On AI avoiding the question posed

I didn't get up until after nine. A long time in bed, but I didn't sleep well, overstimulated by thinking about what I'm writing, and a big evening meal. Clare was up an hour before me, cooking breakfast pancakes. I did very little all morning apart from showering, washing my hair and exchanging messages with cousin Dianne about our family tree. Clare cooked fish and chips for lunch, and we both slept for a while before going out for a walk. I felt stiff and tired, Clare's arthritic hip was hurting so she did one lap of Llandaff Fields and return home, leaving me to continue walking a lap of Pontcanna Fields as well.

Loud music was emanating from somewhere the other side of the Taff, probably Coopers Field, suggesting an event was on. Later, young people returning to Pontcanna across Blackweir Bridge had faces painted in the blue and yellow colours of Ukraine's national flag. Or else the colours represented a sports team they were supporting. A Google event search was surprisingly unhelpful, seeming not to understand the word 'today' unless it was qualified as 'only today', throwing up all sorts of irrelevant events at dates past and present. If this is AI at work, it's laughable ignorance. 

There seems to be no enquiry possible around the question 'What's on in Cardiff today' categorising and listing most major types of public event. Large language model AI algorithms need to be 'taught' by processing public information, they say, but for now it doesn't seem to be attuned to delivering basic general information, unless an event is being promoted hard. That's not always the information needed.

For the third day in a row I bumped into Richard on his litter gathering round. His afternoon bag contained a heavy coil of thick cable insulation dumped after its copper core had been stripped out. Earlier I found an unopened water bottle and Coca Cola can discarded on top of different rubbish bins. Consumers with money to waste buying more than they need and then dumping it. A cost-of-living crisis hasn't impacted on such selfish greed yet.

I copied my collection of music files from my phone to the Linux Workstation this evening. Building the database on Mint's 'Rhythmbox' music player was a slow process, so I watched episodes of the fourth series of Norwegian crimmie 'Wisting' while I waited. There were inconsistencies in the metadata of some of the MP3 files I created, so I found myself with multiple copies of folders and the relevant files spread between them. Rationalising these into single folders for each album also needs to be done, and that took more time attending to the detail in scores of folders. It's not a job I would entrust to AI, that's for sure. 

Another wedding blessing, and a new novel

Yesterday we took Rhiannon to the Chateau de Chillon. I was glad for another photo opportunity with a better camera. Back in January I took a camera but forgot to reload the memory card, so I had to use my Blackberry Q10, whose photos aren't nearly as good. It's such an interesting place. Clare and I were interested to observe how Rhiannon naturally gravitated to the interactive video screens telling aspects of the castle's story, rather than the wall and panel displays. A child of her era I suppose. We ate a late snack lunch on the terrace outside afterwards, and were amazed to see scores of tame sparrows chasing crumbs, and even occasionally trying boldly to snatch food from a person's hand. I enjoyed the walk, but it left me feeling uncomfortable and tired, so for the rest of the day, and most of today, I've been confined to the house, and managing my still draining wound.

I had to conserve energy to ensure I could carry out today's wedding blessing. It took me quite a while to make the final preparations, as I'd not really felt well enough to knuckle down and do the necessaries earlier in the week. In fact, I had to concentrate on making sure all the pieces of music I had downloaded and edited for the service would work. This proved to be a nightmare, because the wretched Google music app, and any app interface layered on top of it, refused to work with home made MP3s created using Audacity on a Windows machine. In contrast to last Saturday's wedding blessing, there were just fifteen people with the bride and groom. This made it relaxed and informal, so it was easy for me to officiant and be a digital deejay.

I don't know why an MP3 file should play on several devices and but not on every equivalent device, but I hate Google for this inconsistency. Their original 'don't be evil' policy no longer operates. Thankfully, I was able to get every type of file to play on my tablet, perhaps because its operating system is less up to date. It's hard to play music offline, now that's become the default for so many devices, and I couldn't risk staying online and streaming in an environment with a flaky connection. I succeeded, however and was able to relay music from the table to an old hifi system which sits in the church, redundant. Nobody thinks it works, but I succeeded in using it!

I knew I wouldn't feel like doing much except rest after the wedding, so Clare and Rhiannon went to Vevey on the paddle steamer without me. It was cool and overcast, but thankfully, it didn't rain, so they were able to enjoy the street market and visit the Nestle food museum, before returning with a generous supply of chocolate to take home.

