So yesterday I was in my car again as I had to deliver documents to a client. (I won't go into how sad I was and how much longer it took not being on the bike - that is a story for another time.) I noticed something very funny in front of me.
It would appear that the vendors who sell car cell phone chargers, super glue, caps, and fruit know which the soft targets is, or they just get a kick out of hassling people.
Yesterday, we were all stuck in a long queue of cars waiting for what seemed like an age, creeping slowly down the road towards the traffic light, giving ample time to the sellers to annoy all and sundry when I noticed that the lady in front of me was being harassed by every single seller, and yet I was not being approached by even one.
This is my theory:
I always look grumpy, and or busy, and or frightening, and if one of them makes the mistake of asking me how much his wares cost I either flatly ignore them, or if in a foul mood, I shout that I don't fucking care, and to fuck off and leave me alone.
I used to be all sweet and greet these people, and then I realised that no matter how polite you are, they don't care about anything other than you buying something, and if you are talking, you are a potential customer until you ignore them or be rude. This is unfortunate, but seems to be a fact.
I no longer greet these people, and ignore them as if they don't exist. This makes them ignore me back, which suits me just fine. This brings me back to the lady in front of me. For starters, she had her window open. Rookie mistake number one. If your window is open, you are fair game, and no matter what you say, these guys are going to talk to you and sell you whatever they have, and try to barter with you about the price. Secondly, she was being all sweet and greeting every person, then saying kindly and politely, no thank you, I don't need any pumice stone, any peaches, any cheap sun glasses, a handmade cloth, etc.
Of course, this just eggs them on. If you actually speak to them, this seems to indicate the beginning of a negotiation. I could see her getting more and more angry and shaking her head vigorously at each consecutive person, and could hear her getting louder and louder with each respective request. Eventually, she was almost crying. I was crying, but with laughter.
I think these sellers secretly enjoy winding up the car drivers, and probably take a bet on how many people they can upset in an hour, and try to beat their own totals in a day.
How the hell else are you supposed to keep yourself amused if that is all you have to do all day?
Saturday, January 31, 2009
My bike was spannered by a (well meaning) spanner
There is a man at my local hardware store who is very helpful, but is not technically very great. I went to the hardware to get a small shifting spanner so that I could tighten my mirrors where they are loose. I needed to adjust them, by just moving them forward untightens them, and so I needed to be able to tighten them myself.
He said the nuts were a 14 and a 15 after we went outside and measured, but then he swapped them around, and used the big one on the small one and stripped the nut. He then proceeded to strip the smaller one as well. So now, I don't know which is the correct size at all. And I have stripped nuts on my left mirror.
I have said it before, and I will say it again. I really would rather do it myself, but men keep offering to help me. One day, perhaps, a man can actually get something right, and do it better than I can.
He said the nuts were a 14 and a 15 after we went outside and measured, but then he swapped them around, and used the big one on the small one and stripped the nut. He then proceeded to strip the smaller one as well. So now, I don't know which is the correct size at all. And I have stripped nuts on my left mirror.
I have said it before, and I will say it again. I really would rather do it myself, but men keep offering to help me. One day, perhaps, a man can actually get something right, and do it better than I can.
Please just LISTEN to me...
I messed with the settings on my DVD player two weeks ago, and consequently, it stopped working. D'oh!
I phoned Stax where I bought it, and spoke to two people who didn't understand what I was talking about. After insisting to speak to other people, I got through to a third person who knew exactly what I had done, and said I just needed to bring it in and he could reset it for me.
Eventually, this morning, I took it there, and this is what happened:
Me: "Good morning. Please can you help me?"
Salesman number 1: "Certainly. What is the problem with this DVD player?"
"Well, I changed the settings on my menu and now I can hear the movies, but can't see them. I called and the person I spoke to said I should bring it in and he could reset it for me."
Salesman number 1 then plugged it in to the nearest TV and could not find a picture.
"Oh, there is no picture."
"Yes, I told you - I messed up the settings."
He then changed from AV 1 to AV 2. Still no picture.
"This is broken, and needs to go for repair."
"No, it is not broken, I told you, and I messed up the settings. I called and spoke to someone who said that I needed to bring it in to have the settings redone."
"Well, I need your remote please"
"I don't have it here, he didn't mention I should have brought it, but I am sure any of yours will work,"
"No, this is a very old DVD player, and none of my remotes will work. Besides, I can’t get a picture, it must be broken.”
No, you are on AV2, and besides, I told you, it was working perfectly well until I changed the settings.”
