things what I writ

shoot the drummer

September 10, 2007
van morriso n 1
van morriso n 1 by Tim Caynes

he missed the click track. I didn’t notice, but kelly jones bit his head off and spat it into a bucket. it was all good natured head biting off though and after half way through the set everyone was laughing at the funniness of everything – here we are in the 1500 capacity UEA with the stereophonics, who start a real tour in november in stadiums with 25000 capacities but somehow they took a wrong turn on the way to nottingham or something and ended up here which if fine because you’ll never see them here again and very rarely see them outside of a stadium tour so here we are on a sound system obviously creaking at the seams as local boy in the photograph wails out and 1500 people or shouting back and you’ve never quite heard so much noise after a song here, well, for about 10 seconds, but this is norwich, so of course after that 10 seconds, notwithstanding the fact that this band is huge, there is a period of silence punctuated only by a bemused lead singer walking up to the mic and saying er, yeah, thanks very much, thinking he must have missed 5 minutes of his life somehow, and a couple of stoners in the pit shouting YEEEAH, GOORN THEN, PLAY SUFFUN!

they did play suffun for about an hour and a half and finished up with dakota which made some young girls collapse in front of me. I met up with a couple of friends there who had secured a place on the steps in front of the mixing desk, so they had a nice time. I spent the evening in the pit with my ears bleeding, as usual, so by the end I was stuck to the parquet watching the lights come on as everyone rushed to the car park. when I eventually got back to the megane scenic, someone had left a couple of stereophonics tickets on my windscreen, which I tried to work out all the way home. I was parked as far away as possible and was pretty much back to my car before anyone else in that part of the car park, so they must have been put there either by someone who had left early, or by someone who had found them on the floor near the scenic and thought I must of dropped them and so, like you do with gloves, they put them in the most visible place near to the scene of the find, which happened to be under my windscreen wipers. if the latter was true, 2 people didn’t see the stereophonics, and one of them had probably been beaten up by the other for being so stupid as to just put them in their back pocket so that they fell out when they got their mobile phone out to check for a text they hadn’t got. they missed a good show. I lost some ear cells apparently, as that’s what ringing means, I know that because I watched children of men the next day and when the cafe explodes, clive owen’s ears ring too and someone else tells him that means his ears are dying but I can’t remember who it was that said it probably his old girlfriend.

I’m from barcelona tomorrow night. I mean, that’s who I’m going to see. I’m not going to be from barcelona. obviously. or maybe not.< no, wednesday. what day is it. isn’t the football on then? oh.

cashback on apples

September 7, 2007

only just last month I queued up for hours at the checkout, hoping to get my new apples home to see just how good they were. notwithstanding the fact that they were outstandingly overpriced and I wasn’t even sure whether I liked them, I endured various assorted hunchbacks and dribblers who had wandered in off the high street looking for ginsters, pushing past them to stake my clam to a spot in the line. when I eventually got them home, they were almost as good as I had expected – sleek and shiny, responsive to the touch, perfectly designed, and sort of crunchy. I continued to enjoy them until they ran out of juice and I had to fall back on my old GM versions.

but passing the shop again the other day, I notice that the very same apples I bought are now on sale with a whopping 1 pound off. that’s nearly 30%. apparently, so many people bought the apples that they were able to streamline their production processes and now its much easier to get them to market. but what about me? I stood in line, bought them in good faith at full price, and even rubbed them against myself a bit, but now, any old luddite can walk in and get them a whole 1 pound cheaper. what price brand loyalty, eh?

I hear today that the shop owner is going to give me a voucher for 50p and an indescribable amount of clubcard points to keep me happy, but I’m not sure. Its not really the money that bothers me. I’m just not special anymore. also, I read in a magazine that I found in a bin that they’re going to be releasing new versions of the old pears they had, which make them exactly the same as the apples, except you don’t get any pips. I don’t know. I might even go to the market instead from now on. their apples are just as good. and they last longer.

drivel dependence

August 31, 2007
door 4
door 4 by Tim Caynes

whether its writing it or reading it there’s so much drivel about that its hard to know where to start but the thing is I rather like drivel especially well-crafted drivel with an audience of one. there’s only about 5 places on tinternet that I visit every day and at least 3 of those are drivel. but its good drivel. look, there’s a man in a red fleece talking into his mobile phone on loudspeaker and how stupid does that look when you’re just walking up earlham road trying to find a place to cross when your nose is pressed up against a sony ericsson. I occasionally have to do that myself because my n80 will sometimes refuse to allow any sound to come out of the handset which I’m sure is as a result of my phone being a computer which means I have to reboot it in order to fix the problem which is usually when I’m rebooting my other computer because coincidentally I can’t hear anything on my headset when I’m using my computer as a phone at which point I end up trying to use a real phone but I’ve forgotten how to dial real numbers with my real fingers and I can’t possibly actually use a phone unless its got some kind of attachment hanging out of it. see. drivel.