Once I'd completed my sermon for tomorrow, I started to read Paula Hawkins' novel 'Girl on the Train'. It's very dense with intimate detail, drawing you right into the claustrophobic routine of suburban domestic life, too dense for my taste - although the detailed and intimate first person portrayal of an unemployed female alcoholic's domestic life offers an excellent study for anyone interested in addictive behaviour. All in all, it's an impressive portrayal of people whose lives are ruled by the lies they tell about themselves and to themselves.
   

Unexpected Windows wobbles

Late last night, we walked around the port and ended up again at 'Artsenal', where a 'Poetry Jam' was taking place. A succession of men and women of various ages came out of the audience, and spoke their own works, accompanied by two guitarists improvising a background accompaniment. It was pleasant to listen to, even if our understanding of the Spanish was limited. A gathering of this kind onm a hot summer evening, despite its contemporary setting, has a truly timeless dimension to it. This event could have occurred in any era over the past three thousand years. Wonderful.

Malaga was shrouded in sea mist with a topping of low cloud when we woke up this morning, so we made the effort to get out as soon as possible and climb up to the Gibralfaro Fortress before the sun appeared in full strength. Plenty of others were out with the same objective in mind. We toured the ramparts, and had a beer at the cafeteria before walking back down. In the largest open coutyard, a stage with sound system had been erected and couple of hundred black plastic chairs laid out, ready for a performance, probably this evening, although there was no information readily to hand to tell what this might be. 

It made me wonder if a lot more publicity, particular for nice performances here is done on line. If a ticked event was already fully booked, there'd be less need to advertise in a traditional way. This would also explain why little information in the form of posters about events is displayed in La Malagueta barrio about event in in the Plaza de Toros. Certainly any time I have sought information about the next event most likely to deliver us a reduced night's sleep, I've been directed to the ticketing website for bullring events, and more of a hunt is required to find a website delivering a full season's event diary. No information delivery system can avoid making assumptions about how best to serve its clientele, and that can lead to variations in difficulty when it comes to finding out what you need to know, when crossing boundaries of language and culture. Intriguing thought.

On our return from Gibralfaro, we walked to Mercadona to do our weekend shopping, then cooked lunch, and had a siesta. When I came to use the office computer to get my sermon printed off, it failed to start and went into repair mode. It stayed in repair mode for several hours, during which I went with Clare to the beach for her daily swim. The system seemed frozen in time, so I switched it off, a hard reset using the power button and re-started it, with the same result. I did the same again, pressing F8 at boot, to supply the various trouble shooting and repair menus. Same result each time, it was stuck somewhere in loading the Windows environment files, a repair job I could do nothing about without have possession of a Windows 7 system disk.

Having forgotten to make a copy to USB stick of my Sunday sermon, the original was inaccessible. So, I hunted down my digital toolkit, which currently includes a bootable copy of Ubuntu Studio on a Memory Stick. The PC booted this with ease. It was reassuring, as it meant the problem was not a hardware failure, but just a Windows 7 missing file. Then I was able copy the sermon file across to another flash drive, for transfer to my Chromebook. From there I could shift the file to my tablet, and read it from there tomorrow. The Bluetooth link on the Nexus 7 and Toshiba Chromebook both staid they were working, but refused to handshake properly after performing protocols correctly. If two Google devices have this kind of hassle, how useful is Bluetooth at any time. I emailed the file to myself, and got it to display satisfactorily, just before supper.

Later, I switched on the Windows 7 laptop again, and when it displayed the 'Repair' menu, I opted to go straight to normal Windows boot routine - much to  my surprise it worked normally. This meant I could print off my sermon after all, and take the machine through clean up and de-fragmentation routines, just in case.

Maybe the initialisation part of the boot routine threw up an error message calling up the 'Repair' menu because of some minute impact on the machine of heat and/or humidity. Maybe it's running too hot for its own good. It certainly gave me five hours of bother I could have done without on a Saturday. Amazing, nevertheless, how well the live boot version of Ubuntu Studio worked, to give me hope. Where it failed was in attaching the wi-fi module to the system, making it impossible to search for and download and install the Linux HPLIP driver package which so often delivers just what you need for a printer to work properly with no messing about. Ah well, nice try.

Glad that I had my little box of tricks with me to rescue the sermon file, even if, in the end, Windows 7 got around to working the way it was intended to.