“Ok then your cable is broken.”
“Um, not really, because you are using your cable and it is still not working.”
“Well, I can’t get a picture either, it must be broken.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you are not listening to me. I changed the settings and it stopped working. It needs to be reset. It is not broken. And if I had brought my remote it would not make a difference because you cannot see the menu on the screen. Please can you call someone else?”
“Ok, please wait.”
He returns with another person.
Salesman number 2: “Hi. We don’t have any remotes that will work on this DVD player, you should have brought yours then I could fix the menu for you.”
“Umm, please can I explain the story to you?”
“Ok”
“It was working fine, but then I changed some of the settings. When I changed it, the picture went away, and I can no longer access the menu. I phoned and spoke to a gentleman who said he knew what I had done and I just needed to bring it in and he would fix it for me.”
“No, he was just going to do your menu thing, which I can’t do as you have not brought your remote.”
“Well, then, let me show you that it won’t work. Bring one of your remotes please.”
“We don’t have any.”
“What about these display DVD machines?”
“No, you must use yours.”
“Ok, let me ask you this – if the man I spoke to was just going to reset it using my remote, why didn’t he just tell me how to do it over the phone?”
“I don’t know, but go home and phone and I will tell you how to do it over the phone.”
“I tell you what, why don’t you write down the instructions for me now instead please?”
Well, I need to know what is on your remote before I can tell you.”
“Ok, most remotes are the same. Bring me a remote and I will tell you which one it looks like.”
“No, it has to be your one.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think you understand the problem. I cannot fix it using the remote because I cannot see the menu.”
“No, I understand exactly, and you must just change the setting.”
“Please can you call someone else?”
Salesman number 3 overhears me getting louder and louder as this has now taken about half an hour, or it certainly feels like it. He says: “I know what to do – bring me a component cable please.”
He then plugs it into other coloured holes – green and something, not the white, red and yellow that I have, and changes it back to AV1, and voila. There is a picture. He then explains that I have just hosen progressive scan which does probably not work with my old TV – double checking that I don’t have a green plug hole, and then fetches a remote from just one metre away, resets the menu which we can now see, and it is fixed. (PS - my TV is probably 2 years old, and if that is old then I don't know...)
The other two kind of slink off invisibly, and I thank the third man profusely, wondering why the hell he didn’t come and help earlier. He was probably getting his dose of info for HIS daily blog.
It is as I have said before – don’t assume I am stupid and know nothing. LISTEN to what I am saying and assume that I may know what I am talking about.
Generally, I find that women and men are treated equally, and I have no cause ever to decry being a girl and not a boy, especially not at work. But just sometimes, I come across some Neanderthal man who thinks I must be stupid just because I am female. To you Mr Fuckwit, I say, don’t try help me with what you think I need, open your ears and listen. This will lessen both our frustration levels, and prevent GBH to some small-minded git who has not progressed past a third grade education.
Rant off.
I phoned Stax where I bought it, and spoke to two people who didn't understand what I was talking about. After insisting to speak to other people, I got through to a third person who knew exactly what I had done, and said I just needed to bring it in and he could reset it for me.
Eventually, this morning, I took it there, and this is what happened:
Me: "Good morning. Please can you help me?"
Salesman number 1: "Certainly. What is the problem with this DVD player?"
"Well, I changed the settings on my menu and now I can hear the movies, but can't see them. I called and the person I spoke to said I should bring it in and he could reset it for me."
Salesman number 1 then plugged it in to the nearest TV and could not find a picture.
"Oh, there is no picture."
"Yes, I told you - I messed up the settings."
He then changed from AV 1 to AV 2. Still no picture.
"This is broken, and needs to go for repair."
"No, it is not broken, I told you, and I messed up the settings. I called and spoke to someone who said that I needed to bring it in to have the settings redone."
"Well, I need your remote please"
"I don't have it here, he didn't mention I should have brought it, but I am sure any of yours will work,"
"No, this is a very old DVD player, and none of my remotes will work. Besides, I can’t get a picture, it must be broken.”
No, you are on AV2, and besides, I told you, it was working perfectly well until I changed the settings.”
“Ok then your cable is broken.”
“Um, not really, because you are using your cable and it is still not working.”
“Well, I can’t get a picture either, it must be broken.”
“Sir, with all due respect, you are not listening to me. I changed the settings and it stopped working. It needs to be reset. It is not broken. And if I had brought my remote it would not make a difference because you cannot see the menu on the screen. Please can you call someone else?”
“Ok, please wait.”
