the house inspector. He gave the flat a through look-over and declared it to be in great condition!
After that, we went to a local mall where Alec and I saw the new Christopher Nolan movie, Interstellar, while Des did some shopping.
We had pre-ordered our movie tickets online for the 4pm showing but decided we wanted to see the earlier, 3pm, showing. The theatre management was totally cool with that and let us just walk on back to the screening rooms without going to the trouble of printing us new tickets. Though it did make us a few minutes late to the show time.
We went to the screen marked on our tickets and had a seat. The movie had already started without us but, at the most, we'd only missed a couple minutes.
The beginning of the movie was rather confusing. Characters, locations, and robots were being flung at us with no explanation or introduction.
"What an intriguing way to start a movie" I thought, "It almost feels like it's the end of a different movie...like, Christopher Nolan decided to make a sequel without ever making the first one. How daring and bold!"
Then the music started to kick in...sweeping organ music that slowly built higher and higher...as if it were going to reach a climax very soon.
"Even the soundtrack sounds like it's from the end of a movie! Man, Nolan is really running all the way with this. He truly is a cutting-edge artist."
Only, it didn't feel at all like a beginning any more. Not even a cutting-edge beginning. It totally felt like the end of a movie.
I turned to Alec and whispered: "Is this the end of the movie?"
Three seconds later the credits starting rolling.
"Oooooooooh! That makes SO much more sense."
Turns out, we went to the screen listed on our tickets, but our tickets, and the screen listed on them, were still for the 4pm show. We were catching the tail end of the 1pm showing at that same screen.
We left the theatre asked the management where the heck the 3pm showing was and he told us. We were officially 15 minutes late to the movie now.
BUT, thank goodness for long previews. We got there in plenty of time to watch the movie from the start. It was really, really good despite the fact that we already knew how it ended.
After that, we went back to the original flat (not the new one, we don't move there until Monday) and went to sleep.
"Don't give away the ending -- it's the only one we have!"
- Alfred Hitchcock
Friday 7 November 2014
"Would anyone like...a peanut?"
(Ok, let's get this one thing straight...I don't have time to write a blog post after I get home from all the great London activities n' such, so this whole posts-actually-being-about-the-day-before-their-posted-date thing is going to be a regular thing. If you don't like it, then this is the time to just walk away. Don't let the "back" button hit you on the way out, ok pal?)
The 6th of November was dedicated to one thing and one thing only...going to the filming location of one of my favorite movies, Shaun of the Dead!
Shaun of the Dead is a British comedy about an ordinary London bloke trying to get back together with his girlfriend...oh, and also the zombie apocalypse is happening at the same time. The plot of the film revolves around them all trying to get to their favorite pub, The Winchester, in order to blockade it like a fortress, wait out the End of Days, and mend their relationship over a few pints.
I went to go see the Winchester!
It's a good thing that was the only thing I had planned, because getting there was a major pain. I had to take the "Overground" (a subway that runs above ground, rather like the Chicago "L"), which was very, very late. Apparently this is a common occurrence, because there were signs around the station promising that "the Overground runs on time now more than ever before!"...Don't let them see your desperation, London.
The Overground took me down south. Turns out, down South is not the nicest of all possible neighborhoods.
The 6th of November was dedicated to one thing and one thing only...going to the filming location of one of my favorite movies, Shaun of the Dead!
Shaun of the Dead is a British comedy about an ordinary London bloke trying to get back together with his girlfriend...oh, and also the zombie apocalypse is happening at the same time. The plot of the film revolves around them all trying to get to their favorite pub, The Winchester, in order to blockade it like a fortress, wait out the End of Days, and mend their relationship over a few pints.
I went to go see the Winchester!
It's a good thing that was the only thing I had planned, because getting there was a major pain. I had to take the "Overground" (a subway that runs above ground, rather like the Chicago "L"), which was very, very late. Apparently this is a common occurrence, because there were signs around the station promising that "the Overground runs on time now more than ever before!"...Don't let them see your desperation, London.
The Overground took me down south. Turns out, down South is not the nicest of all possible neighborhoods.
How bad could it be? This car is made of gold!
Also, there was no internet to connect to, and the streets are impossible to navigate, mostly because street names are only posted once every eight blocks or so. So what should have been a ten minute walk took easily forty-five.
Was it worth it?
