Impartial Media?

 Saturday. 6.05 a.m. It's a completely different sort of day, on the weather front, compared with yesterday morning. It is mild and snow free. It hardly seems possible things could change so drastically, but that is what the weather in this country is like changing virtually hourly.

6.35 p.m. After the row caused by Gary Lineker, the BBC football pundit who made some comment about the Government's immigration proposals, which contravened BBC impartiality rules, many of the usual football programmes on BBC1 have either been cancelled or cut short. As someone who isn't a football fan, I find the fact that virtually all of BBC1 on a Saturday is taken over by football totally unacceptable. It has to be the most boring sport ever invented and when they have any sort of programme on the subject, they have talking heads who waffle on and on endlessly about the game. So, as far as I am concerned, they can keep him off our screens for as long as possible.

Sport seems to get more than its a fair share of screen time on television, on all channels. Whenever there's a big football game, it can often displace other programmes and it's not just the actual game which takes over, but we have to endure hour after hour of droning 'so-called' pundits rambling on and on and on. So, while we have all this sports stuff, why is there nothing about the arts? We used to have a raft of art magazines on television, Omnibus and Arena on BBC channels and on ITV, 'The South Bank Show.' You could hardly move for adaptations of stage plays on television on BBC1 during the 1960s and 1970s. On a Sunday evening on BBC1, 'Play of The Month' showed adaptations of world theatre, such as Ibsen, Shaw, Shakespeare and many more. No doubt they didn't get very high audience ratings, but at least the BBC wasn't churning out endless soaps, game shows and reality television shows. Or shows with 'so-called celebrities in them. 

The arts seem to be sidelined in many areas of life. The government treats the arts as something that shouldn't be taken seriously, particularly in education. It should cover a wide range of pursuits, not just fine arts, but also music and drama. But it most definitely should be taken seriously, because drama and music particularly lead to jobs which are important to the economy of the country. You only have to consider theatre, with big West End productions drawing sizeable audiences. Then there are the subsidiary employment activities which are important to the theatre, such as costume design and making, set design and building, lighting, and management, both backstage and front of house. This then leads on to cinema, with similar subsidiary employment in front of and behind the camera. Photography, set design, editing and so on. This, too, with television. Never more so, with the growth of streaming services such as Netflix, Disney + and Britbox. And, of course, traditional television services such as BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and 5, all producing not just drama but other genres of programming.

As regards the arts on television, why are art programmes hidden in the schedules? If BBC1 or BBC2 has an arts magazine, it's almost always aired in a late-night slot. Very rarely would it be shown earlier in the evening, say, 7p.m. Even when ITV had 'The South Bank Show', it would be shown around 10.30 p.m. on a Sunday.

Weekend Writing and Printer Hitches (and other matters)

 Saturday. 4.00 a.m. So, here I am once more, not being able to sleep and feeling really hungry. So I decide to make myself toast and put some of the raspberry conserve on it which I had I bought in Sainsbury's about a week ago. (Incidentally, conserve isn't jam, because it has a higher concentration of fruit compared to jam. I'm not sure of the percentage, but its a good deal higher, which means it's got more fruity flavour.) So, I organize my workspace in the kitchen and get out the toaster and make three slices of bread into, what else? Toast! As well as toast, a mug of tea. Then I go into the lounge and decide, after some consideration, to watch something on BBC iPlayer and watch an old episode of 'W1A', the spoof documentary series which stars Hugh Bonneville amongst other actors. Actually, it's not ''old' in the sense of being old, or ancient, in the sense that it's 30-40 or more years old. If you get what I mean. Or from the BBC archives, such as something by Frankie Howerd or Harry Secombe. I love this show. It's not going to appeal to a lot of people. I think you have to appreciate the wordplay, the dialogue is almost circuitous. People speak in a sort of new speak (the language used in Orwells '1984.' They go to meetings which never seem to produce anything. They have jobs which have titles which don't have any real function. Its management for management's sake. The show is what I think you'd call a docudrama, or, at least a spoof of one. Dramady, (ie: Drama/comedy.) David Tennant does a rather fine job of providing the voice-over, which is what you always get in these 'reality' documentaries. Even that has a hint of mangled words, and twisted language, for want of a better word. It's interesting that he is used as he does a lot of genuine voice-over work on other 'real' documentaries, which gives a sort of realism to the fiction.