He returns with another person.
Salesman number 2: “Hi. We don’t have any remotes that will work on this DVD player, you should have brought yours then I could fix the menu for you.”
“Umm, please can I explain the story to you?”
“Ok”
“It was working fine, but then I changed some of the settings. When I changed it, the picture went away, and I can no longer access the menu. I phoned and spoke to a gentleman who said he knew what I had done and I just needed to bring it in and he would fix it for me.”
“No, he was just going to do your menu thing, which I can’t do as you have not brought your remote.”
“Well, then, let me show you that it won’t work. Bring one of your remotes please.”
“We don’t have any.”
“What about these display DVD machines?”
“No, you must use yours.”
“Ok, let me ask you this – if the man I spoke to was just going to reset it using my remote, why didn’t he just tell me how to do it over the phone?”
“I don’t know, but go home and phone and I will tell you how to do it over the phone.”
“I tell you what, why don’t you write down the instructions for me now instead please?”
Well, I need to know what is on your remote before I can tell you.”
“Ok, most remotes are the same. Bring me a remote and I will tell you which one it looks like.”
“No, it has to be your one.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think you understand the problem. I cannot fix it using the remote because I cannot see the menu.”
“No, I understand exactly, and you must just change the setting.”
“Please can you call someone else?”
Salesman number 3 overhears me getting louder and louder as this has now taken about half an hour, or it certainly feels like it. He says: “I know what to do – bring me a component cable please.”
He then plugs it into other coloured holes – green and something, not the white, red and yellow that I have, and changes it back to AV1, and voila. There is a picture. He then explains that I have just hosen progressive scan which does probably not work with my old TV – double checking that I don’t have a green plug hole, and then fetches a remote from just one metre away, resets the menu which we can now see, and it is fixed. (PS - my TV is probably 2 years old, and if that is old then I don't know...)
The other two kind of slink off invisibly, and I thank the third man profusely, wondering why the hell he didn’t come and help earlier. He was probably getting his dose of info for HIS daily blog.
It is as I have said before – don’t assume I am stupid and know nothing. LISTEN to what I am saying and assume that I may know what I am talking about.
Generally, I find that women and men are treated equally, and I have no cause ever to decry being a girl and not a boy, especially not at work. But just sometimes, I come across some Neanderthal man who thinks I must be stupid just because I am female. To you Mr Fuckwit, I say, don’t try help me with what you think I need, open your ears and listen. This will lessen both our frustration levels, and prevent GBH to some small-minded git who has not progressed past a third grade education.
Rant off.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Bird brain? Not really...
A few days ago, I noticed that there was a Weaver nest starting in a scruffy indigenous bush in my garden.
I need to specify that my garden is a strange mixture of English garden and scruffy indigenous plants. And yes, I planted it like that myself. I started from literally nothing – an empty stand which was built from the ground up, so I can’t even blame anyone. I just sort of changed my mind halfway and am slowly changing the look to indigenous over time.
Anyway, the birds seem to enjoy my garden because I have two scruffy trees for them to build nests in, I have a bird bath, two bird feeders, and two enormous fig trees. I say scruffy, because there really isn’t any other way to describe it. I deliberately let it be scruffy to encourage the scruffy birds to feel at home and come make nests, and they do. And now there is also a pair of Weavers there.
Unfortunately, my cat brought me, as presents you understand, the males of the only three nesting pairs of red-headed quelias. Sad, but true. She likes to sit in the tree above the bird feeders, but has only been successful at catching them when they are on the ground eating the seed that falls out of the feeder.
At the beginning of the week, as I came home, I left my door open to get a breeze inside. A few minutes later I heard a commotion outside – like many birds fighting or yelling. I went to look, and there must have been 10 to 15 little brown jobs sitting on my fence yelling at me that the bird feeder was empty.
Say what you like about birds being stupid. They do know when their food is finished, and they certainly know who feeds them in my garden.
I need to specify that my garden is a strange mixture of English garden and scruffy indigenous plants. And yes, I planted it like that myself. I started from literally nothing – an empty stand which was built from the ground up, so I can’t even blame anyone. I just sort of changed my mind halfway and am slowly changing the look to indigenous over time.
Anyway, the birds seem to enjoy my garden because I have two scruffy trees for them to build nests in, I have a bird bath, two bird feeders, and two enormous fig trees. I say scruffy, because there really isn’t any other way to describe it. I deliberately let it be scruffy to encourage the scruffy birds to feel at home and come make nests, and they do. And now there is also a pair of Weavers there.
