Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 58
January 23, 2014
On this day...
Hard to believe it's almost a decade since this wonderful medley was what gently roused those of up who had to wake up early and whose radios were tuned to BBC Radio Four from our blissful slumbers.
Starting the station's day with a theme was thought something of an anachronism is the new, streamlined Birt-ian BBC. Now, instead of music, we get 'news briefing' which more often than not is a blatant infringement of Trades Description legislation. Most mornings, at five-thirty (following the Shipping Forecast) we early morning listeners are patronised with a main headline about something that hasn't actually happened yet, a second item about what they think someone might say later on that day and then, in other news, a cheerful list of things that happened 'on this day' several years ago.
Well I was listening this morning. And they didn't report the most momentous, monstrous and malign event to have happened 'one this day', in this case back in 2006. Anyone else lament the passing of this wonderful piece of music?
Let's all write in and demand they bring it back!
Starting the station's day with a theme was thought something of an anachronism is the new, streamlined Birt-ian BBC. Now, instead of music, we get 'news briefing' which more often than not is a blatant infringement of Trades Description legislation. Most mornings, at five-thirty (following the Shipping Forecast) we early morning listeners are patronised with a main headline about something that hasn't actually happened yet, a second item about what they think someone might say later on that day and then, in other news, a cheerful list of things that happened 'on this day' several years ago.
Well I was listening this morning. And they didn't report the most momentous, monstrous and malign event to have happened 'one this day', in this case back in 2006. Anyone else lament the passing of this wonderful piece of music?
Let's all write in and demand they bring it back!
January 20, 2014
Is Children's TV Good for Kids?
Reading this weekend that the Prime Minister has 'successfully' (his words) curtailed his children's 'screen time' - including banning television in the morning - reminded me of a wonderful episode (they're all wonderful - this one especially so) of Michael Rosen's Radio Four programme Word of Mouth all about the evils (or otherwise) of children's TV.
Searching the BBC website reveals (unaccountably) that this episode is unavailable on iPlayer (apparently it's the only one of the series that isn't) but you can still download the podcast (odd)! But if you haven't heard the programme yet I urge you to do so before the BBC catches on and decides to take it down for some obscure copyright reason or because they think it's just too darned interesting and Reithian and all that old fashioned 'informed, education and entertained' nonsense.
I'd go as far as to say that every parent of small children (well, every owner both of small children and a television) ought to listen just to gain an insight into what the makers of these programmes, the ones many of our children watch, are doing.
Michael Rosen has a foot in both camps of course, being himself the author of several children's TV favourites (including episodes of the new series of Old Jack's Boat which starts tonight) and so his analysis is all the more insightful.
And you'd expect him, as a writer, to have a keen interest in the linguistic content of such children's TV programmes too, especially as language development is the raison d'être of so many of them. Play School, for example, was started in the belief that there were some children 'out there' who might otherwise lack some form of interactive conversation. Yes - they were (and are) encouraged to talk to (at?) the television.
With that in mind, it seems obvious that the language such programmes uses needs to be carefully considered. But would you believe that The Clangers scripts (which were written, in English, and then 'blown' on the Swanee whistle by their creator, Oliver Postgate) were actually censored? Yes! That's how seriously the BBC takes the content of its children's programmes.
Mind you, at least you could never mistake them (The Clangers with their Swanee whistle language) for anyone else. Because I have to confess that, although I watch most CBeebies programmes with my children and do my best to encourage a little gentle interaction, the hard-working, multi-tasking voice-over artists do occasionally cause me some confusion. Ever thought you were watching Tilly and Friends only to hear what you think is the voice of Octonaut Peso (Otherwise known as Paul Panting)? Or be reminded of Mike the Knight whenever Elvis appears in Iconicles?
Keith Wickham, in addition to voicing Shellington/Professor Inkling in Octonauts, also turns his hand to being several of Thomas the Tank Engine's friends as well as moonlighting as Nelson and Victor in 64 Zoo Lane. Oh, and if you're watching Tommy Zoom, he's Polluto too.