All Saints day with Catholic and Orthodox flavours

Another mild autumnal morning, awake before dawn again and on the terrace doing Chi Gung exercises once the sun had risen - it's just warm enough. As no Eucharist was planned to be celebrated in the chaplaincy today, I took extra time over Morning Prayer, adding in the lectionary readings for the Mass of All Saints. In the course of checking my various internet accounts, I came across the Facebook page of a former colleague who converted to Orthodoxy when he retired. One of the articles he posted was on the history of the minority Orthodox church in China at the turn of the twentieth century, and how over two hundred faithful and clergy were martyred during the Boxer rebellion. That was a timely thing to read about on All Saints' Day. 

He also posted the text of an Orthodox hymn known as the Akathist of Thanksgiving. It was, I quote; "found among the effects of Protopresbyter Gregory Petrov upon his death in a prison camp in 1940. The title is from the words of Saint John Chrysostom as he was dying in exile. It is a song of praise from amidst the most terrible sufferings attributed to Metropolitan Tryphon of Turkestan."

Metropolitan Tryphon was a son of Georgian nobility. He was a Bishop for 33 years, before and after the Russian revolution, so his entire ministry was conducted in violent troubled times. He is said to have written this hymn not long before his death in 1934. It's long, as are others in this unique liturgical genre, including some repeats nearly 3,200 words long, and would take half an hour to read aloud, and much longer to sing prayerfully using the Russian version of Byzantine chant. It is nonetheless a poetic work of great beauty, expressing heartfelt thanks for an entire life, for its joys and sorrows and for the grace of God at work through them all, and written by someone reflecting in faith on a life full of trial and suffering, lived in faith without regret or resentment or remorse. 

It's a faithful old man's prayer, one that any retired person might well read, mark learn and inwardly digest. The words can be found here - just one small section for a taster, there's lots more.

Glory to Thee for calling me into being

Glory to Thee, showing me the beauty of the universe

Glory to Thee, spreading out before me heaven and earth

Like the pages in a book of eternal wisdom

Glory to Thee for Thine eternity in this fleeting world

Glory to Thee for Thy mercies, seen and unseen

Glory to Thee through every sigh of my sorrow

Glory to Thee for every step of my life's journey

For every moment of glory

Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age.

I decided to go out for a walk around ten in the Garrucha direction, with no real aim in mind apart from checking which of the big bulk carriers was in port today. It turned out that the 'Kure Harbour' had left and been replaced overnight by the 'Pisti', although the latter had been due to dock before the former if the marine traffic website was to believed. Anyway, when I'd taken more photographs, on impulse, I headed up the hill so see if the Parish Church of San Joachin was open on this fiesta day. Indeed it was, but better still a Mass was due to be celebrated at midday. I was delighted. There were forty minutes to wait, but it meant I could have a good look around the church before the faithful were first summoned by bells at half past eleven.

The priest came in to get ready, and put on some background religious musak, which did nothing to stop people being chatty when they came in. By the time the Mass began the church was a third full, sixty mostly older people. A few hymns were sung, the priest preached what felt like a lengthy homily but may not have been so long as it felt. His voice sounded gravelly, and I think he was complaining of a sore throat. He spoke conversationally, but to my ear unintelligibly, although I understood many key words, I couldn't discern sentence structure, which was frustrating. I heard on the radio a few days ago that after Japanese, Spanish the second fastest spoken language in the world. I guess that means on an everyday basis, as I find I can decipher a fair amount of what broadcasters have to say.

We were out of church by a quarter to one, and I was back home preparing lunch by half past two, largely thanks to the brevity of Roman Catholic liturgical hymnody, editable to suit the occasion. So different from the rites of Byzantium, Moscow, Jerusalem or Antioch.

I went out for another walk just before sunset, first along the beach, and then inland up one of the side streets away from the beach in search of a clear view of the spectacular orange and grey sky which had developed once the sun had dipped behind Mojacar pueblo. This took me along the Calle Camino del Palmeral, along which several urbanizacions are strung out. It ends over the hill where it meets with a roundabout below the pueblo, another short cut when walking up there which I've now found.