Unfortunately, my cat brought me, as presents you understand, the males of the only three nesting pairs of red-headed quelias. Sad, but true. She likes to sit in the tree above the bird feeders, but has only been successful at catching them when they are on the ground eating the seed that falls out of the feeder.
At the beginning of the week, as I came home, I left my door open to get a breeze inside. A few minutes later I heard a commotion outside – like many birds fighting or yelling. I went to look, and there must have been 10 to 15 little brown jobs sitting on my fence yelling at me that the bird feeder was empty.
Say what you like about birds being stupid. They do know when their food is finished, and they certainly know who feeds them in my garden.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Watch out for me man!
Today I had to ride to my office in Northcliff to fetch some documents and clear out the last of the stuff since we had moved offices. I had my panniers on, so I thought I would be fine.
On the way, I was in the middle lane minding my own business, as one does, when I noticed in my rear view mirror, a car swerving in and out of all the cars, generally driving like an idiot. The traffic was backed up, and slow, and there were many trucks and busses as well.
Said cretin was approaching me quickly, and suddenly, the traffic in front of me stopped. Since most of us in my lane had sensible following distances, we all managed to stop with little or no effort. But the cretin apparently didn’t see me. At the last moment, he suddenly swerved (thank goodness I had seen him, and moved across to the right of the lane to give myself, and him, as much room as possible), and poured the Coke he was drinking all over his shirt. He must have missed me by 5 centimetres. I guess it’s true what they say – a miss is as good as a mile, but I would rather not have had it happen at all. I have to admit though, I was laughing at him having poured his Coke all over himself.
Just goes to show. Don’t drink and drive.
On the way, I was in the middle lane minding my own business, as one does, when I noticed in my rear view mirror, a car swerving in and out of all the cars, generally driving like an idiot. The traffic was backed up, and slow, and there were many trucks and busses as well.
Said cretin was approaching me quickly, and suddenly, the traffic in front of me stopped. Since most of us in my lane had sensible following distances, we all managed to stop with little or no effort. But the cretin apparently didn’t see me. At the last moment, he suddenly swerved (thank goodness I had seen him, and moved across to the right of the lane to give myself, and him, as much room as possible), and poured the Coke he was drinking all over his shirt. He must have missed me by 5 centimetres. I guess it’s true what they say – a miss is as good as a mile, but I would rather not have had it happen at all. I have to admit though, I was laughing at him having poured his Coke all over himself.
Just goes to show. Don’t drink and drive.
Monday, January 26, 2009
I cut my hair yesterday
My hair is longer than it has ever been. Or was, until yesterday. It is now short. Ish. It comes to just below my jaw line, and looks pretty fabulous, even if I say so myself.
The only thing I truly, deeply, honestly, and without hesitation, like about myself is my hair. I got my Mom's hair, and for that I am truly thankful. She has beautiful hair and I got it too.
Until I started riding my bike, it was always healthym never knotted, was shiny, full, thick, and generally beautiful. But riding with it sticking out of the helmet, even in a plait, was causing it distress, and it was becoming damaged, split on the ends, and generally not so shiny anymore. It was time to take action.
Not one to sit around, (after all the ghost of granny Siddle has affected us all, and when it is time to do something, it is time, no waiting, no thinking, and no procrastinating) so off I went to the hair place on Sunday, and had it all chopped off.
The guy tried to stop me, adn asked me if I was sure since it was so long, etc, but my mind was made up. As he hacked away with his razor blade, all I could see was 35 plus centimeters of hair falling into huge piles on the floor. momentarily I wondered if I was doing the right thing, but I knew I was. Anyway, no point is stopping now - I would look like a freak. ha ha
When he had finished, there was enough hair on the floor to stuff a small pillow. I certainly have a lot of it.
I love it now, and it fits nicely under my helmet. No more helmet hair for me, I hope.
Pic to be placed later, once I have one, but i am very pleased with the outcome. :)
The only thing I truly, deeply, honestly, and without hesitation, like about myself is my hair. I got my Mom's hair, and for that I am truly thankful. She has beautiful hair and I got it too.
Until I started riding my bike, it was always healthym never knotted, was shiny, full, thick, and generally beautiful. But riding with it sticking out of the helmet, even in a plait, was causing it distress, and it was becoming damaged, split on the ends, and generally not so shiny anymore. It was time to take action.
Not one to sit around, (after all the ghost of granny Siddle has affected us all, and when it is time to do something, it is time, no waiting, no thinking, and no procrastinating) so off I went to the hair place on Sunday, and had it all chopped off.