But the best, or the worst (or most confusing, to my ears) is one Rob Rackstraw, who seems to be both Kwazii in the aforementioned underwater adventures and, on dry land, the voice of Spud/Roley/Travis/Scoop in Bob the Builder as well as appearing as several of the Mr Men. And he's written episodes of Avenger Penguins too!
Yeeow!
Searching the BBC website reveals (unaccountably) that this episode is unavailable on iPlayer (apparently it's the only one of the series that isn't) but you can still download the podcast (odd)! But if you haven't heard the programme yet I urge you to do so before the BBC catches on and decides to take it down for some obscure copyright reason or because they think it's just too darned interesting and Reithian and all that old fashioned 'informed, education and entertained' nonsense.
I'd go as far as to say that every parent of small children (well, every owner both of small children and a television) ought to listen just to gain an insight into what the makers of these programmes, the ones many of our children watch, are doing.
Michael Rosen has a foot in both camps of course, being himself the author of several children's TV favourites (including episodes of the new series of Old Jack's Boat which starts tonight) and so his analysis is all the more insightful.
And you'd expect him, as a writer, to have a keen interest in the linguistic content of such children's TV programmes too, especially as language development is the raison d'être of so many of them. Play School, for example, was started in the belief that there were some children 'out there' who might otherwise lack some form of interactive conversation. Yes - they were (and are) encouraged to talk to (at?) the television.
With that in mind, it seems obvious that the language such programmes uses needs to be carefully considered. But would you believe that The Clangers scripts (which were written, in English, and then 'blown' on the Swanee whistle by their creator, Oliver Postgate) were actually censored? Yes! That's how seriously the BBC takes the content of its children's programmes.
Mind you, at least you could never mistake them (The Clangers with their Swanee whistle language) for anyone else. Because I have to confess that, although I watch most CBeebies programmes with my children and do my best to encourage a little gentle interaction, the hard-working, multi-tasking voice-over artists do occasionally cause me some confusion. Ever thought you were watching Tilly and Friends only to hear what you think is the voice of Octonaut Peso (Otherwise known as Paul Panting)? Or be reminded of Mike the Knight whenever Elvis appears in Iconicles?
Keith Wickham, in addition to voicing Shellington/Professor Inkling in Octonauts, also turns his hand to being several of Thomas the Tank Engine's friends as well as moonlighting as Nelson and Victor in 64 Zoo Lane. Oh, and if you're watching Tommy Zoom, he's Polluto too.
But the best, or the worst (or most confusing, to my ears) is one Rob Rackstraw, who seems to be both Kwazii in the aforementioned underwater adventures and, on dry land, the voice of Spud/Roley/Travis/Scoop in Bob the Builder as well as appearing as several of the Mr Men. And he's written episodes of Avenger Penguins too!
Yeeow!
January 15, 2014
How to REALLY write that novel!
If your New Year's Resolution is to get writing, I have a hot tip. (I have several, in fact, in not one but two easy-to-read and practical books which you can buy here and here.)
Unfortunately, today's hot tip occurred to me too late to be included in either of the aforementioned tomes. Which is a pity really, as I'm beginning to think it's probably the single most important piece of advice I could give an aspiring writer. It might even be the writer's holy grail, I don't know. But I'm certainly impressed.
In order to reveal it I need to explain something of the background to this revelation. Years ago when I started writing my first book I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. A small part of this was borne of modesty, but mostly it was fear of failure as well as a desire to avoid distressing friends and family all of whom would (and probably still do) flee in mental terror from the thought of being pestered, bored and prevailed upon to read, comment and then extol the (rather limited) virtues of my modest literary musings.
In short, I was a little bit ashamed. Until the thing was finished, I didn't have the brass neck to tell anyone about it lest they think I might come over all pretentious pseudo-novelist and start wearing a cravat.
Now, of course, with half-a-dozen books under my belt, people actually ask me what I'm working on whether I like it or not. And that's proving to be the single biggest motivating factor as I scale the mountain of my next book.
Because I've been talking about my latest book since starting to research it last year. It began when I was interviewed on BBC local radio about writing and the host, Melvyn Prior, not unreasonably asked what I was currently working on. In the safety of the studio (nobody listens to local radio do they?) I blabbed. And I've been blabbing ever since.