7.15 a.m. I've been out with Alfie. We did the obligatory circuit of Oldbrook Green and I now have 2480 sets registered on my FitBit. It's quite chilly, and we have been warned, on BBC Breakfast, that its going to become colder over the next few days, and there will even be snow in parts of the United Kingdom.

10.10 a.m. I have given Alfie a bath! He was getting rather smelly, and it seemed a good idea to clean him up. He goes for a haircut on 23rd March, which is quite a long time to wait. I have to organize things before he goes in the bath, for example, closing the bedroom door, because I don't want a wet dog on my bed. I have to take off his harness and collar before he goes in the water. I run a few inches of warm water into the bath before he goes in and use a plastic jug, bought for the purpose, to rinse off the shampoo, which is a product intended for use when bathing dogs. It doesn't create too much lather, which is easy to rinse off. I also use the shower, taking off the device which fits on the wall, to help rinse off the lather. He was filthy and the water showed how dirty he was. I think he likes being made a fuss off, particularly when I work the shampoo into his coat. Once he's washed, he comes out of the bath and I towel him dry, as much as possible, but, like all dogs who get wet, he shakes himself to take off most of the water. I then gave him a bit of a brush, and he's now settled down on the sofa, smelling a good deal better than before the bath!

Sunday. 7.15 a.m. Alfie came to me in bed and keep staring at me. I didn't pick up what he was doing and why, but then I thought he might need to go out. He barked, so I confined him to the lounge by closing the door and then went into the bathroom to get dressed. By the time I came out, dressed and ready to go out, I realized he'd had a 'little accident' on the floor. I managed to clear it up, and I now realize that the treats I gave him might have had 'consequences' such as the accident. Then I scooped him up, and we went out and onto the grass alongside Strudwick Drive. 

I have completed the transfer of the handwritten piece of writing onto word processing. I wanted to read it on a printed copy, so I set up the MacBook and the Canon printer, but the printer steadfastly refused to function. So, we're back on the 'dysfunctional printer' mode, which I thought had been rectified with the new Canon, but obviously not. I have a feeling that it might be possible to sort this out by resetting the printer, by whatever means, like a factory reset. I have attempted, but during this, the printer decided to print out two copies of what I had wanted. How, I don't know, as it wasn't connected to the Wi-Fi or the MacBook. I think it may have been enabled because the printer would supposedly have all the print data stored within itself and so could print those two copies. There is no other explanation for this. But I have now managed to read the print copy of the new piece of writing, and I am more than pleased with it and now I can continue with my writing. But still, the printer is causing a headache.

4.25 p.m. I'm watching the 'Great British Pottery Throw Down, which is on Channel 4, but I watch via catch-up. I'm not a great lover of some of the competitions on television, especially 'Strictly Come Dancing.' It's too hyped for my liking and anything with so-called 'celebrities' is a turn-off and some of the things which the judges say can be really nasty. That's not so with the pottery 'Throw Down.' No celebrities in sight, and the judges don't come out with nasty comments. Having attempted pottery at college, I found it very difficult to throw anything on a wheel and didn't succeed with it. I'm better at other areas of art, photography and creative writing are my thing.

Life, The Universe and Something or Other . . .

(Thursday) My hair is in need of being cut. I can't remember when it was last cut. I know so many businesses are closed due to the confounded coronavirus lockdown, but going without this necessity means my hair is getting really annoying. Under normal circumstances I would have it cut around every 4-6 weeks. I have booked an appointment for 14th April through Central Barbers website. Paid and booked, so all I have to do on the day is merely turn up on time. Don't even have to worry about payment as it's done. A good deal easier and you don't have to wait. I think in the future I shall keep doing this.