The guy tried to stop me, adn asked me if I was sure since it was so long, etc, but my mind was made up. As he hacked away with his razor blade, all I could see was 35 plus centimeters of hair falling into huge piles on the floor. momentarily I wondered if I was doing the right thing, but I knew I was. Anyway, no point is stopping now - I would look like a freak. ha ha
When he had finished, there was enough hair on the floor to stuff a small pillow. I certainly have a lot of it.
I love it now, and it fits nicely under my helmet. No more helmet hair for me, I hope.
Pic to be placed later, once I have one, but i am very pleased with the outcome. :)
Friday, January 23, 2009
I love my car but...
Today I went to work in my car. I decided to "treat" myself to heels, a skirt, a fancy hairdo, and makeup. These are luxuries I usually don't indulge in when i ride my bike to work, so they are a real treat. I looked good this morning, and my hair was going to stay like all day. Not like with a helmet - the plait starts out beautiful, but by the time the helmet has gone on and off, and the wind has blown all the bits that stick out all over the show, I end up looking like I stuck my finger in an electrical outlet.
I am considering cutting my hair short again, but can't seem to bring myself to do it. It grows out long in just two years, but even still. I think it would be too sad.
Anyway, back to today, and my car. I have been used to commuting on my bike to work which is in Sandton now. Unfortunately, I have to use the Grayston Offramp which from 6:30 until 9am is shock a block with cars. SO much so that the first day I went there I thought there was an accident causing the delay. It is an incredibly busy intersection. It takes half an hour in rush hour to go the 100m from the highway to the top of the offramp.
I have often wondered why they call it "rush hour" when everyone goes so slowly?
On my bike, it takes me a few minutes to wiggle my way through the cars and get to the top and proceed to work, making my total travel time from door to door about half an hour. in a car it has been as long as 2 hours for the same distance.
If I leave at 9am it still takes me half an hour in the car, and of course, that is way too late to be arriving at work, so what is a girl to do?
I had to go in my car today as I was having a very important client meeting, and had to wear a suit etc, and not look like a biker chick. Plus, the rain came down like the Flood as I had to leave, so to admit, for once, I was actually glad to be in my car, or I would have arrived looking like a drowned rat, and the papers that I had to bring would have been destroyed. My boss - who was running the meeting - would not have been pleased, and we probably would have lost the business. This is unfortunate, as I think it should not really matter what I look like, but whether or not I can do the work, but there it is.
I will say this though, Come rain or shine, I still prefer my bike in the mornings and the evenings to my car. I love my car, and I will never sell her, but nothing beats my bike for the traffic.
I am considering cutting my hair short again, but can't seem to bring myself to do it. It grows out long in just two years, but even still. I think it would be too sad.
Anyway, back to today, and my car. I have been used to commuting on my bike to work which is in Sandton now. Unfortunately, I have to use the Grayston Offramp which from 6:30 until 9am is shock a block with cars. SO much so that the first day I went there I thought there was an accident causing the delay. It is an incredibly busy intersection. It takes half an hour in rush hour to go the 100m from the highway to the top of the offramp.
I have often wondered why they call it "rush hour" when everyone goes so slowly?
On my bike, it takes me a few minutes to wiggle my way through the cars and get to the top and proceed to work, making my total travel time from door to door about half an hour. in a car it has been as long as 2 hours for the same distance.
If I leave at 9am it still takes me half an hour in the car, and of course, that is way too late to be arriving at work, so what is a girl to do?
I had to go in my car today as I was having a very important client meeting, and had to wear a suit etc, and not look like a biker chick. Plus, the rain came down like the Flood as I had to leave, so to admit, for once, I was actually glad to be in my car, or I would have arrived looking like a drowned rat, and the papers that I had to bring would have been destroyed. My boss - who was running the meeting - would not have been pleased, and we probably would have lost the business. This is unfortunate, as I think it should not really matter what I look like, but whether or not I can do the work, but there it is.
I will say this though, Come rain or shine, I still prefer my bike in the mornings and the evenings to my car. I love my car, and I will never sell her, but nothing beats my bike for the traffic.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
5 items or less check out queue
I was buying lunch in the Woolies just across from my office - the usual, a pepper steak pie for my boss and a cornish pastie for me, and I have also bought a few vegies in my basket, and headed to the basket queue. (I often give my boss carrots... but that is another story for anotehr time :)) I was wearing my biker gear, and carrying my helmet.
