Dom Davis (The Blog)

It’s getting to the time of year where people are beginning to ask me what I want for my birthday. Herein lies a problem. There is a gap of roughly £2K between what is socially acceptable to ask for and the cheapest item on my list of things I would like. Bear in mind this is the full list of things I would like, not just the things I’d like for my birthday

Having just moved house and thrown away or sold a load of stuff I’m a bit loathe to be acquiring more stuff. I don’t really drink, most of my media is now digital and I’ve been away from home long enough that I already have all the things one needs in the house. This all goes towards making me an absolute sod to buy for. Or at least it would, were it not for Jelly Beans.

I love Jelly Beans. I will quite happily eat them until I feel sick. And then wait 5 minutes and eat more. Jelly beans also have another advantage: one can buy variable quantities. If, for example, a family member didn’t love me enough to spend £20 on me then they could spend £5 instead (did you see what I did there? ). Jelly Beans would appear to be the perfect solution. There is one small fly in the ointment.

Not all beans are created equal. For starters I like the Jelly Belly beans, not the cheap imitations. Secondly, not all flavours are created equal, and some are down right nasty. So how do you know which flavours to buy? It’s a toughie, but there are some simple rules one can follow to mitigate the problem.

Simplest of all is you could just purchase a gift box or tube or mixed beans. I will sort these into three piles containing indelible, passable and tasty beans. The passable and tasty beans will be eaten (separately) and the indelible ones passed onto others who like them. This method is not fool proof and some tasty beans look very much like indelible ones. I will err on the side of caution here which will result in between 10 and 20% wastage.

The safer option is to simply get the mix box (£5 ish) or 1Kg bag (£20.40 + over £5 p&p) of sour beans. It’s a limited selection of flavours but they all fall into the tasty category. If there is access to mix your own bean counters then simply taking from the list of: water melon, pear, orange, any cola ones, anything with the word sherbet in it, any sour ones, cinnamon, and the other spicy ones who’s name escapes me and you’ll be fine.

If you wanted to get creative and you have access to mix your own then follow the simple rule of no brown, black, white, or off white beans. In general black and brown are inedible (the exception being the cola ones) as they tend to be chocolate (wrong in a bean), one of many coffee flavours (just wrong) or liquorice (which I’ve never liked). The white and whitish ones are usually the more savoury flavours (popcorn for example) which are edible but don’t go well with the others and just aren’t as tasty. I’ve yet to find a brightly coloured bean I didn’t like (with the exception of the bamboozled flavours, but they only come in prepackaged box form).

So there you go, the guide to getting me the perfect gift for my birthday (or Christmas as this advice holds until further notice). In the mean time I need to work out if anyone wants to get in on buying beans in bulk. You can get individual flavours in 1Kg bags, but to get a proper mix you need at least 5-10 flavours which is 5-10Kg of beans and, more importantly one or two hundred quid, which could arguably be better spent. ideally I need to find enough people that we can put in for a good mix and walk away with 1Kg each but I don’t know 5 or more insane people who love beans as much as I do

I’ve blogged before (on a previous blog I think) about emails from Camelot regarding lottery tickets. My argument was that the subject line was graded so you’d know at a glance if you were looking at a life changing win, a windfall or chump change. I’m not sure if Camelot have heeded my advice, but I’m sure the emails used to say “Good news…” rather than just “News…”. Perhaps the good is now reserved for larger amounts. I don’t know. I’ve not won any.

What I have discovered is that the thrill, excitement and anticipation I used to have on receiving those tickets has been replaced with jaded cynicism. No longer do I wonder if I’m an overnight millionaire, now I just assume £10. The reason is pure and simple. With the exception of one time when I matched 4 numbers and got £60 something I have either received £10 (lotto), £5 (thunderball – which I no longer play) or some pathetic amount like £2.67 (Euromillions, which for me has really been Europence with a total winnings of under £10).

