All my posts: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?u=zw219551
or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' to eliminate caldwell returns (take note of the position of the minus sign) or 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser.
I am not on YouTube or social media
[ 5 minute read ]
mild humour
I just had to mess it up
Good Crikeyness! I can be a real monster of disruption. Maybe that should read, I am a monster of disruption.
It was pretty windy yesterday, and I went to the Post Office shop. All the customers who subsequently came into the shop expressed their view on the weather. We are British; it is imperative that we make such comments. I suspect that when we all one day live in an eco-dome that is climate-controlled we will cease to be British.
‘Phew! That is windy out there!’ cried one woman as she came in.
Stupid me, like a goofy March hare, returned, “Good sailing weather.” You can almost hear me following it up with the cartoon-like "Uh huh, uh huh!", and "Sailing!", as I fervently nod, manically grinning
I just can’t keep my mouth shut. I have too much nervous energy. The conversation should have been something like “Windy isn’t it?” “Yes, it blew my tree down” or something. Anything that people can relate to. Not me, though. I am different.
Another woman came in. “Uh!” She brushed her hair from her face with one hand.
‘Good kite flying weather!’ She gave me a blank look, so I continued with, “We would need rope instead of string though!” My sunny disposition isn’t really as much fun as I would like to believe. Nobody answered. They looked away.
I gave way to a woman carrying only a litre of milk because I had two transactions to make which I knew would take a few minutes. She thanked me. Big mistake.
‘Well, I thought maybe you might need your morning coffee to wake up.’ Thinking about it about a few seconds later I realised I had just inferred that she was dozy or wobbly in some way. Who knows how she might take it. "Shut up, Martin!" I silently shouted at myself. She, however, bore it quite well, and responded admirably.
‘The wind has woken me up.’
I tried to give way to another customer but she had her own plan. I suspect the shopkeeper was in on it. My transaction did take a while and he seemed embarrassed that the new technology was stymieing his efforts to be quick. He wanly smiled at me a few times.
‘New technology.’
‘I know.,’ I said, ‘It is the young folk who have to prove their worth by inventing stuff other people find awkward to use.’ I relentlessly went on to explain, "Maybe that is a bit cynical, but A.I. should be able to recognise what needs to be done, and only a monetary value should be entered." I offered.
Reality can jump up and smack us in the face. He was embarrassed for me. He wanted me out of his shop as quickly as possible. He knew that we had, had a similar exchange on technology and A.I. a couple of weeks earlier. He just wanted me to stop harassing his customers. His anguish was palpable.
However, I was using a shortened version of conversation that should only be used in exceptional circumstances. Somehow, I had egregiously conflated polite and safe greetings with actual conversation. The distinction between the two, for me, was entirely missing. That mistake was further heightened because I recognised that time for a conversation was extremely limited; a couple of minutes at best (or enduringly long for the other customers if I am in the same shop as them).
There is something in what I said about the relentless production of new devices. If a device works and does a job exceptionally well, in my mind, there should not be a replacement. However, designers would lose their jobs; “Sorry, there simply is no space for innovation these days – everything works fine. We are not hiring. In fact, we are laying people off.” STEM undergraduates would have nothing to do. Essentially, they would become history students. In my happy world, they would become kite designers, hopefully.
I used to own a 26ft ( almost 8 metres ) sailing boat, and taught myself to sail in a 17ft ( almost 5.2 metres ) sloop off the Essex coast. Almost drowned a few times. Completely irresponsible but what a rush! While mucking about trying to work out what the anchor was for, I noticed a car-sized catamaran with two men on it; one on a trapeze. It practically took off in the smallest gust. They were experienced sailors. “Gust in five, four, three, two, one.” One of the hulls lifted from the water and they shot off. My near drowning fun was nothing compared to my imagination of what they were experiencing. I was jealous. I suppose I transpose that remembered imagination onto my conversation and because I am living it in my mind I weirdly expect others to be able to see the video in my mind. That kind of inter-connectivity we do not have. Why do I think otherwise? Why would I want it? Telepathy? Do I actually believe in it? Of course, I must do. Reality slaps me around the head with a wet fish and tells me that I am seeking someone with similar experiences, a bit like being in a doctor’s waiting room and turning to another person and saying, ‘My knee hurts’ and hoping they say something like, ‘My arm hurts.’ I want to hear about someone’s agony. And then like Sybil in ‘Fawlty Towers’, I can say, “I know.... I know.... I know...”.
In truth, none of that conversation took place, but it could have. This is what really happened:
I was in the Post Office shop waiting in line behind someone buying a newspaper. A woman entered.
‘Phew! That is windy out there!’
‘It is!’ I replied. I love those two words together. You can put great emphasis on them and even draw them out. She went to find what she needed. Another woman carrying a litre of milk arrived from the back, just before I was about to be served, and I gave way to her.
‘I have a couple of transactions that might take some time. Please go ahead of me.’ She thanked me, paid for the milk, and left.
The shopkeeper tended to my needs and apologised for the delay in completing the transactions.
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry.’
When it was all done. I cried, "Woo Hoo! I can update my spreadsheet now!" The queuing customers who had been patient and only mildly interested, all simultaneously looked at the floor. I noticed a couple had raised eyebrows.
I just had to mess it up.