I know it’s the festive period and these folks must be stretched a bit .. but here are a breed of drivers who are in charge of a large white van on a mission to nark off everyone around them .. and then (and I just – yet again!? – had some dunce banging frantically on my door and window, despite me having a perfectly acceptable doorbell) arrive at your door (continuously talking in a foreign language on a mobile phone tucked into their neck) .. prodding some gizmo in your face to sign, without so much as a good morning.

Then looking surprised when you refuse the package.

Sorry pal .. but if you took a moment to just stop talking to your mate in goodness knows where, you might well have noticed I live 12 doors away from the person to whom the package is addressed, I don’t know him and I certainly am not taking his package thanks all the same.

If they concentrate on their driving like they concentrate on their delivering .. keep well clear everyone // they are accidents waiting to happen.

for goodness sake !

There are some really interesting jobs floating about at the moment and upon deciding to apply for a couple and then being asked for examples of work, I discover to my horror that my portfolio was last updated in 2007 !  Well .. I’ve been actually busy doing stuff .. and had no reason to update it particularly.

Well, now let that be a lesson to us all .. this is proving to be a bit of an error on my part (did someone say I was perfect .. no? .. no, didn’t think so!) as 4 or 5 years worth of design work is quite something to find when over the period you have rebuilt computers, had hard drives fail, switched online ‘cloud’ storage suppliers and all ..

just where is it all .. ? .. Feels like I’m searching for the computer equivalent of a digital needle in a few terrabytes of virtual haystacks then.

that’ll teach me ..! there’s a ton of really amazing stuff .. erm .. somewhere .. honest! So giz-a-job Guv’  in the meantime, I shall continue searching .. oh what fun.

Not, it must be said, to members of the fairer sex who by and large tend to regard me with thinly veiled disgust or at best a form of sad pity.  My incredibly beautiful wife missed her chance to run more than10 years ago and I’ve been holding on tightly there in case she realises her mistake.

My body, it seems, is a positive temple of worship to the insect community – especially those nasty little blighters who enjoy a good nibble around midnight on some freshly prepared, succulent and tender exposed man-skin.  Currently I’m on holiday (of the kind seen on ‘DIY nightmare’ TV programmes) at our French pile of rubble and since our arrival a growing number of incredibly irritating and itchy bites have appeared on shoulders, arms and legs.  These turn to red blotches like scarlet birthmarks all over .. I’m not pretty stripped off at the best of times, but now I really am quite a sight!

No amount of anti-mosquito cream or anti-bite sprays (which I have been liberally covering myself in each evening before retiring) is making a blind bit of difference .. if anything I am beginning to seriously wonder if it is in fact turning me into a positively irresistible feast for the nearby insect fraternity.  I’m probably high on the list of ‘best places to dine’ in Southern France in the insects’ Yellow Pages.

My dear wife and three lovely girls have been entirely spared sharing in this unpleasantness, clearly by my selfless sacrifice.

So, if you fancy a summer holiday completely free of insect bites time just take a Dave and let him spare you all the problems.  I can assure you I work better than any cream or spray you’ll ever find.

Sunny day in Berlin

A couple of weekends ago I spend five days in Berlin, filming an employee event for Sony Europe. The ‘final’ edit was sent to the client last night for approval. My client had told me that Berlin was a great place (he’d been there lots of times, first for me) and he was bang on the money. What a great European City .. brilliant place to discover on foot.

We ran around like madmen filming all sorts of stuff for the event we were covering in 32 degrees plus (gasp!). A boat trip was arranged (part of the gig we were covering) and was a great way to see Berlin and we all trooped off to Bar 25 (apparently the most trendy place to go in Berlin) for an evening meal – the best steak I have ever had, though a little hurried as I was still filming – and a presentation to wind up the weekend.

Everyone we met were incredibly friendly and when I tried to destroy the German language they tried hard to understand what on earth I was trying to say .. and usually flipped seamlessly into perfect English.

I’d love to go back soon!

Just prior to Christmas, I found myself in Reading, Berkshire.  I headed off to a client of mine with a journey of about 40 minutes ahead of me.  A successful and pleasant meeting with a long-term client for a couple of hours, and then I head back to my original location as snow begins to fall.

After 20 minutes, I start getting close to Reading again and discover to my dismay that snow has in fact been falling heavily; the roads are white over, cars are gridlocked and the next (theoretically 2o minutes) of my journey takes me a further 7 hours, before I finally have to abandon the car entirely and walk through drifting snow for another two hours to get home .. mobile phone network is virtually inaccessible (so many people calling home to warn of late arrival perhaps), roads are blocked, cars are abandoned all around .. Reading has ground to a complete halt.