YES!!
Look, here are the actors... And here's me!
Sadly, the building was all closed down and empty and sad and in a sketchy neighborhood...
But still. Awesome!
Well, as I said...that's all that really happened that day.
So, to pad this post a bit, let's have fun with more British signs!
Ah, the postmodern vandal.
A little tact and diplomacy won't hurt YOU, sign.
This would make an awesome album cover.
Bye, folks!
Thursday 6 November 2014
Remember, Remember...
(Note: Once again, this was posted on the 6th but it describes the events of the 5th...what a pathetic creature I am!)
"Remember, remember the 5th of November,
the gunpowder treason and plot,
I can think of no reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot."
- Elrond Halfelven, King of Rivendel
The 5th of November (also known as Bonfire Night, also known as Guy Fawkes Night) is a British holiday commemorating an unsuccessful attempt by Jesuit radicals to blow up a protestant controlled Parliament along with King James the 2nd. It is celebrated with bonfires, effigies, and the wearing of masks in the likeness of one of the thrawrted bombers, Guy Fawkes.
Woke up at 5 am again. Fell asleep again around 9 and slept until 11. Jet lag is a harsh mistress.
Des and I rode a bus to The Tower of London. Famed for having been built a long time ago, having housed a lot of soon-to-be-dead people, and featuring a hammy performance by Basil Rathbone. The oldest sections were built nearly a thousand years ago, and apparently most of the people coming to visit it were in their 30s while it was being built...because they're so old...did you...did that make sense?
"Remember, remember the 5th of November,
the gunpowder treason and plot,
I can think of no reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot."
- Elrond Halfelven, King of Rivendel
The 5th of November (also known as Bonfire Night, also known as Guy Fawkes Night) is a British holiday commemorating an unsuccessful attempt by Jesuit radicals to blow up a protestant controlled Parliament along with King James the 2nd. It is celebrated with bonfires, effigies, and the wearing of masks in the likeness of one of the thrawrted bombers, Guy Fawkes.
Woke up at 5 am again. Fell asleep again around 9 and slept until 11. Jet lag is a harsh mistress.
Des and I rode a bus to The Tower of London. Famed for having been built a long time ago, having housed a lot of soon-to-be-dead people, and featuring a hammy performance by Basil Rathbone. The oldest sections were built nearly a thousand years ago, and apparently most of the people coming to visit it were in their 30s while it was being built...because they're so old...did you...did that make sense?
"We want to see a beheading!"
Scattered all about the lawn were metal poppies as a further war memorial. The poppies were meant to be taken down this weekend, but apparently public demand...demanded that they stay up longer, so they will. I know of at least one critic of this decision. A little British boy was insistently asking his mum (mom), "But when are they going to be taken dooooooooown?"
That's right kid, take a bull-dozer to the whole lot!
After that, we rode another bus up to Chelsea...the ritzy neighborhood in the city that invented ritz. They also invented calling people out for being so slow...
If a grandmum becomes confused and starts grazing in the middle of the street, just honk your horn. That should spook her into galloping home.
While walking, I found a two-pence coin sitting on the sidewalk. I picked it up only to hear a shout from down the street. One window cleaner was shouting to his buddy: "Oy! He's taking your money!"
I assume he was joking. Two pence is worth about an american nickle.
In any case, finders keepers, so I just kept walking.
Gosh, I hope he was joking...and isn't some sort of master assassin.
We then rode a bus to the London Theatre (theater) district...no, not to partake in London's rich theatrical heritage. That just happens to be where the comic book shoppe (shop) Forbidden Planet is located! It was at this point in the day that Des decided to go her own way. The idea of a room full of sweaty nerds didn't seem to appeal to her...odd.
To those of us who've made our peace with body odor...Forbidden Planet was the greatest! Cool statuettes, nerd-based clothes, and comics, comics, comics!
Watch out, Batman! Flaming Harry Potter is right behind you!...Or did the fiery burst of the Batmobile's jets light Harry Potter on fire?...Either way. Awesome.
Probably because it was the 5th of November, they had a V for Vendetta display, complete with overpriced Guy Fawkes masks.
"Remember, remember, the 5th of November,
the selfie with no intention to buy..."
I then found my way to an awesome used book store, with some cool books starting as low as 50 pence (~70 cents)! I got some British classics (William Blake and G.K. Chesterton) as well as a super cool Tim Burton book!
