Unusual Elements

The chemist, Humphrey Davy was a poet.  Coleridge said of him, that if he “had not been the first chemist, he would have been the first poet of his age,”. Perhaps it was the poetical elements of his nature that meant he was searingly troubled by the numbers of coal miners losing their lives.  Because of inflammable gases in mines, there were countless explosions.  In response to this crisis, he invented the Davy lamp in 1815 which puts wire gauze in between the flame and the outer wall.  Here comes the science…

 ”The underlying principle of the  safety lamp is that the gauze cools any flame passing through it, so that the  temperature outside the lamp is lower than the temperature required to ignite  any surrounding flammable gas. If the lamp is placed in an explosive  atmosphere, such as a mixture of air and methane gas as commonly found in a coal mine, the  explosion that takes place when the flame contacts the gas is contained within  the gauze mesh and does not cause a danger to the miners.”

 This is the lamp that kept my Grandfather safe.  And it is this lamp, not improved upon in nearly 200 years, that is used to house the Olympic flame.  Perhaps it’s a fittingly bardic tribute.

Add a comment May 27, 2012

“All Kinds of Everything”….

…to quote from Dana‘s 1970 winning Eurovision song.  But, in fact, all kinds of infringments of human rights law have been discovered in Azerbaijan where Saturday evening’s programme is due to take place.  What should the UK do?  Should it pull out of performing in a country where right to a fair trial, freedom of speech and association and the right to a private life are non-existent?

I don’t think so.  We might never have had these problems highlighted otherwise.  The Song Contest has become a rather unlikely, but nevertheless effective, instrument of social justice.

If it takes a bit of boom-bang-a-bang to blow the cover on Azerbaijan’s human rights abuses, then hoorah for Eurovision.

Add a comment May 24, 2012

Fanning the Flames

The Olympic torch nears Wales just as the mystery emu in Maesycymmer has been found.  It had escaped from a small holding onto a golf course and hit an RSPCA warden before being captured.  A bit like Michael Parkinson  with Rod Hull’s puppet…

Add a comment May 22, 2012

Home is where the Plaque is

On the way to Paddington station yesterday, I noticed a blue plaque I hadn’t seen before – to Florence Nightingale. I do like seeing them in random parts of the city.  They make me feel a bit joined up with the swirling life of the capital.

It got me thinking about blue plaques….did you know that they have been around since 1866 and the first one ever commemorated the house of Lord Byron?  Of course, they have now spread to other cities.  Cardiff has a blue plaque on the house of Ivor Novello, but somehow, like black cabs, I always associate them with London.

There are now about 850 plaques there.  But who, from our own generation will add to this number and merit a blue plaque?

Add a comment May 17, 2012

You’re sure of a big surprise……

This cartoon which I just came across was originally published in the Washington Post on November 16th, 1902.  It shows President Theodore Roosevelt, a passionate bear hunter, refusing to shoot a tethered bear – he claimed that he wouldn’t be able to look his children in the eye if he shot the defenceless creature.

The Michtoms were toy makers who read the Washington Post.  They instantly created a little bear from cloth which they stuffed with sawdust and put it in their shop window together with the cartoon and a sign, ‘Teddy’s Bear’.  It sold immediately.

So the hunter became commercial prey; and someone who was once the most powerful man in the world is made immortal in a cute toy. Probably, no one would be more surprised than he was himself.

Add a comment May 14, 2012

Welcome to Our World

This evening, in the Sherman Theatre I flew away.  A take on Aristophanes’ ‘The Birds’ made me soar.  The Unusual Stage School showed how disabled people, in glorious variety and splendid plumage, can create a reality where strife does not exist.  Making Aristophanes’ script,

Hear us, you who are no more than leaves always falling, you mortals benighted by nature,

You enfeebled and powerless creatures of earth always haunting a world of mere shadows,

Entities without wings, insubstantial as dreams, you ephemeral things, you human beings:

Turn your minds to our words, our etherial words, for the words of the birds last forever!

relevant to a society that is too intolerant of diversity. And the remarkable thing was that this wasn’t delivered in a solemn, preachy way.  Instead, there were gales of laughter – my friend Rosie may have missed her vocation –  and I felt more a guest than an audience member.

 I think this is because Ian came round with a basket of feathers before the 50 minute play started.  He gave one to everyone.  After weighing me up, he chose a pink feather for me.  And, by giving me the feather, I did feel that Ian was welcoming me into his world.

If you flap your wings, you can still get tickets for tomorrow’s performances at 2pm and 8pm.  Phone the Sherman on 029 2064 6900

Add a comment May 11, 2012

The Sign on the Pearly Gates

Forget Jane Austen, forget Tolstoy, forget Dickens, the greatest opening of a book belongs to Maurice Sendak, who died today, in ‘The Sign on Rosie’s Door’.  It goes something like this,

“There was a sign on Rosie’s door.  It read, ‘If you want to know a secret, knock three times.’ Kathy knocked three times and Rosie opened the door. ‘Hello Rosie.  What’s the secret?’ ‘I’m not Rosie any more.  That’s the secret.’ ‘Then who are you?’ asked Kathy…”

I find it as compulsive a start now as I did when Aunty Amy Quick gave me a copy as I was recuperating from measles.  Thank you Mr. Sendak.

Add a comment May 8, 2012

Happy Hour

  On Saturday, I saw the Globe Theatre’s ‘Henry V’ at the New Theatre where the phrase ‘happy hour’ comes from.  I love its mixture of history and anecdote, comedy and tragedy, war and love.  And I never know who will win the battle of Agincourt until the play finishes even though it was all over in reality by 1415.

Then, at a pub quiz last night, one of the questions was, “Who died first, Romeo or Juliet?” We had to work it out, piecing together school productions, exam texts and distant performances.

 It struck me that one of the main players in my weekend has been a man who was born in 1564.  Verily, the influence of the bard is alive and well and in North Cardiff!

Add a comment May 7, 2012

It’s a Lottery

Since joining the office lottery syndicate today, I have been asking myself, ‘but what would I do?’  And, I’m glad to say, it hasn’t taken me long to answer.  So, here are my initial thoughts:

• employ a cook/housekeeper

• employ a chauffeur/gardener

• open a boutique business specialising in all aspects of disability – employment, service provision, tourism, benefits claims, life coaching, where I would work part-time

• have a Mews flat in London

I think that’s it for now.  But that syndicate has turned the leaden drizzly office outlook into one that is coloured as brightly as Monopoly money.  And I haven’t started playing yet……

Add a comment May 1, 2012

Thou Shalt Not

Twice today, I have bumped into that stern, old-testament law giver, Moses.  How remarkable is that?  First, I was reading about how he is behind modern day liberalism, rather than being just the bearded enigma who parted the Red Sea and brought the Ten Commandments from Mount Sinai.  One of the texts that the novelist, Marilynne Robinson used was from the book of Deuteronomy where Moses is giving instructions about poverty,

“Because there shal be ever some poor in the land, therefore I commande thee, saying, ‘Thou shalt open thy hand unto thy brother, to thy nedie, and to thy poore in thy land.’”

Which wasn’t entirely what I expected Moses to declaim.

Then, this afternoon, I came across him again in the church at Llanfair Kilgeddin, whose walls are covered with early 20th century ‘sgraffito’.  This, apparently, is a technique where you paint five layers of colour on a wall, and then create pictures by scraping the walls to make the design you want.  A bit like that thing with wax crayons we did in primary school.  Anyway, there, just in the chancel, from deep within the wall, was Moses.

I really should not make assumptions about this relevant, profound, colourful man.

Add a comment April 28, 2012