Guest Blogging - My Post

Link: http://typecast2000.blogspot.com/2010/07/silence-isnt-golden-its-wet.html

I was recently a guest blogger on a blog called Typecast. (What a brilliant name for a blog!) The topic was "parenting", so I decided to share my one and only parenting tip with the world, along with the true story behind it.

Here is my original blog in it's entirety. If you want to see it in situ, please click here to visit Typecast - here!





Silence isn't golden, it's wet

I have been a parent for 14 years. I rarely give advice out to other parents, as I believe it really is something they should learn for themselves.

However, the one thing I can guarantee is that if you have young, normally loud, chatty children, if they go noticeably quiet they are either planning evil things or DOING evil things.

I have three children. For the sake of anonymity I shall call them Child1, Child2 and Child2.1

Child1 is the oldest. Child2 is the middle child and Child2.1 (who came along much sooner than we planned for, hence the number) is the youngest. At the time of the following story they were 6, 3 and 2 respectively.

Years ago, Child1 used to be very travel sick. If we were in the car for more than 15 minutes, he'd explode like Niagra Falls. If he was on a ride at a fair that went on for more than 3 minutes you could see him turn green. If we took him onto a bus, we couldn't travel for more than 10 minutes before he'd blow like a geyser, which does kind-of limit where you can go to if you don't have a car.

He's always been travel sick since birth but, oddly, Child2 and Child2.1 have never been travel sick. They could travel to and from town on buses, or go on rides at the fair and remain unaffected by motion.

So when we decided to go to Ikea we knew that, because it was 40 minutes away, we'd have to give Child1 a travel sickness tablet to prevent the otherwise inevitable vomiting. The instruction in the box said the tablet would start working immediately and last for up to 6 hours. This was ideal. We made him eat one, waited 15 minutes as a precaution, and set off on our 40 minute journey.

35 minutes into our 40 minute Ikea journey and he was still fine! He was chatting away, not spewing, and he showed no signs being ill. Being the oldest, he sat in the middle seat with a lap belt, so occasionally I checked my mirror to look at him, to try to gauge his wellness. He was quite perky. This was a GREAT day!

As we approached the Ikea car park, I slowed down, pulled in and drove around for a bit to try to find a space. While I was searching for a space it occured to me that, although Child1 was chatty, the other two were noticeably quiet. I assumed they'd nodded off. "Everyone ok back there?" I asked.

Suddenly, Child1 let out an horrific noise, like a part-scream, part-alien-birth noise. My first thought was "OH GOD, HE'S SICKED!!!" I slammed on the brakes and turned around expecting to see Child1 vomiting yet again, covered in his own sick.

But he hadn't been sick. What I witnessed was something far worse.

Now, I know what you're thinking. What IS worse than being covered in your own sick?

A: Being covered in your brother and sisters sick.

As I turned around, Child2 and Child2.1 had both turned inwards to face him and were doing Exorcist impressions, and all Child1 could do was sit there and try to stop two independent streams of vomit with his bare hands. It was like watching synchronised gargoyles, both turning inward and projectile sicking on cue.

Child1 just looked at me, his arms, hands, lap ALL completely covered, and did a massive frown. I think that at that moment in time, if he could have been sick he would have. But, ironically, he was the only one who physically couldn't.

So if your children EVER go quiet, bad things are afoot.

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Haribo, you disappoint me.

Fantasy?

Dear Haribo.

I recently purchased a bag of Fantasy Mix sweets.

The reason I opted for Fantasy Mix, as opposed to your other wonderful selections, was simply this; I wanted fantasy. I wasn’t in the mood for your otherwise excellent Tangfastics, and since our abysmal performance in the World Cup football match, where we didn’t kick enough goals or something, neither was I in the mood for Football mix. Starmix is also a particular favourite, and I also love finishing off a full packet of Strawbs. But on this occasion I wanted Fantasy.

To me, fantasy is a whole world of things you can only imagine. Mythical creatures that don’t actually exist. Unexplainable things like aliens and dinosaurs. So as I opened the Fantasy Mix bag, optimistically I was hoping for unicorns, wizards, wands and other things of fantasy.

The first thing I pulled out was a yellow lion. Disheartened at my initial pluck from the bag, and at the fact that lions do actually exist, “maybe the fantasy will start soon,” I said.

Next, I pulled out a kangaroo. Again, not a particularly fantastical animal. In fact, an animal I have seen in real life a few times on visits in my youth to various zoos.

“Third time lucky!” I told myself, as I plunged in and whipped out two sweets at once; an edible childs dummy and a fish, both of which I have seen far too many of in real life in my time.

Very disappointing, people of Haribo.