Amidst all of this chaos I experienced a startling social shift in those around me.

Now, to briefly put this in context .. I am originally from the Midlands, studied in Nottingham and for some years had a lovely girlfriend from Pontefract .. so I have quite a lot of experience of the ‘Northern’ social attitude.  By and large I have always found it to be open, welcoming and friendly, so when my family shifted to the South, it was a bit of a culture shock (ALERT – massive generalisation arriving up ahead).  Southerns are noticeably colder, suspicious and more insular ~ talk unprompted to a complete stranger in a street in Reading and you are likely to be considered a dangerous loony and uncomfortably avoided … or more simply just knifed and robbed.

Bring on a spot (a spot!?) of snow and the total traffic chaos it caused however .. and this changed beyond belief.  Something about the ‘Dunkerque’ spirit clearly remains in the British psychology and it was a quite wonderful thing to behold.  People were happily chatting out of the car windows to folks equally stuck in the traffic heading in the opposite direction, Churches had opened up to provide warm sancturies and (in one area I found myself anyway) bringing flasks of steaming coffee and warmed minced pies along the lines of immobile traffic to cheer us all up.  Folks with 4×4′s were helping tow others without 4×4′s up steep icy roads which would have otherwise proved impossible for them .. bizarrely, it was quite emotional to witness - there was no anger, no furious car horns or gesticulations of frustration .. instead, a simple quietness descended with the flakes.  The people of Reading and those making an ill-timed visit to the town became as friendly and supportive a bunch as you could ever hope to encounter.

It was really quite wonderful.

My wallet vanished without trace – everyone strenuously denied responsibility of course .. so I was left wondering where on earth I’d left it: maybe it had fallen from a pocket? ..  had I left it in the local shop after stocking up on my five (bottles) a day?  I pulled the cars apart, and looked everywhere I could think of in the house (looking in the same places several times despite knowing for sure I’d already checked that very same spot .. am I the only person who does that? ~ I’m seriously beginning to wonder if it’s some early sign of a mental disorder?).

After a couple of days of an increasing level of dread – as the thing had not appeared in any of the places I normally use to park my bits and bobs – there was nothing for it but to call everyone and cancel all the cards and get replacements enroute tout suite mes amis.

So I am now patiently waiting for these replacements to drop onto the welcome mat .. chez nous.

Emilie (my littlest one) was playing near the piano last night .. and with relish started waving around – to an assembled Grandparent’y thing that was going on - well guess – (I was upstairs at the time, making myself look beautiful in the bathroom mirror.  A task, I must admit, which had thus far taken some considerable time without any positive effect). 

yep .. from one of many baskets of  playthings (made in the ROC) nestled under the piano, was extracted ‘Daddy’s’ black wallet.  Innocently rediscovered ~ after having been found, played with and then totally forgotten, I suspect, some days before.

This now contains absolutely nothing of worth, as everything it contains has been cancelled, and now I look at it, it is a bit tatty anyway .. so I might treat myself for Christmas.

Well .. at least I would if I get my new cards before then anyway – as it stands right now nobody is getting a present this year!

Pete’s a good bloke to have around .. enthusiastic and energetic, focussed and far-sighted.  I am surprised he talks to me at all.

So, after a lot of prodding by Pete, I have taken my first tentative steps aboard this crazy express train .. well, with stuff like this .. you may have noticed.  This morning I came across a video .. if this doesn’t help convince you Pete is right .. well .. you might as well go back to cave painting.  The conversation revolution is here comrades - every business (large or small) needs to jump aboard this train too .. no .. seriously! .. because if they’re not properly engaged with their customers they are most certainly going to fail.   

As Pete has told me more than once .. “customer service is not a department”.  I’m getting it Pete .. I’m getting it ..

So,  here’s an example of how one American-type-chap used the power of the internet to voice his disquiet with customer service.  It’s a bit American, but nevertheless quite funny and a useful lesson.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k32uvO-6TFI&feature=player_embedded

enjoy ..

 .. a pal of mine sends me an email from facebook .. I read the link carefully and it appears to be from facebook (not facebook.com.xyz.ru) and so I click the link. 

MISTAKE!

Now I am, by nature,  a cautious link-clicker and I have some serious antivirus stuff on everything connected to the web .. because I just know the chaos it would cause if my stuff got infected.  Suddenly my antivirus stuff lights up like a christmas tree (how festive), steam spurts from overhead pipes, rotating yellow lights spin and sirens sound (well they don’t, but you probably get the idea).  I delete the email, close down the browsers .. but all is for naught, some little nasty has gotten through.