Of late we’ve rather been on a bit of a winning streak with 3 lotto wins (totalling £30) and two Europence wins (totalling just over a fiver) which seems to have turned me into an ungrateful bastard. After all, £35 is better than a swift kick in the teeth and it means we’re only a few quid down on those two months (£9 per month lotto via direct debit and £18 spent on Europence). But no, the green monster looks at the odd couple who won one hundred and something stupid million and seven fucking pence (because when you’re that rich 7p is important) and says “why couldn’t that be us? We have a baby to house and a desperate desire to replace work with a series of five star adventure holidays round the world, we deserve that money!”. I mean, have you seen how much it costs to go on safari in Africa? And I mean properly on Safari, not slumming it. It’s close to £100,000 for a month. That’s not going to happen without a proper Lottery win.

So yes, Camelot have got it right now; it is news about my ticket. Hey ho. There’s always Saturdays draw.

I was an hour late getting home last night courtesy of Notwork Rail and points failure. My evening pretty much consisted of getting home, eating and going to bed, watching a little TV and then getting a reasonably early night as I was quite tired. All was going well until about 3am when my brain decided that it would like to ruminate of some things I need to deal with, but couldn’t actually do anything about there and then. The next 3 hours taught me the following:

• The Jawbone UP, which is supposed to track how well you sleep, can easily be fooled into thinking you’re asleep even when you’re not.
• Willow is an incredibly noisy sleeper and makes all kinds of odd noises.
• Someone has performed an objective study into the usefulness of a chocolate teapot.
• I should have got up and played Skyrim.

I’ve been in and out of hospital many times over my life for a while host of things. Illness, kidney stones, wisdom teeth removal, broken arm to name but a few, but I don’t think I have ever had an operation. They have always been ‘procedures’. I think to qualify as an operation one has to be cut into and, as far as I can remember, they’ve never had to do that.

Today all that changes and I am having an operation. There is a blissful irony that this isn’t at the hospital, it’s at the doctors, and it’s going to be less traumatic and less invasive than most of the procedures I’ve had. This will be due, in the main, to it being a minor operation (very minor in fact, they’re removing a mole) but it doesn’t change the fact that it is classed as an operation.

As far as I know they’re only removing 1 mole, however, I’d like them to remove more if they can. I’m covered in them and there’s about 10 that I’d happily have lopped off. I shall consult with the doctor while I’m there and see what he says. Who knows, I may be in for a whole string of operations over the coming weeks.

With yes days annoyance fresh in my mind I called my private banking manager first this this morning. The number didn’t work. Arse. Still, never mind, I’d call the premier banking call centre and get the details I needed from them. In got through quickly (i always do, it’s one of the perks of the account) and the lady on the phone just wanted to verify who I was with some security questions. No problem.

Question 1: what amount was yesterday’s transactions to the apple iTunes store for? Erm… I don’t know, they roll up purchases and tend put them through in batches. Let’s try the amount on the latest email.

Question 2: When did I open the account? Erm… feck knows. Sometime this year if you’re talking about when the faffing about happened. Looking at the paperwork for the time I’m going to guess this date.

Question 3: How many accounts I have? Does that include savings accounts, current accounts, ISAs, credit cards, mortgages, joint accounts? I dunno, 5?

Question 4: What is the first line of your address. Easy, nailed that one.

Question 5: What is the airspeed velocity of a laden swallow? I don’t bloody know! African or European?!

I was duly informed that they had failed to identify who I was, couldn’t access my account, couldn’t tell me how to get hold of my private banking manager and that I would have to wait for a letter to arrive or go into my branch.

Right. Bag loaded with paperwork, passport and iPad. Let’s head to branch. Was. Not. Happy.