It may be appropriate to occasionally draft a block of prose which can be used to represent oneself in a suitable manner. The requirements for such an undertaking can be wide-ranging, but will, most often, be borne of a need to enlighten and inform. When there is a barrel to scrape, it is the lonely pursuit of the lofty scribe to enhance a reputation with meaningful discourse. but it’s usually drivel. it just tries a bit harder to make sense. which is what is were when it does get to go out but which is not the one while its staring blankly at toyotas surrounded by cones.

right. my nose is bleeding.

if I think hard enough

August 30, 2007

I don’t know why it happens – its like some reverse deja vu, where the world sees me coming – but things have been mysteriously aligned today, so that as I think of something, or do something, something else which is directly related suddenly appears from nowhere. Just as I’m trying to get an upgrade license for Adobe Creative Suite, I get an email telling me I can attend an Adobe Creative Suite event telling me how fabulous it is. Just as I’m stuffing a couple of pork pies in and listening to a report on the radio about teenage drunk-drivers, I flip over the page of the newspaper and there’s a story about teenage drunk drivers. Just as I’m about the make a credit transfer to the security company that manages my alarm system, somebody from the security company phones me up to remind me I need to make a credit transfer in order for them to continue to manage my alarm system.

I’m mildly freaked out by this happening multiple times today, but I think it finished as soon as its begun. For the last hour, I’ve been thinking about a mysterious stranger knocking on my door and handing me an enormous sum of money which will pay off my mortgage and take the family to America for a year, but, as yet, I hear no doorbell.

been caught stealing

August 23, 2007
tate 1
tate 1 by Tim Caynes

As tends to happen to me these days, the BBC appears to have watching over my shoulder and anticipating my next move. I just returned from a lovely fortnight in the Dordogne (notwithstanding the 8 hours caught up in ‘Operation Stack‘ at the channel tunnel terminal at Felixstowe), to find that I need to spend most of the week at my parent’s house down the road, amidst rather traumatic circumstances.

This is no problem, as they have a home office with broadband access, so I can take my Ferrari and clamber onto conference calls and collabsites whenever I can, to remain as productive as possible between pills, bowls, and ambulances. The first problem I encounter, however, is that there does not appear to be a broadband modem in sight. This might not be a bad thing, but I suspect it is. I turn on the ancient Time PC in the corner and it springs into life, after about 10 minutes, but hey presto, full internet access. Follow the cables. There on the wall is the ethernet port. Not a telephone point, but an ethernet port. Oh. Its cable.

First logical next step, I’m guessing, is to just stick an ethernet cable between the Ferrari and the wall. There, look, its trying to get me an IP address. Try again. Hmm. I ponder the probabilty of installing ntl: broadband software and drivers just to get the network up and running, obviously screwing up any other configuration I already have, and decide against it. I just won’t do any work this week. I’ll write a huge presentation offline or something. No. Not going to happen.

I try wireless. I don’t use wireless at home anymore because we’re linking it to headaches and we’ve turned off all transmitters in our house, but you never know, there might be an access point around here somewhere. Enabled. Hmm. 2wire675, secured. Nope. numer4_essex, secured. Nope. Hang on, HotelDownTheRoad, wide open. Bingo. Its about 100 metres down the road, so I have about .1 of a bar on the strength meter (which is true in real life, coincidentally), but its available and seems to be plenty fast enough for downloading adverts from pixmania and apple in my email. I’ll even be able to squeeze in a design update or 2.

