A Night out at the Movies

Bill writes: On Wednesday we went out to the movies. Across the Thames, next to City Hall, they have a wonderful amphitheater called "The Scoop" where they show free movies outdoors at night during the summer. The movies have a british theme, as is appropriate to the location. In the photo, you can see the audience in The Scoop. From left to right is Tower Bridge, City Hall (the round glass building), and the screen.



For my friend Laura--here's the movie we saw:



So, Laura, can you guess which Bond film this is?

Irony

Even bureaucrats have a sense of irony:

A word on flying United

Bill writes: During the medieval period, pilgrims journeyed their many wearying miles flagellating themselves in penance for sins real or imagined. To sustain themselves on their awful journey, they fed simply on such meager foods as they could forage. Today, this is called flying economy.

My own period of self-flagellation began with booking my ticket for our flight from London to California and back...

Me: I'd like to upgrade from economy.

Her: We don't like to use the term "economy." However, we could upgrade you from standard Double-Amputee Class to our slightly roomier Toulouse-Lautrec section for $100, or perhaps you'd prefer the plush Sunrise at Campobello service for $7000.

Me: Could I use my miles?

Her: Of course. Although certain restrictions apply.

Me: Such as?

Her: Blackout periods extend May through March, weekends, workdays, evenings, and travel to or from the Americas (North and South), as well as trips that overfly any land mass.

Me: OK, well I have 60,000 miles that I've earned by flying United.

Her: Did you fly them yourself?

Me: Sorry?

Her: These miles are only good if you personally piloted the craft. If someone else piloted the plane you were on, you can hardly expect to accrue miles for work performed by someone else.

To make a long story short, I settled for the Tolouse option, also called "Economy Plus" (the "Plus" referring to the extra $100 United made off me). The last time I had this kind of seating, I got the extra legroom, but lost the extra seat width, because--suprise--the armrest was fixed in place. However, I was smarter by now, and asked if I could raise the armrest to make the seating between Aline and me for comfortable. "Yes," the operator kindly assured me, I could definitely raise the armrest.

(By the way, Virgin Airlines has their own version of improved seating. When I flew them last month, I tried to get emergency exit row seating, as that has extra leg room. But according to the brochure the helpful Virgin woman (sorry, I know how that sounds, but it really does refer to the corporation she works for) handed me, the airline charges $85 for the "extended legroom" and increased odds of survival should you crash that emergency exit seating offers.)

So what did this extra $100 per ticket on United buy me? It's not that the legroom is greater, it's that they didn't shrink the legroom like they did on the rest of the economy class. OK, score one for United. Well, I thought to myself, at least I can raise the armrest so Aline and I can share the space. But as I pulled it up, the armrest stuck at a 45-degree angle, exactly parallel with my ribs as I reclined in the seat. The effect was to wedge the armrest between my ribs in much the same manner as a surgical ribspreader does to provide access to one's internals in open-heart surgery.

Here is a photo of the armrest at it's furthest retracted position:


At first I thought this must be a mistake, so I flagged down a flight attendant. "Excuse me," I said. "The armrest only goes back half way. Am I doing something wrong or is it broken?" (Naively thinking these were the two possibilities.)" "No," she responded. "That's the way they work. It's unfortunate, but they were designed that way." "Do a lot of in-flight open-heart surgery, do you?" I thought. But instead I asked only, "In that case, could you bring me a pointed stick for my other side, to sort of even things out?"

London Travel Cards, the earth's magnetic field, and british actors

Bill writes: The London 7-Day Travel Card is a nifty little card for traveling on the Underground. It's got a magnetic strip on the back and you pop it in one end of an entrance or exit gate, and it pops back out the other, and opens the gate for you to get you through the station. The problem is, the magnetic strip on the back of the card is so sensitive, that everything knocks it out of whack. The longest I've been able to use my 7-Day Travel Card is 3 days, the shortest is 9 minutes.

According to the ticket clerks I've asked about this, putting the travel card in my shirt pocket next to my cell phone scrambles the magnetic strip. So does putting it in my wallet, because of the credit cards and their magnetic strips. Even putting my wallet in one pocket and the card by itself in another doesn't work. In fact, pulling it out of it's plastic card holder creates a mild electromagnetic current that also effectively erases the card. Perhaps the earth's magnetic field is sufficient to render the card ineffective if I don't hold the card aligned with the north pole.