Got to the branch and spoke to someone on the counter. They looked confused, which is probably to be expected, and I was handed off to someone who could help. I explained the situation, showed them the letter and they straight away said that the insurance company should have been told about the account move and that it shouldn’t be a problem. “Leave it with me”, she said, either she would get it sorted or, if my private banking manager could fast track it, get him to do it. We then sorted out the contact details for my private banking manager (I had the number 1 digit out for him, this is now fixed). A few other bits and bobs were sorted out meaning the outcome was satisfactory and my ire was quenched. I would not be moving my accounts.

Subsequent to that I’ve had a call from my private banking manager to check that everything was being sorted to my satisfaction and explain what was going to be done to ensure that I got my insurance money.

What I do find slightly ironic is that if I was a normal customer, who probably needs the money to pay a rent cheque, or buy food, I would probably have to jump through no end of hoops to get this sorted. It would be annoying, but not financially catastrophic if I didn’t get this money and they bend over backward to ensure I do get it. Still, I’m not going to complain

Update: So the bank called. They’re refunding me the lost money from the insurance claim and given me a nice bit of compensation. I was actually very nicely surprised

I’ve been with Lloyds TSB for 20 years. Over that time I’ve acquired 2 current accounts, 2 savings accounts, a private banking account, a credit card, an ISA and 2 mortgages via C&G (who are practically Lloyds TSB). Being a private banking member, in the top 5% of earners and having run something like half to three quarters of a millions pounds through their systems means they tend to bend over backwards to please me – not, you understand, due to caring about me personally, although they will claim this. No, I’ve worked in banking, I know what the banks are like and I know they make a lot of money off me, so they want to keep me. I personally have no problems with this; I get a range of benefits out of it and it’s not like any other bank is going to be different.

To give you an idea of the personal treatment I get a few months ago I tried to add The Zozo to my private banking account. We were married so it was time to get a joint account, and it had the added benefit of giving her access to all the perks of the account without increasing the fee. To do this we visited our local branch and spoke to the bank manager. Sadly she didn’t seem to know what to do with a private banking account and, by the end of it, she’d had to create a new account and had only managed to get it as far as a Premier account. The next day my private banking manager phoned me to find out what was going on. I explained the situation and he told me to leave it with him to sort it out. Sadly, since my old account had been cancelled it was going to be quicker and easier to just fix the new account, so that’s the route we took. A few days later and things were mostly sorted. The Zozo still has the wrong card, but she needs to call herself to sort that. We also don’t have the right cheque book, but I can’t remember the last time I wrote a cheque.

Sadly my private banking manager is going to have to work for his money again tomorrow. I’ve got an insurance claim thats been open since march this year. The claim has just been denied. You see, I was claiming against the travel insurance that comes with my account… except the account I had when I made the claim isn’t there any more. And the account I have now wasn’t open when I made the claim. The insurance people are claiming that due to this I’m not covered. I can see their point, except it’s not my fault that my accounts moved during this time and I don’t see why a cock up that the bank made should cost me several hundred pounds. Given the amount this is going to cost me its quite understandable that I am absolutely livid.

So here’s the deal: either my private banking manager fixes the problem so the claim goes through and I get my money; or he otherwise sorts it that I am reimbursed for the amount I’m claiming for; or me, my private banking account, my current accounts, my savings accounts, my ISA, my credit card and my mortgages will all be moving to a new bank, a bank that will also get my daughters new account and the mortgage I take out when we move next.

My guess is that something will be sorted, but just in case they drop the ball here does anyone have any suggestions as to a new home for my money?

There exists, on the internetwebs, various pages claiming that the banana is the atheists worst nightmare. The claim goes that the banana

1. Is shaped for human hand.
2. Has non-slip surface.
3. Has outward indicators of inward content:
   • Green-too early.
   • Yellow-just right.
   • Black-too late.
4. Has a tab for removal of wrapper.
5. Is perforated on wrapper.
6. Bio-degradable wrapper.
7. Is shaped for human mouth.
8. Has a point at top for ease of entry.
9. Is pleasing to taste buds.
10. Is curved towards the face to make eating process easy.