This particular Woolies has a basket queue and a trolley queue. It seems though, that not everyone sees the bakset queue as most people with only a few items still go to the basket queue. Which is fine. Whatever.
As I was standing in the queue, I noticed, for the first time, a sign that said - "5 items or less", and of course, I read it out loud - a quirk I have. The man in front of me replied "yes, they have a buzzer that will go off if you have more than 5 you know!: and smiled. To which I said: "well, I have seven. I hope they don't throw me out...". He laughed and commented: "Ja, it's those bikers you know - always causing trouble aren't they?"
We both had a good good giggle, and despite getting a bit wet from the rain on the way back, the pies were delicious.
This particular Woolies has a basket queue and a trolley queue. It seems though, that not everyone sees the bakset queue as most people with only a few items still go to the basket queue. Which is fine. Whatever.
As I was standing in the queue, I noticed, for the first time, a sign that said - "5 items or less", and of course, I read it out loud - a quirk I have. The man in front of me replied "yes, they have a buzzer that will go off if you have more than 5 you know!: and smiled. To which I said: "well, I have seven. I hope they don't throw me out...". He laughed and commented: "Ja, it's those bikers you know - always causing trouble aren't they?"
We both had a good good giggle, and despite getting a bit wet from the rain on the way back, the pies were delicious.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Throttle rocker...
I have been riding a lot more, and feeling a lot more confident. I commute every day, rain or shine, and there has been a LOT of rain, and I think this is helping me.
I suppose like all things, it is a matter of practice.
I have found one small thing to help me though, and I am glad I found out about it on the forums. It is called a Throttle Rocker, or Throttle Meister. It is essentially a small plastic gadget that makes it easier to hold the juice open – using the palm of your hand and not only your fingers and grip.
It has helped me enormously, and I can’t imagine riding without one. Pic to follow shortly…
I suppose like all things, it is a matter of practice.
I have found one small thing to help me though, and I am glad I found out about it on the forums. It is called a Throttle Rocker, or Throttle Meister. It is essentially a small plastic gadget that makes it easier to hold the juice open – using the palm of your hand and not only your fingers and grip.
It has helped me enormously, and I can’t imagine riding without one. Pic to follow shortly…
Friday, January 16, 2009
Lane Splitting
I am still gaining confidence on my bike, but I do lane split even on the highway if the traffic is going slowly enough. The general consensus is that you should ride faster than 20 to 30 kms faster than the traffic around you, and I have to agree that this is certainly a good idea. I generally don't even ride as fast as that faster than the cars, as I am still gaining confidence and mastery of my bike at slow speeds.
Yesterday evening on my way home, on the highway, it was like some wonderful dream. The gaps were large, the cars were all friendly and made space, and the bikes behind me didn't seem in a hurry - they all thanked me when I moved out of their way, and it was all good.
This morning on my way into work, it was also good. Slightly less than 100% perfect, as a few cars deliberately cut me off, or tried to stop me from passing, etc. Again, this evening, coming home, it was good, and in general, the gaps were large, although I had to really concentrate.
I have made the following conclusions:
the cars are always the same, but the attitude of the rider determines the ride
As long as you have your wits about you 100%, the cars can do you no harm
if you are tired, or lacking in concentration, you will think it is the cars who are out to get you
if you go too fast, you will eventually come too close to a car, and we all know what the outcome of that is
if you ride like a bat out of hell, you will end up going back there
if you thank the cars, they will be more inclined to move out of the way next time
if you are patient, things are always better for you
even if the car does do something stupid, you are the one who will fall off and have an owie
cars just don't look in their rear view mirrors
I have decided that although it sometimes feels like all cars are out to kill all bikers, and deliberately cut us off, push in front of us, and block our way, it is not the case. They are either just in a hurry, don't care, don't see us, or are thick.
Either way, as a biker, I have to suck it up and wait a few extra seconds. This way I will live to write my daily reports in my blog.
ME, out.
Yesterday evening on my way home, on the highway, it was like some wonderful dream. The gaps were large, the cars were all friendly and made space, and the bikes behind me didn't seem in a hurry - they all thanked me when I moved out of their way, and it was all good.
This morning on my way into work, it was also good. Slightly less than 100% perfect, as a few cars deliberately cut me off, or tried to stop me from passing, etc. Again, this evening, coming home, it was good, and in general, the gaps were large, although I had to really concentrate.
I have made the following conclusions:
I have decided that although it sometimes feels like all cars are out to kill all bikers, and deliberately cut us off, push in front of us, and block our way, it is not the case. They are either just in a hurry, don't care, don't see us, or are thick.