Later. I turn on the television with the expectation of watching the latest edition of The Repair Shop, when the announcer says ‘there’s a change to our schedule with another coronavirus press conference.’ My heart sinks, as I really don’t need to listen to the doom mongers droning on relentless. Pointless is transferred to BBC2, but I just switch off the television instead.

I've signed up to a streaming service, much like Netflix, called 'BroadwayHD,' which works through my Fire Stick. As a result of the pandemic lockdown, which means that all live theatres have been closed, I am more than delighted to be able to enjoy recorded theatre performances through this service. I have already enjoyed a performance of Noel Coward's sparkling comedy, 'Private Lives,' and I'm currently watching the RSC's amazing nine-hour version of 'Nicholas Nickleby' which was one of the earliest productions shown on Channel 4 when it opened in 1982. I did watch it then, but am so glad to be able to revisit it now. Ideal material to enjoy, done in 9 parts and a definite binge-worthy piece of theatre or television.

(Friday)12.55a.m. I've woken up. The usual thing, wander to the toilet. I can hear the wind whistling around the building. It's quite an odd sound. No rain, as far as I can tell. I hope it stays dry, but somehow I doubt it. Alfie comes into the bedroom to find a comfortable space next to me. Then I get a sudden urge to cough. I've had this annoying cough for some while, and I'm more than certain that it's caused by one of the medications I'm on, one of the side-effects. Having done a search on-line, I find that it is one of the side-effects. I bought Robitussin, a cough syrup, in Lloyd's in Sainsbury's and it seems to keep it in check so I've just taken a dose, finishing off one bottle and I have another in reserve.

I had to order atorvastatin, one of my medications. I realised when I did my evening meds that the one I took yesterday evening was the last one, so I went on the appropriate app on my iPad and ordered it. I was more than a bit surprised to find a text message from Lloyd's pharmacy telling me the meds were ready to collect this morning so I went to Sainsbury's, where Lloyd's pharmacy is to pick it up. I did a bit of shopping, milk in particular. I parked as normal in the underground carpark (that's not actually correct. It isn't 'underground,' It's underneath the store.) Usually the moving walkway or travelator (I've spent some time on Google trying to find the right word for this.) whisks you up to the store, along with the annoying voice which keeps on telling you that you must 'stand still and hold onto the rail' or whatever it is and reminds you to 'push your trolley off the walkway,' rather like some teacher taking to a classroom full or rather dim primary school-age children. As if you're going to forget to push your trolley 'off the walkway,.' What do they expect you to do, crash onto the floor in a heap? It is somewhat patronising. Never mind. Enough digression. The aforementioned walkway wasn't operating as it should (it seems the lifts and walkway in Sainsbury's has a habit of failing when it shouldn't.) So it was odd walking up the walkway when it wasn't moving. 

When I had finished my shopping, I paid, having used a self-service till (getting quite good at using these things by now, and the thing seemed to work perfectly!) I pushed my trolley towards the top of the travelator and almost got on it, as a member of staff stopped me, so I had to go down in a lift to the carpark. It's virtually impossible to go down on the travelator with a trolley when it's not running, because the wheels get caught in the grooves on the surface and you can't move the trolley off until you get to the bottom.

Soggy Saturday!

(Saturday)It was a bit of surprise to myself and Alfie, to find it was raining when we ventured forth at 7.30 this morning. Alfie wasn't keen, as I expected, but we soon got back inside after a bit of a soggy walk. I think I've been rather hasty in suggesting, in my last blog post, that spring was on the horizon. It's certainly not particularly spring-like today, with snow falling and being cold and positively wet and soggy underfoot. Never mind. Just have to put up with the weather.

