Not quite The Truman Show

Jim Carrey’s fabulous film The Truman Show is what the Disney experience should be like.  It’s not quite there.

As we were walking around Disneyland Paris I found myself noticing the imperfections.  I know I should have been swept up in the sugar-coated fun and excitement but I was noticing the flaking paint, the faded colours, the peeling decals, the mould, the less than perfectly saccharin staff attitude and the graffiti.

I think portraying perfection is something that Disney thinks it does well, which is why it needs more people looking for the detail and a bigger maintenance budget.

I know most people won’t spot the flaws that I found (I’ve been told I’m picky) but it’s the thin end of the wedge and, if others notice a fraction of what I noticed, it starts to shatter the illusion.

What’s the difference…

What’s the difference between Bing Crosby and Walt Disney?

Bing sings but Walt Disney.

No?  Try a Scottish accent. 

Still no?  Never mind.

Went to Disneyland Paris this week and I’ve got it sussed.  We spent a lot of time queueing, not surprising for anyone who has been to Disney.  I was trying to figure out why on some rides, even though the queue caused waits of about 45 minutes, not all of the ride was open meaning the ride wasn’t operating at full capacity.  And then I sussed it.

Disney’s main business, theme park-wise, is crowd control.  It’s possible to occupy more people for longer by keeping them in a queue than letting them queue for a short time, do the ride and then get out ready for another queue.  By keeping people queueing unnecessarily in rides where there is additional capacity Disney manage to reduce the queues for rides where there is no additional capacity.

Cynical, moi?

Artificial or not

I've argued for a sign on photoshopped images used in advertising but another thought has occurred to me. What if the image hasn't been altered but the person in the image has had cosmetic surgery? Should the image similarly be marked to show it's not natural?

Kulula branding

Following on from yesterday I thought you might want to see the livery for the Kulula aircraft.  Enjoy.

My favourite airline

I’m cheating a bit as this came into my inbox today and I thought it was worth sharing.

Kulula is an airline with head office situated in Johannesburg.  Kulula airline attendants make an effort to make the in-flight "safety lecture" and announcements a bit more entertaining. Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:

On another flight with a very "senior" flight attendant crew, the pilot said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants."

After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in the Karoo, a flight attendant on a flight announced, "Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as hell everything has shifted."

"In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child travelling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are travelling with more than one small child, pick your favourite."

"Your seats cushions can be used for flotation; and in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments."

"As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings.
Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants.
Please do not leave children or spouses."

And from the pilot during his welcome message: "Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!"

Heard on a Kulula flight. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing. If you can light 'em, you can smoke 'em."

Where’s the truth?

I went to see my old team today.  A work-related trip but it was nice to catch lunch and just catch up with people.

As Jane greeted my she complimented me on my hair.  Which was lovely of her.  And I don’t mean that in a patronising way.  Hear me out.

I am long overdue at the hairdressers.  I did get my roots sorted recently because with this level of “platinum highlights” it’s important to cover them up regularly.  But I haven’t actually had my hair cut for ages.  I feel my hair is lank and in need of a sorting out.  I sort of feel that my hair needs a boost in the same way my wardrobe gets a boost every time I get a fix of personal shopping.

So I felt that Jane was being kind, in the same way that when someone has had a hair dressing disaster, friends will comfort with phrases like “Well, it’s different.” or  “Wow, what do you think?” or even “Wow, you’ve had your hair cut.”  So it was a friendly thing that Jane did, to make me feel better than I looked or felt.

Tracey, this evening, and I’ve known Tracey forever, said “Are you OK?  You look tired.”  Well I am bloody tired.  Knackered actually.  I know it’s not acceptable to admit that and whenever someone asks “How are you?” the only acceptable response is “Terrific” or “Marvellous” or “Great.”  Well I don’t.  I feel run down, tired, lacking in energy and my face shows it.  I have dark circles under my eyes and to say I was fine would be to deny the evidence in front of Tracey’s eyes.

If you meet me tomorrow though and ask me how I am, I’ll be “Great.”

