Admissions of an electronic hoarder

According to yesterday's news, UNESCO designates 2019 as the International Year of the Periodic Table of Elements. It's 150 years since Russian scientist Dimitri Mendeleev discovered the  essential relationship between the natural elements, and mapped this systematically. On the back of this, there was a feature about the need to re-cycle redundant electronic goods to recover their rare earth component elements, as all digital devices make use of some of these. As earth's supply of the essentials is finite, there's a risk of industry running out of them. Scarcity ensures price rises, and competition to control remaining un-mined resources. Indeed, the persistent chronic state of war in the Congo is due to the territory being rich in strategic minerals.

This prodded me into discovering a company in Newport Road called SFX Tech which re-purposes usable computers and recycles the components in the rest, and arranged to deliver all this kit there tomorrow. The next thing was to find and sort kit I no longer use, which I've kept over the years 'just in case'. Thanks to Linux, much of my old kit works when fired up, even if it's too slow and outdated to be of use for the majority of today's purposes. I retrieved three laptops, one from 1998, one to 2004 and one to 2009, also three old Nokia phones, two modems, and a couple of personal digital organisers,  and a Nexus tablet, with broken USB port, now unchargeable, plus a variet of chargers and cables, British and European. Prior to the 1998 laptop, I had two others. A luggable PC I sold in 1991, to part fund the purchase of my first real laptop in 1992. This I finally got rid of in 2010.

I bought my first Amstrad computer in 1984, the first of four. Then there were four Windows desktop PCs as well, all disposed over the years as more capable kit became affordable. I wasn't an early tech adopter, waiting until newish kit was available at a discount, watching the retail market regularly. I guess I was never as attached to these devices as I was to the portable ones, having held on to the latter so long. I enjoyed having kit I could take with me on my travels, and the selection of wireless network plug-in cards and dongles added into the throwaway bag bears witness to this. 

All this changed when affordable smartphones came on the market. It's amazing to think how much more powerful and capable these are than all previous mobile devices. I think I've passed on a couple of smartphones after upgrading, but there are two spares in the house 'just in case'. I still have my work Blackberry and my personal Samsung Galaxy. Once CBS is wound up, I'll be down to one phone for the first time in seven years.

Well, there's less electronic junk taking up space in the house now, and more to go eventually, as the process of simplifying life advances with age. Having seen what trouble was caused after his demise due to my brother in law Geoff's accumulation of 'interesting stuff' acquired from decades of car boot sales, I'd feel better if I could minimise what remains of my acquisitions to 'really useful up to date stuff' once I'm headed for the Pearly Gates. 

  

  

Settling in

First, time to get acquainted with the chaplain's office again. A new HP Windows 10 computer, set up with an old school user interface. Getting started with wi-fi on my various devices proved to be a nightmare case of deja-vu. The 20 digit password seemed familiar from last time. My Blackberry just remembered it, the Samsung phone I was using here last time had amnesia. The Nexus wasn't with me last time, so it had to be entered manually, but wouldn't take. Eventually I came across an information page about office passwords, which showed that the 'O' was really a zero. I had quite forgotten this annoying little tripwire. The lettering on the underside of the Thomson router is so small it's impossible to distinguish between an 'O' and a zero. Fancy me forgetting! Will I remember next time? 

Getting the Chromebook online, once I'd realised the problem, was quick and simple. I could then continue with the sermon preparation I began a couple of days ago. The completed file transferred to the Windows 10 machine for printing, but the Epson SX130 printer didn't work, complaining of both paper jam and ink cartridges either empty or not authenticated. Thankfully, Paul agreed to print the file for me for Vinaros, also Jenny for L'Ampolla, so I dind't need to go out in the extreme heat of day and hunt for a print shop, even before I'd done my weekend shopping.

Eventually, however, I did walk just up the road to the Spar convenience store, to get fruit and veg and a few other things, to allow me to make a meal that would do for Saturday and Sunday, thus avoiding the task of cooking Sunday lunch as soon as I returned from taking services. I really feel I have arrived when I sit down to a proper cooked meal that I've made in a new place.

