The Paternal Optimist

Corrigendum

Mrs MOP would like it to be known that she did not attend the Footlights show with Young Mr H and the Boy Wonder last Friday. Moreover, she has a first-class alibi - she was "partying the night away at a friend's 50th in Kensington Place" - which Mr MOP, apparently, is more than ready to corroborate.

The PO therefore deduces that it was the Mother Superior who chortled at the Niceties proposed by those people from The Other Place.

As to the traffic-directing, Babycham-chugging, quad-biking high jinks indulged in by Young Ms H and her sidekick Orange following the inauguration (sic) of the vicar, the PO prefers to draw a discreet veil over them.

The Rules of the PO

A gentle slap on the wrist for Missy, who broke both rules one AND two of the Paternal Optimist yesterday evening by referring to the BW by his real name in a comment (and no, don't bother looking now - I've already changed it). Busty blonde, Missy, 35 (real name Hilda Higginbotham), a familiar face in the livelier late-night spots of Bognor Regis, is not the first to blunder in this fashion, but she is the first to do so for some time. The PO trusts it will not happen again.

In the meantime, for anyone in any doubt about the 8 rules of the PO, here is a quick recap :

1. You do not use real names when addressing the PO.
2. You DO NOT use real names when addressing the PO.
3. If someone says "stop" or goes limp, you're on the wrong site. You should probably be here.
4. Only one PO and one BW on this site.
5. One post at a time.
6. No thongs, no flip-flops.
7. Posts will go on as long as they have to.
8. If this is your first visit to the PO, you HAVE to leave a comment.

And remember, children : the Paternal Optimist is always right.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes....

I almost called this post 25 Things That Didn't Exist (Or At Least Were Not Yet In Common Use) When The Paternal Optimist Was The Same Age The Boy Wonder Is Now, but that would, of course, have been too long.

Still, it's interesting, so soon after my recent comments about the gadgetry now at the BW's disposal, to read the list below, selected by the Lemelson-MIT program in the US, of 25 non-medically related technological innovations that have become widely used since 1980, are readily recognizable by most [people], have had a direct and perceptible impact on our everyday lives, and/or could dramatically affect our lives in the future.

1. Internet
2.  Mobile phone
3.  PC
4.  Fiber optics (they're everywhere, in high-speed phone lines, cables, etc.)
5.  E-mail
6.  GPS (I have one in my car, but I only put it on when I'm lonely and want some company - what I really want is a GPS like the one on the Playstation Rally Driving game that barks things like "Look where you're going !" and "What are you doing ?")
7. Portable computer
8.  Memory storage disc (that's CDs and DVDs to you and me)
9.  Digital camera
10.  Radio frequency ID tag (used to track delivery of goods)
11. MEMS (microelectromechanical system - there's almost certainly one in the Mother Superior's car, now she's replaced that old banger she used to have)
12. DNA fingerprinting (don't think the BW's life of crime has reached that level yet)
13. Air bag (don't think the BW has actually used one yet)
14. ATM (that's those holes in the wall where the PO and the Mother Superior get their unlimited supplies of cash from)
15. Advanced battery (e.g.the nickel-metal hydride and lithium-ion batteries that make mobile phones last longer when we charge them)
16. Hybrid car
17. OLED (organic light-emitting diodes, a key component of digital cameras, apparently)
18. Display panel (better known as a plasma-screen TV - it can only be a matter of time before the PO cracks)
19. HDTV (the kind of TV you can record stuff on, with pause functions, etc. because it has a hard disk on which to save - so ditto)
20. Space shuttle
21. Nanotechnology (it's everywhere - cars are full of it)
22. Flash memory (another key component of digital cameras)
23. Voice mail (for all those messages the PO leaves when the BW is out playing in orchestras, having piano lessons or off on swash-buckling adventures)
24. Modern hearing aid (the rest of us may sometimes wonder whether the BW is in need of one, but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being)
25. Short Range, High Frequency Radio (also known as Wi-Fi)
    

(Incidentally, I have been presumptuous enough to guess the number one, which will not officially be announced until tonight, around two o'clock in the morning Geneva time).