Either way, as a biker, I have to suck it up and wait a few extra seconds. This way I will live to write my daily reports in my blog.
ME, out.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Not everyone hates bikers...
I saw the magic word today as I was leaving the Chemist on the way back to my bike in the parking lot - SALE - 30% off all items. It was a boutique-type clothing shop in the Carlswald centre that has quite girly clothes, and so I stopped in, helmet in hand, jelly tot bib done up, and laptop back pack on my back.
As I walked in, the lady said sweetly "just let me know if I can help you dearie", and smiled at me. I then took a look at hte clothes.
The other lady behind the counter said "Oh! You are a biker. What kind of bike do you ride?"
10 points for getting "ride" right, and antoher 10 for being so polite I thought. We had a great chat. She had a BM F650 GS which she sold before she emmigrated to NZ, but has had to come back with her husband. SHe says she misses her bike ilke crazy. I bet she does.
I don't know whether her shop assistant know she used to ride or that she just doesn't have a saak with bikers. I was pleasantly surprised by that.
Also, while standing in the queue at Dischem, an elderly lady saw me cleaning my visor. (It was raining and it got dirty).
"What a beautiful helmet" she said. "A lady one - being pink!"
She then proceeded to tell me all about her grand son and his riding and how she worries about him, and how she almost drove through a red robot and that it can happen and taht is why it is so dangerous cos people in cars day dream, etc.
She went on to tell me all about how she and her husband have retired and bought a plaas in the karoo, and how they are leaving tomorrow morning at 5am.
It is lovely when people treat you as a human even when they can clearly see you are a biker. Not everyone does.
:)
As I walked in, the lady said sweetly "just let me know if I can help you dearie", and smiled at me. I then took a look at hte clothes.
The other lady behind the counter said "Oh! You are a biker. What kind of bike do you ride?"
10 points for getting "ride" right, and antoher 10 for being so polite I thought. We had a great chat. She had a BM F650 GS which she sold before she emmigrated to NZ, but has had to come back with her husband. SHe says she misses her bike ilke crazy. I bet she does.
I don't know whether her shop assistant know she used to ride or that she just doesn't have a saak with bikers. I was pleasantly surprised by that.
Also, while standing in the queue at Dischem, an elderly lady saw me cleaning my visor. (It was raining and it got dirty).
"What a beautiful helmet" she said. "A lady one - being pink!"
She then proceeded to tell me all about her grand son and his riding and how she worries about him, and how she almost drove through a red robot and that it can happen and taht is why it is so dangerous cos people in cars day dream, etc.
She went on to tell me all about how she and her husband have retired and bought a plaas in the karoo, and how they are leaving tomorrow morning at 5am.
It is lovely when people treat you as a human even when they can clearly see you are a biker. Not everyone does.
:)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Do children think parents don't know?
It is back to school time, and I saw a few little kids in the shops pulling the oldest tricks in the newest ways. It reminded me of the ways I used to do the same thing. My question is this: do children really think that parents are stupid?
For example, there are two pairs of scirrors - one plain, one pretty and funky. The child says: "but the teacher says we have to get THAT one!"
I can remember saying exactly the same thing. I also remember that my Mom would sometimes let me get away with it, and sometimes not. But I can't remember if I thought she was really that silly as to believe that the teacher had specified a coloured or pretty eraser instead of a plain white one. HA HA
The same thing happened just yesterday in the shop with a small child. She insisted that Mom would always buy THAT cereal for breakfast for her specially for school, and not the plain one. Now consider this: does she really think that the Dad has never paid attention to what she eats? But he did buy it for her.
It was very cute watching the parents weighing up which things to let their children get away with and which not. At the end of the day, I think it was all fairly well done, and the children didn't get away with murder, so I guess it is all good.
I just wonder if I really thought that my parents didn't know I was trying to pull one over on them?
For example, there are two pairs of scirrors - one plain, one pretty and funky. The child says: "but the teacher says we have to get THAT one!"
I can remember saying exactly the same thing. I also remember that my Mom would sometimes let me get away with it, and sometimes not. But I can't remember if I thought she was really that silly as to believe that the teacher had specified a coloured or pretty eraser instead of a plain white one. HA HA
The same thing happened just yesterday in the shop with a small child. She insisted that Mom would always buy THAT cereal for breakfast for her specially for school, and not the plain one. Now consider this: does she really think that the Dad has never paid attention to what she eats? But he did buy it for her.