It probably helps that it's a subject people seem genuinely interested in. World War One of course is big news this year and my book examines an aspect of the conflict hitherto overlooked.
But to be honest, I'd tell people about it whether they were interested or not. Because telling everyone what you're doing means you've got to do it. Either that, of lose face.
I'm sorry if this moment of epiphany is rather mundane. In fact, you probably knew it all along anyway. But I've only just discovered it which proves, if nothing else, that no matter how old or wise we are, we've all still some capacity for learning.
Now to get writing! Drink, anyone?
Unfortunately, today's hot tip occurred to me too late to be included in either of the aforementioned tomes. Which is a pity really, as I'm beginning to think it's probably the single most important piece of advice I could give an aspiring writer. It might even be the writer's holy grail, I don't know. But I'm certainly impressed.
In order to reveal it I need to explain something of the background to this revelation. Years ago when I started writing my first book I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. A small part of this was borne of modesty, but mostly it was fear of failure as well as a desire to avoid distressing friends and family all of whom would (and probably still do) flee in mental terror from the thought of being pestered, bored and prevailed upon to read, comment and then extol the (rather limited) virtues of my modest literary musings.
In short, I was a little bit ashamed. Until the thing was finished, I didn't have the brass neck to tell anyone about it lest they think I might come over all pretentious pseudo-novelist and start wearing a cravat.
Now, of course, with half-a-dozen books under my belt, people actually ask me what I'm working on whether I like it or not. And that's proving to be the single biggest motivating factor as I scale the mountain of my next book.
Because I've been talking about my latest book since starting to research it last year. It began when I was interviewed on BBC local radio about writing and the host, Melvyn Prior, not unreasonably asked what I was currently working on. In the safety of the studio (nobody listens to local radio do they?) I blabbed. And I've been blabbing ever since.
It probably helps that it's a subject people seem genuinely interested in. World War One of course is big news this year and my book examines an aspect of the conflict hitherto overlooked.
But to be honest, I'd tell people about it whether they were interested or not. Because telling everyone what you're doing means you've got to do it. Either that, of lose face.
I'm sorry if this moment of epiphany is rather mundane. In fact, you probably knew it all along anyway. But I've only just discovered it which proves, if nothing else, that no matter how old or wise we are, we've all still some capacity for learning.
Now to get writing! Drink, anyone?
January 13, 2014
January 12, 2014
How to save money in 2014
The recovery might be happening and the green shoots of an economic spring gently poking through the frozen ground of austerity, but the small matter of Christmas was but days ago and soon, on doormats up and down the country, will come floating down the bill.
They all weigh the same when the postman delivers them. Pity, then, that this months is likely to be clinically obese.
But despair not. There are ways to save, I pay the bills, and still live the good life. All it takes is a little bit of ingenuity.
I was introduced to a new comparison website just before the big 'C'. The timing came in handy as with Barclaycard's new Bespoke Offers service you can make savings of up to 50% on a host of regular as well as luxury purchases. The site brings together supplier's and manufacturer's discount offers and brings them together. It's like browsing the sales - all the sales - on your browser - and at any time of year!
I hardly needed much persuasion to try out the site. I'm a firm fan of comparison sites in general, having written about Idealo in the run up to Christmas and subsequently used some of the usual suspects (GoCompare, Moneysupermarket etc.) to get a cheap insurance deal just after the festive period. (Home plus contents with acknowledgement of out increased flood risk, increased cover but no hike in our excess for less than last year's premium is proof of the pudding!)
The reported rise in online shopping is no great surprise given it's convenience. But using the right sites can lead to massive savings, making those January bills a little easier to manage.
They all weigh the same when the postman delivers them. Pity, then, that this months is likely to be clinically obese.
But despair not. There are ways to save, I pay the bills, and still live the good life. All it takes is a little bit of ingenuity.
I was introduced to a new comparison website just before the big 'C'. The timing came in handy as with Barclaycard's new Bespoke Offers service you can make savings of up to 50% on a host of regular as well as luxury purchases. The site brings together supplier's and manufacturer's discount offers and brings them together. It's like browsing the sales - all the sales - on your browser - and at any time of year!
