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Mittens in Provence
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1321
It's David Hasselhoff, and he's doing a commercial for tourism in Provence dressed as a Gallic Knight.
"Did you know" he begins "That Provence is the only place in the world where it's acceptable to wear mittens to breakfast?".
Something to do with the high altitude and mountains....
"But" he continues "By lunchtime you can go about in short sleeves. Pity the people who live in Provence, for where better can they go for winter?"
Then he recites the same commercial again, only in French, and I'm torn between being impressed at his French and wondering how avaricious he must be to have to stoop to doing commercials for extra cash....then again, it's David Hasselhoff.
Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 1625
The pick today, no great alternative alternatives presenting themselves.
And I'm surprisingly impressed. Stephen Fry, (I explain to the boy - "In Britain you can be an intellectual AND an actor...), Robert Downey Jr. (One of America's top black actors), good sets, design, props, great choreography, Guy Ritchie directing (I have to respect anyone who's survived divorcing Madonna - look at what Sean Penn did in Into the Wild) - not hugely intellectual, but some very fine moments, and a good job of contemporizing and making available to later audiences the Holmes franchise - overall - especially for a Hollywood film, worth seeing. If you're into that.
The Guilt Wracked Parent
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1704
Time is run out, Xmas 2011, there's only work, no time for anything. No decorations, no tree, only work.
I make lists, the gifts I'd like to buy for people, to make for people, but there is no time for making.
The buying, there's no time for this either.
The siblings, give them wine and liquor, these things they will consume, they need nothing material. Easy enough, the restaurant is across the street from a liquor store, after work on an early departure this is done.
My father, he needs nothing, this is more tricky, try as I might I can add nothing to his list.
My daughter, she's abroad, needs little, money sent will be applied to a modest gift, of this I approve.
My son, there are ideas, shops to go to, but there's no time, a list of things to look for requires time to look for them....
There's one gift, expensive, an IPad, that I've considered for him, dismissed, I generally hate technology as a gift, but it's a last resort. It can replace - if necessary - thought and time, and at the job, at this time, there is no time for thought or shopping, no time for inspirations....
Brother and Sister are looked after, a rare - pleaded for lunch off and while wandering through a department store I have inspiration for my Father. A few shops later and I've found something closer to what I was looking for. This will suffice - the toughest person on my list by far.
But there is still the boy. There are numerous inspirations here as well, but this shopping for my father, it has consumed all of my free time....
In the end I purchase him an Ipad, I justify it with the fashion-ability of it, the argument that it will be useful (but really, how?), that he should know a different OS than windows, that everyone (who, exactly, is everyone?...) has one...
He appreciates it, thanks me, offers to return it, he knows my finances aren't THAT good...
And me, I'm the guilt wracked parent, not spending enough time with him, not spending enough time finding him the right gift, instead throwing - like so many others - money at a problem that really should be addressed by my parenting or involvement, instead I'm the guilt wracked father, throwing away money where I should be throwing my time...
The Negative Placebo
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1753
And there's X, a regular - daily - who comes into the restaurant. Occasionally, more seldom, we talk above the light and polite banter of service and customers.
"You look tired" he tells me.
It's possible, it's Christmas, this schedule, this job, who isn't tired? I agree. I'm not particularly, but, really, overall I am.
Every other day now, he comes in, tells me how tired I look. Sometimes I am, more ofter I'm not, but to him I look tired. I worry, less that I look tired, everyone here looks tired, it's the job, the season, there are countless excuses, but I worry about the Placebo Effect.
By which I mean that somehow - or other - he's reinforcing a deeply held unconscious belief that this job is killing me. Not the job, really, but the belief.
A sort of negative Placebo effect.
We all know that cigarettes are bad for you, smoke them and you'll die any one of a thousand nasty deaths. But there's no research published on the effect of all the dire warnings posted on packs, the perpetual reinforcement of the negative effects of tobacco, that must - sooner or later - in their own right - lead to an early demise as well. The warnings may well be as bad, may even be worse, than the product itself. No one considers this.
Every time he tells me how tired I look I think to see a doctor. I'm feeling fine, or tired, some days he's right, a stopped clock is right twice a day, but mostly I think it's just his way of making conversation, of expressing some empathy for a grueling schedule - not empathy so much as trying to get the most out of the service, pretend to be a good guy, I could ignore it as I do so many other things, but always I'm wondering if somehow this isn't some sort of negative Placebo, an incentive to be sick, develop a terminal illness simply as a result of an idea that lodged itself in your brain and gestated until it bore malevolent fruit....
There's not so much research on this - the negative placebo - no one in good health wants to volunteer for an experiment who's outcome can only be unpleasant, but I wonder as to the cumulative effect of negative beliefs or observations, lifestyle warnings, an opportunity there for some young and budding scientist or graduate student to write upon the Negative Placebo.
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