The Befouled Weakly News

2 September 2007

What a difference a day makes (or a week, at any rate). This time last week we were lamenting the fact that our visit to the Lake was over; this week we are already bored with the tedium of being back at work and now, on Monday, schools start back so the vacation really is well and truly over.

I did have to chuckle at an article in this week's Private Eye containing a reference to my beloved employers, Oxfordshire County Council. For those who don't know it, Private Eye is a satirical magazine which pokes fun at just about everyone. One of their features each week is a section entitled “Rotten Boroughs” which generally serves to highlight corruption and incompetence in various aspects of local government.

Now, one would imagine that Oxfordshire could never appear in the Rotten Boroughs section; in its last independent review it was awarded Five Star Status as an outstanding local authority. Those of us who work for the authority had a good chuckle about that knowing, as we do, that the Council's “achievements” are based largely on spin and perception, rather than substance but the Council's web site, the internal corporate intranet and the disclaimer affixed to every outgoing corporate e-mail proudly pronounces that Oxfordshire is an outstanding, five-star authority.

So, as I say, it was with some amusement that I read the following:

“Many of the local government documents that arrive in the Rotten Boroughs office are heavy going. But Ian J. Franks, “Performance and Change Manager – Corporate Core” at Oxfordshire County Council, with his 20 page “Corporate Core Quarterly Reporting Proposal Review” has scored a first. We cannot understand a single word of it. Mr Franks, who revels in the world of balanced scorecards and baskets of performance indicators (see extract) wins a nomination in the Blue-Sky Thinking category of this year's Rotten Boroughs Awards. Well done!”

I think I mentioned the film “Waitress” the other day as one worth catching if you get the chance. I saw it on the flight home while Ms Playchute snored peacefully across the Atlantic at 35,000 feet. Very light, quirky and fun. Well, we caught another good one last night – “Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School” with Robert Carlisle, John Goodman, Mary Steenburgen, Marisa Tomei and a handful of other well-known performers. Again, light, quirky and fun and again, Pen snored through much of it. (Perhaps this is the key to great cinema – if I watch it with Ms Playchute and she falls asleep at some point, it's bound to be a pretty good film). The Internet Movie Database describes it thus:

“Dance is a very powerful drug, if embraced judiciously; to reap its rewards, one must shoulder its challenges with intrepid countenance. Frank Keene, a grieving baker in a near catatonic state, happens on a car accident. The loquacious and insightful victim, Steve Mills, is on his way to an appointment in Pasadena with a years-ago acquaintance; he asks Frank to go in his place. It's a dance class. Frank goes, to find Steve's friend. The story moves back and forth among Steve's childhood, the scene of the accident, and the aftermath of Frank's first Lindy hop. Black eyes, group therapy, loneliness, boys being boys, roads not taken, and saying good-bye color the story.”

Of course, as well as being an entertaining film, it reminded me of my occasional experiences in being compelled to attend a similar dance and charm session at about the same time as the flashback sequences in this movie – when I was about 11 or 12. I am sure our mother can provide the missing details; I can only remember going a few times and absolutely hating it but I can still remember the box step which I learned on one of these sessions. Perhaps if I had persevered my dancing today might consist of something more than a shuffle from one foot to the other vaguely in time with the music and I might actually be able to demonstrate some charm from time to time.

Love to you all,

Greg


While carpenters were working outside the old house I had just bought, I busied myself with indoor cleaning. I had just finished washing the floor when one of the workmen asked to use the bathroom.

With dismay I looked from his muddy boots to my newly scrubbed floors. "Just a minute," I said, thinking of a quick solution. "I'll put down newspapers."

"That's all right, lady," he responded. "I'm already trained."


"Mount Sinai Hospital? Hello, Darling. I'd like to talk with the person who gives the information about the patients. But I don't want to know if the patient is better or doing like expected, or worse. I want all the information from top to bottom, from A to Z.

The voice on the other line said "Would you hold the line please, that's a very unusual request."

Then a very authoritative voice came on and said, "Are you the lady who is calling about one of the patients?"

"Yes, darling! I'd like to know the information about Sarah Finkel in Room 302."

He said "Finkel... Finkel... Let me see. Farber, Feinberg -- Finkel. Oh yes, Mrs. Finkel is doing very well. In fact, she's had two full meals, her doctor says if she continues improving as she is, he is going to send her home Tuesday at twelve o'clock."

The woman said "Thank God! That's wonderful! She's going home at twelve o'clock! I'm so happy to hear that! That's wonderful news!"

The guy on the other end says: "From your enthusiasm, I take it you must be one of the close family."

She said "What close family? I'm Sarah Finkel!! My doctor don't tell me nothing."


On the way back to Ohio as I was sitting in the Phoenix airport, they announced that the flight to Vegas was full. The airline were looking for volunteers to give up their seats.

In exchange, they'd give you a $100 voucher for your next flight and a first class seat in the plane leaving an hour later. About eight people ran up to the counter to take advantage of the offer.

About 15 seconds later all eight of those people sat down grumpily as the lady behind the ticket counter said, "If there is anyone else OTHER than the flight crew who'd like to volunteer, please step forward . . . "


A young man who was rather awkward and shy asked one of his older, more experienced friends how he was always so successful with the ladies.

"It's easy," said the older of the two. "The trick is to get the conversation rolling. I always start with one of three topics; family, food or philosophy. Any girl in the world is bound to have something to say on one of those subjects. And once you get her talking it's easy from there!"

The very next night the young man had a date, but in the first five minutes a complete silence had fallen over the table. Finally, remembering his friend's advice, he cleared his throat and began, "So, do you have a brother?"

His date replied briefly, "No."

That didn't go very well. She didn't offer any kind of follow up information at all. Maybe he would have better luck with food. "Ummm...so, do you like Chinese food?"

Again she replied just like before, "No."

Now he was desperate. The minutes ticked away while the young man racked his brains for some kind of philosophical question. Finally he said, "Tell me, IF you had a brother, would HE have liked Chinese food?"


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