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Monday, 21 March 2016

Gallons into an egg-cup

For ages no Jehovah's Witness has asked me to let Jesus into my life. I used to be abrupt, now I might be gentler: urging him or her to do the same for music. Wholeheartedly, submissively, expecting ennoblement.

Years ago I converted my 200 LPs into CDs to occupy the same shelves as my existing CDs. Then I fed CD files into an MP3 player for holidays, listening to the Late Quartets after swimming off the isle of Karpathos in the Dodecanese. The MP3 player was fiddly but it did the job for a decade.

Now a much grander project: transferring virtually all my 700-plus CDs on to 32 gigabyte card hardly bigger than a postage stamp. That's the dark blue bit sticking out from the white card-reader.

Over the weekend we dined out, staying overnight. I stuck the incomplete 32 GB card into the elaborate car radio (an under-appreciated asset), switched on and scrolled through many titles clearly displayed on the large screen. Did VR fancy the Brahms violin concerto? She did. The last strains faded in the restaurant car park -  David Oistrakh, once on a battered LP dating back to the Ark. Neither of us had spoken for an hour. I suggested a powerful white Rhone. The restaurant offered Croze Hermitage. Amen.

Hardline Hope, a novel (17,063 words)
For her it was a game; what she was banking on was he’d take it at face value. A furtive, speculative look crossed his face and she knew it was happening. She gave him a little nudge: “One of those pants suits, tight round the derrière. With these glasses I’m halfway there.”

“Yeah, but can you sell?”

“To men, possibly. To women almost certainly... I’d be saying: this could be you, Miss Solicitor, Miss Marketing Director...”

3 comments:

  1. Jehovah's Witnesses: A couple of times a year and elderly example of the species, male, well dressed (they all are)and leaning heavily on a walking stick rings my doorbell. He usually has a spruce young man (presumably a "trainee") in tow.
    He is courteous but has long ago realised that I can manage nicely without the "son of god", thank you.
    In my twenties I examined all aspects of the Christian faith and various world philosophies. I enjoyed a few, jolly, Salvation Army meetings (really practical Christians who I will always support charitably) and sat, bored solid through a couple of silent Quaker meeting house sessions.
    I eventually came to the conclusion that there are aspects of Buddhism, Taoism and Stoicism that appeal to me. Mix them all in with my practical humanism and you have my take on life.
    Incidentally, I once contacted the British Humanist Society and found that it is a proselytising sect like all the others.
    The old boy I mentioned at the start says he knows he will never convert me but enjoys our little philosophical chats, which is why he returns (the "trainee" looking on in bewilderment). I am happy to talk to him on the doorstep if I am not busy, but the cardinal rule is never to invite "them" in.
    Music - I cannot abide when driving. My SAABs had elaborate music systems I never used. Just as well as my current, ancient (2000)Toyota Yaris Verso is only equipped with a cassette player which I have not even tried, although I still have a few tapes knocking around. At home I still enjoy vynil - its body and richness exceeding the somewhat tinny (in comparison) DVDs

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  2. Please don't mention gigabytes so late in the evening Robbie. I tried to teach something about megabits per second today and made the mistake of attempting maths in front of a room of fifteen year old lads. An abject failure testament to my lack of knowledge about the eight times table and the difference between dividing and multiplying.

    Question: If a data connection works at 8 megabits per second, how long will it take to send 8 megabytes of data?
    Answer: I'll get my coat!

    The government is insistent on swapping ICT for Computer Science in order to produce a generation that can add in binary but not use a spreadsheet. We teachers are struggling to keep up!!

    PS I am not a robot because I can spot pancakes!

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  3. Avus: If he turns up again, don't answer the door, instead start memorising the telephone directory.

    Loving vinyl: this has always astonished me; any imagined richness is surely blotted out by the crackles and pops. A vinyl may lack this unwanted unaccompaniment but only if it's not been played, nor even taken out of the sleeve. There's the effort involved too: Wagner's Meistersinger lasts 5½ hr; in LP terms that's nine discs or 18 visits to the record player; vs. 5 visits with CDs. Tinny? It would take perverse device to render Bryn Terfel's voice as tinny. Did you try cutting the treble a bit?

    Bonde Two: It's eight bits to a byte - a byte being the equivalent of a nominal word. I leave you to do the arithmetic.

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