Friday 2 November 2018

Vanishing Acts

Vanishing Acts

I should have been a magician, a conjurer. Some people swear I already am because they know no one who can make things disappear so quickly, without trace. My things. Especially ones I particularly want. And in a hurry.

Now I don't think this particular skill is something you can learn from a book, a correspondence course, classroom or other people. I can only ascribe it to natural talent, something in my genes. So don't ask me how it's done. I don't know. And don't tell me it is something only acquired with age, for I have been doing this as long as I can remember. (OK, I know what you're thinking, so don't tell me my memory doesn't extend very far, for I can clearly recall being frightened by a dog – in my pram.)

What in particular have I made vanish? Answer: everything from gadgets to keys, books and documents that are urgently needed. Even my glasses (admittedly later found on my nose). Normally, it all happens without any thought or effort, but once, when I was going away for several months, I carefully locked my desk and hid the keys. To great effect, for when I got back, weeks of desperate searching passed before I could open the drawers again.

Perhaps I should follow the example of someone I once interviewed (about something quite different). He told me his office had been burgled several times and he no longer locked the door or anything else as the thieves only created more havoc in breaking everything open. He didn't exactly put up a welcome sign outside, but had learned a lesson in damage limitation. What his insurance company said the next time there was a break in he didn't mention, but I guess they would have been glad to get rid of him, although the likelihood is that he didn't bother about insurance any more either. He could at least save himself the steeply rising cost of the premiums.

To refer back to my desk, I have now succeeded in doing something worse than mislay the keys. I have lost them! I foolishly kept them loose in a pocket together with other things and must have accidentally pulled them out and dropped them when retrieving something else. Where, I do not know. So I am now faced with the choice of getting a locksmith to come and help me, at great cost, or drilling/cutting my way out of the problem – or problems, as there are drawers on either side, for which there were separate keys.

At least I now what the alternatives are. But what to do about the unconscious, unwitting vanishing acts? All suggestions welcome.


Wednesday 21 March 2018

Change the sporting rules

Imagine that there were no weight classes in boxing, weightlifting and wrestling. Who would compete? Certainly not the lighter athletes, no matter how good they may be. Not even the not-so-light. They would be events solely for heavyweights.

Unimaginable, you might say. Yet there are sporting events where that principle is not only imaginable but the rule, particularly in athletics (track and field). Take the high jump, for example. If you are not built like a beanpole, you are best advised to try something else, regardless of your talent and ability.

So here is how I would change the rules. Clear your own height and you get say ten points, with an additional point for every centimetre above that level and minus one for every centimetre below. The competitor with most points, wins.

Everyone would then be competing on equal terms. OK, if you are very heavily built you are still not likely to jump high, but there can hardly be any legislation for that, just as the very slightly built are not likely to make good shot putters or discus throwers. But those events could nevertheless be divided into weight classes, if not as many as in weightlifting, for instance.

Basketball is another sport dominated by players who tower over most of us. Why, in New Zealand, famed for its rugby team – the All Blacks, the national basketall team is known as the Tall Blacks. So what about all those who can't stretch up and dunk the ball in the basket? Yes, I know there may be one or two shorter players in a side, but a team entirely without its giants would stand little chance against the others, certainly at elite level. So I would have a seperate class for those below a certain height. And the same principle would apply to any other sport where height or weight give a decisive advantage.

Don't you agree?