We’ve done the maths

Ashford to Disneyland and back is 751km.
Fuel economy figures for S-MAX diesel model we have are:

• Urban: 7.2 litres/100km
• Extra urban: 4.9 litres/100km
• Combined: 5.7 litres/100km

My fuel economy advisor says that these numbers are obtained by a driver who is going all out for fuel economy and they won’t have a car full of distractions, luggage and children.  My advisor tells me that for everyday economy the Urban figure is a good guide.
So to work out how many litres of fuel I’ll need for my return journey I need to divide my distance (751) by 100 and then multiply by 7.2.
Fuel needed for journey = 751*7.2/100 = 54 litres
An S-MAX has a 70 litre tank.
Woohoo!  We don’t have to worry about the French fuel blockades and, because nobody else will be able to get fuel, there will be nobody else on the road.
The only thing I need to worry about is the Saudi intelligence advising France that there is a threat of an al-Qaeda terrorist attack.http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-11562598

Bloody French

Just as we’re planning a trip to France the French decide to get stroppy.

I don’t really know why the French have a reputation for being awkward.  I’m pretty sure none of you remember the lorries full of lambs that were set alight.  You won’t recall baggage handler disputes or air traffic controllers going on strike.  Nobody would recognise a French lorry driver protest.  French train drivers striking, surely not…

Of course I jest.  The French are a feisty bunch and that’s something I like about them.  They do love a protest, and so, frankly, do I. 

I’ve protested and I’ve marched.  I even made it onto the local telly while I was at school and we decided that to protest about our school bus passes being taken away we’d walk to school along the main road and hold up the traffic.  I remember being quite impressed by the queue that built up behind us.  We never did get our bus passes back.

I remember getting on a coach in Torquay to protest outside the county offices in Exeter.  I was a hardcore member of the National Union of Students who fancied a day out of lectures.  I think I was also outraged that budget cuts meant a course in pottery was going to be axed.

Anyway the French appear to be unhappy that the retirement age is being increased to 62.  HELLO!!!  Don’t you realise we’re recovering from economic meltdown?  And, more importantly, if, as a result of your daft protests, petrol stations run out of fuel we won’t be able to return to the UK from our holiday, and we won’t be able to get back to work….

You know, protests might just be a good thing.  I’ve always loved the French.

It pays to complain

We bought Hannah a pair of school shoes in August, just before the new school term.  It was the usual “My haven’t your feet grown.” “30 quid.  Blimey, that’s a bit steep.  Oh well.  I’m sure they were less than that last time. *hands over credit card*”

Last week Hannah complained that her shoes were falling apart.  This was a slight exaggeration but the soles were coming away from the leather.  We determined to go back and complain.

We took the shoes back today and after Hannah tried on loads of shoes we found a pair that accommodated Hannah’s inherited high instep.  I have told Hannah that both her father and I share the awkwardness of a high instep making shoes and boots nigh on impossible to buy.

We went to the checkout.  I didn’t know whether it was going to be a straight exchange or, because the newer shoes seemed to be better quality, we’d end up paying more.  I was pleasantly surprised; Hannah’s shoes were in the sale at £9 which meant I was due a refund of £21.

Bargain!  I’ll be back.  For plimsolls for Ethan and trainers for Hannah, before the month is out.

Can't sleep

Hannah has had a couple of evenings when she's not been able to sleep. The evenings have been a week apart so I'm ruling out a physical cause even though there are physical symptoms: shivering, funny feeling in her tummy, funny feeling in her throat.
I think there's probably a psychological cause and these are stress symptoms.
I've asked what she thinks she might be worried about and the only thing that comes to mind is "learning about the two World Wars at school."
History is important but Hannah has been worried, and might still be worried, about it happening again.
It's not possible to say it won't happen again as the UK is currently already engaged in war.
She knows the first and second World Wars involved Germany and Germany is still "there".
I've told her that today's Germans are embarrassed by their country's past and that is associated with guilt and shame too. They are the last people likely to be responsible for starting a war.
I don't really know what else to do or say.

Misleading advertising

I’ve long held the view that airbrushed ads should be clearly identifiable as such with some kind of brush logo and maybe the word “fake.”  I could have sworn I blogged about this before but can’t find the post so either I have and Blogger search is rubbish, or I haven’t and am slightly senile.  Both of these potential scenarios is plausible.

Anyhow, I was delighted but not really surprised and then annoyed and then non-plussed and then delighted again, to learn that the Guiding movement have obviously read my (non) existent airbrushing blog post.

Delighted because they’d read my blog and taken note.  Not really surprised because the Guiding movement has always been forward thinking.  Annoyed because they didn’t credit me with the idea.  Non-plussed because I realised I probably wouldn’t have done anything further with my idea and then delighted because I’d gone full circle.

Research done by Girlguiding UK shows that girls are concerned about the pressure caused by unrealistic images in the media.  Go Guides, go Brownies, go Rainbows.

There is a petition to support the call for a kitemark that distinguishes between airbrushed and natural images.  If you’d like to support this idea, and I would encourage you to, then pop to www.girlguiding.org.uk/petition and you have until 2 November to sign up.

A new addition

Yesterday my husband told me that his parents will be getting a puppy, a little Border Collie.  I think this is a good thing but it begs some questions.

Do they realise that looking after a puppy is harder work than looking after a newborn baby?

Do they realise puppies have “accidents” on nice cream carpet or wherever the hell they want to?

Do they realise that puppies sometimes chew furniture, skirting board, cushions, shoes, slippers, bedding etc?

Do they have a plan for where the puppy goes when they go away for the weekend?

Do they know that a house will smell of dog if it contains a dog?

But these are details.  It is a good thing.

I need a plan

OK, I need your best idea.  I need a marketing gem, a genius plan, a killer idea.

I need to know about all those things you’ve either wanted to do yourself while you’ve worked in marketing, or things you’ve seen others doing that you consider to be the best.

I plan to plagiarise, steal, nick, borrow, re-work, amend anything you throw my way. 

You see our bosses have hatched an evil plan.  Future marketing budget allocation rests on our collective creativity.  I’m passing the buck, so now this all rests on your creativity.

The product, no surprise, is a car, and to be honest that’s probably all you need to know, except there’s not a whole lot of budget.  Forget all that namby pamby target customer stuff and think “what can start small but grow to be the biggest social media success in the world ever?”

OK, maybe not that huge.  Hyperbole aside, I need something with legs.

I know I’m not making sense, but that’s what happens when you’re trying to work past 11pm.

May I recommend…

 

May I recommend the Children’s book Never use a knife and fork by Neil Goddard with illustrations by Nick Sharratt.  It’s a good one for young cheeky children, and my children can recite the whole book.

And, for your delectation, I will let you know what you’ve been missing:

Never use a knife and fork.

Stuff your face till you can’t talk!

Soak your pigtails in your soup.

Squish your fishcake into gloop.

Slosh your squash around your cup.

Use your sleeve to mop it up.

Suck ice-cream from underneath.

Scrape your biscuit with your teeth.

Squirt your yoghurt from the pot.

Tie your sausage in a knot.

Paint a picture with your peas.

Squeeze some cheese between your knees.

Drink your gravy through a straw.

Bounce your burgers off the door.

Bung your thumbs in hard-boiled eggs.

Trickle treacle down your legs.

Pile up puddings on your toast.

Give your dog the turkey roast.

Hide spaghetti in your hair.

Keep crisps in your underwear.

Juggle jelly, tread in bread.

Balance bagels on your head.

Wolf down waffles while you walk…

But never use a knife and fork!

Buy this book, or borrow from the library.  Your children will love you for it.

What a load of

I spent a bit of time up a ladder today.  I cleared some guttering, took the gutter apart to clear the downpipe and then descended.  I then tried to go back up the ladder to continue my work and then I was visited by my enemy Height who had me freaking out just 20 foot up.

I came down and the job continued with me playing the less active role of ballast at the base of the ladder for my far braver husband.

We removed the dandelion and the thistle and thought we were doing quite well, until we got to, what Dave calls, “The Valley”: an area where two roofs meet.  This is what we (Dave) removed from half of “The Valley.”

