Andrew Jeffrey - The Mathemagician

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22 July 2008 Political Correctness I read this this morning and laughed out loud. Hope you like it. Nelson: "Order the signal, Hardy!" Hardy: "Aye, aye sir." Nelson: "Hold on, that's not what I dictated to the signal officer. What's the meaning of this?" Hardy: "Sorry sir?" Nelson (reading aloud): "England expects every person to do his (or her) duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion or disability". What gobbledygook is this?" Hardy: "Admiralty policy, I'm afraid, sir. We're an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil's own job getting 'England' past the censors, lest it be considered racist." Nelson: "Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco." Hardy: "Sorry sir. All naval vessels have been designated smoke-free working environments." Nelson: "In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the main brace to steel the men before battle." Hardy: "The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. It's part of the Government's policy on binge drinking." Nelson: "Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we'd better get on with it ...full speed ahead." Hardy: "I think you'll find that there's a 4 knot speed limit in this stretch of water." Nelson: "Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow's nest please." Hardy: "That won't be possible, sir." Nelson: "What?" Hardy: "Health and safety have closed the crow's nest, sir. No harness. And they said that rope ladder doesn't meet regulations. They won't let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected." Nelson: "Then get me the ship's carpenter without delay, Hardy." Hardy: "He's busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the fo'c'sle Admiral." Nelson: "Wheelchair access to the fo'c'sle? I've never heard anything so absurd." Hardy: "Health and safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled." Nelson: "Differently abled? I've only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn't rise to the rank of Admiral by playing the disability card." Hardy: "Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is under-represented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency." Nelson: "Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons." Hardy: "A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and safety won't let the crew up the rigging without hard hats. And they don't want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven't you seen the adverts?" Nelson: "I've never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy." Hardy: "The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral." Nelson: "What? This is mutiny." Hardy: "It's not that, sir. It's just that they're afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There's a couple of legal-aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks." Nelson: "Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?" Hardy: "Actually, sir, we're not." Nelson: "We're not?" Hardy: "No, sir. The Frenchies and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn't even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation." Nelson: "But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil." Hardy: "I wouldn't let the ship's Diversity Coordinator hear you saying that sir. You'll be up on disciplinary." Nelson: "You must consider every man an enemy, who speaks ill of your King." Hardy: "Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it's the rules. It could save your life" Nelson: "Don't tell me - health and safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy and the lash?" Hardy: As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu! And there's a ban on corporal punishment." Nelson: "What about the sodomy?" Hardy: "I believe that is now legal, sir." Nelson: "In that case ...kiss me, Hardy.... Hardy: ''Yes sir, that will be fine ....''

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17 July 2008 One Night of Queen What do Frank Sinatra, George Best, Elvis and Freddie Mercury have in common? (other than being dead, of course…) The answer is that I very much regret not having seen them perform live. However, I was delighted to have the opportunity to put this right on Saturday night. Sort of. Unbeknownst to me, the ever-lovely Mrs J had booked two tickets for the Brighton Centre where Gary Mullen and the Works were playing. Who?? Exactly – me neither. They are collectively billed with a show known as "One Night of Queen." They are a Queen Tribute band. And, as it turns out, extraordinarily brilliant. The musicians were awesome, but what really made the evening was the fantastic Gary Mullen who has obviously spent years studying Freddie Mercury’s every move, and had the voice to match. The whole Brighton Centre was rocking; it probably helped that they were filming the concert that night, so the guys were probably trying their hardest. We certainly didn’t spend much time sitting on our seats. Such was the impact of this band, I went home and dug out all my old Queen albums; ah, vinyl. I found seven in all, and bored the babysitter rigid with tales of old Queen songs. She escaped in the end, having endured a very dodgy rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody… Google them. And if you ever get the chance to see them, don’t pass it up. Possibly the best concert I have ever been too. The website is ‘onenightofqueen.com’.

