Wide Load

For some reason, the people in charge of the trains have reverted to using the older style carriages in the morning. This is actually a good thing in a way - the older trains have more seats, for one thing. The only problem is that the seats are roughly 3 inches (that's 7.62 cm, metric fans*) too narrow. Not such a problem if you're at the window seat, but if you're the next one along, 3 inches of your seat is already occupied by overspill from the person beside you. And if you're the unlucky sod on the end, 6 inches of your seat is already taken. Which means that you're left to perch on the end in a position so uncomfortable you'd probably be better off standing. At least the newer trains have armrests to prevent others from encroaching on your territory.

* Talking of fans, on the train home last night I saw something I don't think I've ever seen before. A guy using a fan. Not one of the battery-operated ones, one of the little paper ones that you can fold up or, uh, fan out. You know you have a weight problem when you need to use a fan in Scotland in February.

The day the music (almost) died

Over the course of the weekend, I made an interesting and unexpected discovery.

It seems that an iPod can survive being submerged in water for up to twenty seconds. I'd rather not go into the specifics of how this discovery came about - suffice to say that I had been drinking.

A Complaint

Just for a change.

I can see the point of having announcements on trains, particularly for people not familiar with the route. It would be quite handy to have someone telling you which station the train is approaching. Or if you wake up and it's dark outside, and you think 'Where the frick am I?'. Quite useful, I suppose.

But there's a limit. What you don't need is a 3000-decibel spiel informing you that you're now approaching Pigsknuckle, and a few seconds later that you have now arrived at Pigsknuckle, where you should change for routes to Bonefuck, Arsecandle and Shithole. Oh, and the station has a no-smoking policy. Oh, and mind the gap when alighting from the train.

Mind the gap? In case of what? How many people in the history of the world have ever fallen down the gap? Not many, I'd imagine. The gap is about 3cm (that's an inch and a bit, imperial measurement fans). You couldn't even fit Kate Moss through that. At least not without a lot of effort.

And now the train has left Pigsknuckle. The next stop for this train is Shutthefuckupdammit.

Hey Kirk

I used to enjoy reading this guy's blog. But it's almost a year since he updated it. Perhaps he just lost interest... who can say? Shame though. I just hope he's OK.

Uncle Ian

Last night I received the sad - but not entirely unexpected - news that my Uncle Ian had passed away. He'd been in poor health for quite a long time following a very nasty accident at home.

Ian and my Dad came from a family of five brothers - Ian was the last one remaining after Dad shuffled off the old mortal coil in 2002.

This is the most recent picture I could find of the two of them together, taken (I'm fairly sure) in July 1997. Ian is the one on the left of the picture.