I think it was a job worth doing, even if Dave did most of it.

High altitude weeds

Our gutters need clearing and I’m not just saying that because some dodgy bloke has chucked a tennis ball in our guttering, and has knocked on the door a fortnight later offering to clear our gutters for a bargain basement £1,000.

My eyes tell me they need sorting because we have both thistle and dandelion growing there.  They must be growing in something and I’m guessing that something is leaf mould.

It’s on my list of things to sort this weekend, which presents me with a problem.  My husband, being chivalrous and wanting to hang on to a mother for his children, doesn’t want me shinning up a ladder.  Apparently it’s a bit high and a bit dangerous.  And yes I did know that and I’m no stranger to danger and heights.  We’re not best friends you understand, especially Heights, who has a tendency to make me go weak at the knees, in a wobbly way.

But all of this leaves me (no pun intended) stuck with something on a to do list and an inability to sort it myself.  My options are

1. wait for Dave to sort it
2. wait for Monday and book someone to sort it.

The thing is, that neither of these is a guaranteed fix for the weekend, unless I nag.  I don’t really like nagging.  It’s a technique of last resort and I’d rather shin up a ladder myself wearing a pair of Marigolds.

But I am out of options.  Unless I defy my husband.  But then I’d need his help carrying the ladder.  And that would seem like I’m dropping a really big hint.  Which is a bit like nagging.  …

Winter Trifle

I’m reposting this so that Shona can find it easily if she needs it for Come Dine With Me.

This is a very flexible recipe and all measurements are approx. It feeds six people very nicely and whilst it can be accompanied by cream, this isn't essential. It's also a great recipe to take to other people's houses as you can take the ingredients along, assemble quickly and cook it on site. This works best if the pouring liquid is whisked and then transported and the chocolate pre-chopped.
It should be cooked in a large baking dish at 160 Celsius for 30mins.

• 450g brioche (often sold in 400g sizes and you can use just 400g)
• 400-500g raspberries (fresh or frozen - just add 5 minscooking time if using frozen)
• 100g white chocolate (I buy the 200g bar, eat some and then add a bit extra to the dish but you could also use white chocolate buttons or white choc chips)
• 400-500ml creme fraiche (can be half fat)
• 100-200g caster sugar
• 5ml vanilla extract (optional)
• 1 egg
• Dusting of icing sugar

Tear the brioche into rough two inch squares.
Chop the chocolate into pieces roughly the size of your little fingernail.
Put half of the brioche into the dish.
Spread half the raspberries over the brioche, together with half the chocolate.
Repeat this process with another layer of brioche, raspberries and chocolate.
Whisk together the creme fraiche, sugar, vanilla extract and egg.
Pour over the top of the brioche layers.
Bake for 30 mins or so and if desired, sprinkle with icing sugar before allowing to cool slightly for 20 mins or so.
Enjoy.

I need it

Conversation in the back of my car tonight.

“Hannah, do you know what I’m saving up for?”

“No, what?”

“An Xbox 360”

At this point I interject “Why on earth do you want an Xbox 360?  You’ve got a Wii and a DSi.  When would you play with an Xbox 360?”

“It would stop the other boys picking on me for not having an Xbox 360” and at this I shut up, but am saved by Hannah.

“You just need to ignore those people Ethan” and Hannah went on to demonstrate a wonderful understanding of how to deal with bullies.  And then she went all philosophical.

“And anyway, you don’t need an Xbox 360 you just want an Xbox 360.  There’s a difference between things you need and things you want.”

They then devised a game in which I suggested something and they said whether it was a need or a want.  Here are some of the results:

• Kitten: want
• Lawnmower: want
• Shoes: want
• Glasses: need
• Pants: need
• Haircut: want

I disagreed with lawnmower and shoes. 

The children argued we could just let the grass grow but I said that would make the lawn unusable as a lawn.  Hannah then said “Well you could use scissors” so my very adult response was “Well then you’d need scissors!”

The argument against shoes was that you could use flip flops.  I said that might not be great if it was snowing and they conceded that shoes were a need.  Frankly I thought they could have progressed the want argument by suggesting that flip flops and wellies could serve all footwear needs but as I’d won the argument I didn’t push it further.