Early evening I walked into the town along the coast path and the promenade, all the way down to the port before turning around. I was saddened to see the closed and still empty shop which had housed the chaplaincy's drop-in and worship centre. It had become no longer affordable, as custom for the shop dropped. Truth to tell, over the past few years, many first generation British settlers in this part of the world have slowly returned home, to be supplanted by French people, always high in the visitor demographic, but more now perhaps wanting to settle? Nothing stays the same for long. It's far too early to tell what impact the brexit result will have on UK expatriate communities. Tomorrow there's a Bishops' letter to be read out concerning the crisis.

After supper, it was time to get to grips with the telly, and the Skybox providing UK programmes. So many remote control devices to juggle with. There was another two hour Swedish crime drama on BBC Four, about a medical hypnotist working with the police on solving a crime. Interesting, if wee bit far fetched.

    

TV Shopping in Wandsworth

Up at the crack of dawn for breakfast and a walk to the bus station for the seven thirty coach to London. Another beautiful clear day, making the view of the passing countryside vibrant with colour and contrast. In a field outside Bristol I caught sight of a lone deer grazing in a field.

While I travelled, I received an email on my Blackberry from David McKenna, a dancer colleague of Kath's whom we've known for many years. He's a brilliant creative artistic entrepreneur who's done some ground breaking performance work with adolescent boys, and with male prisoners. The videos of his work I find inspirational. I wish I could get to see live performances of his more often. 

Anyway, since Monday, he and I have been discussing a project proposal of his by email. He's fascinated with the potential of digital media to extend into a performance environment what dancers communicate through their physical actions, expressing in fresh ways their visions, ideas, feelings, experiences. He's intrigued with abandoned and ruined church buildings, and what remains of that sense of sacred space and presence once believers have forsaken them. A small group of dancers want to work investigating a place to discover how their use of technology can help them articulate any remaining sense of the sacred, and what this means for them as secular artists with little religious background.

It's a privilege to be asked to be a sounding board as well as provide information and ideas for further investigation. Finding a suitable useable place in the Midlands and getting permission to take it over for a month or so won't be an easy task, but here's an opportunity for those who can facilitate, and/or do the theological reflection to engage in some real creative dialogue with modern experimental performing artists. This project really has me buzzing.

June met me at Victoria Station and we took a train to Clapham Junction to get a bus to Hammersmith to visit Currys PC World to buy her a new television, and a new digital camera into the bargain. It looked identical to the Cardiff store, so navigating to the right place in the vast cavern of a store presented no hassles. She settled for the smallest Samsung in the shop 22" screen, and the cheapest Sony Cybershot to replace her existing one whose on/off button has become unpredictable after four years of use. We returned to her flat for lunch, then I set up the camera and the telly, and moved her old telly into a back room and set that up. It all worked, so I left her, to go and catch the seven o'clock Cardiff bus, delighted by her new acquisitions.

The journey home under clear skies into the setting sun was also tranquil and beautiful, with the colours in the landscape slowly changing. The sun had just left the horizon by the time we reached the Severn Bridge and the twilight brought touches of purple and silver to the greens and grey of the estuary. Back in the house be quarter to eleven, mission accomplished.

Another techie day

What a relief to wake up early and find that it's going to be a blue skies day! I spent much of the morning tucked away in my little office at home installing my new HP multi-function printer/scanner on both Windows and Linux Mint partitions. The HP printer Linux software installation required far less effort than previous piece of hardware. Things have improved and the equipment works quite well, though not quite as smmothly as the Windows installation - which was slower than I'd expected. Still, job done, and now I can take the old  Samsung printer/scanner and use it in the office in College, to saving having to descend two long flights of stairs to use the network printer and scanner.

