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All posts for the month March, 2016

Obfuscation

Published 17/03/2016 by davidgward

“Minister, in your statement to Parliament yesterday you advised the House that you intend to create a new ‘Super Department’ combining an NHS service specifically for the Over-70’s with the existing Department of Energy and Climate Change. What is the thinking behind this?”

“Well, Sally, thank you for letting me come onto your programme to explain the thinking behind this merger. As you know, there has been a lot of misguided information about this and I’m here, this evening to clear up any misunderstandings and I hope that you will see the benefits of what we are proposing. For the Over-70’s, with their highly specific set of medical conditions, they will know that we will take care of these needs specifically, and at the same time they will feel satisfaction that they continue to contribute to such major concerns for their children and grandchildren, and sometimes even their great-grandchildren over issues like Global Warming and escalating energy costs. I hope that this has helped to clear up any worries that have been expressed?”

“Not really minister, you see I’m still not clear where the link is.”

“So, Sally, let me put some meat on the bones for you. Let me give you some numbers. Did you know that, on average a cow will release between 70 to 120kg of Methane per year…?”

“Sorry, Minister, I can’t see the connection?”

“Well, as you know, Methane is a greenhouse gas, just like Carbon Dioxide but the difference is that Methane is 23 times more powerful than CO2 in terms as the negative effect on climate.”

“Still not following.”

“So, in the UK we have around 1.895 million cattle – that’s an enormous amount of methane, Sally.”

“Indeed, but this merger of Departments, Minister, I’m still no clearer.”

“So, Sally, the census shows us that we have in the UK in the order of 11.4 million people approaching 70. This element of the population call for more and more resources from the NHS. Hip and knee replacement to give you one example. Then there is the number of reading glasses and hearing aids demanded by this population. And most of these people are only working part-time, so their contribution to our economy is on a downward trajectory whilst their gas emissions, in the form of flatulence, is rocketing skyward.”

“Is there a link with the cattle somewhere here?”

“Clearly, 11.4 million people is a greater number than 1.895 million cattle. The conclusion is undeniable. Greenhouse gasses, emitted by our Over-70 population is an enormous contributor to Global Warming.”

“So, your new Over-70’s NHS Department would be seeking a cure for flatulence? Is that what you are suggesting?”

“In an ideal world, Sally, and with time on our side, that would be a perfect, if incomplete solution. Sadly, we do not live in an ideal world and you know as well as I do, Sally, that those grandchildren and sometimes even the great-grandchildren will not wait for ever. They will not wait for their turn to smell the roses, whilst their grandparents are farting all over the country.”

“Surely, you’re not suggesting that you harness their gasses for energy in some way?”

“Not exactly, Sally, but what we have is an opportunity to take a series of negative outcomes and convert them into a series of positive benefits for mankind. What we are working on here is cutting edge – and I use those words advisedly!”

“Minister, you promised clarity but so far I am in more of a fog than at the start of this interview!”

“Sally, let me paint a picture for you and all will become clear. Sally, you are now over 70. You have the glasses, the hearing aid and, on average, three prosthetic joints and you’re trumping to kingdom come. The Government have offered a prosthetic equivalent to an Organ Donor Scheme. Let’s face it, you are hardly using that new knee joint anyway so, for a consideration, you can return it for recycling. And, let’s be fair about this, money is not much use to you either in your parlous state. So here’s what we are offering. We will, at no cost to you, remove all of your ‘enhancements’ and recycle them.”

“But, without a knee joint, or a hip joint, I can’t walk or move! Doesn’t that make me a bigger drain on society?”

“Sally, this is where the other department in the merger comes into its own. You are quite correct when you suggest that your quality of life will be non-existent, so, in return for your donations we will arrange, at no cost to you, for you to be cremated. And here is where the national benefit really starts to pay in spades, because we will be linking up all crematoria to the National Grid and as you are vaporised so you are adding energy to the national store.

Looking at it in the round, this scheme takes expensive Over-70’s out of the NHS, leaving more resources to people who are working and contributing. It recycles perfectly good but underutilised NHS prosthetics. It cuts down gas emission contributing to global warming and finally provides cheap pyre fuel to our factories and houses.”