So the only way to use the London 7-Day Travel Card as far as I can see is to hire an out-of-work London actor (there are plenty of them around, fortunately) dressed entirely in natural fibers and have them follow me about during the day, holding the card at arm's length and pointed north until I need it. That would explain all the people I see loitering around the entrance to the Underground wearing jeans and tee shirts with their hands out--they're auditioning to be hired as Travel Card holders.

BBC weather bureau

Bill writes: This is an email I just sent the BBC weather bureau in London:

Hi,

Today is Friday afternoon, June 24. According to your continuously updated weather website, it is currently sunny and 30 degrees celsius (86 Fahrenheit) in London. However, a glance outside shows the dense cloud cover, thunder, lightning and rain, as well as the cool winds that have been blowing all afternoon. If you could kindly tell me the address of your main meteorologist, I will gladly have a window sent over so that he or she can occasionally stick his or her head outside to see what the weather is actually like. I'm sure it would be a service appreciated by all Londoners.

Sincerely,

Bill Baeck

For my librarian friends

Aline writes: As you know, Bill and I successfully joined the local public library. Which is a very good thing since with the dollar the way it is (I know, I know, I sound like a broken record) a paperback costs about 20 dollars. Anyway, our local branch is only about 2 blocks from our house, and is about as big as our flat. Well, maybe slightly bigger. And I wanted to tell all my librarian friends that you should come work here in England if you want job security. Why you ask? The library seems designed to make sure that a librarian is involved in everything. I mean Everything.

Examples include

You can’t return library materials after hours, no drop-off box here! No, you need to go into the library when they are open, wait in line, hand the materials to the librarian, and wait until they check them in. I miss that Sunnyvale library drop box and conveyor belt!

They do offer online renewals, but the librarian needs to set-up your account and password. In person. So you need to go to the library, wait in line, have the librarian set it up, then go home and use your computer to renew. Hmmm…

They also run all these special deals, so that the librarians have to keep track if it’s “Tricky Tuesday” when you can get 1 dvd at a discount if you rent 2, and if it’s the “wacky weekend” you can get 3 for 2 dvds. Unless it’s a new release. It’s all very complicated, and I know it must take a graduate degree to be able to keep track of it!

Most of the branch libraries don’t have reference desks, I’m thinking because they are obviously kept too busy trying to keep the library materials moving smoothly! So maybe it’s not the type of librarian you want to be anyway. Too bad…

The Play’s the Thing...

Aline writes: We’ve seen a few good plays recently. The first was “The Home Place” with Tom Courtenay. He made such a big impression on me when I saw the film “The Dresser” so long ago, so I was thrilled at the opportunity to see him live. And he didn’t disappoint! “The Home Place” is by Brian Friel, set in 1878, and is ostensibly about Home Rule in Ireland, complete with a well-meaning English landlord whose world is turned upside down when his English cousin arrives to conduct an anthropometric project involving measuring the heads of local people in order to identify racial characteristics. Lots of foreshadowing Hitler and his classifying of “inferior” races.

We also saw “As You Like It” last night. It was set in the 1940’s and had wonderful music with live accordion, cello, flute, and singing in a great 1940’s French style. The production was a bit uneven (it is in previews, so some muffed lines, etc.) but very enjoyable. Except for that weird Buddhist Hymen (the god of marriage) at the end – pretty bizarre! I hoped they paid that actor A LOT to apear in those robes!

But, one of my favorite things about English plays is the ice cream at the intermission, where the girls and boys with cigarette-type trays come through the theatre so you can buy ice cream cups. Somehow it is very English! And delicious of course!

My Mouth is Watering…

Aline writes: We went to the Victoria and Albert to see the International Arts and Crafts Exhibit. The whole impetus behind the arts and crafts movement speaks so much to me – the dehumanization due to the introduction of industrialization bears a frightening parallel to the dehumanization in our time due to technology.