After that, I met up again with Des near the Parliament building. I heard that there'd be a lot of activity down there for the 5th. What we found instead were three policemen on every corner, security cameras set up everywhere you can possibly imagine, public parks preemptively fenced off, and large signs proclaiming, "No Activity. No bonfires. No playing of loud music." Viva la revolucion? (In London's defense, the cameras are always there...always watching...wait, did I say "in London's defense"? I meant to say, "to the great shame of any Londoner who's read 1984").
Turns out that a parade would later pass through that area and they didn't want any other activity (political or otherwise) disrupting it. I did, however, see one woman casually wearing a Guy Fawkes mask and another fellow who'd obviously shaved his beard to better match Mr. Fawke's goatee.
In any case, Des and I fled the scene and met up with her husband Alec for Fish n' Chips (I know, cliched) at a local pub (I know, cliched). There was football (soccer) on the TV (I know, cliched) and Des and Alec each had a pint of beer (...do I really need to keep doing this?). The food was delicious.
Then we went back to the flat and drifted off to sleep to the sound of fireworks.
"Penny for the guy?"
Tuesday 4 November 2014
Watch out London, here comes Mr. Duffington!
"Woke up this morning...blues sitting on my face."
- Creepy song
I was tapped awake by my sister, Des. She wanted to tell me that the cleaners may be coming sometime within the next few hours. Uhm...ok. Could you maybe wake me up within the next few hours instead?
In any event I was officially awake. So I ate some cereal. No, not Multigrain Hoops...Crunchy Nut, if you must know.
You musn't, right? Didn't think so.
Anyway, we went down to the "tube station" to get me a unlimited one-month transport pass, inexplicably named "The Oyster." At the counter, I told the bloke (man) behind the counter, "I'd like an Oyster pass for this month, please."
He stared at me blankly.
Des then said to him, "he needs a monthly oyster pass."
"Ok, it'll take just a moment," he replied immediately.
Isn't that what I said?
I used my new pass to take the tube to downtown London. All around I'd been seeing people wearing plastic red poppy lapels. Des informed me that it's sort of like Memorial Day in London, but instead of a day it's a week, and instead of getting a day off you have to go out and buy a small plastic lapel. There was one on the floor of my tubecar. I debated picking it up and putting it on while an old lady saw it lying in her path and angrily kicked it in my direction. I guess it was meant to be mine. It sat in my jacket button hole all day.
I'd like to thank that angry, unpatriotic old woman. In fact, I'd like to thank all the angry, unpatriotic old women. You know you my girlz!
Des and I got off the tube and transferred to a cool double-decker bus. We sat on the top deck and I cringed every time we hit a red light because the driver would stop the car what seemed like only inches behind the motorcyclist in front of us.
We got off the bus and went to Westminster Abbey, Parliament, and Big Ben. They were all classic and great.
We then went to Buckingham Palace. It was actually surprisingly lame compared to the other sights of the day. It looked like a bank. We did see a punky young brit who looked a bit like Prince Harry running around out front. "Harry, what in blazes are you doin' out here?...Right, back in the palace then. Off you go, lad!"
Joking in that voice caused me to create a new character: Mr. Duffington (as in, " 'Ello there, it's your ol' pal Duffington!"). He's a proud citizen of some rural English town, visiting the big city for the first time. Here's a picture of him:
Then we went back to the flat. Then I wrote this blog. Then I was done. Then I kept writing even though it was clearly past the time to stop.
End of part 2. Insert VHS tape 2 to continue (but make sure it's rewound all the way!)
- Creepy song
I was tapped awake by my sister, Des. She wanted to tell me that the cleaners may be coming sometime within the next few hours. Uhm...ok. Could you maybe wake me up within the next few hours instead?
In any event I was officially awake. So I ate some cereal. No, not Multigrain Hoops...Crunchy Nut, if you must know.
You musn't, right? Didn't think so.
Anyway, we went down to the "tube station" to get me a unlimited one-month transport pass, inexplicably named "The Oyster." At the counter, I told the bloke (man) behind the counter, "I'd like an Oyster pass for this month, please."
He stared at me blankly.
Des then said to him, "he needs a monthly oyster pass."
"Ok, it'll take just a moment," he replied immediately.
