Letter to Rebecca #24-20

Trespassing, music, good rubbish and two puzzles!

Dear Rebecca

It’s amazing, isn’t it: we’ve reached the twentieth pair of letters in our correspondence, and that’s just this series. I really like the way we “riff” off each other (I hate that expression) and how the topics keep evolving. I hope you’re still enjoying them too.

Well, thank you for your last letter, which was most interesting and chortlesome. Before I reply to your points, have a look at this sign I saw this morning:

Photo by Terry Freedman

Look at the micro print: “Next of kin may be notified.” Why? What’s going to happen to trespassers? And why “may”?

That “next of kin” bit reminds me of a song called Dangerous Mood, by Joe Cocker, which includes the lyric:

I done made myself a will,

Called my next of kin,

I’m gonna love you over and over,

And again and again.

I think that’s hilarious!

People getting younger

It’s true that everyone in some sort of position of authority seems to be getting younger. I sometimes feel like saying to some of the police officers I see walking in the street, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

The most embarrassing encounter in this context occurred when my mum was mugged. Elaine and I went over to her place and we called the police. The officer they sent was a slim young man of around 25. My mum was about 85. As the policeman turned his back for a few seconds she looked at me as if to say, “Cor, I’d love to get my hands on him!”. OMG. Elaine and I were desperately trying not to laugh; we didn’t know where to put ourselves.

The age thing doesn’t bother me, because I identify as a 25 year-old. My mirror doesn’t always reflect that, which means I need to invent or buy a mirror that does.

Crossword insanity

I know what you mean about those crosswords where you need a PhD just to understand the instructions. But there is one kind that I really do enjoy, the type that features clues like this:

1 Not to be outdone, Bill takes on number 25.

2 A sad day in Acton if you’re on a 25.

25 See 1 across

Once you crack what number 25 (in this example) is, everything falls into place. For instance, the key word in one crossword was “roller”, so the clues led to answers like “roller skates”, “roller coaster” and so on.

Another kind, which mainly seem to appear in novelty collections, are little stories:

One 23 a 3 discovered that a 14 had taken place. Taking out his 22 he saw, out of the 6 of his 4…

In that example it would be:

One day a policeman discovered that a burglary had taken place. Taking out his notebook he saw, out of the corner of his eye…

As Fats Waller might have said, ain’t that a killer?

Cheating on Rubik’s Cube

Our discussion about people who surreptitiously “solve” the Rubik’s Cube by taking it apart and then assembling it reminds me of the time I introduced a computerised bat and ball game to a nephew of ours, who was about 10 at the time. Unknown to him, I’d hacked the game and gave several of my bricks special powers. For example, some of them couldn’t be destroyed at all (those were called “Life bricks”), and some were twice the width of the normal bats. Of course I won every game, all the while making encouraging remarks like, “Take that, sucker”, and “I’m the champ, so why not just give up now?”

The next time I saw him he’d figured out how to crack the game himself, and made all of his bricks Life bricks, thereby rendering it pointless to even play the game in the first place. He may have been good at computing, but he hadn’t learnt about subtlety. Perhaps I should have introduced him to Stephen Potter’s Gamesmanship, subtitled “The art of winning games without actually cheating”.

Click the here to see this book on Amazon (affiliate link)

There’s one marvellous section on chess, which details how someone was able to convince anyone he played against, and the game's spectators, that he was a brilliant player without winning a single game. The way he did it was as follows.

After a few moves on both sides he would say, “Hmm, well-played. I can see that in another four moves you’ll take my bishop. I wonder if — no, it’s no good, because in fourteen moves’ time you will have cornered me. So I might as well resign now. Would you mind if I just jot down the state of the board? Chess News usually publishes anything I send them.”

Quite brilliant, wouldn’t you agree? After all, it conveys the impression that you can see nearly twenty moves ahead, that you’re a good sport, and a chess correspondent. And all without winning.

Too much choice

I agree with you about the ridiculous amount of choice that some hostelries provide. I’ve often thought that about coffee shops:

Me: May I have a latte please?

Barista: Large or medium¹, Sir?

Me: Medium, please.

Barista: Ordinary milk, lactose-free milk², oat milk, soya milk or coconut milk?

Me: Ordinary please.

Barista: Skimmed, semi-skimmed or full fat, Sir?

Me: Forget it: not only am I no longer thirsty, I have also lost the will to carry on.

When I used to go to a local gym, sometimes I’d stop in the gym’s café afterwards, because my arduous workout would leave me ravenously hungry³. I stopped going in the end because of the waiter’s pestering:

Me: Jacket potato and cheese please.

Waiter: Would you like beans with that, Sir?

Me: No thank you, just cheese.

Waiter: How about trying my signature homemade sauce with it, Sir?

Me: No, a jacket potato and cheese, please.

Waiter: How about a smoothie to go with it, Sir?

Me: No thank you.

Waiter: I can offer you a range of smoothies, Sir.

Me (weeping, with head on the table): Why? Why me? All I wanted was a jacket potato and cheese. When will this stop?

Films

I agree with you that Nightsleeper is rubbish. It’s amazing that the lead character can portray such a huge range of emotions without moving a single facial muscle. The technical head of cyber attacks or something is over-emotional, and inspires little confidence, and what’s even worse caused me to walk around the house for several days shouting, in a high-pitched voice with a Welsh accent, “Joe, Joe” — or rather “Jaw, Jaw” — over and over again. Fortunately the pills helped.

However, the plot is somewhat credible⁴, plus it was compelling viewing. I’m glad it was only six episodes long or I’d still be watching it now.

As a lady on my saxophone course and I agreed, it’s rubbish, but good rubbish. A bit like Alice Cooper, whose rock music is rubbish by rock music critera, but good rubbish, as epitomised by this video from that iconic music programme, Top of the Pops⁵. Listen out for the lyrics:

Well we can’t salute ya

Can’t find a flag.

If that don’t suit ya,

That’s a drag

and

We can’t even think of a word that rhymes.

I love the clothes, and the hair. I used to have long hair back then:

Terry Freedman, identifying as one cool dude

A challenge (two actually)

On the subject of films, thanks for your clue, which was:

Gallic panic: city triathletes’ toothy terror.

I finally managed to solve it thanks to your excellent advice to search Google: Under Paris. OK, well here’s mine, not films, but two books. Your challenge is to say what the titles are and how they are connected or related to each other in a way:

Test tube babies, drugged up workers

Not 1948, though it almost was!

Reading matters

Wochoo reading right now, Becks? I’m reading these:

Dystopias

Social Fiction comprises three graphic novellas. The stories are pretty dark, and remind me of the world that Judge Dredd (2000AD comic) lives in. Hitler’s People is about the people who were responsible for the Holocaust. I don’t think any of them thought that they had done anything wrong, which is quite dispiriting.

Well, I could go on and on, but I have to stop because I’m in an impending crisis situation⁶.

All the best

Terry

To anyone reading this missive, you can see the whole archive here. Rebecca should reply next Wednesday, so make sure you don’t miss that by subscribing to hers.

Thanks for reading!

1. What happened to “small”?

2. What?

3. Ten minutes slow walking on a treadmill may not seem much to you….

4. I’m referring to the hacking aspect.

5. Are you impressed with how smooth that segue was?

6. I’ve nearly finished my tea, and need to replenish the supply.