But philosophy aside, it is not only a noble concept, but it actually made my mouth water the objects are all so beautiful! The brilliant thing was that the exhibit was divided into countries: England, America, Germany, Austria, Sweden, Japan. It had all kinds of objects, such as stained glass, religious objects, paintings, furniture, books, textiles, clothing, housewares, etc. To see how the arts and crafts manifested itself in different countries at different times was really fascinating. For example, seeing the American exhibit after the English one made me realize how much heavier and bulky the American objects are in comparison. And I didn’t realize how much work the arts and crafts artists did for the church, such as altarpieces and goblets. And how late the arts and crafts movement hit Japan (in the 1920’s).

Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed, so I can’t share the beauty. But check out the link above to see some of the beauty for yourself! Yum Yum. The game my friends and I always play of “what one object would you want to take home” was completely impossible for this exhibit! I would take it ALL home!!!

New European Ice Age Approaches

Bill writes: Memo to the United Kingdom: It's the new millenium. Time to market a frost-free fridge.

When I was a little kid in the 60's, my mother used to have to de-ice our Fridgedaire every few months. That's because we were too cheap to buy a frost-free refrigerator. However, even the $60 Costco fridges you find in any college dorm room are frostless these days. But folks are more rugged here in the UK, and want none of that foppish, new-fangled gimcrackery. No, they like their frost, and plenty of it. So it's only natural that they have developed the frost-full fridge to a high technical state in Britain.

You doubt? On Monday I chipped out all of the ice from the freezer half of the fridge. The freezer portion is the bottom half of the fridge, and is apparently modeled after the lower levels described in Dante's Inferno. One expects that if you open the lowest bin, Satan will be found embedded upside down between the frozen crumpets and Tesco pizza.

So, to return. On Monday, Day 1, we start with a freezer that has no superfluous ice. It's nearly spotless as you can see.


Within 24 hours, you can see it's a tad frosty in there:


On Wednesday, Day 3, there are the definite beginnings of icicleage forming:


By Thursday, it is difficult to open the bottom drawer, while the two upper drawers can now only be opened via ice axe.


Friday shows that any attempt to take out my loaf of Hovis wholemeal bread for breakfast toast results in moderate frostbite and a trip to the hospital.


Saturday, there are definite signs of woolly oxen tracks along the upper escarpment:


Sunday is a day of rest. We left the door open too long, and now the flat is so cold. Only want to sleep. So very, very tired:


Monday. It has been a week now, and all molecular motion has ceased in the fridge. It's become difficult to breathe as I work to defrost the freezer, as oxygen forms a metal at this temperature. We give ourselves Inuit names. The cat's living on seal blubber:


The icons drawn beneath signify some English equivalent of cave paintings. The one on the far right shows the woolly oxen described earlier:


After chipping all of the snow out of our fridge, I decided against using the residue to build an igloo addition to the flat. Instead, I put together a snow memorial in the sink:


What I keep thinking is, "It's June. What will it be like six months from now, in winter?"

Bargain Hunting in London (Anything's Possible)

Bill writes: Well, just to show it's possible to bargain hunt in London, here's a picture of our haul from the "Dollar Anything" store here, called "Poundland."


This bag full of goodies cost 5 pounds, which is just under $10 american. That includes a ceramic creamer and sugar bowl, baking sheet, a thermos, a baking dish, and two VHS tapes. Once you deduct the $1700 we spent on airfare to get over here, it's probably not such a great deal, however. Still, you have to look on the bright side, it was better than being at work.

Trip to Greenwich

Bill writes: At Greenwich we went over to the Old Naval College:


Where we toured the chapel and the painted hall. We had a private tour in the painted hall, and I have to say, I always love the tour guides in Britain. I don't think I've ever met one who wasn't knowledgeable, friendly, and helpful. This one was no exception. Since no one else was around he not only showed us the obvious sites, such as the magnificent ceiling:




He also told us the story of what happened when they pickled Nelson in a vat of brandy for the trip back from Trafalgar. Yech.

By the way, the british don't know how to handle dry weather. They have no coping skills for watering the lawn for instance. The Naval College has a a few acres of lawn. The arrow shows the one sprinkler that's supposed to water this entire area, roughly one square yard at a time. I guess they just keep moving it from spot to spot for the next year, until they've watered the entire lawn.


Here's a picture of Aline on the way back. This shows what she looks like when she's totally blissed out after a day of art, cream tea, and being on the water on a sunny day while listening to John Lee Hooker singing "I Cover the Waterfront":

We end our trip with an obligatory picture of Big Ben: