Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Meerschaum Pipes

My stately new Meerschaum pipe

Sometimes I like to enjoy the finer things in life. Having stopped smoking cigarettes I do enjoy a pipe of tobacco with my wine a few times a week. I've been smoking wooden pipes made from briar however I've always fancied the romantic notion of a carved meerschaum pipe.

Meerschaum pipes are made from a mineral known as Magnesium Silicate derived from Bituminus Shale. Meerschaum comes from the German for 'sea foam' in respect that it is white, very light and found on the coast of the sea.

Meerschaum is mined or found in liver shaped lumps covered with hard clay. The lumps are washedto remove the clay, dried for about 10 hours and then graded into sixty different grades of size and quantity. After grading the Meerschaum is waxed, packed in cotton wool and sent to the pipe maker.

The pipe maker must immerse the meerschaum in water for several hours to soften it to a cheese-like consistency prior to carving. After the pipehas been bored and shaped, it is immersed in tallow and beeswax for many hours, then dried and re-waxed. Top grade meerschaum pipes can go through this process eight times. The wax in the meerschaum is the main source of color.

Above is my new meerschaum pipe which I purchased yesterday since the bowl is smaller and sometimes I feel like a small bowl of tobacco while sipping on my red wine.

I felt rather regal with my king style pipe until Elina brought me crashing down to earth by saying it looked like the king in the Burger King ads.

I will show her when I order a self-portrait style pipe;

http://altinokpipe.com/portraitpipe.asp

......................... Of course she'll probably say it's Morrissey, Tom Jones or Englebert Humperdinck.

Hauskaa Joulua: Merry Christmas Finnish style

Playing the kantele

I know this is British Expats but being a Brit whose other half is Finnish I'm recording this entry for posterity at the very least.

With my two sons being half Finnish and with the older one attending Finnish school to embroil himself in the Finnish cultural side of his heritage, last night was the annual Finnish Christmas fair at the LA Finnish club in North Hollywood, CA. , which I would nver known had existed had it not been for one night on the pull many years ago, but I digress.

The club reminded me of a rusticly Finnish wheeltappers and shunters/British legion with numerous posters displaying Finlands natural scenic beauty.

The annual christmas celebration started with the agenda being handed out in Finnish, which I can only speak a few words of , so when it came time for the carols it did save me having to follow along to the words, and the embarresment of singing, which my neighbors seated next to me were no doubt extremely greatful for.

Some of the women then played some music on a kantele which is like a Finnish harp or lute, this was prefaced by the instruments historical folklore. Legend has it that some Finns caught a massive fish and after the were done made a beautiful instrument from the jawbone with maidens hair for strings, thankfully this was explained in English, unless the folklore story of old made me temporarily able to comprehend the Finnish language, but I'm pretty sure it was the former.

Singing Finnish carols( my kid in blue on right)

Next on the agenda came our little darlings singing a Finnish carol and shaking some little thing with bells on it, I found it interesting that Finnish carols are more melancholy as opposed to the joyous celebratory tones of the traditional English ones.

After the hyms there was a grand entrance from a rather diminutive Joulupukki( Santa Claus) giving out presents to all the kids.

Finally there was a traditional Finnish Christmas dinner which was washed down with red wine from the very inexpensive bar, featuring glasses of red wine at $2.50 each. Traditional christmas dinner consisted of the following;

Kinkku (sliced ham),Lanttulaatikko(rutabaga casserole),porkkanalaatikko(carrot casserole),maksalaatikko(liver casserole with raisins) this was my favorite which was like a cross between breadpudding and  liverpate with raisins, lipeakala( dried salt cod soaked in lye, then boiled), rosolli( beef, apple,potato, herring and pickle salad) and ruisleipa(rye bread), for dessert was purro ya hedelmakeitto(porridge and fruit soup), no gravy was served and I think the rather bland menu reflected Finland's rather austere geography and history unlike Englands richer food, but of course I am biased.

An interesting night out not understanding a word and eating bland food with no spice, but at least the bar was cheap.

Now they are 49

At the risk of appearing  to turn this blog into Film 2006 here's another movie review.  I really thought this was worth adding to my blog since I have followed the 'Up series' since originally seeing it on World in Action in the UK from 14 or 21 Up, I can't really recall. I have the boxed set of all the documentary series' which follows a group of people taken from a cross section of British society starting in 1964, then catching up with them every seven years.

  To me this should be adopted by schools as required watching for all  children and teenagers. Developmentally and socially it is just as important as Shakespeare, Dickens, Austin, Bronte or Orwell's books are amongst many of the UK's school ciriculum's.

 The documentaries highlight the impact that people's choices in life have on them juxtaposed with their social background and status, from their earliest childhood years through teenage, early adulthood and now through maturity and late middle age, the footage provides a powerful tool for young people unsure what direction to take in life. Some children started life out  in orphanages, others in private, expensive boarding schools and everywhere in-between.

As far as the latest movie goes I found it  both poignant and a little depressing. Poignant to once more be updated on the people's lives, almost like seeing old friends again. Depressing as the wide eyed children and exubarent youths have now become overweight, balding and in some cases sick adults. The expectancy and adventure shown in previous episodes, even as recently as 42 up seven years ago have now become complacency, accepting their lot in life, good, bad or indifferent. Too mature to make drastic changes many now live vicariously through children and/or grandchildren.

 I guess the underlying depression I felt as I watched this installment unfold is due to the fact that I  myself am 42 whilst viewing this episode, and it  seems even more relevant that  life is short, I'm not far away from my very own '49 up episode' myself. The film allowed not only short reflection on the lives of the characters, but on my own mortality too I suppose.

The one common theme that left an impression on me was the importance of family as a recurring theme in most of the men and women's lives, not just how they had faired financially and socially.

Please watch this episode and the whole series if you have a chance, perhaps it might be an overstatement to say that it's too important to miss, but that would only be a slight exaggeration on a true piece of television documentary history. 

The new 007 James Blonde

A Brief History of Wanking

I've just finished my PhD on wanking and submit my thesis for your approval, anyone that says I cut and pasted this is a liar.

1st to 17th centuries:

	1st century CE: The Romans began to use the words "masturbor" and "masturbator." The origins of these words is unknown.
	4th century CE: A passage in the Jewish Talmud notes: "every hand that 'checks' [the genitals] frequently — if by a woman, it is praiseworthy, but if by a man it should be cut off."
	13th century CE: Christian philosopher Albertus Magnus recommended that pubescent girls rub their clitorises in order to reduce temptation to engage in intercourse, and thus preserve their chastity.
	17th century CE: An early English dictionary defines "mastuprate" as "dishonestly to touch one’s privates."

NYC

Finally, after living in the US for nearly 20 years I visited New York for a four day trip, what can I say apart from "I should have went sooner"................ absolutely brilliant, and here's why.

The people - I know I'm generalising however I was amazed by the difference in the people from one coast to another. In LA there's little to no sense of humor, comeback, banter. In NY the people I met in bars, restaurants and stores had some comeback and witty retorts. A breath of fresh air instead of the egocentric, all about me, gone Hollywood folks I encounter on the West Coast. The amount of street life was a refreshing change, people actually walk, interact and talk to each other rather than being trapped by themselves in endless commuter cars, as is the case in Los Angeles.

The architecture - One's eyes cannot rest, not knowing where to feast themselves next. The buildings, art deco, museums, it seems every doorway, roof and window has something to offer. The two iconoclasts of art deco design which are the Chrysler building & Empire State building truely are wonderful, not to mention the feats of modern engineering which are the Brooklyn & George Washington Bridges.

Central Park - Absolutely great for a day out where you can jog, boat, ice-skate, eat, drink or just relax  people-watch and take in the scenery.

I think my favorite areas were Central Park, SoHo and Greenwich Village, conversely my least favorite were Little Italy (offering food which does not even come close to it's older parent)  and Chinatown with it's tacky t-shirts and souviners.

I  elected to spend almost a full day of my four day trip in a museum and chose the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I was not disappointed however a full three days would have been needed to take everything in. John Singer Sargent, Van Gogh, Caravaggio, Remington, Vermeer were the works of art that left the most lasting impressions, with Van Gogh imparting a rich emotional experience upon viewing the works of his obviously tortured soul.

 But it wasn't all artsy fartsy, each day was also interlaced with lots of hilarity. The various loony characters on the subway, a Chinese lady with the worst teeth I've ever seen, pissing ourselves laughing at a guy with the largest fattest head which resembled a grotesque Humpty Dumpty all afforded some light relief from the sightseeing.

My two favorite incidents were;

Meeting Michael Caine and consequently informing a very drunk New Yorker that Sir Michael was in the bar, the guy stumbled over to buy him a drink, walked past the spectacled actor and started talking to some old guy in the corner. He came back to the bar to be  greeted with much hilarious derision by myself and my buddy, then was presented with a bill for the Grand Marnier he had just bought the stranger in the corner..............

Standing outside a restaurant chatting with a  Puerta Rican girl who was smoking whilst she was sitting on the edge of a concrete planter, the owner of the restaurant was a very overweight Jewish grandmother-like lady. Upon noticing the girl had squashed some of her plants and before getting into her awaiting taxi she unleashed a string of unexpected expletives  to the girl, exclaiming "look at my fucking plants you fucking fuck you". Whereupon the girl very sweetly replied " I like your dress, you look really nice tonight".............. the dress was a large flowery muu-muu.

Great trip and a truely great city..

Guinness and memories

I recently got to revisit  one of my favorite places in the world in The Crown Bar in the center of Belfast City. It does a great pint of Guinness and attracts many tourists from all over the world in addition to locals after work and at the weekends. It's not the kind of place that would attract many 20 odd year olds looking for fast paced nightlife but has that kind of warm familiarity that can only be found in a British pub.

My last visit only added to already fond memories of  numerous previous visits with freinds and family, however this time the visit was more poignant and a little sad.

I was with my father who has recently been taken ill and prompted my visit to my parents city of Belfast. As I stood there drinking a pint of Guinness I thought how strange it seemed that Dad ( who like most Irishmen always likes a few drinks) could only manage a couple of halves due to his illness. He also revealed that it had been the last pub he drank in the night before he left to live in England in the early 1960's, where myself and my 3 sisters were consequently born and raised, he also told me how he was violently ill on 'the boat over' after too many beers and rough seas the next day.

Since I moved to the States in 1987 all my immediate family have since returned to Belfast in the mid 1990's.

I have took the liberty of purloining some comments and pictures on the history of the Crown, well worth a visit if you ever find yourself in Northern Ireland.

The Crown Bar is unbelievably rich in colour and design that each time you go in you’ll find something new to catch your eye that you had missed before.

Where else would you find a lovely burnished primrose yellow,red and gold ceiling, a floor laid in a myriad of mosaic tiles,brocaded walls ubiquitous highly patterned tiles, vigorous wood carvings throughout, ornate mirrors, wooden columns with Corinthian capitals and feathered motifs in gold?

Painted and etched glass is everywhere you look, vivid in amber and carmine painted shells, fairies, pineapples, fleurs-de-lis and clowns incidentally,the colourful decorative windows fronting the bar were originally intended to shield customers from inquisitive passers-by.

The long Balmoral red granite-topped ‘Alter’ bar is divided by columns and faced with gaily coloured tiles and a heated foot rest. Look out for the huge casks with their polished brass taps. Save for the inscriptions in English on the Mahogany cabinet behind the bar

-: High Class Whiskey - Direct Importers - Special Wines :-

It might be something out of the Arabian Nights or a Bohemian setting akin to Ballf’s Marble Halls.

Yet the glittering exuberant feeling, in all it’s detail still remains within the bounds of good taste in a scene that has remained un-changed for over a Century.

The 'Snug' Habit
Another great delight in this magical place is the ten different shaped, cosy and elaborately carved wooden Boothes, lettered from A-J. In the snugs you will find gun metal plates for striking matches, and an antique bell system (this used to be very common in Victorian Houses where servants were employed), which alerts bar staff to your liquid needs. Drinking snugs according to old records were not originally built for comfort, but to accommodate those people who preferred to drink quietly and unseen.

‘To slip in for a quick one’ obviously referred to those reserved or shy individuals who may have held opinions on public houses, but at the same time, still like to drink, provided no-one saw him or her taking it. Those people are few and far between now: nevertheless the ‘snug’ habit very much remains with us and even in the most modern bar you will still find a version of this quaint drinking department, but it is still a snug or box- to use the colloquial name. It is no wonder that much revolutionary conspiracy and many clandestine meetings took place in these little snugs.

The Crown is both ageless and priceless, a gem of Victoriana and without doubt one of the greatest bars in the World.
The Crown Liquor Saloon in Great Victoria Street, Belfast was perhaps the greatest of Victorian Gin Palaces which once flourished in the industrial cities of Britain.Today wonderfully preserved, the Crown is cherished and still well used by the people of Belfast. It is owned by the National Trust and managed by Six Continents Retail Limited. The National Trust made the decision to purchase this exotic property in 1978 ( Sir John Betjeman, the late Poet Laureate, played a crucial role in the Trust’s decision.) In 1981 the Trust carried out a sympathetic restoration, and it took the sum of approximately £400,000 to restore the bar to its full Victorian splendour.

It is now a unique visual gem, a veritable masterpiece in bar architecture, which has the distinction of being known to millions all over the world. The Crown is famous as a tourist venue in the heart of Belfast, and the pub dates back to 1826, when the first train ran from Belfast to Lisburn.

It was then known as the Railway Tavern and was owned by Felix O’Hanlon; he sold it to Michael Flanagan, but it was Michael’s son, Patrick, who was destined to make it famous. A student of architecture, he travelled widely, and was impressed by what he saw. He arrived home with ideas to brighten up the old family bar.

Distinctive Italian Craftsmanship
The year 1885 was an era of emancipation in Ireland, which saw a sharp increase in the building of Catholic churches.

Skilled craftsmen from Italy were brought into the North of Ireland and Patrick persuaded some of these tradesmen to supplement their income by moonlighting on the building of his saloon.

These Italian craftsmen were responsible for the tiling, glasswork and rich ornamental woodwork which turned Patrick’s dream into reality, and gave the Crown it’s distinctive character.

No wonder, at times when the sun beams strongly through the stained-glass windows, you would think you were in a church.

This impression is also enhanced by the wonderful combination of snugs, which look at times like confessional boxes, and the stained-glass, of course, suggests a baroque church interior, rather than a bar. The exterior façade of the bar is a riot of polychromatic tiles, which clearly hint at the box of delights to be found within.

The kiss of the sun for pardon

and so on goes the poem by Dorothy Gurney, who died the year I was born. This describes how I feel.

I have become a gardener-not a "Master Gardener", but at least an enthusiastic amateur. I have been buying plants the way some women shop for clothes, the better the bargain, the more thrilled me. It's become an obsession admittedly, weekends are spent visiting garden centers, surfing for garden forums, buying garden books and magazines. Sunday is the day when I devote myself to working outside, which is ever so much more fun than doing housework inside.

I do not have a drop dead gorgeous yard, overcoming nine years of neglect and acclimating to the hot Georgia summers is not accomplished immediately. I figure it will take three years to whip things into shape.The nice thing is that I have what is known as a blank slate for the most part, the previous owners of my house did little in the way of landscaping. There were some azaleas and a few other shrubs, but nothing spectacular.Since I plan to stay in this house until I am carried out, I thought that I needed to reclaim and improve upon things and that has been slow going.

 I thought since my husband was English and everyone knows that the English are mad for gardening, that I would have an enthusiastic partner in my endeavor. The gardening gene seems to have escaped my husband so this has been a singular work by me, an army of one.

Fortunately, not being picky about what work a woman can or should do, I am out there, sawing down trees, hauling branches and bags of soil and stone. The trunk of my car has enough dirt in it to be a flowerbed and I REALLY need a pickup or something along those lines.

 Weird plants are my forte-it's what I hunt for and what I do try to incorporate into the scheme. Yes, I do have the afore mentioned azaleas (a Georgia garden prerequisite), and gardenias, also very popular in the south, but I am trying to push the envelope with some tropical plants that are not necessarily cold hardy in my "zone". The other extreme is my hunt for a lilac that will flourish here, one of my favorite and best memories of growing up in New England. Lilacs and the southern climate do not play well together. Fall or autumn rekindles longing for the colors that I took for granted in my youth and am trying to recreate now, since once again the climate is not conducive to northern trees. Japanese maples are as close as I can come to that and those little beauties are not cheap.

 It has been a process of much work, a little blood, alot of sweat and a few tears, but it is soul satisfying, and stressfree and those are things you learn to value or should. 

JRR Tolkein

JRR Tolkien lived until his eightieth year before reaching fame with his fantasy trilogy The Lord of the Rings. One of the most successful literary phenomena the world has ever known, it has sold many millions of copies, been translated into a hit series of films and spawned some of the saddest fantasy artwork ever seen.

How did Tolkien come to create his great land of goblins and elks, Morlocks and Ewoks? To find the answer we have to go back to his childhood in Bloemfontein, South Africa.

Tolkien in 1971 at the age of 79.

Childhood Tragedy
Born in 1890, John Roger Roger Tolkien's early years in South Africa were uneventful. His mother, an African Princess and circus contortionist, committed suicide in a tragic accident in the ring. She was buried in a coffin only two feet square, in a ceremony presided over by his father, an Anglican priest with transvestite tendencies.

After this tragedy the family moved to England, where Tolkien studied Anglo-saxon philosophy at Oxbridge University, Cambridge. There he met Malcom Muggeridge, erstwhile Philosopher and part time Toblerone Salesman, who was to have a great influence expanding the youngster's developing mind. In 1981 Muggeridge recalled:

"One saw this tanned, slim chap across the playing field, talking gaily to some college triple-jumpers. From the angle of his stance I could tell he had a sizeable intellect, and I knew at once that he would be a firm friend."

Muggeridge took young John under his wing, and they studied the classics together late into the night. For his final year Tolkien specialized in Chaucer, writing the foreword to the 1915 edition of The Aromatherapist's Tale which won the Nobel Prize for Most inpenetrable Foreword in 1930.

One of Tolkien's first drawings, of an elf,

revealing the heartache he suffered

after the death of his mother.

Influences
After graduating Tolkien taught at the university for a further forty years, alongside such luminaries as CS Lewis (author of The Chronic Narnia) and Charles Williams, inventor of black boot polish. These friends created a writing club called The Inklings, and thus, immersed in academia, Tolkien began to confuse English folklore and mythology with real life. Constantly spurred on by his equally sexually frustrated academic colleagues, he invented the fantasy world of Middle Earth, the language of the Elves, characters like Aragorn the Straddler, Bent Bob Bombadil, and the evil Klingons.

The Hobbit
His first book, The Hobbit, was published in 1937. It concerned the journey of little Bilbo Baggins, who finds a terrible ring of power, puts it on his finger and comes over all queer. Chased by evil alien Gollum, Baggins drops the ring in a puddle and goes back home.

The Lord of the Rings
Following on from this, Tolkien's epic The Lord of the Rings was a work for adults. It was published in three parts, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers (named, with extraordinary lack of sensitivity, after the terrible events in New York over forty years later), and The Return of The King. In this tale Bilbo's son Frodo discovers the ring and runs across Middle Earth, chased once again by Gollum and the Dark Lord Saruman. Due to its success with ordinary people it proved unpopular with critics.

Donald Humphrey in the Daily Telegraph wrote:

"What a pile of Pants"

The Silmarillion
Tolkien struggled to complete his last great work — The Silmarillion — before his death. Told in quasi-biblical language, it chronicles the legend of the thirteen Silmarils through three hundred centuries of Middle Earth history. On publication it received mixed reviews. Some say it contains some of the most sublimely beautiful prose-poetry published in English:

Fonwé Urion son of Manwe, love of Urüwan shalt in time be Melko's bane, and such things shalt be thusly and in this wise told in the hearts of men. The time is not ready for the rising forth, obtained through Ulmo with the help of Uïn, across a magic bridge of Sound. Now, Thingol said, therefore we must hence toward the Encircling Mountains afore Amon Gwáreth releases his monsters of Iron including them Balrogs and that.

"I'm up for that, come on Engerlund", said Uïn, and off they went.

— The Fall of Turambar and the Foalókë

Others say that it's the product of a man with a poor social life and too much time on his hands. However, the book became a cult hit with the new breed of students, who read into the tales a philosophy of free love and drug worship, or anything else they fancied doing. Such was the appetite for The Silmarillion that on the day of publication, over twelve copies were sold (although most were subsequently returned).

Fans like to dress up

as characters from Middle Earth,

The Legacy 
This was just the start of the Tolkien phenomenon. During his lifetime he had amassed an enormous body of work. Under the editorship of his son Christopher, these archives were posthumously published as The History of Middle Earth in 237 volumes, with a twelve volume index and 320-volume glossary. To date only one complete set has been sold, as part of a book club introductory offer.

Tolkien died in 1972. In his will he left his entire estate to King Aïnwèlint of the Forest of Mablüng.

A scene from The Two Towers movie adaptation.

Note the Tower of Isinguard in the distance.

The elves have been superimposed using

state-of-the-art blue-screen effects.

Bibliography
The Hobbit (1937)
The Lord of the Rings (1955)
The Silmarillion (1972)

Published posthumously
Sir Gawain, the Green Knight and Other Crappy Poems (1973)
The Book of Lost And Subsequently Rediscovered Tales I-23 (1974-2002)
The Instructions of Benylin (1975)
Unfinished Tales (1977)
The Tolkien Desk Diary (1980-2002)
Middle Earth Calendar (1980-2002)
The Post-it Notes of JRR Tolkien (1987)
Poor Soil: Gardening in Mordor (1997)
Frodo Baggins' DIY Secrets (2000)
Gandalf's Book of the World Cup 2002 (2002)
Unstarted Tales (NYP)

8 Track Recordings 
The Benga bus is coming (Mordor Mix)- P Diddy v JRR. (1995)

Nicely Plagiarised and reworked by me from a Helena Fitzroy article, so there :)

Rolling chav style

In preperation for the England World Cup games I decided to chav my Jaguar out with various St. George crosses. I would probably view someone else that I saw in a similar car as a complete chav, taking a classicconvertible Jaguar and covering it in flags, but what the hell, it's only a bit of fun every four years. Of course I will feel more of an idiot driving around in my car if and when England loose. What are the odds that my car will still be decorated come the July 9th World Cup final?.............. pretty slim having watched England's three games to date.