Sayings: Before you can say Jack Robinson

Once upon a time, you could have told me Jack Robinson was a jack in the box, the name meant nothing to me.

Not until Phryne Fisher came along, a rather brilliant 1920s private detective series set in the back streets of Melbourne, as well as more salubrious houses of the rich and famous.
In this series, there is a policeman, a foil for her detective moments, and a love interest that is always just beyond her grasp, a man by the name of Inspector Jack Robinson.

How coincidental.

But…

As for the saying, before you can say Jack Robinson…

It has nothing to do with Phryne Fishers Inspector.

Instead,

There is one story of a politician, Jack Robinson, in the late eighteenth century who was accused of bribery on the floor of the house of commons in England. His accuser was another MP who was asked to name the culprit, and thereby coined the term, ‘I could name him as soon as I could say Jack Robinson’.

The second was a Jack Robinson, the hero of a story written in the nineteenth century who came home to find his intended wife married to another, and to assuage the pain of it was back to the sea, ‘afore you could say Jack Robinson’.

I’m sure there’s a ton of other saying that could be attached to the name, but these seem to be the accepted reason for the term ‘before you can say Jack Robinson’.

Searching for locations: The Paris Opera House, Paris, France

This was one of the more interesting experiences for the grandchildren as they were, as all young girls are, interested in ballet.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit which included some time watching ballet practice.

I could not convince anyone to take the elevator back down to the ground floor as it was suspected we might be ‘attacked’ by the ‘phantom’.  Certainly, the elevator was very old and I think at the time it was being repaired.

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Part of the Grand Staircase in Palais Garnier Opera de Paris

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The ceiling above the main staircase.  The ceiling above the staircase was painted by Isidore Pils to depict The Triumph of ApolloThe Enchantment of Music Deploying its CharmsMinerva Fighting Brutality Watched by the Gods of Olympus, and The City of Paris Receiving the Plan of the New Opéra.

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The ceiling of Chagall at the Palais Garnier

On 23 September 1964, the new ceiling of the Opéra Garnier was inaugurated with great pomp.  It was painted by Marc Chagall at the request of André Malraux

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Amphitheatre and Orchestra Pit entrance

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Interior, and doorways to boxes

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Box seats in the auditorium

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Ornate ceilings and columns

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Seating inside the auditorium

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The day we were leaving Paris, was the first night of the Bolshoi Ballet.  My two granddaughters were greatly disappointed at missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime, to see the Bolshoi Ballet at the Paris Opera House.

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But we did get to see the principals practicing.

In a word: Sheet

Well, we all know what a sheet is, it’s one of those things you put on a bed.  A bottom sheet, a fitted sheet, a top sheet, flannelette sheet.

It could also be a piece of paper, e.g. pass me a sheet of paper please, only to get in reply, what size?

There can be a sheet of flames, best if you see one get away as fast as you can.

Of course, that fire can be put out by rain sheeting down.

You can have a sheet map, that is one that opens out.  Funny how you can never get them folded back the same way.  And a problem when you’re in a car and open it out – hang on, I can’t see out the window!

That lake is a lovely sheet of water, very still just as the sun comes up, and then, what a reflection.  Great if you are a landscape painter.

Then there’s sheet metal, did that in school and wasn’t very good at it.

If you’re a philatelist, then there’s always a sheet of stamps, might be worth something in a hundred years’ time.

Then, if it is worth millions, you might turn white as a sheet with shock.

But the best of all, if you drink too much it is said you are ‘two sheets to the wind’.

When you’re given another chance, it is like being given a clean sheet.

And another form might be to do with sailing when you sheet a sail, which is to say you are making it either tauter or less taut.

English can be confusing sometimes, can’t it?

The land of the long white cloud

In a country that is renowned for clouds, and even having the nickname of ‘the land of the long white cloud’ there is always a few clouds hanging around, or, as on some of the days of our most recent holiday, more than a few.

Unfortunately, these were not snow clouds as my grandchildren had hoped.  They saw snow for the first time, but it may have been all that more special if it had snowed while they were there.

This day, was, for a while, dark and gloomy.  The rain threatened but never came.

This was a day of sporadic sunshine and a cold breeze

This was one of the better days, with sunshine in winter, and some spectacular landscapes on offer for keen photographers

This day had the odd lonely cloud hoping to make an impact

or clouds that just skimmed the surface of Lake Taupo at sunrise

Sayings: Beyond the pale

I’ve often said, when espying an injustice that was so outrageously displayed that no one could miss it, as being beyond the pale.

The pale within a fence became an area of land within a boundary such as a county, and then to areas within Ireland that were held by the British. As these became smaller, those areas were deemed to be uncivilized.

This, in modern parlance, beyond the pale refers to someone’s behavior being outside the accepted norm.

 

There’s also…

In a word: Pale

Which is the color of the face of a person who is usually desperately unwell?

As distinct from a pale face, a white man is described by the American Indians. This, sadly, was learned from American westerns, motion pictures that told a rather interesting version of events between the Indians and the new settlers.

Paleface was in one movie, in particular, Bob Hope.

A pale can also be a single upright piece of wood in a fence.