In the evening I found I'd received a couple of verification code notifications from Gmail regarding my sister's account, which I set up for her years ago, with my address as the emergency point of reference in the event of needing to reset a password. As she doesn't use the mobile phone she persuaded me to buy for her, I couldn't just text it to her to use, so I had to ask Clare to call her and check if this had truly happened (and wasn't a hacker's effort), and then pass on the code via WhatApp (usefully encrypted) so she can read it out to my sister over the phone. Unforeseen consequences of trying to be helpful!

Back to Chromebook

A nice quiet lazy morning goes down nicely after a busy Sunday. Time to recuperate. I seem to need more of it these days. Then after lunch a walk. I also need constant exercise to stay fit. So, I walked first to the GP surgery with a prescription renewal, and booked myself a 'flu jab appointment, although I forgot to book an doctor's appointment as requested, but as the 'flu jab is tomorrow, all I have to do is remember to book as soon as I arrive. Then I walked part of the way to Victoria Park, hopping on a convenient bus to speed up the process of returning church keys from Sunday morning to Fr Mark, and from there walked over to the Staples store in Western Avenue and back, to buy a new Chromebook.

I gave Owain my 'early adopter' Samsung model. It has served me well over the past two years, and is in good nick, although its battery life is only four hours, about 60% of its original,. He's always made a bee line for it when he's visiting because of its convenient quick access for casual use. I've had my eye on a Toshiba Chromebook 2 for some time, as there's a model with a higher resolution screen which boasts more RAM and a better processor, although a Chromebook's speed relies as much on internet connectivity as anything due to its downloadable operating system. Staples had one one display last time I was in store, twenty quid cheaper than John Lewis, so my walk had added incentive.

There were rain showers as I arrived at the store. The rucksack I'd taken to carry home my purchase was too small for the containing box, and it slipped out and fell to the floor as I was leaving, fortunately not on a corner, so there was no damage to the box and none to the computer when I unpacked it. It was wonderful to set it up and be using it in under five minutes with all my Google account details and bookmarks in place. I'd waited a month before buying a new one, just to find out what it would be like to do without it, and rely just on the Asus Transformer for quick casual usage away from the office desk. 

Well, if you keep the Transformer switched off it takes minutes to book up and re-sync its registered accounts. The native browser is unbearably slow. Chrome and Firefox user interfaces are not fully consistent with desktop or phone versions. The software is showing signs of age in lacking user interface updates, and offering no convenient path to acquire them. I found I was repeating keyboard errors when writing or editing as use of certain keys is not the same as that acquired from habitually using other keyboards. While the keyboard itself is not that bad, the speeds of interaction of both keyboard and touch-screen with the display seem to fluctuate in practice. Such a relief to get back to the simple consistency and responsiveness of a Google Chrome device. Touch screens aren't always as precise as they need to be to avoid error, a good trackpad and/or a mouse is superior in my experience.

The other thing I like about Chromebooks is that the time from switch on to work is half a Windows 10 device and delivers a fully updated operating system. What Microsoft ads don't tell is the amount of time that has to be spent machine minding, either as the PC syncs filesystems, or while updates are installed, either at switch-off or start-up, and this can add a five minute delay to whatever you're doing. Time is always of the essence when you need information from an internet device. Closing many PCs while performing these essential routines may lead to it switching into sleep mode in the middle of updating, and that carries the risk of error. No problem if you rarely switch off your computer, but a risk if you're conscientious, and always switch off, to save battery or isolate from network hackers while unattended. 

Will Microsoft ever be as good as Google in delivering devices that address these issues at source? I find it very interesting that Microsoft partners are now marketing basic PCs in the same price bracket as Google Chromebooks, and with similar specifications. But, sales promoters always have to offer internet security packages to customers, to cover the glaring design deficiency in Windows operating systems, exploited in so many ingenious ways by global cyber criminals.

I notice that Five USA is currently promoting the launch of new CSI series on cyber crime. It'll be very interesting to see what kind of product placement (both hardware and software) features in the laboratory mis-en-scene.

Edging out browser choice

In the office again this afternoon, evaluating the new Microsoft Edge web browser, and setting up the new Acer desktop computer for Ashley, who's been too busy even to take it out of the box. As soon as the registration and initialization procedure was completed, the machine flagged up that it was immediately ready to upgrade to Windows 10, so I let it run, even though  had to leave before it was completed.

Edge presents itself with a minimal interface, a like Chrome in the early days. Changing the default  search engine from Bing to Google involves drilling down into the advanced settings menu. It's not wholly explicit. It doesn't list options, just gives you few greyed out empty menu options. You need to call up a Google homepage tab, then go into the settings menu before it displays a menu option that reflects the tab you've opened. Only then can your default setting be changed.