 

Make your today as great a yesterday as it can be!

Published 14/03/2016 by davidgward

 

It is the Dalai Lama who tells us “There are only two days that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and the other is called Tomorrow. Today is the right day to Love, Believe, Do and mostly Live.”

The Tibetan Buddhist monk beseeches us not to dwell on what happened in the past and to stop worrying about the future. Instead we should learn the lessons from yesterday and utilise this experience today to work towards our life plan for tomorrow.

There is a temptation to believe that he wants us to make today perfect, and to strain every sinew to make it so. This can create two diametrically opposite responses.

The first response is to feel pressure to achieve perfection in everything that we do. The result is that we spend our day with our heads down, checking and rechecking everything we do. Not only do we fail to ‘smell the coffee’ we don’t even know what ‘an Austrian goat milk double, half caf – half decaf, soy milk cappuccino extra hot with a dash of Madagascar cinnamon and half tablespoon of caramel latte frappe mocha’ costs in Starbucks. We are so big on building for our spectacular tomorrow that we do not allow ourselves to enjoy today. And yet it is the memories of our today that become our warm recollections of all our yesterdays.

The second response is to feel that perfection is not achievable and therefore there is no point in making any effort. Sometimes we become so overwhelmed by the need to be ‘the best you can be’ that we resolve that if we do nothing no-one can question the quality of what we have produced. A contagion of procrastination creates an attitude that ‘no grade’ is preferable to ‘low grade’.

It is my belief that what the Dalai Lama was aiming at with his comment is that, as today is the only day that you can influence you should make the most of it; do the best you can in all aspects of your life. Your best is enough; perfection is a bonus.

During the London Olympics in 2012 I had the privilege of being a Gamesmaker at Lords Cricket Ground, the site of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Now, I have no claim to be a toxophilite, an expert in archery, but let me explain how the competition was organised on the hallowed outfield of Lords. Temporary stands were built on either side of the 70 metre track with the targets set facing the Pavilion with its historic Long Room being the best seat in the house. This setup created something of a wind tunnel for the competitors and so two flagpoles behind the targets were vital for the competitors to understand wind speed and direction when taking their six arrows, which they have to shoot off in four minutes. Two large clocks, a couple of yards in front of the shooters, count down this vital four minute limit.

The ‘David Beckham’ (or, in this case, the ‘Stevie Wonder’) of world archery is Im Dong-Hyun of South Korea who is registered as blind. Standard vision is 20/20 but for Im Dong-Hyun it is 20/100 and 20/200 – meaning he needs to be 10 to 20 times closer to the target than normally-sighted individuals. Im is an idol in Asia and archery royalty throughout the world.

The 2012 London Olympic Games was expected to be further evidence of his supremacy and on 27 July, in the team event, Im was at his imperious best and smashed the world record, notching up a score of 699 out of a possible 720. His efforts won his country the Bronze Medal.

Im confirms that all he can do is to try to distinguish between the different colours on the target. Indeed he has told us “For, me seeing the target and not seeing the target does not make a difference.”

Three days later, the world of archery was watching the expected progression of Im Dong-Hyun into the final of the Individual event. He eased his way effortlessly through the first two elimination rounds without ever quite reaching the levels of perfection he had achieved in the team event.

The personal pressure mounted as his opponent, Rick Van Der Ven of the Netherlands, raced into an early lead. Im took his place 70 metres away from the target, seeking out the yellow inner ring, through opaque vision. The clock started to tick down the four minutes as Im watched the fluttering of flags and as they fell limp he loosed first one arrow, then another and then a third. The shots were in the inner ring. He was on a roll. The fourth arrow was all-important and, again, he watched the flags to assess the winds direction and strength. He waited for all of the elements to be in his favour. The tension in the crowd mounted as they appreciated the import of this fourth arrow. They were willing Im to achieve his brilliant best, to prove the power of the human spirit to overcome any disadvantage and be perfect.

