On being undeleted

I joined the local library last week.

"Aha!" you say, "but aren't you a man of letters who reads copious quantities of literature?  Surely you must belong to a library?"

The fact is that I got my first library membership when I was around the five mark.  Since then I have sucked the words off pages from just about any library within reach.  I was on first name terms with the librarians and the only problem lay in finding a book that I hadn't read.

That all stopped a few years ago.  I don't know why.  I just stopped going to the library and bought books new or secondhand instead.  I suppose it gave me a wider choice, and for the new books at least, it was handy having them delivered by post.

I dropped into the local branch library on Friday, more to say Howya than anything else.  There was a nice catty woman behind the desk, and it transpired that she was new to the place too.  I showed her my ancient plastic library cards and she scanned them into her computer.  Gone are the good old days of paper tickets and little card envelopes.

Yes, she had a record of my card number but no record of me.  I had been deleted.  She said that was no problem and that she would set me up again, but this required looking through a massive page of instructions on entering new members as she hadn't done it before.

Eventually after about twenty minutes of frantic typing, deleting, re-typing and desperate flicking through the manual she announced that I was now a member again.  She then started telling me all the wonderful things I could do with my new membership. 

I could borrow books [I had guessed that already] but there was a whole load of stuff I could do if I had a computer.  I told her that I had one of those. 

She looked pleased and announced I could then learn a language if I had a computer.  Apparently there are 72 languages I can teach myself from the comfort of my armchair.  I told her I had enough trouble with the one I use every day and that adding another would ony confuse me.

She said I could read magazines.  Now the ony time I ever read magazines is in a waiting room, so the idea didn't really appeal as it had unpleasant associations.

She said I could do a course.  Now this was more up my street.  She said there were more than 400 courses I could take all in the comfort of home.  She suggested I start by taking a course in Beginner's Computing.  I coughed.  I said that was an excellent idea but did they have advanced courses in C++, Boolian logic or database design?  She coughed.  She said she didn't know.  

Anyhows I thanked her very much, grabbed a couple of books and left.

This morning I remembered the thing about the courses, so I went onto the website.  I entered my card number and set up an account.

Well, bugger me with a broomstick but there are some good ones in there!  There is a massive list of categories from Accounting to Writing Skills.  I might have a bash at the latter some time.  I could do with some improvement. 

I think I'll start though with "Creating WordPress Websites".

I often wondered how that was done.

Having a Late Life Crisis

I have a small problem.

I realised during the week that there was a major omission in my life. 

I had never had a Mid Life Crisis!

I am led to believe that a MLC is one of the essentials in life on the way to seniority and ultimately old age.  In my younger days I used to look forward to entering that phase of buying motor bikes, growing my hair even longer, wearing gold medallions and having limitless affairs, but when the time came I seem to have forgotten about it.

So I am wondering if there is some kind of statute of limitations on MLCs?  Could I still have one if I try hard enough?

I know a MLC is supposed to be a vain and fruitless attempt to recapture past youth, so is there a Late Life Crisis where I can attempt to capture my Mid Life years?  This could work quite well, as during my recaptured Mid Life I could then have a Mid Life Crisis [being an essential ingredient of Mid Life], to bring me back even further.

I could do the motor bike thing.  I quite fancy one of those yokes with tyres that look like they're off a lorry, or even a three wheeler with Easy Rider handlebars.  I'm getting a bit long in the tooth for chasing dolly birds though, as these days I find that when I catch them, I'm a little out of breath.  Young women seem to run a lot faster these days.

But then is it worth it?  During my Mid Life I was stuck with a mortgage and a job that was passable but which I wouldn't want to repeat.  And then there was all the hassle of a teenage daughter driving me insane with incessant tantrums, and all the other glories that come with teenagehood.  I wouldn't want to repeat any of those.  I would miss the Interweb too.

So maybe I'm just better off forgetting about the whole business?  Chalk it up to an unfortunate lapse in the path through life?  Remember to have it next time when I am reincarnated into my next life?

I'm storing up quite a few things to do in my next life.

I'm quite looking forward to it

 

Something must be done

I hate these modern words and expressions they keep coming up with.

You know the kind of thing – "staycation" or "glamping" or the latest to be found in this area, "no fry zone".

Yes, our county council wants to ban all fast food outlets within 400 metres of a school.  There are so many things wrong with this that I really don't know where to begin.

For a start, who are these cunts who are calling for the ban?  Are their kids all overweight, in which case it's their own fucking fault?  Or are they concerned about other people's kids, in which case it is none of their fucking business.  Are the parents of Ireland so fucking incapable of rearing their little brats that they have to appeal to the local council to do their parenting for them?  This "No Fry Zone for Kids" group are just another of these damned "something must be done" groups that seem to be crawling out from under stones across the country.  Something should be done about them, preferably something involving barbed wire and hot coals.

There is another little problem that seems to have escaped their attention.  They may live in big towns but what about the villages?  The national school here is virtually bang in the middle of the village, so to protect the precious little snot gobblers, our village cannot serve chips [fuck off with your “fries”, America!] or fast food anywhere?

I have no great love for fast food outlets, and in fact shun them like the plague, but that is beside the point.  The point is that these precious little snowflakes want to deny the very existence of a fast food outlet in my village.  If one did want to open up here then my only concerns would be whether they blended in with the local architecture and what they intended to do about all the rubbish that seems to accumulate around them.  If the local parents didn't want their little rug rats frequenting the place then that up to the local parents, and not the fucking council and definitely not up to a group of feeble minded, Nanny loving parents in a town miles away from here.

I really am getting very tired of these groups that want others to do their damned parenting for them.  A kid gets knocked down in the road and immediately a group wants stupidly unrealistic speed limits everywhere.  A kid drowns and a group immediately wants all lakes filled in and rivers fenced off.  Now there is a mythical "obesity epidemic" and all fast food outlets are to be shunned.  Where the fuck is it all going to end?

The solution to all these so called problems is really very simple.

If you are incapable of bringing up kids properly then you shouldn't have the little bleeders in the first place.

Don't try and make them my problem.