Come to think of it, the browser choice menu doesn't appear, giving you the option from the outset to choose between Internet Explorer, Chrome, Firefox and Safari. Does this mean that Edge as the default browser will be imposed until another round of litigation takes place? The enforcement of browser choice took place when  Internet Explorer was presenting so many security problems that an argument for choice was reasonable and in everyone's best interests. Edge hadn't been born at that time, intends to provide the security Internet Explorer at once failed to do. So, part of the argument justifying browser choice no longer exists, unless advocates for software freedom once more take Microsoft to law, an expensive process, with less certainty of winning. Time will tell, I guess.

 

Study makeover

My study is full of stuff, kinda organised but never totally tidy, a work in progress ever since I retired. There's never been enough time or energy to spare for proper review. Clare has been more conscious of its shortcomings than I have, and has diplomatically suggested improvements over the past four years, but without chagrin whenever events have diverted the course of action elsewhere. In fact, the only 'improvement' since I moved in, four and three quarter years ago, was the acquirement of a decent adjustable height office chair last year.

Maybe spending so much time away from 'mission control' over the past year, and having less to do over the holiday season led to a longer than usual conversation about 'doing something' to improve the study as a work environment. As a result, yesterday I did some tricky furniture shifting in a narrow space, to re-locate a book case into a space where it didn't fit flush to the wall, but at least the difference this made was reason to be persuaded by Clare to go the next stop.

Today, working slowly and carefully together, we tackled the challenge of reducing the height of the bookcase by 5cm. This involved removing all the books to the spare room, wielding a saw in quite a narrow space, plus some inaccurately aligned hole drilling to get the bolts to fit the structure together again. 

Getting everything back in place once this was completed resulted in a tidier and more manageable arrangement of computer workstation cables.  I've now re-arranged some of the bookshelves to allow easy access to stuff used most requently, and banished archive file, never accessed from prominence to obscurity where they properly belong, until needed if ever. I'm pleased with the result, having made the effort to consider the use I make of the room that's mine.

The advent of mobile computing has changed the way I work over the past few years living mostly in Spain. My home workstation is a great tool for doing some things I do occasionally, beyond writing documents, sending emails and surfing the web. Compared to just few years ago, I can do most of what I need from a web connected computer anywhere, though not everything. Anything involving precision scanning, managing all my files, either in the cloud or on a physical device, I prefer to do from a single place of reference. My study. 

It's no good, however clever modern auto-sync programs are, I end up with puzzling file duplications, version control nightmares and document hunts owing their existence to the fact that I'm creating documents on half a dozen different devices and not always remembering to save them to places where I can be sure they will end up being sharable in a recognisable location. The format war between Microsft and Google hardly helps. Default use of one consistent universal file format on all devices and platforms would help. In reality, moving between Google and Microsoft cloud storage systems is a fiddle (what the hell is .gdoc Google? And why do I need it?). On principle, I use both, for the same as well as different purposes. After all, why should I entrust my digital life to a single mega-corporate, when two are offering me their free services? (Forget the Apple cult).

Anyway, my study is now more habitable than it used to be. A new, smaller desk has been ordered from Amazon. Once installed, my little room will offer much more space than before, and easier access to things I need most.

All thanks to Clare's persistence in making my study fit for purpose.
     

Michaelmass Memories

The sound of torrential rain during the night woke me from sleep. I was amazed at how long it went on for. Thunder and lightening was also moving around the area between the Sierra de Mijas and the sea, so I got up and unplugged all the electrical equipment I could find, for peace of mind, before trying to get back to sleep. It has cleared up, and the roads were starting to dry out by the time I was on my way to the first Eucharist of the day in Calahonda. My access road to the N340 was however blocked by a Guardia Civil car. Sections of the highway nearby were still being cleared of debris and mud. Mostly the roads through the town were clear, but road crews were still sweeping away mud with water hoses at the junction where I made a second attempt to access the N340, but I was able to pass by and make my way to the church of San Miguel in good time.