NONE of the items in the Fantasy Mix were things of fantasy, in that they all exist in real life. In fact the closest things to fantastical that I found was a mole apparently wearing red trousers, pictured below.

Red Pants! On a BEAR of all things! Not MY idea of fanasy...

Imaginary, yes, but "fantasy" is pushing it.

This was the ONLY item with even a hint of fantasy. If I’m being honest, if you fantasise about animals in trousers then, quite frankly, that is a little disturbing.

I think calling it “Fantasy Mix” is wrong. If anything, it you should rename it to “Fantasy Mix – Ironic Remix ™”

Have you ever thought of branching out with other equally disappointing and lackluster attempts? Why not create a "Sports Mix" range that contains absolutely no sport items? Or add "Made With Real Fruit" to packets of sawdust?

Why IS it called Fantasy Mix? Do the people that make your sweets seriously get out so little that things that are everyday occurances for the likes of you and me really are the things they dream about? Have they never enjoyed looking at lion or a real fish? Were they deprived so much that they never had a dummy when they were young?

Please let me know, as the more I think about people not appreciating normal life, the more concerned I get about people missing out on these things.

And if you could let me know if you ever put fantasy items into your Fantasy Mix, that would be ace.

Yours,

Craig Anderson.




Quick F.A.Q. to answer your emails en mass...

Yes, I have complained officially to Haribo UK.

No, no reply as of yet.

Yes, the mole, possibly actually a badger, is safe. He lives on my keyboard now. Sometimes I put his nose over my capslock light, so his nose glows green.

It was originally a lot longer, but I chose to remove a couple of paragraphs after I shocked myself with how perverse the "animals in trousers" description ended up being.

honk!

Childhood Memories, Website Stuff, BadlySpelled Things 1 feedback » • PermalinkPermalink

Subliminal Messages

When I was 14 and studying GCSEs, my Dad tried to get me to study more by planting a subliminal message in my head. He did this by coming into my room while I was asleep and repeating the word "study" a few times, in the hope that it would register in my subconscious and be something I then wanted to do.

He did it quite early in the morning, as he used to leave for work as I was getting up, so it was probably at about 6 to 7am.

I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't awake either. I was at that mid-conscious stage where you're aware of things but they don't necessarily make sense.

I remember my door opening, and his silhouette as he crept in, and I remember wondering what he was doing as I squinted, trying to give the impression I wasn't awake. Was he going to put clothes in my wardrobe? Or leave me some pocket money? Or wake me up? I ran through loads of options quite optimistically.

So when he stood next to my bed and said what sounded like "Nunny," initially I was a little confused.

He waited there a few moments, then again said what sounded like "Nunny."

Then, after a few moments, he headed out and closed my door.

I don't mind saying that at this point, I was baffled. At the time I didn't understand about subliminal advertising, so I didn't know what he was doing or what effect he was trying to make me achieve.

When I was young I did have to have my ears syringed to clear the wax, so maybe my hearing was bad at this time. Who knows what effect it would have had if I had been asleep with good hearing? Maybe I'd have been influenced heavily by it?

So for all you who have asked over the years, that's the reason I became a Nun.

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10 things I cannot do - part 1

10 things I can't do. (things 1 to 5)

This may surprise you all, but… I'm not infallible.

There are things, I don't mind admitting, that I can't do. I WANT to be able to do them, but I can't. I fail at them.

Obviously there are loads of things I can't do by default, like menstruate. But I don't WANT to do that and I'm incapable of doing that. It's not that I've tried to do it and am unable to, I physically won't be able to do that.

The things I am about to list are things that I have tried to do, often repeatedly, but no matter how hard I try I cannot do them.


Juggle without walking forward.

I can juggle to a degree. I can't juggle anything except three balls, but I can keep them in the air a good while. But whatever position I start off in, I ALWAYS end up moving forward. It starts with a slight shuffle forward as I accidentally lean when I throw, so I have to move forward to catch what will soon be coming down. Then I end up walking forward as my own forward motion and the leaning combine and I have to move forward slightly faster. After about 10 second of juggling I am at a fast walking pace and still accelerating.

Usually at this point I realise that I am running out of room and have to drop everything, but hypothetically if I kept juggling AND going forward with the lean-and-throw technique, within 3 minutes I would be throwing the balls horizontally and running forward at the speed of sound.


Open my eyes under water.

I really cannot do this. The number of times I have plunged my face into water and tried to open my eyes is ridiculous. I know what I have to do, and I engage my eyelid muscles, but they just won't open. It's as though the seal is stuck and only contact with oxygen will release it.


Believe in ANYTHING paranormal.

Ghosts, god, astrology, palm readers, Ouija boards, tarot….