I’m note even going to lower myself to providing the counter arguments for this, plenty of people have done that. Instead I present to you: the baby. The baby was clearly not designed by anyone intelligent:

1. They come out so large it makes childbirth a protracted and traumatic experience.
2. They require feeding every 3 hours, despite the mother needing more than 3 hours sleep.
3. They are incontinent.
4. Their limited vocabulary makes it hard to work out what they want.
5. Unlike most other animals they are born immobile and helpless.
6. They are unable to effectively regulate their body temperature.

If there was intelligent design they’d come flying out with no trauma, would only require 3 meals a day, wouldn’t soil themselves and would be able to indicate what was bothering them. If they were too hot cold they’d be able to manipulate a blanket to adjust their body temperature. if they were designed it was by an idiot… or a sadist

Today marks the start of NaNoWriMo (and Movember, but I look redonculous with a tash so we won’t be doing anything for that), or National Novel Writing Month for long, although “national” is a bit of a misnomer as it went global pretty early on. For those not in the know NaNoWriMo is a competition to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. The even is about quantity, not quality and winning is (as far as I can tell) all about getting all 50,000+ words submitted by midnight on the 30th [which does imply many winners, yes].

I had toyed with the ideal joining in this year since I’d known of a few people who had participated over the last few years. I thought I could write something about the mice, however, this was before I knew about the required word count. I’m not sure what the average word count of my blogs posts is [this one is 397 words long] but I am pretty sure they fall short of the 1500+ words needed every day to hit 50,000 by the end of the month.

There is also the small problem that expanding the exploits of 6 caged animals to 50,000 words will either be repetitive, boring, turgid or all three. Yes, they’ve done some funny thing, escaped once and provided endless entertainment but even with some fictitious personification and interplay between them were still only at novella length.

The biggest problem though was that it would, ultimately, be a depressing tale. There would be two chapters covering when the mice arrived since they came in two batches. Possibly two more with backstory for each batch. 6 chapters covering individual mice and their characters and exploits. A few chapters covering group exploits then 6 chapters detailing the death of each mouse, with the sad tale of Pinkys solitary existence for her last however long she survives for. That’s a high death to story ratio which will made the tail end of the book very depressing.

The purpose behine NaNoWriMo is to get people to do creative writing and I think I’m already fairly creative here, albeit not as prolific as 50,000 words in a month, so I shall pass and spend my train journeys trying to cram in all the other things I should be doing and all the things I want to be doing instead.

I am at times what you could charitably call “softly spoken”. The meaner among you might claim I mumble. It comes from not wanting to be a loud oaf and the premise that I can hear what I’m saying perfectly well. This generally happens in public places and when I’m feeling self conscious.

Sadly, as previously mentioned, I feel self conscious when talking to a phone. Couple this we me starting to speak to early for Siri and the fact that it’s not 100% accurate and you start getting some interesting responses.

The Zozo absolutely loves Siri, although not as a personal assistant. No, to her Siri is a constant source of amusement. “Remind me to pack Colin at 7am tomorrow morning” [Colin being my current Lovefilm DVD rental] resulted in a 7am reminder for “Meatpacker Colin”. “Cool, heading home” has been turned into “Call Ashton” and when it did recognise what I said I wasn’t after “T” being added to be shopping list. What The Zozo finds most hysterical though is the numerous occasions where I say something to the phone and it simply goes “I’m sorry Dom, I did not understand you”. it’s enough to give a person a complex.

It makes you wonder why you don’t get similar mishaps happening in the future. You never get captain Kirk going “Shields up! Red alert” and the computer responding “Shields are now up, but I could not find ‘Alert’ in your reading list to mark it as read. Should I order it from the Amazon Kindle store?”. The closest you get it HAL refusing to open the pod bay doors and while that was an AI deliberately pretending not to hear one can’t help but wonder if that kind of intelligence doesn’t already exist in computers given how bloody minded they can be.