It was very cute watching the parents weighing up which things to let their children get away with and which not. At the end of the day, I think it was all fairly well done, and the children didn't get away with murder, so I guess it is all good.
I just wonder if I really thought that my parents didn't know I was trying to pull one over on them?
Friday, January 09, 2009
Dropped my bike AGAIN FFS
I decided to join the biker’s coffee bunch this morning at 6am…
I woke up at 5:30, and decided to snooze for a bit, and eventually got going at just before 6m, knowing that they would still be there if I got there about 6:10 or so.
I didn’t remember that I had to turn left as if to go to Sage Corporate Park, and went straight instead. I then, as soon as it was safe to do so, turned right and wanted to turn around in a drive way, but was on too steep an incline to push the bike backward. I decided there was nothing for it but to do a circle in the bundu. I know that I will not drop the bike if I keep moving, so I try my best to keep going, but the ground is soft from the rain yesterday, and I slip and stall. Then I drop the bike and fall quite badly., trapping myself under it the deepest I have yet. I manage to get out, and although I am little hurt, actually have hurt by back quite a lot, I jump up so that the passing motorists know that there is not an emergency…
One man does stop and help me lift the bike though. I am very greatful as in trying to lift it up myself, on an incline, and a bit shaken, I cannot do it myself.
I then go to the coffee place and find out that although they do serve coffee for the bikers, they don’t start serving breakfast until 7am, which is when I have to leave for work.
Anyway, at 7, I leave, after having met a few more friends, and I make my way to the shopping centre (Benmore Gardens) just over the road from my offices, only to find everything shut (Fair enough at 7:17 in the morning I suppose) except for Fornos. Thank God for Fornos. I order a toasted chicken mayo and wait. The lady who placed the order didn’t do it properly, and it has to be reordered since the manager keeps asking me if I am ok, and eventually he figures out that I am waiting for a take away, and he reorders it. I guess having a biker menacingly standing at the till is not godo for business. Ha ha.
The sarmie was very delicious, and despite the challenging start to the day, I am determined that it will be a good one.
Janis, out.
I woke up at 5:30, and decided to snooze for a bit, and eventually got going at just before 6m, knowing that they would still be there if I got there about 6:10 or so.
I didn’t remember that I had to turn left as if to go to Sage Corporate Park, and went straight instead. I then, as soon as it was safe to do so, turned right and wanted to turn around in a drive way, but was on too steep an incline to push the bike backward. I decided there was nothing for it but to do a circle in the bundu. I know that I will not drop the bike if I keep moving, so I try my best to keep going, but the ground is soft from the rain yesterday, and I slip and stall. Then I drop the bike and fall quite badly., trapping myself under it the deepest I have yet. I manage to get out, and although I am little hurt, actually have hurt by back quite a lot, I jump up so that the passing motorists know that there is not an emergency…
One man does stop and help me lift the bike though. I am very greatful as in trying to lift it up myself, on an incline, and a bit shaken, I cannot do it myself.
I then go to the coffee place and find out that although they do serve coffee for the bikers, they don’t start serving breakfast until 7am, which is when I have to leave for work.
Anyway, at 7, I leave, after having met a few more friends, and I make my way to the shopping centre (Benmore Gardens) just over the road from my offices, only to find everything shut (Fair enough at 7:17 in the morning I suppose) except for Fornos. Thank God for Fornos. I order a toasted chicken mayo and wait. The lady who placed the order didn’t do it properly, and it has to be reordered since the manager keeps asking me if I am ok, and eventually he figures out that I am waiting for a take away, and he reorders it. I guess having a biker menacingly standing at the till is not godo for business. Ha ha.
The sarmie was very delicious, and despite the challenging start to the day, I am determined that it will be a good one.
Janis, out.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Nigerian IP addresses?
We just recently moved into new offices, and as usual there are a few issues with networks, mail access, and the like. The mail is supposed to work through a sat link directly into the cloud, but the ISP’s servers are blocking the IP addresses for some reason.
There has been lost of investigation and it is still not solved, but I suspect a very simple reason for this. The IP range that has been assigned to our network is Nigerian. I can tell this because when you log on to Google it takes you to the Nigerian site.
Perhaps I will set up my own 411 scam. Watch this space…
There has been lost of investigation and it is still not solved, but I suspect a very simple reason for this. The IP range that has been assigned to our network is Nigerian. I can tell this because when you log on to Google it takes you to the Nigerian site.
Perhaps I will set up my own 411 scam. Watch this space…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)