I used to say I don't believe in these things, but I changed my phrasing slightly a few years ago. When I used to say “I don't believe in god” it didn't quite cover how thoroughly I felt. “I believe there is no god” is more precise. Saying you don't believe sounds more like you're saying there is one but you chose not to follow it, which I found a bit wishy-washy, and not in a panto way.

On the subject of ghosts and hauntings, I have no doubt that if I were to spend a night with the team on Most Haunted I'd be petrified. But that wouldn't be because I believed the things that were happening, it would be because I would be surrounded by people who were all experiencing mass hysteria and screaming in terror is the sort of thing you join in with.

When you scream on a bus everyone looks at you, but do the same thing in a plane and everyone joins in.

If there is ANY possible reason other than “it's paranormal” then I have to go with the “other reason”. At present nothing has happened that I don't think can be explained a different way. Knocking can be caused by pipes, heating, outside influences, other people consciously or inadvertently, rats, birds….. or ghosts? I have to go with the explanations that have been scientifically proven to exist, like vermin and humans, before spirits.

Tarot, palm reading and astrology are all generic statements, not “predictions.” They're the sort of thing that people make fit their own situation. “You're the sort of creative person who feels they have great potential, but you feel others don't notice it.”

I'd love to believe these things were real, but I can't. And don't.


Turn on taps without tapping them first.

Years ago I went through a bout of getting static electric shocks of everything. Supermarket trolleys, prams, door handles, the sink…. and taps.

I used to dread touching the taps on my sink at home, as I knew I'd get a shock off them. The only way I could get it not to hurt was to bring my hand down firmly on top of the tap, in effect slapping it. I was probably still getting a shock, but the pain cause by hitting it cancelled out the electric bolt pain.

And I've been wary of taps ever since.


Make that “beckoning-a-dog” clicky noise with my tongue.

REALLY cannot do this. I can't even describe the noise accurately in text form on here, but it’s the noise that your Dad used to do when you were young, when trying to befriend a random dog on the street, like a “Ki Ki” noise with your mouth.

When I do it, I sound like a dental patient coming round from a full-mouth anesthetic, dribbly spit an’ all.


Part 2 coming soon.....

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Meeting Matthew Smith

Since being about 8, I've always wanted to meet Matthew Smith. It's like something I've always wanted to do. Not just any Matthew Smith would do, though. It would have to be the one who wrote Manic Miner and Jet Set Willy on the ZX Spectrum.

Yes, THAT Matthew Smith.

That man is responsible for making me into the computer-obsessed guy I am today. If you add together the total hours I must have spent during my youth, playing Manic Miner and Jet Set Willy, you'd be looking at a good few months. I played his games for hour upon hour, every evening and every day during the school summer holidays... He wrote what were, in my opinion, two of the best games on earth.

Over the years, I've managed to interview a few 80s celebs, (Jim Bowen, Gaz Topp, Violet Berlin, Nigel Alderton,) but Matthew Smith is one of those people who is notoriously hard to get in touch with. He doesn't use facebook or twitter. He doesn't have a "contact me" website. In fact, he could well be one of the least easy to find people ever.

In fact, in 1988 he disappeared completely. Having written Styx, Manic Miner and JSW for the spectrum,(and Scrabble on the gameboy color) he completely vanished from the face of the earth.

He reappeared in the UK in 1995, having been deported from Holland where he had spent 7 years working as a bicycle repairman and a factory worker, completely unaware that his absence had been sure a big deal.

I read that he was scheduled to appear at the Urbis in Manchester, as part of their Videogame Nation exhibition. So not only was he making a very rare public appearance, but it was practically on my doorstep! As soon as I found this out, I bought a ticket. Well, actually, I was that excited I bought two tickets. They arrived months ahead of time, and I stored them next to my monitor so I could look at them daily.

I also decided to try to contact him through various means, to see if he would be able to donate a few minutes and take part in a brief interview for 80sNostalgia.com

I sent a message to the editor at Retro Gamer, an email to the Urbis Museum direct, and a message to a forum member on the RetroGamer website who had published photos of how the exhibition was being constructed. I also remember a couple of years ago a different RG member had asked the forum if they had any questions that they would like to put to Matt, as they were going to his house. I searched for the original topic and messaged the original poster.

The message I sent just said something along the lines of...

I'm looking to contact Matthew Smith of Manic Miner fame. I understand that you would be unwilling to give out his contact details to a complete stranger, so instead would you mind forwarding my contact details to him with a quick note asking if he would spare me a few minutes of his time to participate in an interview for 80sNostalgia.com.

My email address is *******
My phone number is *********

Thanks for your time.

I got an email back the next day from a David Crookes, saying that he was the curator of the exhibition. He had no contact details for Matthew Smith himself, but he would forward my email to Paul Drury who was the one bringing him. He also assured me that Paul was a thoroughly nice chap.