To give you an idea of how badly Siri and I cope together I’ll try typing, dictating and then Dictating With My Deliberate Enunciated Voice which is like my best handwriting for speech and you can compare the 3. Obviously this will need to be done at home where I can be slightly less self conscious as there is no way in hell that’s happening on a train

My Most Excellent Man¹ has written a book about his moving away from the city and living on a small holding² with what seems to be an inordinate amount of goats, sheep, pigs and sundry other beasties, most of which fall under the category of ‘lunch’³. Personally I think he is insane and although he will [eventually] have a beautiful barn conversion it will have involved living on a building site for years, cost him a fortune and seen him doing something like 4 hour round commutes to work. To top it off he and his wife are talking about selling the place when they’re done and starting again. Never understood the whole ‘build a dream home then sell it instead of living in it’ thing. Still, he seems to be happy.

Anyway, returning back to the book, when I found out about it I offered to read through it and make any corrections I deemed necessary. This was a purely selfish act you understand, since I wanted to make sure I featured heavily in the tale, preferably as some kind of hero figure. It’s a good thing I did too, I had to make some serious edits to even get myself included and even then I’m just a bit part. I also had to rectify his serious aversion to the full stop. Now, I know I’m a bit free and easy with punctuation and I abuse the poor comma something chronic but none of you pay to be here and, more importantly, I’m not submitting this to professional editors for review who would, truth be told, rip this poor blogs to shreds for being inconsistent, poorly written and riddled with typos⁵. So, for what seemed like eons (editing a book takes waaaaaaay longer than just reading it) I took my virtual red pen on my laptop and crossed out… well, not quite most of the book, but a large chunk of it.

We’re now on round 2 (actually, he’s probably on round 3 by now and talking to publishers, I’ve been sat on the revision for a while definitely meaning to look at it) but this time I have a new weapon: my iPad. I’ve got a PDF editing program and the PDFs of the book uploaded onto it so I can now sit on the train and edit away without need for laptop or table. This should greatly improve the speed at which I get through things as its term time and table seats are harder to get on the homeward leg of the journey.

But that’s not the only new and exciting thing. I’ve now got tethering on my phone. What this means is that I can connect to the internetwebs while on the move on both my laptop and my iPad by connecting them to the phone which means, in theory, you’ll be seeing this and future posts arriving before I’ve got to the office⁶. All very exciting.

But even that isn’t everything. The arrival of tethering on my contract is due to a change in contract. The change in contract is due to a new contract being taken out and the new contract is due to a new phone. Yup, admittedly a little late than, well, pretty much everyone else I know, I shall be getting an iPhone 4S which should be delivered to the office some time today. It’s all very exciting and I’m looking forward to playing with the features on the way home.

All of which leads me to the point of this post which is, in point of fact, simply a long winded way of explaining that I won’t actually be starting on the book edit until tomorrow, despite promising to start today⁷. Sorry

¹ The plate of sashimi that rivalled Ben Nevis in size and height served between 2 on my stag do elevated him from simply being ‘Best’.
² Where I am lead to believe that he holds small things.
³ And a very nice lunch and/or⁴ dinner and/or breakfast some of them have made.
⁴ My inner geek wants to replace and/or with logical OR ( || ) given it’s the same truth table as and/or. My inner geek will be told to shush, although its retaliating by now wanting to include XOR or XNOR in the text somewhere. One can only apologise for it.
⁵ Nono, it’s true, I can handle the criticism.
⁶ Although to be fair I won’t be uploading anything on the walk to work as the iPad is bit unwieldy when on the move and gets shoved in the bag while I use the phone instead so if I’m not ready to post as we pull in, or if I’m doing something else, you’re still going to have to wait. That’s just life I’m afraid.
⁷ Yes, I could have written a shorter post and got on with things this morning, but seriously, where is the fun in that?