The items on the list appearing in this colour are those which I think it can safely be said have some sort of relevance or application in the Boy Wonder's life today. Isn't it hard to imagine what life would be like without them ? And yet when I was an eleven-year-old many of them did not even feature in our fantasies.

Now here's a challenge for the BW, and any other readers - can you come up with three things not on this list, but which you think will feature on a list in, say, ten years' time ?

PS If the Boy Wonder doesn't recognise the reference in the title to this post, could the Mother Superior please educate him ?

Thus Perish the Enemies of the Republic

Geneva ground to a standstill this afternoon, as it does once a year, for the 27th Course de l'Escalade, the city's annual fun run, in which thousands of fancy-dressed people participated - everything ranging from the inevitable several hundred-and-one dalmatians, via clowns and angels and prisoners and Mickey Mice and Tiggers and bees and Charlie Chaplins, to a man who skied the whole course (which is not only very hilly, but also run entirely on roads completely devoid of snow).

There is also a race for professional and serious amateur runners. The PO did not enter this year, despite at one time (many, many years ago) fancying himself as a bit of a cross-country and long-distance specialist - yet another area, incidentally, in which his modest achievements will no doubt soon be comprehensively surpassed by the Boy Wonder, who has already distinguished himself in cross-country running at Hogwarts.

The Course de l'Escalade traditionally takes place the Saturday before the festival of the Escalade itself, which, as any fule know, is a celebration of the failed attempt by the Duke of Savoy to take the town by surprise during the night of December 11th and 12th, 1602 : if you like, it is the Genevois Guy Fawkes' Night (with a bit of Hallowe'en mixed in).

Legend has it that the Duke of Savoy's forces collected together in Plainpalais - where the main office building of the PO's wonderful employers now stands - before launching an attempted attack on the town. To do so, they needed to climb the city walls (escalade = climb), which they began to do, using bundles of brush and ladders.

The most reliable accounts of what happened next say that a guard atop the city walls saw a shadow and was able to let off a shot in time to rouse the citizens, who successfully repelled the 2000 strong army for the loss of only 18 Genevois lives.

Local legend, however, is far more romantic. For example, it has it that a certain Mère Royaume, a mother of fourteen children (and, by the by, not even a native of Geneva - she was a huguenot from Lyon), was cooking a (presumably very large) vegetable soup in a big cauldron known as a marmite (which has nothing to do with the PO's preferred condiment). When she realized that the city was being attacked, she tipped her pot of boiling soup on one of the Savoyard agressors who were scaling the walls below her window - an act that has come to symbolise the courage of the plucky Genevois and is at the heart of the traditional celebrations every year.

So, for the next week we will be tucking into chocolate marmites filled with marzipan vegetables; children will be coming into restaurants, giving raucously out-of-tune renditions of the traditional Escalade song (though not usually all 68 verses, thank goodness - verses 1, 2, 4 and 68 together now constitute the anthem of the republic and canton of Geneva) and threatening to repeat the exercise indefinitely until we give them a donation to their marmite fund; copious quantities of mulled wine will be consumed; and next Sunday there will be a grand procession in historical costume through the town (there are some splendid photos here).

Oh, and next Friday, the last working day before the Escalade, a large chocolate marmite will be ceremoniously smashed open in the office - traditionally by the youngest member of staff (last year it was De This who did the honours, which added a certain irony to the occasion, as she is not Genevoise, not even Swiss, but French) - using a real sword, to the words Ainsi périssent les ennemis de la République ! (Thus perish the enemies of the Republic of Geneva !).

A Little Bit Of Moniker In My Life

Well, it’s pretty much all clear to me.

You see, it’s like this : the Paternal Optimist, is, well, obviously, the father of the Boy Wonder. The PO’s parents are the Principal and the Recluse. And the PO’s sister is Missy, who is engaged to be married to the Surfer Dude. Collectively these two are known as the Lovebirds. Whenever three or more of the PO, the BW, the Principal, the Recluse, Missy and the Surfer Dude are gathered together in one place, we’re dealing with that shape-shifting collective entity known as the Usual Suspects.

Pretty simple so far, really.