The whole discussion was quite reassuring.  No parent wants a spoilt brat and it was great to hear that my children understand the difference between need and want.

I did caveat the conversation by saying that “Mummy needs an iPhone.”

Good memory, bad memory

I am really badly rubbish at remembering the things I’ve remembered.  I know that doesn’t make sense to you, but it makes perfect sense to me.  Allow me to explain.

Say one of my friends has a birthday on June 8th.  It might be written on the calendar or I might just have it lodged in my brain.  I may have a special way of remembering the date.  For June 8th it would be easy to remember because it was my mum’s birthday and also the date of my dad’s second wedding, just six months after mum died.  But anyway…

So I will have stored that Susan (chosen from my random name generator) has her birthday on June 8th, the same day as an important day in my life.

At the end of May I will think “I must buy my friend Susan a birthday card.  I mustn’t forget.” and then I promptly forget until June 8th or sometimes June 9th.

So on June 8th or 9th I will think “Bugger.  I forgot Susan’s birthday.  Doh!  I must buy a card and post it today.” and then that doesn’t happen. 

On about June 15th I’ll think “Oh shit.  I’m so useless and forgetful and Susan will think I’m a right arse.  Is it worth sending a card or does that just remind Susan that I am useless and forgetful?  I ought to send a card.  I’ll sort it tomorrow.”

Then it just goes from embarrassing to really embarrassing and I honestly don’t know what to do for the best.  Advice?

Favourite buttock

My favourite bit of Tuesday evenings happens during my regular yoga class.  It’s normally when we’re in the shivasna pose (lying down).

Our yoga teacher says “Make sure you’re evenly balanced.  Check you’re not favouring one buttock over the other.”

I find it difficult not to giggle.  Doesn’t everyone have a favourite buttock?

Chat assistants

I’ve just been perusing UK mobile sites.  My contract is due to expire in January and I would quite like an iPhone4.

While I was on the T-Mobile site I encountered a pop-up offering help from an assistant who’d be happy to help, via online chat. 

I’ve encountered a few of these with varying levels of quality.  Some have computers powering the responses, and some have real people in a call centre.  I consider it to be a really valuable sales tool for a company if budgets allow.  It’s particularly useful if the product or purchase method are complex, as is the case for mobile phones, and cars. 

The best I’ve encountered was a few years ago on the Mazda North American site.  They used real people who were employees of Mazda.  They weren’t agency call centre staff, and I think the pride in the company really came across.  That could be because they were employees or it could just be that they were American and therefore just generally more positive.  Either way they were helpful and knowledgeable.  It wasn’t a true test because I wasn’t a real American customer in market for an American car but it set my own personal benchmark for evaluating this service.

Tonight’s T-Mobile experience was at the other end of the scale.

“Samantha” started by introducing herself and enquiring after my health.  I explained that we were near contract end with O2 and we were previous T-Mobile customers looking to return but that there didn’t seem to be a great deal on offer.

I’ve encountered “Samantha” on a BT site so I was thinking I was talking to a computer.

“Samantha” replied, with poor grammar, that she was “off” and it seemed strange that a conversation had been initiated if her shift had finished.

I sent back “what?” because the reply didn’t seem to make sense and I received a further poorly constructed sentence that I understood to mean “Samantha” could only tell me about the offers on the website.

I closed the conversation and then up popped a satisfaction questionnaire including views on the chat assistant.  I completed it with the conclusion that the grammar was so poor that there was a real person at the other end of the chat and that real person was probably based offshore.

Frankly if you’re going do online chat then it needs to serve a purpose and it needs to add to the customer experience.  Done poorly, it damages your brand.

Taking it further

I’ve been thinking about yesterday’s blog and I have a further thought.

There are plenty of people that have neither the time, a sewing machine or a local haberdashery and fabric shop that are required to knock up a costume for historical days at school.

I should point out that Hannah’s Ancient Egyptian outfit comprises old curtain cut offs, a freshly purchased cord curtain tie-back and a pillow case retrieved from the loft but bought years ago in the States.  I still need some fabric stiffener stuff and I have no clue about where I should buy that.