Isn't that what I said?
I used my new pass to take the tube to downtown London. All around I'd been seeing people wearing plastic red poppy lapels. Des informed me that it's sort of like Memorial Day in London, but instead of a day it's a week, and instead of getting a day off you have to go out and buy a small plastic lapel. There was one on the floor of my tubecar. I debated picking it up and putting it on while an old lady saw it lying in her path and angrily kicked it in my direction. I guess it was meant to be mine. It sat in my jacket button hole all day.
I'd like to thank that angry, unpatriotic old woman. In fact, I'd like to thank all the angry, unpatriotic old women. You know you my girlz!
Des and I got off the tube and transferred to a cool double-decker bus. We sat on the top deck and I cringed every time we hit a red light because the driver would stop the car what seemed like only inches behind the motorcyclist in front of us.
We got off the bus and went to Westminster Abbey, Parliament, and Big Ben. They were all classic and great.
We then went to Buckingham Palace. It was actually surprisingly lame compared to the other sights of the day. It looked like a bank. We did see a punky young brit who looked a bit like Prince Harry running around out front. "Harry, what in blazes are you doin' out here?...Right, back in the palace then. Off you go, lad!"
Joking in that voice caused me to create a new character: Mr. Duffington (as in, " 'Ello there, it's your ol' pal Duffington!"). He's a proud citizen of some rural English town, visiting the big city for the first time. Here's a picture of him:
"Police have advised Londoners to be on the look out for this man. He sometimes answers to the nickname 'Duffy,' and is extremely excited about the most mundane parts of city life."
Then we went back to the flat. Then I wrote this blog. Then I was done. Then I kept writing even though it was clearly past the time to stop.
End of part 2. Insert VHS tape 2 to continue (but make sure it's rewound all the way!)
London Calling (let it go to voicemail)!
(Note: The following was published November 4th but actually details the events of November 2nd and 3rd...I'm sorry to have lied to you, but I thought you should hear it from me...)
Flight was fine...wish I had something exciting to say about it, but I don’t.
Flight was fine...wish I had something exciting to say about it, but I don’t.
Watched two movies, Pacific Rim and Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but I only enjoyed one...canyaguesswhich?
Only slept in two two-hour bursts.
Arrived in London and had to answer questions from customs. I didn’t know they’d want to see an e-mail copy of return itinerary. That meant I had to turn on my phone, choose the wrong wifi provider, choose the right wifi provider, sign up with the wifi provider, etc. The fellow behind me in the Marilyn-Monroe-in-skanky-49ers-clothes was visibly impatient. I alerted the cutsoms official to his annoyance. “Well, he can be annoyed,” she replied, frankly.
She was right, of course. He can!
Then Des picked me up and we rode the “tube” to her place. There was a man who reeked of cat urine, and another man who had the most British voice imaginable: “There was a rather amusing e-mail circulating about the office…”
We got to the flat and I tried my darndest not to fall asleep to cheap British cop shows or lame American sit-coms. One US sit-com was advertised as “the hit American series”...of course, I’ve never heard of it.
Turns out I did fall asleep for a few minutes.
We then walked Bailey around the neighborhood. Cobblestone paths, mandolin players under muraled overpasses, rain. You know, London!
Had some frozen pizza for dinner and some “biscuits” (cookies) which were “smashing” (good) and went by the name “Digestives” (terrible marketing).
But seriously, there is a serious need for marketing professionals here. A breakfast cereal here is named “Multigrain Hoops.” Apparently, british corporations allow the R&D guys to name the products.
After that, at around 10pm local time, I fell asleep.
I awoke again to middle-of-the-night darkness. I checked my phone to see what time it was: 11pm. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I said out loud, like someone in a movie with lazy writing.
I decided to double check my phone’s report...good thing...it was in fact 3am. My phone must have never switched the time zone since somewhere in the US.
I was so glad that my body didn’t thrust me from the sweet embrace of sleep after only one hour that it took me a good while to realize that four hours of sleep is only marginally better. 3am is not a good time to be awake.
But I couldn't sleep. So I spent a couple hours checking up on how best to contact folks back home (since Skype doesn't work on my computer). After two hours, I realized that Skype works on my phone. I am a model of efficiency!
Eventually, I forced myself to sleep.
End of Part 1. Please eject your cassette and turn it over to side B.
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