Now, the Boy Wonder lives with his mother, the Mother Superior, the Laughing Buddha, and his (that is the BW’s, not the LB’s) as-yet-one-hundred-percent-moniker-free sister and brother, Schmoo. The Mother Superior’s mother (the BW’s grandmother) is the Hip Granny, and she’s engaged to be married to Gentleman Jim. The Boy Wonder’s uncles, aunts, cousins and other assorted real and virtual relatives on this side of the family have yet to appear on this blog, and therefore remain, for the time being at least, unbesmirched by monikers, appropriate or otherwise.

The Principal’s brother (that is the PO’s uncle, and the BW’s great-uncle) is the Mad Professor, who is married to My Favourite Aunt, and they have three kids : the Guitar Hero (Cousin T), the Gameboy (Cousin S) and the Medic (Cousin L). And since they all live in the US of A, they are known, with startling originality, as Our American Cousins.

The Fool on the Hill and the Brown-Eyed Girl are related neither to each other, nor to any of the above named persons. Miscellaneous Other Parent and Young Mr Hoskins are related to each other, but, happily for them, not to anyone else identified here.

Any questions, see me at the end of the lesson.

Hallowe'en Postscript

I'm not sure if this is really the kind of thing I should be posting on a site one of the primary objectives of which is to communicate with the eleven-year-old Boy Wonder, but these are so funny - and besides, there is already a link to the home of the 30-Second Bunnies Theatre Troupe somewhere down the right hand side of this page, so the more technologically adept amongst you might eventually have found them for yourselves (though they're not available there yet)...

Fresh from the Hare-Raising Halloween Marathon, here, for your delectation and delight, the 30-Second Bunnies Theatre Troupe proudly re-enacts : Freddy vs. Jason , Scream, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Enjoy.

Je vous fais une farce ou vous payez la tournée

I just got trick-or-treated for the first time in seven years living in Switzerland ! The only problem was that when I opened my front door, the young gentleman standing there - in a sheet into which two holes had been hastily cut a few minutes before his appearance on my doorstep, I suspect - did not know what to say !

T'as pas quelque chose à dire ? asked his father, standing behind him, providing moral support and gamely trying to keep a set of plastic fangs in his mouth as he spoke.

Silence.

Trick or treat, par exemple ? quoth the PO.

Silence.

Oui, c'est ça, replied the father eventually. Mais on ne sait pas comment le dire en français.

Once I had seen the nervous ghost off on his way with a couple of chocolate madeleines - fortunately, I had not eaten the whole packet in one sitting as is my usual Sunday wont - I dashed naturally straight to Google for illumination. And sure enough, I was directed straightaway to this site, which provides all of the seasonal vocabulary you could wish for - other than a cast-iron equivalent of trick or treat.

By the way, the Boy Wonder had better bone up on all this - there'll be a test when I see him next week.

De This and von That

I mentioned the other day, as I was proposing to put together some sort of genealogical chart to help the readers of this blog to understand who is being referred to how, not to mention how the various whos are related to each other (if at all), that I was most grateful to have a small extended family of relatively humble origins.

My good fortune appears even greater if I consider what might have been, had circumstances been different - had I been born, for example, into one of the families of two of the members of my team at work.

A rose by any other name

When you launch a new blog, and more particularly when you decide to create an intimate blog whose essential purpose is not to communicate to an unlimited global audience, but rather a restricted group of friends and relations, certain decisions must be taken.

Some decisions can wait - they can be addressed on a suck it and see basis, at least as long as the blog remains of a manageable size, working on the principle that if it is necessary to change tack it's relatively easy to do so. For example, thanks to the wonder of tools such as Typepad, most layout and many design features can be tweaked and modified pretty much at the blogger's whim. Similarly, if that witty title for a posting, a blogroll or a category doesn't come swiftly to mind, then hell, you can just go with something totally bland at first, then go back and change it later when inspiration suddenly strikes. This is the approach I have adopted, in case you were wondering.

A bit like the Queen, really

The more observant amongst you will have noticed that yesterday's post - officially The First Post on this blog - was dated September 1st. And that this post is dated September 2nd - well, obviously, because otherwise I wouldn't have called yesterday's post "yesterday's post".