I'm watching my fair share of television. No need to say why. The lockdown has meant I have more than enough television to watch. With Netflix and Amazon Video and something in the region of 20,000 hours of 'on-demand' material on BBC iPlayer and other services, we're spoilt for choice. 

How childish and pathetic! The EU is upset that we got our vaccine registered by the relevant medication agency and rolled out (I've already had my first injection of the Astra-Zeneca vaccine.) and can't get their own vaccine rolled out fast enough because of all the red tape that this crazy bloc has in the way. They have attempted to stop the vaccine being exported to the UK, and in particular, Norther Ireland. Just shows how unnecessary the EU is and I'm so glad we've left and can go our own way. They sound like spoilt little children in the playground who can't get their own way, so they have a temper-tantrum. Sour grapes more likely. 

This morning we had a Zoom Men's Breakfast. It was the first meeting of any sort for this group, which I have been part of for around two years. Not a 'breakfast' in the sense that we could enjoy a cooked fry-up of bacon, egg, sausage, tomato, beans, mushrooms, hashbrowns etc etc, but it was great to have a chat, even though Alfie couldn't understand why he wasn't getting attention (as usual!) We hope to be able to meet up at the Oaktree Centre for a proper breakfast and fellowship in the not-too distant future, depending, of course, on the lockdown restrictions.

i took Alfie out as soon as the Zoom meeting was over. It was raining slightly, mixed in with a flurry of snow. Alfie was extremely reluctant to stay out and really wanted to go home as soon as he could. I felt the same, to be honest.

I have watched a documentary on All4, the Channel 4 'on demand' service, their equivalent to BBC iPlayer. It was a documentary series called 'Time Signs,' which was presented by Mick Aston, who went on to be an archeologist on 'Time Team.' I think this series, which began in 1991 and ran for a couple of series, was the forerunner of 'Time Team,' which ran for more than 20 years and was very much responsible for my interest in archaeology and history. Mick Aston is best remembered for his brightly-coloured striped jumpers and somewhat unkempt appearance. He was extremely knowledgeable and there wasn't much he didn't know about his subject.

The post arrived really late today, around 4.10p.m. No doubt they will say it's 'because of the pandemic,' or something equally lame. No real excuse if you ask me. I've been trying to get Legal and General to contact me regarding a life insurance policy I have with them. I had an email (I think it was an email and not a letter.)informing me that they had written to me, but the letter was returned by the Post Office. I don't think they had my new address (it's quite difficult to make sure everyone has your new address when you move, although I had set up a 'redirection' account with the Post Office, but I think it was only for six months.) Anyway, I replied via email (this must have been at least four months ago.) and heard nothing. I have absolutely no idea what the letter was likely to be about. I attempted to get into my account on the L and G website, but it just would not work. It ended up with the system saying they'd send me a password in the post, which came the other day, but even then it would not work, so I couldn't see any mail that was likely to have been addressed to me and sent. I then emailed and I have responded to it with my telephone number so someone is going to ring me. All I can say is, what a performance!? What on earth . . .etc etc.

On another note, very similar in some ways. I have mentioned that I had my first covid vaccination a couple of weeks ago, at my doctor's surgery. I get a letter in the post this afternoon, inviting me to book an appointment for the second injection. I can ring a number or use their website. Which I decide to do, as it's a good deal easier. Or so I thought. Having got into the site, I put my postcode into the system, with the idea of finding a vaccine centre. All it came up with was centres miles from Milton Keynes, one in Biggleswade (the other side of Bedford) and even some in London. Ridiculous. No sign of my doctor's surgery in Milton Keynes. At the end of the letter it says 'if you've had the first vaccine, ignore this letter. The NHS will contact you when it's time for your second dose.' I have to wait until my surgery contacts me. So, why waste time, money and resources writing to me in the first place? This shows how the NHS wastes time and resources on this sort of thing. No wonder it's struggling financially. Over top-heavy with bureaucracy.