For the Nativity last year, when Hannah was an angel, I cheated and bought from Tesco.  For £8 I bought a white dress with gold sparkles and stars which came with wings, a halo and absolutely zero effort.  The biggest value item on that list is the zero effort.  If I calculate how much my time is worth, then the Ancient Egyptian outfit which has used offcuts turns out to have been far more expensive.

All of the big players: Tesco, Sainsbury, Marks and Spencer, Asda, etc. are all on the ball for Nativity and are making a killing from people like me.  We’re happy to spend a small sum to save the hours involved with trial, error, fabric and thread. 

Why aren’t these companies looking at the National curriculum and realising a massive opportunity?  I could buy on Amazon or eBay and buy something of unknown quality for an inflated price but I’d rather buy from a supplier I trust where I can see the goods before parting with my cash.

So come on Marks and Sparks, Sainsbury, Tesco and Asda, step up to the plate and meet your customer demand.  You’ll make a killing by doing Ancient Egyptian, Victorian, Roman and Greek outfits.

Dear Weasel

This perhaps should be titled Dear Mr Gove but I really can’t stand the odious Michael Gove; I recoil at the thought of him.  But Gove has to be the addressee as he is the current Secretary of State for Education.

I have just spent a few hours trying to come up with a simple tunic that can be adapted to look vaguely Ancient Egyptian.  I did this because Hannah has to turn up to school dressed as an Ancient Egyptian.  I’ll be shopping for curtain tie back cord which will serve as a belt and, at the moment I have no idea how I’ll manage the colourful neck collar thingamabob.

I am not very creative and I don’t instinctively know how to make things like this.  I usually spend hours online looking for hints and tips and racking my brain for solutions that will be effective but with the minimum of effort.  I don’t expect someone to do this for me but I think it’s reasonable, given that the stuff I need to create is part of the national curriculum, that the Government provide some ideas.

A nice set of patterns with easy instructions on the Department for Children, Schools and Families website, together with supplier details would be great.  Throw in a hefty dose of optimisation for search and I’ll be a happy bunny.  And so would Hannah, because when she turns up in my creative effort she’ll look like an Ancient Egyptian loser.  And that’s not fair on her.

Mark’s lemon and poppy seed cake

Mark kindly baked this cake for my Macmillan Coffee Morning.  (Total raised to date £220).  I recognised the recipe and, because it was such a hit, am sharing it.  I haven’t made it myself yet.

You will need a 24cm ring mould, greased & dusted with flour

Ingredients
85g unsalted butter at room temperature
245g caster sugar
grated zest of 1 1/2 unwaxed lemons
15g poppy seeds (plus extra to decorate)
165ml whole milk
235g plain flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
pinch of salt
3 egg whites

Lemon Syrup
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
50g caster sugar

Lemon Glaze
Juice of 1 lemon
250g icing sugar

Firstly preheat your oven to 170c, gas mark 3.

Beat together the butter, caster sugar, poppy seeds and lemon zest in a large bowl.
Slowly add the milk in stages and beat well (don’t worry if it looks slightly split at this stage).
In a separate bowl sieve the flour, baking powder and salt.
Add this to the butter mixture in 3 additions, beating well after each addition.
In a separate bowl beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks.
Fold this gently into the cake mixture using a metal spoon.  Don’t overmix.
Pour into mould and bake for 30 - 35 mins until the sponge bounces back when gently pressed.
Whilst the cake is cooking make the lemon syrup by mixing the sugar, lemon zest and juice in a saucepan and gently boiling it until it has reduced by half and a thin syrup has formed.
When the cake is cooked remove from the oven and spoon over the lemon syrup whilst the cake is still in the tin and still warm.  Leave to cool slightly in tin before turning out onto cooling rack to cool completely.
Make the icing while the cake is cooling by mixing the icing sugar and lemon juice together until thick, smooth but still pourable.
Once the cake has cooled, spoon over the glaze and let it run down the sides of the cake.  Sprinkle with a few poppy seeds.
Enjoy!