And here is where the BBC come in. No sooner do I piggyback on the generosity of the local (private) hotel’s open wifi access, than they paste up an article proposing that I might indeed be arrested for trying to get some work done. Actually, they present all the arguements for and against freeloading on open wireless access points, but the hook of the article is about a man being arrested for deliberately freeloading in the street, like those people who sit in their car in your driveway downloading dvds onto 17 laptops in the boot, using your unsecured broadband hub. I’m pretty sure the hotel doesn’t even know that its wifi access is so accessible, or they’ve just found that handing out WEP keys to guests is more trouble than its worth (more likely). Either way, I’m not taking any significant bandwidth away from them and they probably wouldn’t even care. Still, I’ve closed the curtains and if the blue lights come round the corner I’m diving into the cellar and grabbing my laptop, 90’s hacker film style (think Johnny Lee Miller), just in case.

yes I’m at work

July 30, 2007

I know it doesn’t look like it. Your batteries haven’t recharged yet. You need to get up now. Yes you can have a shower after your breakfast. I’m not sure what you’re supposed to be doing today. I’ve got your clothes out, they’re in our bedroom. I don’t know, where are your sandals. Don’t go outside in those. Hello? Yes it’s Mr Caynes again. My exhaust still isn’t right. It’s rattling whenever we go uphill. Can you look at it this morning? What do you want? It’s downstairs in the back room. I think Grandma is taking you to Dragon Hall. No, I’m not coming. I know, but I have to work. They’ll need a drink and a biscuit. Have you got the guineas out? I don’t think it will rain. Hello, it’s Mr Caynes. I’d like to add European Breakdown Cover. Is it cheaper if I get that online? I’ve got it right in front of me. Hello? It’s Mr Caynes. I’ve got an appointment with James this morning, but I’m afraid I can’t make it. I don’t know. I’ll have to arrange it when we get back from France. You need to find some trousers. No, they’re shorts. Trousers. Well, it might rain, yes. Hello, it’s me. What was I supposed to remember to do today. Alright. Alright. Well, I’ve just got loads of other things to remember that’s all, it’s ok to forget someth… What? No, I don’t know where your tamagotchi is. It’s yours, you’re supposed to look after it. Well, if it’s in the back of the car, you’ll have to wait. have you written that letter to Peter? What do you mean it’s too hard? When I was your age… No, I can’t ‘do something’. Shut the door. She’s at work. I don’t know, about teatime I suppose. Yes, and Wednesday. Can you close the door? I don’t know, ask Grandma. Hello? Yes, you fixed it last week, but it’s still rattling. Yes? Can you do that yourself? If you need shower gel or shampoo or anything, you know where it is, right? What are the others doing? You two, don’t do that, you’ll break your wrist. No, just put the skates by the cellar door. Well, it’s nice outside, why don’t you play in the garden for a while? What do you mean, boring? Boring? When I was your age I… You three, it’s lunchtime. Yes, now. Cheese or ham? Well, that’s it, cheese or ham. No. Cheese or ham. Cheese or ham. Right. I have to back upstairs now, are you going to go out this afternoon? Ok, well, be good. Hello? Yes, it’s Tim Caynes. Yes, I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to get an intern into the building but the processes I have to go through are about as obvious to me as pan’s labyrinth so I’m just looking for some direction please. No I haven’t updated the playbook yet. What designs? I didn’t think we were doing that this release. Hello! did you have a nice time? No, your batteries still aren’t charge d up. Yes, they take a long time. No, nobody called. She’ll be back about teatime. Have you had a drink? Oh, hi. No, I’ve been working. About two hours. What present? I didn’t know anything about getting a present. Well, no, I haven’t. I’ve been at work. I know it’s tomorrow. Hang on. Go and ask Grandma. Well, find it yourself then. Hang on. I’ll have to go out and get it tomorrow. IT’LL HAVE TO BE LATE THEN. When did you last have it? Well, I’m afraid I really don’t know then. Have another look. Come on, it doesn’t matter, it’ll turn up. How about if I come down for a while and we do something. There, that’s great! Right, I have to go upstairs again now. Well, I did say. I have to go on a call now, so I’ll be back in about an hour. Could you get the dinner started. I’m not sure. There’s fish in the fridge, so I guess, yes, use those potatoes. Mash. The dishes are in there. That cupboard. Sorry, I have to go. No, that cupboard. What? What’s happened to your knee? Show me. I’m sure he didn’t mean to knock you over. Look, take this tea towel and hold it there until it stops. I’ve got to go. Tell Grandma where the first aid is. Right, I’ve got to go. Hello? It’s Tim. Sorry I’m a bit late, I was, um, on another call. Yeah, I’ve been looking at that all day, but I haven’t really managed to work it out. What do you think? Yeah, I know. Ha ha. You know what it’s like working from home. Sometimes you just work too hard, right? I should take more breaks.

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