I hardly needed much persuasion to try out the site. I'm a firm fan of comparison sites in general, having written about Idealo in the run up to Christmas and subsequently used some of the usual suspects (GoCompare, Moneysupermarket etc.) to get a cheap insurance deal just after the festive period. (Home plus contents with acknowledgement of out increased flood risk, increased cover but no hike in our excess for less than last year's premium is proof of the pudding!)
The reported rise in online shopping is no great surprise given it's convenience. But using the right sites can lead to massive savings, making those January bills a little easier to manage.
January 8, 2014
New (school) Year Resolutions
The regular reader of my 'puerile witterings' (their words) might recall my previous renouncing of all things resolution, new year's or otherwise.
Partly (I'll admit) this is because I'm rather poor at keeping them. But the main reason, I like to think, is that they're actually rather set up to fail. Because if a New Year's Resolution was something you really wanted to do, surely you'd have done it by now (or resolved to) rather than waiting until 'new year'?
Nevertheless, the start of term and a return to the dreaded 'school run' has brought to mind certain irritations I could well do without. So I thought I might give the ol' resolutions another go in the hope of achieving a certain zen-like peace each morning.
A fortnight of being blissfully unaware of the traffic chaos on local roads, being free of pushchair wars and dog-poo dodging has made the culture shock of the start of term this year even more acute. So here are a few of the stress-points of my daily round that I hereby resolve to avoid getting worked up about. For a few days, at least.
First, I resolve not feel smug about those parents we pass on our daily walk or cycle to school and whom we see still trying to park their cars as we arrive at the school gates, unload bags and say our goodbyes. Some are still trying to find a legal berth for their cars as I stroll home for breakfast. Others don't bother, and park anywhere and everywhere which brings me on to…
Number two: parking. Talking of cars (as I was) this year I resolve not to stress about the atrocious, dangerous and downright deplorable examples of parking near the school gates. Nor will I allow myself to get annoyed by those motorists who go to great lengths to avoid causing congestion to their fellow drivers by instead causing enormous inconvenience to those of us who use the pavements.
I will also try desperately hard not to stress about the irresponsible dog-owners who allow their pets to foul the many footpaths we use on the way to school. And I promise I won't threaten them with the return of their canine property once I've scraped it off the pushchair wheels.
I will not under any circumstances remonstrate with the drivers of vehicles we see each morning doing this…
or this...
Nor will I do more than tut and sigh when yet another motorist cuts us up while we're on the bike, or passes and then deliberately pulls to within a millimetre of the kerb so we can't pass on the inside when they're stuck in the inevitable traffic queue.
Next, I will try my damnedest not to care when people spit in the street. I will walk past as if the ground has just been strewn with sweet-smelling rose petals, rather than a glob of gelatinous green gob we're in danger of taking home on our shoes.
And finally, on what should be the nicest part of our daily route as we cross the town park (and - yes - as early as eight o'clock in the morning!) I will resolve to ignore those poor inebriated souls who feel the need to relieve themselves in full view against a tree...
All this I resolve to do in order to lower my blood-pressure on the school run this year.
Oh, and one more thing.
I will maintain a constant vigil of the skies for airborne pigs, too.
Partly (I'll admit) this is because I'm rather poor at keeping them. But the main reason, I like to think, is that they're actually rather set up to fail. Because if a New Year's Resolution was something you really wanted to do, surely you'd have done it by now (or resolved to) rather than waiting until 'new year'?
Nevertheless, the start of term and a return to the dreaded 'school run' has brought to mind certain irritations I could well do without. So I thought I might give the ol' resolutions another go in the hope of achieving a certain zen-like peace each morning.
A fortnight of being blissfully unaware of the traffic chaos on local roads, being free of pushchair wars and dog-poo dodging has made the culture shock of the start of term this year even more acute. So here are a few of the stress-points of my daily round that I hereby resolve to avoid getting worked up about. For a few days, at least.