The flags continued to flutter forcefully east to west, dipped slightly before, again, standing erect from the flagpoles that held them.

Im continued to wait, continued to hold his fire, calmly determined to find that yellow bullseye yet again. The massive, knowledgeable audience took a deep breath and waited with him. A bird screeched in the distance, sending a minor tremor through the tense scene.

They waited still.

The strident claxon screech of the timer shook the attendant masses to their core. This claxon sound was, in the world of archery, the shattering peal of the seismometer predicting an earthquake registering a magnitude 7 on the Richter scale.

Im had defaulted and was out of the competition. The damage was irreparable. Im, imperious days before, would not be the Gold Medal winner and his today would not be creating a memorable yesterday for Im Dong-Hyun.

The Dalai Lama is right when he tells us that today is the only day that we can influence but we must remember that to do our best today is preferable to seeking perfection and achieving nothing.

 

Short and curly grey hair? It’s all in the genes, apparently!

Published 04/03/2016 by davidgward

So, scientists have now identified the gene that defines whether we are going to have grey hair, curly hair or, indeed, no hair at all.

As a follicly challenged male, I could really have done with this information much earlier in my life so that I could make plans.

I remember a conversation I had with my mother at a time when, to quote Harry Hill, I realised that every day it was taking longer to wash my face as my hairline receded.

“You don’t mind losing your hair, do you love?” Mum asked.

“Well mother, I would have preferred to have had a choice!” I observed.

My family, who are generally a fair haired, hirsute group, were not particularly sympathetic. My sister described my situation as a case of ‘over production, but poor distribution’ whilst my big brother, who, even in his seventies, sports a full head of curly, blond(ish) hair, questioned whether my hair loss was the result of a hefty blow to the head from a monkey wrench when I was around four years old. This explanation is probably more acceptable than the proposition that I am actually adopted given the fact that I am also shorter and stockier than any of my siblings.

The warning signs came relatively early in my life. Initially, at the age of around eighteen, my hairdresser (let me be frank, this guy was a barber in Brixton market) announced that he had spotted a grey streak at my temple.

“Makes you look distinguished, man!” he encouraged.

As was normal in the mid-sixties, I compensated for my thinning hair by growing it to shoulder length, adopting a windswept and mysterious image, the sort of image that evoked such questions as “Have you combed your hair today?” and “Why do you look so scruffy?”

With the inevitability of Canute trying to resist the tide I stood helpless in front of my bathroom mirror as I watched my hair recede and turn grey at around the same pace. Life prepares one for the loss of hair but the first sight of a greying pubic hair is traumatic to say the least. It brings into question whether I am simultaneously losing my vigour as a man at the same time. The impact can be quite sobering for a time. Is hair linked to strength as in the fable of Samson? Is there an, as yet undefined, correlation between grey hair and lack of libido?

As these questions and many others roll through my consciousness, nature plays its final ace, to further deplete my waning self-confidence. Suddenly I appear to have a spurt of hair growth. At first base, this might seem grounds for relief and celebration but this cannot be further from the actual reaction because this hair seems to be like fuse wire and growing in all the wrong places.

Initially I noticed my eyebrows forming a wire wool configuration on my now-naked forehead, sending out antennae in all directions as if seeking communication from some extra-terrestrial lifeform.

Very soon my nostrils were following suit, as were my ears. Eventually hair was sprouting from the top of my nose which, when caught in the summer sun would serve as a major distraction when driving as well as creating a minor tic as I crossed my eyes and twitched my nose in order to locate specifically the offending follicle.

Finally, as if to pour Just for Men onto my already vulnerable state, I detected the odd jet black hair standing out like a raven in the most inappropriate orifice. A dark hair amongst the grey in an ear seems to be saying “This is what you could have been if only you had not had a genetic malfunction!”

So, although it may be too late for me, I am delighted that, in the future, men will be prepared for the transformation that may befall them in later life. And, as I sit in my Home for The Bewildered plaiting my eyebrows, I trust that someone more fortunate than I will have enough respect for me to remove the raven developing on the bridge of my nose.