Something could pale into significance, or be a pale imitation of a better quality article.

Not to be confused with a pail, which is a bucket, wooden or otherwise, that holds liquids.

The most famous of which is that which Jack and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water, and, well, you know how that ended.

In a word: Piece

Aside from the fact that it really means part of something else, we’ve got to remember that it is one of those ‘i before e except after c’ things.

I have a piece of the puzzle.  Well, maybe not.  You know what it’s like when you’re assembling a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle.  Yes, you get to the end and one piece is missing.

You’re so angry you want to give someone a piece of your mind.

Just remember not to give too many people pieces or you will become mindless.

We might be listening to a musical piece, which can be a movement, I think, in a symphony

Or we might piece together the parts of a child’s toy, especially on that night before Christmas when everything can and will go wrong.  I’ve been there and done that far too many times.

I’ve been known to move a chess piece incorrectly, no, come think of it, I’m always doing that

Some people call a gun a piece.

This is not to be confused with the word peace, which means something else, and hopefully, everyone will put away their pieces (guns) and declare peace.

And, every Sunday, at the church, there’s always an opportunity to say to the people around you ‘peace be with you’.

I wonder if that works very well if the person standing next to you is your enemy?

I should not be reading posts…

Today as I always do, I go through the last 100 or so posts that turn up in my WordPress reader, and read what are generally some of the most interesting items that will brighten up my day.

Then I find others that, well, are quite frankly disturbing.

My problem might be that I am so far removed from the situation that my perspective is different, tempered perhaps by the fact we get news from a great many different sources, and not from only a few, and some, in a way, quite radicalised in getting their message across.

The news can be black or white with no shades in between. And that sort of news, or opinion, can be damaging, especially if the reader is continually bombarded with a specific message that purports to be ‘right’ to the detriment of all else.

They say the two subjects that should never be spoken about are religion and politics. They’re right, whoever they were, because both a polarising, and both find their proponents with views that are quite strong. And they will argue that your opposing view is wrong, wrong, and wrong, because your sources are ‘radical’ and ignore the ‘truth’.

When the same message comes from both sides of the street, how did you get an informed view?

So, in my infinite wisdom, I bit. I had to say something, and I know I will get a blast, from a pile of people who radically oppose everything I’ve said. In a society that extolls free speech, I expect that. We all have a right to an opinion. The day we don’t, well, let’s not go there, that’s just fuel for the fire of both sides arguments against the other.

But one thing I did say, rather than sign petitions to muzzle or get rid of big tech, whatever big tech is, I thought a more radical approach was necessary.

Let’s get right of computers altogether.

Then I realized the folly of my statement. That meant I would not have this medium to extoll my, sometimes idiotic, notions of how to make the world a better place.

Thinking about it a little more, other than the fact I would lose my platform to speak about this that and the other, it’s not as daft as it sounds.

Computers have done nothing but cause trouble since the day they were invented. Yes, they have advantages, but think of the job losses, think of the crime, think of the scams, think of the cyber bullying, think of the government control over us, the list would go on forever, and we would all eventually be struggling to find a reason why computers were so good.

It’s a silly idea. No one will ever decided to remove computers from the face of the earth.

But you can’t attack a problem without going to the source. Big tech is not the problem, the computer is. It’s like guns, yes, another very touchy subject like religion and politics, except there’s not a simple solution for that problem either. A gun is just a means to do something that can be done a dozen other ways.

So is a computer. Perhaps the answer is not to connect them to each other. After all the original computers were not, and as such fulfilled a lot of the the potential they were designed for. It’s only after they started talking to each other, that a whole host of other unforeseen problems arose. Or maybe they were, and were purposely ignored.

To me, the answer to the problem is far more complex, and, at the moment, far beyond our capacity to understand and resolve. Much like cancer. And, dare I say it, much like the current coronavirus.

Sadly, though, one thing will not change, I will keep reading and commenting, and sometimes make a horse’s ass of myself in the process. After all, I’m only human.

The Perils of Travelling: The last plane out on Friday night

Everyone knows that if you are on the last flight out on a Friday night the chances of you getting away on time are remote.

Yep.

We’re on the last flight out.

Yep.

There’s no way in hell we’re leaving on time.

But, here’s the thing.

Our incoming plane arrives 6 minutes late, so there’s every hope of getting away on time.

We are, of course, delusional.

Planes can’t fly without a crew, and part of our crew on another incoming plane, which is, yep,
delayed.

In fact, the whole arrivals board is lit up with the word “delayed” for every flight but our incoming plane and one other from Sydney.

And, no, our missing crew members are not on either.

So, it becomes a waiting game and placating messages from the gate crew first to tell us we’re waiting for crew and two more times to tell us we will be boarding soon.

The look on some faces says they’ve been through all this before.

Then, one of the gate staff, communicator in hand goes out to see if the errant crew members are coming. She waits a few minutes but it probably takes longer than that for them to finalize their duties on the incoming plane and get to our gate.

She returns to the gate counter just as an electric car comes towards us from one of the satellites.

Crew found.

Boarding starts.

We leave 35 minutes late. About the average time all the delayed planes were, well, delayed.