First, I resolve not feel smug about those parents we pass on our daily walk or cycle to school and whom we see still trying to park their cars as we arrive at the school gates, unload bags and say our goodbyes. Some are still trying to find a legal berth for their cars as I stroll home for breakfast. Others don't bother, and park anywhere and everywhere which brings me on to…
Number two: parking. Talking of cars (as I was) this year I resolve not to stress about the atrocious, dangerous and downright deplorable examples of parking near the school gates. Nor will I allow myself to get annoyed by those motorists who go to great lengths to avoid causing congestion to their fellow drivers by instead causing enormous inconvenience to those of us who use the pavements.
I will also try desperately hard not to stress about the irresponsible dog-owners who allow their pets to foul the many footpaths we use on the way to school. And I promise I won't threaten them with the return of their canine property once I've scraped it off the pushchair wheels.
I will not under any circumstances remonstrate with the drivers of vehicles we see each morning doing this…
or this...
Nor will I do more than tut and sigh when yet another motorist cuts us up while we're on the bike, or passes and then deliberately pulls to within a millimetre of the kerb so we can't pass on the inside when they're stuck in the inevitable traffic queue.
Next, I will try my damnedest not to care when people spit in the street. I will walk past as if the ground has just been strewn with sweet-smelling rose petals, rather than a glob of gelatinous green gob we're in danger of taking home on our shoes.
And finally, on what should be the nicest part of our daily route as we cross the town park (and - yes - as early as eight o'clock in the morning!) I will resolve to ignore those poor inebriated souls who feel the need to relieve themselves in full view against a tree...
All this I resolve to do in order to lower my blood-pressure on the school run this year.
Oh, and one more thing.
I will maintain a constant vigil of the skies for airborne pigs, too.
January 5, 2014
Thank you Santa
Scene: the living room, round about twelfth night.
Following discussion about when to take the Christmas decorations down the conversation moves to thank-you letters and the list of intended recipients...
Mummy:We've already seen Grandma and Grandpa and said 'thank you' to them. You'll see Tony and Jill so we'll say thank you to them then. It's really the people you won't see for a while that you need to write thank you letters to.
Charlie:Well there's someone I never see who I'm going to write the first 'thank you' to!
Mummy:Who's that Charlie?
Charlie: Santa! I never see him and he always gives me more presents than anyone. I think my first letter should be to him.
Christmas might be over (nearly) but the spirit lives on...
Following discussion about when to take the Christmas decorations down the conversation moves to thank-you letters and the list of intended recipients...
Mummy:We've already seen Grandma and Grandpa and said 'thank you' to them. You'll see Tony and Jill so we'll say thank you to them then. It's really the people you won't see for a while that you need to write thank you letters to.
Charlie:Well there's someone I never see who I'm going to write the first 'thank you' to!
Mummy:Who's that Charlie?
Charlie: Santa! I never see him and he always gives me more presents than anyone. I think my first letter should be to him.
Christmas might be over (nearly) but the spirit lives on...
December 29, 2013
Absent-Mindedness in a Parish Choir
Today is the first Sunday of Christmas. You see, far from being 'all over', it's only just begun.
In case you didn't get your five colly (or 'calling', but they're actually blackbirds for whom 'colly bird' is a country nickname) birds this morning I have a present in the form of one of my favourite Christmas readings, from Thomas Hardy's novel Under the Greenwood Tree. (Hardy would've known all about 'colly' birds I feel sure.)
As well as a novelist, poet and countryman Hardy was also an accomplished musician. Perhaps that's why I like this passage so well, even though the musicians all come to a sticky end.
It 'appended on the Sunday after Christmas, the last Sunday they every played in Longpuddle church though they didn't know that then…
In case you didn't get your five colly (or 'calling', but they're actually blackbirds for whom 'colly bird' is a country nickname) birds this morning I have a present in the form of one of my favourite Christmas readings, from Thomas Hardy's novel Under the Greenwood Tree. (Hardy would've known all about 'colly' birds I feel sure.)
As well as a novelist, poet and countryman Hardy was also an accomplished musician. Perhaps that's why I like this passage so well, even though the musicians all come to a sticky end.
It 'appended on the Sunday after Christmas, the last Sunday they every played in Longpuddle church though they didn't know that then…