I went into College to check if any of my tutor group students were back, bumped into Phil, and stopped for lunch before going in to the office. Ashley had lost his phone and was in the throes of arranging to have it blocked and ordering a new one. I took charge of the phone which the lost one replaced to see if I could extract the contact data from it, as no proper up to date back up had been done. Oh yes, it's easy to feel superior if you're good at managing these routines, but our office is so busy we don't always get the down time.

When we make time to work on these matters, the software programs are slow, and choosy about what they'll let you do, including parting with essentials. My office laptop now has Blackberry, HTC and Samsung software installed on it, and none of these packages with their respective hardware give the end user control needed. The excuse is to protect careless idiots from destroying their data, but you can't always get at the stuff you really need most, and keeping synchronisation under control is also a hassle. It can lead to data loss rather than preservation.

It was seven by the time I got home, after my fruitless efforts at data transfer. After supper I tucked into my second Inspector Montalbano novel of the week, and read until I started to nod off.

I was there - Olympic torch Cardiff

I went into the office after lunch, but as there wasn't much going on, I left early for home and got caught up in crowds gathering the welcome the arrival of the Olympic torch. I gave in to the occasion and positioned myself at the top of high street opposite the Castle, a little too early for comfort really, in bright sunshine. Preparations to cordon off an area for the torch procession through the city centre were thorough and long drawn out, since it was vital to keep some pedestrian thoroughfares and crossing points open until the last minute. It was quite an impressive feat of organisation. Well done Cardiff Council for that.

A brightly attired troupe of Carnival Samba dancers and drummers brought a good measure of local spirit to the streets, as did Wonderbrass, Cardiff's swinging jazz ensemble which does great things when playing out of doors. I'd got the Torch arrival time wrong, as there wasn't much public information to say when it was due to appear. In the hour beforehand, promotional teams of the three main Olympic sponsors - Coca Cola, Lloyds TSB and Samsung - worked like mad to mount advertising banners along barriers, and gave out free things to wave, so that the media record would show a sea of corporate commercial banners. To my mind this utterly despoils the Olympic ethos.

What annoyed me most that the distribution by the Samsung team of little flags with the Union Jack on one side and the Samsung Olympic sponsor's logo and colours on the other. Which is worse, to have your country's flag burned by hated adversaries, or defaced by a foreign owned global corporation? Will nobody be locked in the Tower of London for this betrayal of our national dignity? To make matters worse, the Samsung blue colour is nearly the same as that of the Tory party. Who let Olympic organisers get away with all this? The reality is every bit as absurd and degrading of our sovereign identity as the satirical TV comedy series based on LOCOG recently portrayed.

The corporate PR folk in their naff uniforms put much loud effort into warming up an already overheated crowd, making the wait seem even longer. Only on a big match day have I seen so many police officers in the city centre - dozens on foot where they belong, with the crowds, then amazingly in a vehicle procession, 3 riot squad vans, 3 patrol cars, 6 motor bikes, 4 expensive police bicycles, and 2 police horses. How much did that little show cost in fuel and police overtime? Money not being spent making the city centre a safer place to do business. Ironically the police got more of a cheer from the crowd than did the corporate PR drones.

When the torch arrived, it was preceded by a large vehicle sporting a rear end platform installation supporting half a dozen photographers. This stopped for a photo opportunity outside the Castle, blocking the view for hundreds of people in the vicinity, all straining to get a glimpse and take their own picture - as I was.

I heard a number of people curse in frustration, as their camera or phone batteries died at the vital moment. Such a long orchestrated wind up meant that people happily snapped away at unimportant stuff believing that the moment was nigh when it wasn't. Fortunately, the torch procession went down St Mary Street, crossed the Taff, then doubled back toward the Castle, crossing the Taff again to enter the Castle grounds and appear at a ticket only open air concert on Cooper's field, so those who hung around after the media circus passed got a second go - if their batteries lasted.  Mine did, just - the overall results, disappointing. Occasion, un-necessarily over-hyped, disappointing.

The photos are posted here.