From then on, I start getting little pop up windows appearing unprompted .. and my antivirus starts intercepting goodness knows what.  Bugger!   I run a full, deep, system scan … it finds nothing of concern (but these little pop ups keep popping up).  Nothing for it (I think) I’ll run a system restore from a few days ago .. that might do the trick.

Instead of fixing the problem, or at worst doing nothing, this appears in fact to make things hugely worse .. as the system restore reboots the computer as expected, but now Windows ‘fails to start’.  Terrific!  Nothing I do can persuade Vista to start up .. and I go around in circles for half an hour getting more and more panicky.  After all, I have only three hours to complete a 3D animation, reposed, fully lit and cameras repositioned and animated, then rendered and then passed into Flash for my most important client and all the construction files are on THIS computer – and I don’t think the folder backup has run yet, there is no full second copy I can access from the other machines on the network andthe online 0ff-site doesn’t back up until the evening (paranoid?.. moi?).  I see a few hours of pain and panic ahead.

Why do these b*****ds think this is a fun thing to do? Beats me .. beat them if I could get hold of the miserable little sods that caused this .. violence needs to wait until some future point however, as I have an urgent, unmissable deadline and now a very dead computer.

Luckily (and I cannot fully describe the relief that I felt, but let’s say it was significant) Windows (bless you Bill) very cleverly tells me to insert the original operating system disk (which, for once, I actually find quickly .. I know, I amazed myself!), once inserted .. after two attempts anyway .. repairs the system and removes all traces of whatever had found it’s way onboard.

So three hours later, the client receives their completed animation, they are happy, I am happy .. the world is once more a serene oasis of calm.

So a word of warning .. if anyone sends you an email entitled ‘ha-ha-ha’ or ‘ho-ho-ho’ – even if it’s from a friend .. delete it immediately.

despite the title .. it is not bloody funny!

I have at least two bank accounts which require a ‘card reader’ .. this (if you haven’t experienced the pleasure of such devices) is something akin to a small calculator into which you slide your debit or authorisation card, tap in your PIN number and receive some random (or most probably not) number which you then use to access you bank accounts.

In theory, albeit a bit of a long winded way of accessing your accounts, I can see this is a REALLY clever idea, which requires (so far as I can see) you to actually have both your card AND your PIN number to actually get to your money (or more likely to see the extent of your increasingly worrying levels of debt).

ahh … what happens therefore, when you misplace your wallet?

this is not an option ..

you obviously wait a few days, hoping the little black thing will appear .. eventually, having ripped the house and cars apart and calling as many folks you can remember you have visited recently etc., you come to the conclusion that, wherever the damned thing is, you are unlikely to find it anytime soon .. so now have the FUN ahead of you to call your various banks, supermarket loyalty card doodahs, DVLA etc., to ask for card cancellation and replacement (incidentally - as it turned out – Halifax were first out of the blocks, so they get my vote).

but what about (and as it’s close to the end of the month, mortgage payments etc., are all about to happen of course)  accessing your accounts to ensure the various numbers are all primed and ready in the right place?

forget it .. it’s all about to get very painful.

If you have your card reader .. lovely .. you have your PIN, you have your account details .. but can you actually operate your bank accounts?

nope .. you, my friend, are entirely stuffed unless you have that card.

So technology, for once, is the cause of pain and trouble ahead .. and, it seems, there is virtually no way around the abscence of those important bendy plastic things.

damn it !

Despite my iron-will therefore, I poured myself a fat glass of wine on my return home .. and as I was ‘facebooking’ (as you do) and catching up generally with everything that has passed me by these last few days on the social side, I dug into the bag.

Once past the horrid chocolate (sorry Mum, a year or more past the sell-by date does has to be taken into consideration sometimes), I was reminded how much I used to love these things as a kid.  Clearly.. as a small child, alchohol was one of those hidden mysteries which only ‘grown-ups’ accessed (quite rightly perhaps) .. and a chocolate-liqueur was one of those festive offerings which the adults around me clearly didn’t consider quite so ’off-limits’ to a small child (that’s not to say Mamma didn’t pass me brimming glasses of Advocaat at Christmas .. but that’s not booze .. is it!?).

Now as an adult, just how totally inadequate are these diddly little things? .. hardly worth the bother of getting chocolate all over your face really .. I reckon there would be a market for a serious box, where each beautifully crafted nugget of high-quality super-dense chocolate was surrounding at least a double pub-measure of undiluted liquor.

Saves on the washing up too… now where’s that big bottle of brandy? .. ahh .. to hell with the diet.