As today is Michaelmass Eve, the church's statue of their patron saint was mounted on a flower decked trona beside the main altar, ready for a fiesta procession and parish picnic later in the day. It reminded me of Michaelmass ten years ago when Anto and I did a flamenco guitar course in Granada. We stayed in the Albaicin barrio, where their parish church patron saint was also San Miguel. The church had an image of the Archangel a good two metres tall. It was taken on procession from the bottom to the top of the barrio by a cofradia team of two dozen white shirted men. San Miguel's Calahonda image could be easily carried by one person, but its trona was for four persons to carry, perhaps even children.

Despite the stormy night, very few regulars were missing, and there was a congregation of thirty. As I neared the end of my sermon, an elderly lady in the congregation fainted and fell off her seat, bringing proceedings to a halt while first aid was ministered. When it was clear that her condition was not life threatening we continued with prayers of intercession, and I laid hands on her while the Peace was being exchanged. One person took her home and another drove her car home for her. People are very good here at gently supporting each other, and no doubt somebody will make sure she gets to the doctor for a check up very soon.

Attendance at Los Boliches was not as big as I'd expected. The influx of autumnal residents in any number has yet to pick up. I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that the British Isles has been enjoying one of the driest and warmest Septembers on record?

Today is Clare's birthday, and she texted me to say that she'd opened her iPad present and was setting it up for first use. In the evening we spoke of Skype, but she admitted she was still talking to me on Kath's iPad, because she'd not yet managed to install the Skype app from Apple store, as it was demanding she supplied it with credit card details, even to download free apps, and she didn't have hers to hand when she set out to do it. 

What does Apple do with this information, which remains unused if you don't ever download any non-free apps? Android's Google Play store doesn't make that demand, and if it did, I'd stop using it. These operating systems take too much information from us for no reason that is really so beneficial to us. Apple products are great, well designed, functional, as well as expensive, and very determined to make it easier for the user to spend more, such that it's possible to do so unwittingly if you don't understand fully the processes you're engaging with. Not happy with that at all. I'll pass on the Apple temptation.

   

On not fixing what ain't broke

In stark contrast to yesterday, this morning's sky was overcast, and it rained. While I was editing and uploading photos from yesterday's outing, I had a message to tell me of the untimely death of Gordon Nichol, after a fall. He was another of the faithful at St John's, a contemporary of mine who'd expressed the hope that I'd be available to take his funeral service when the time came. I recall him asking me this himself in person on past occasions when he was in a melancholic mood. I spoke to his partner to let her know I'd had the sad news.

Then at midday, I dashed through the drizzle to the Ignation meditation group at Diana's house. By the time we'd finished our forty minute session, the skies were clear blue and the sun was shining again, making the day feel more like one in April than October. A pleasant surprise.

After lunch with the mediation group I went into the office, stuffed envelopes for a RadioNet mail distribution, then attempted to design and print some labels to a new format. No matter how many adjustments I tried, or scrupulous checks I made, I couldn't get the label file created to print out and properly match the label sheet. Nor, could I get control of the tray I wanted to use to feed labels through the lazer printer. It's an everyday office routine I've never been able to master, despite understanding how it works and thinking I've configured it correctly. I suppose it's one good reason why many small print-shops still exist and have enough clients to keep them busy with work.

Owain came around for supper, getting to grips with his Samsung Galaxy Ace II and asking my advice on low level controls he hadn't worked out for himself. Unfortunately I'm not much better myself. There are so many options and things I either don't need or don't have a clue about, I investigate features on a need to know basis, and generally forget very quickly how I did or didn't achieve a result. 

One thing is certain. I don't like any of the possible web browsing interfaces available on Android equipment, tablet of phone. They simply don't allow the same precise control as the browser user interface on a proper computer. It bothers me that the standardisation of interfaces across different devices is tending to make desktops work more like phones and tablets, and in my book that's taking away control from the user. And no, I never wanted to be obliged to learn a new user interface, which limits what I can do quickly and efficiently from memory. Why should I have to waste time acquiring extra abilities to use equipment when what I already had was perfectly adequate? Why does Google keep on changing the layout of its main homepage? Twice this month so far.

How long before someone clever invents a 'retro interface option' for people like me that resent so much the additional un-necessary imposition?

I heard this evening from Richard Hall, churchwarden at St John's city Parish Church of the death of one of its faithful members, Gordon Nichol, following a fall dowstairs. In an occasionally melancholic mood before I retired, he would say to me "When I die, will you officiate at my funeral here at St John's?" Yes, of course!" was my considered pastoral response, believing that he would outlive me.

You never know what's going to happen, do you?