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7 July 2008 Getting There Dreckly... I am currently sitting in Newquay Airport awaiting my delayed flight back to Gatwick. Sadly, as it is now not departing until 7:15pm, I will have broken my promise to my children that I would be home in time to read them a bedtime story. But enough of my small-scale woes – here is a story to make you laugh. It is in the best tradition of taxi-driver stories. (By this I mean of course that it may be true, it may not be true, (who cares!) it may well be claimed by every taxi driver in the vicinity to be their own personal experience, and it is imho immensely funny. ) Some background – I was working in Falmouth today, talking to around 100 Primary Teachers about making maths fun. They had flown me into Newquay airport from Gatwick last night, though this still ne cessitated a fairly lengthy taxi ride to the B+B where they were putting me up. The taxi driver was a very friendly chap, and told me some of the history of the area, much of which inevitably included maritime stories, given that Falmouth is apparently on of the three deepest natural harbours in Europe, so inevitably has a significant amount of industry built around some of the world’s largest ships. Often (explained my driver) foreign sailors would come aboard and be taken by taxi to a hotel. It is one such sailor who is the star of this story. In his words: So I picked up this sailor chappy called Jose or something (he was Spanish). He said “What is it like around here?” I told him that we were very laid back. Ah, explained Jose, I know. In my country we have a word – ‘Manyana’ . That means ‘do not do today what you can leave until next week’. Do you have a word like that in Cornwall? NEXT WEEK? NO! I said. WE DON’T HAVE A WORD FOR ANYTHING QUITE THAT URGENT! At this point my driver creased up, and I must admit I laughed genuinely as well, while secretly wondering how many times he had told that story over his lifetime, and how many other people were sitting in taxis at that precise moment listening to the exact same story…a lovely guy though, and a breath of fresh air from the usual “Blimey, I’ll tell you what’s wrong with this flippin’ government, mate…”. He told me that the locals use the word ‘dreckly’; I love that. Though ‘indreckly’ might be more apposite…as we arrived in Falmouth, I asked him where he recommended that I should eat. He said that time was against me, being late on a Sunday evening, so dropped me at the B+B, waited while I checked my bags in, and then cheerfully drove me down into the town and pointed out the best restaurants. And his meter was not running… He had the sort of quality that is so valuable when you come across it – he was obviously enjoying being a taxi driver. To him, driving me around (late on a Sunday night after a flight delay) for those 45 minutes at least, was the most pleasurable thing in the whole world to him. People like that really stand out in your mind. Great waiters, intuitive shop assistants, caring and passionate teachers, people selling you train tickets – there is a guy at Brighton station who absolutely adores – wait for it – giving people train tickets and helping them plan the best train to catch! As far as he is concerned, he has the best job in the world. He stands out amongst some of the others, who look a bit miserable, unsurprisingly. Of course, these people may not even remember you the next day, but who cares? It’s not that they are being insincere, simply that for the limited time they have with you they seek only to serve. I vowed last night to be more like that taxi driver. And I will get there. Dreckly. But I won’t get home in time for my kids’ bedtime story. I have a tricky phone call to make... 8:15pm: Update…no phone signal at the airport, so unable to make aforementioned call. Worried that they’ll be worried. And let down. We are now approaching Gatwick, having finally taken off nearly an hour and a half late. Wow – just got a stunning view of the Needles; finally got a fix on our position. Normally I would really appreciate the wonderful view of the South Coast of England, but actually just feeling depressed. I hate breaking promises, especially to my children. Oh, enough. Sorry for moaning; every now and then I forget how really blessed I am…and I forgot to say, the Falmouth teachers were great. (I am hoping they will invite me to spend a whole week in their schools next year!) About to land – have to switch off now. 10:15pm Home. Yipee!

Posted by Andrew at 21:36    Comments (2)

29 June 2008 YORKSHIRE Having returned from what Yorkshiremen refer to as 'God's own Country', (I'm not sure whether my Jewish friends might have a view on that) I realise that I am obviously out-of-touch with yoof culture and language. During the week, I was told "Sir, you're mint!", "That was sick!", and "That were well-ace". I am assured that apparently these are all compliments... Walking through the centre of Sheffield later one afternoon. the rain was chucking it down in a cliched sort of 'told-you-it-always-rained-here' way. I sought sanctuary in the nearest building, which just happened to be the Cathedral. It occured to me that God would probably not mind - after all, such places had served as places of sanctuary for centuries. As I entered I was struck by the stillness - for a moment, I was the only person in the building. Or at least, that was what I thought until I saw a man praying at the back. BUt in those few seconds, the feeling that it was just me and the Big G was amazing...

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