I emailed back my thanks, as I was immensely thankful!

A few days later, while I was at work, I noticed I had a missed call. I listened to my answerphone, to hear the following message...

"Hi this is Paul Drury. You've been trying to contact me using a two-pronged attack, via the Retro Gamer website and via David, about how to contact Matthew Smith. I'll be in England for the next week, after which I'm on holiday, so give us a ring back on this number or my landline which is ********* and I'll see what I can do. I won't bore you with where I am going next week.... well, ok I will bore you with it, I'm off to America to meet the guy who invented Simon! Y'know, that memory game with the four beepy colours that you press? How cool is that?!? Er, So, anyway, give me a ring when you're free. Cheers mate,"

I rang him back VERY quickly!

His advice was simple. Come to the Urbis event. At the end of the event, go up to Paul and introduce myself to him. He'll get Matthews attention, and introduce me as a good friend, and we'll all go for a drink together. While drinking, just leave a dictaphone running, and ask him whatever I want.

It was THAT simple.

A month passed, and the Urbis event loomed.

The day before the Urbis event, I got a text from Paul. "Hi Mate. Still coming to the Urbis tomorrow?" "Yep indeed!" I replied. I had written a few questions out in advance, and put them with my tickets.

On the day, I set off to Manchester, and got there at about 1pm. It didn't start until 2pm, so I had a coffee and quickly read through my questions again.

About 1:30, I set out across the road to the Urbis. I was chatting on the phone. Looking around, I couldn't believe how many nerds there seemed to be. You know, people who are quite obviously into computer games and look a bit geeky. I commented, on the phone, about how many nerds there were outside the Urbis. "They're probably looking at you and thinking the same thing" was the reply. My wife graduated ironic-comment college way before I did.

At 2pm, all the attendees were ushered into the event, and Matthew Smith took his place on a chair at the front of the stage, next to Paul.

The two hours of Matt chat absolutely shot by and at the end of the event loads of geeks, myself included, lined up to get autographs and share a few sentences.

(I actually have Matthew Smiths autograph on the covers of both my Manic Miner tape, AND on my Jet Set Willy tape. How COOL is THAT?!?)

So, I stepped to one side and introduced myself to Paul Drury. He couldn't have been more welcoming. He shook my hand, encouraged me to stay around, asked about 80sNostalgia.com, and chatted about his America trip. As David Crookes said, what a thoroughly nice chap!

Half an hour after the event had meant to have ended, and just after Matt had finished signing things, Paul introduced me to him.

"Matt, this is Craig from 80sNostalgia.com, and he'd like to buy you a drink."

"Great!" said Matt, beaming at me.

Another guy then stepped up and asked if I minded if he joined us for the drink. "Yeah, no problem" was the resounding reply, and Mike Mason from http://www.Cubed3.com was added to our group. Mike had also prepared some questions to ask Matt, so we all went to the cafe and I bought drinks for all.

So Paul, Matt, Mike and myself were all sat around a table, three of us drinking Pepsi and Matt with a beer, and I just asked random questions for 15 minutes. The questions I had prepared earlier went completely out of the window, and I just asked things that I wanted to know. They are probably not questions that other people are interested in, but to me they were very important. I didn't want to waste my time asking things that are well documented all over the internet already, I asked things that mattered to me, and I was very pleased with his answers.

(The following excerpt is from memory)
---------------------------------------------------------

Me : There are some seriously scary things in Jet Set Willy, aren't there?

MS : Errr..... Like what?

Me : Spinning razor blades?

MS : (nods) Yep.

Me : Monks with extending noses?

MS : (smiles and nods again) Yep.

Me : A massive Satan head?

MS : (giggles) ....yep...

Me : (Preparing to ask him if he was an evil child, but Matt interjects)

MS : I should have put some foxes in there too!

Me : Foxes?

MS : You wouldn't believe how many people are scared of foxes! And moths.

Me : Moths?

MS : Yeah, flappin' about. And clowns!

Group : *communal fear noise*

-----------------------------------------------------------

At the end, I asked Matt if I could take a photo of him drinking the beer I'd promised him, to prove that I had done it. " 'Ang on" he said, picking up his beer and doing his "posh drinking" pose...

(A pose he started doing even before my camera was ready. He maintained this pose for 15 full seconds in the middle of a cafe while I put my drink down, picked up my phone, navigated to photo mode, and snapped a shot.)



Matthew Smith Drinking Beer

For the full interview, please visit The Matthew Smith Interview at 80sNostalgia.com

Childhood Memories, Don't Forget, People, Things that occur to me, Website Stuff 1 feedback » • PermalinkPermalink