Ah, the joys of travelling on a Friday night

That was my January

It ended as a bad memory, and I can only wish that the 31st never happened.

To start with, I hadn’t slept for three days after taking myself off the anti depressants I was prescribed for back pain. That put me in a bad mood, which had been building for the three days.

Then I had to cater for a family lunch which I’d probably the most favourite thing in my life, and used it to keep my mind occupied, with great success, juggling all of the elements.

But after the adrenaline high of getting it done, after everyone went home, it was like the air had been let out of the balloon.

It might be just a symptom of the past year, where just when we thought it was getting better, along came another disaster, just to remind us that we may never get back to the normal we had before COVID came along.

Are there aspects of the measures put in place over the last year worth keeping? Yes. Like keeping 1.5 metres apart. There’s nothing worse than people leaning all over you in the supermarket, or pushing past you, or into you with the trolley driven by the child from hell.

Like sitting further apart in restaurants so you don’t have to listen to the foul mouthed drunken fool at the next table abuse staff, his guests, and our ears.

Like everyone cleaning off the child dribble, sticky ice creams and slobbered candy off the handles of the trolleys with disinfectant wipes, and doses of hand sanitiser. Some people still don’t understand the basic concepts of cleanliness.

OK, enough of a rant. I’m just tired and cranky.

I think we all have reason to be cranky though. Our politicians seem to err too far one side or too fat the other, and there never seems to be any middle ground. Fortunately most of the people in this country take everything the politicians say with a grain of salt, and can make up their own minds what is right and wrong, and very few go off on a mad tangent, and in that way we don’t suffer too much.

But we can’t leave the country, rightly so, and no one but our own people can come back, and it is these few that cause our problems. I don’t think rigid quarantine works anywhere in the world because there’s always the few that break it, and the few guards who want to profit from it. IT is perhaps the price of freedom, though some will tell you we have none.

In reality, we do, and a lot more than anywhere else in the world, except perhaps New Zealand, and good thing we are neighbours.

But as for January….

It was like December, November, October, blah, blah, blah.

I’m not expecting 2021 to be much better than 2020, and nor am I expecting the vaccine will be the Godsent we’re looking for. I think a lot of people failed to realise viruses mutate, and it takes time for that to happen. TO say you have facilitate a vaccine in record time is the statement of a fool, for that very reason.

It might not take 5 years, or 9, or 15, but it will take as long as it takes to collect all of the variations and mutations, and have a vaccine that works on all of them, not just one or two. The South African mutation is a case in point, and if it becomes the dominant strain, then we are back to square two, maybe.

Perhaps deep down that’s what is making me angry, the fact I, one of the more vulnerable, may never, ever be safe.

What I’ve been watching…

I just happened to be flicking through the endless channels of our cable service and remarking of the terrible selection available, that I stumpled across a John Wayne western.

On odd choice you might sat for a person who lives in Australia, and has had no familiarisation with old American history and the wild west. Yes, I suspect it was nothing like what we see in the movies and on television, but, no one does the American wild west like John Wayne.

Of course, it helps when other stars are in it like Dean Martine, known more for his easy style of singing than for his gun slinging. That too of Walter Brennan who turned up in an old television series The Real McCoy’s, and Ricky Nelson from the Nelson’s, another television show we used to watch.

That western was called Rio Bravo. it had basically the same script as El Dorado, and each followed the other, so I got a two for one hit. El Dorado had James Caan and Robert Mitchum, another two favorites.

Not long after that I got another dose of Wayne and Martin in The Sons of Katie Elder, no so much the same script, but the same sort of rollicking western. Bad guys, yes, were dressed in black. You could always tell who they were, without introduction.

And the landscapes the films were shot against, picturesque indeed.

There are others, like True Grit, with Glen Campbell, and it seems that a western can take a singer and turn them into an actor of sorts. Certainly, True Grit is one of my favourites.

When that brief moment of euphoria died away, it was back to the search for entertainment, and I ended up sampling a few series, just to see if any were worth watching.

Snowpiercer – what an interesting premise, seven years going around in circles on a train with what is suspected to be the last of civilization. I suspect there are more people from other countries alive, just not using a form of transport. It wasn’t all that bad…

Bridgerton – An interesting twist on the bread and butter period productions from the BBC and ITV. My favourite, and the only sane member of the family was Eloise, and don’t we all aspire as writers to be like Lady Whistledown

The Outpost – yes it’s a teen angst show, but you have to suspend belief sometime in your dotage, and settle into what might be called entertainment

His Dark Materials – Read above. Ruth Wilson is deliciously evil, most of the time!

Pennyworth – Who knew that Batman’s valet was such a complex character, with such a dry sense of humor.

Star Trek Discovery – I’m never sure where this is going or why, and at the end of this series, I’m still in the dark. Perhaps that’s why Star Trek is such demanding viewing.

The Crown – Yes, I knew there was a reason why I hated Prince Charles, and now I know. If it could be said there was a sane member of that family, it’s probably Princess Anne, though she might tend to disagree with me with the brothers she has.

I let you know if I find anything else that might tempt me to turn on the TV.

It’s certainly not to watch CNN or Fox News I can tell you.