This evening, on my way to pick up Daisy, my last lesson of the day, I was in a steady flow of traffic on the A96 between Forres and Elgin. At 6pm it was as busy as the road gets, but traffic was steady at 60mph. In my mirrors I watched as a black Audi took every half-chance to overtake the cars behind me.
I know what it’s like; I used to have the same mentality. Other cars on the road were just obstructions on my route. What I couldn’t see then, and what the Audi driver could not see today, was that you really don’t get to your destination any sooner. What you do get, however, are potentially fatal overtaking situations. If you are overtaking a car, that is already doing 60mph, you want to complete the overtaking as soon as possible, so you will likely to be travelling at speeds over 70 - 80 mph. Now combine that with the 60 mph speed of the traffic heading towards you. Get it right and, congratulations, you have clipped maybe 15 - 20 seconds off your journey, at the expense of some extra fuel. Get it wrong and you are on a 140mph collision course.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying don’t overtake. I am asking you to consider whether it is really necessary.
Four miles (and four minutes) later, I arrive in Elgin and guess who is right in front of me? The black Audi. All his efforts, risks and extra fuel have put him two metres in front of me. I can see that it is a black Audi A4 estate. 2.0 Tdi and was supplied by Auto Station. I can also see (and this is what made the car especially noticeable) the registration plate: L1PPS. A cute, and to many people, desirable number plate (assuming it refers to facial lips).
The trouble is, personalised registration plates make cars very distinctive, and I guess that is the idea, but, if your car is so distinctive, you had better make sure your driving is faultless. It is not just number plates. Add wild spoilers to your car, flared wheel arches, throbbing exhausts or whatever you want to your car. Why not? It is your pride and joy. But don’t be surprised that the police seem to pull you over more than your friends get pulled over. And don’t be surprised when you find angry notes (or worse) on your windscreen.
Earlier this year, I was teaching Laura traffic lights and pedestrian crossings. We had stopped at a red light. Laura was prepared; she was in 1st gear, her right foot was over the accelerator and her left hand was on the handbrake. The lights changed to red and amber, she brought the clutch up to the biting-point, released the handbrake and stalled. She is not the 1st person in the world to do this and she certainly will not be the last. As she started the car and prepared to move away, the car behind gave a prolonged blast of their horn and Laura stalled again. The lights changed back to red. I told Laura not to worry about the car behind, just prepare the car and be a wee bit more careful with the clutch when the lights change to green. When the lights changed she moved away perfectly and the car behind roared past us. Not an Audi. This time it was a black BMW, with the registration N111KON (perhaps a photographer?).
A couple of weeks later I saw the same car approaching Inshes roundabout. Because of the registration the car was very easy to spot. It was hardly surprising to see the driver on his mobile (don’t let me get started on those). Strange that he could afford a big, new BMW, but he couldn’t afford a hands-free set.
A couple of months went by before, one night, on my way home, I saw N111KON parked by a football pitch, where a kids football tournament was taking place. I stopped and, with a thick black marker pen, wrote him a very visible note explaining that it was not very courteous to blast his horn at learner drivers and it was not very legal to use his mobile phone while driving (I may not have used those exact words). I then left the note face-up on his windscreen for all the world to see.
It probably did not achieve anything. He probably still uses his mobile when driving and he probably still has a low tolerance of other drivers (especially learners). But I felt a lot better.
So, a word of warning: As I said earlier; go ahead, make your car as distinctive as you like, but you had better make sure your driving (and attitude) is beyond reproach.
By the way, to the owner of L1PPS, your offside brake light is faulty.
Wednesday 30 September 2009
Monday 28 September 2009
Multi-tasking
When I was training to become a Driving Instructor, my trainer suggested that, whenever I was driving, I should give a commentary on my drive. For example, if I were approaching a pedestrian crossing, the commentary would go something like:
“Pedestrian crossing up ahead. Checking mirrors to confirm the situation behind me….. That taxi is a bit close, so braking gently…….Scanning crossing for pedestrians…. Man walking up to crossing, pressing button….. Another mirror check and braking gently to prepare in case the lights change, or the man crosses…. Changing down to 3rd gear, foot off accelerator…. Lights changing to amber… Another mirror check, it’s safe to brake… Braking progressively and pressing clutch to stop the car…. Applying handbrake…. Looking out for any other pedestrians that may be looking to cross…. Checking left and right mirrors for any cyclists or motorbikes that may pull alongside…… Lights changing, bringing clutch to biting-point, final check for last minute pedestrians, releasing handbrake and accelerating with a final check of mirrors for vehicles that may be looking to overtake” (phew!)
I couldn’t do this ‘commentary driving’, I felt stupid talking to myself (whilst sober). Well, I persevered with it and, after a while, I stopped feeling self-conscious.
You may be wondering why this is a good idea. Two reasons: Firstly, it gets you used to describing exactly what a pupil needs to do in each situation. For instance, when I am teaching a pupil Pedestrian crossings for the first time, I would be giving a very similar list of instructions to the approach described above. If you are training to become an instructor (and not just driving instructors), then you should practice this technique to get used to talking a pupil through a situation.
Secondly, it really helps focus on exactly what you should be doing and reduces the chances of missing anything.
This morning, I met my new pupil, Michaela, from Duffus (another new location for me). After asking her what driving experience she may already have (very little), we ran through the cockpit drill and controls. Duffus is a small, quiet village with roads barely long enough to get up to 3rd gear before encountering a junction. Normally, I would aim to teach moving off/stopping on a nice, long road, with minimal hazards (such as parked cars). But, because the village was so quiet, I was able to ‘push’ Michaela and teach left/right turns and T-junctions as part of ‘moving off/stopping’.
I will always, with the car switched off, explain what we are going to do, offer a demonstration (if required), then give full, detailed instruction. If that seems to be going well, then I can back off a bit on the instruction and ask questions, such as “Which mirrors do you need to check here? When would be a good time to signal? Do you need to adjust you position? How are you going to control your speed? Which gear do you think is appropriate? Where should you be looking?”. Then, if they are giving me the correct answers, I can back off even more and try to leave them to it (coming back in with instruction if it looks like they are about to miss something).
When it got to the point where I could start to leave Michaela to it, she found it helpful to talk herself through it, to give a commentary drive. Ok, it was a first lesson, so everything was done at a relatively slow speed and she had time to talk herself through it, but I hope she continues with the commentary because it clearly works for her.
Right, lunchtime’s over. Time to get back to work
Today’s dynamite disc is 'Another girl, another planet' by The Only Ones. A bit of an obvious one (for people that have known me too long), but essential listening (IMHO). http://open.spotify.com/track/0PDZ4Rgj36MxVgvoMv3sk5
“Pedestrian crossing up ahead. Checking mirrors to confirm the situation behind me….. That taxi is a bit close, so braking gently…….Scanning crossing for pedestrians…. Man walking up to crossing, pressing button….. Another mirror check and braking gently to prepare in case the lights change, or the man crosses…. Changing down to 3rd gear, foot off accelerator…. Lights changing to amber… Another mirror check, it’s safe to brake… Braking progressively and pressing clutch to stop the car…. Applying handbrake…. Looking out for any other pedestrians that may be looking to cross…. Checking left and right mirrors for any cyclists or motorbikes that may pull alongside…… Lights changing, bringing clutch to biting-point, final check for last minute pedestrians, releasing handbrake and accelerating with a final check of mirrors for vehicles that may be looking to overtake” (phew!)
I couldn’t do this ‘commentary driving’, I felt stupid talking to myself (whilst sober). Well, I persevered with it and, after a while, I stopped feeling self-conscious.
You may be wondering why this is a good idea. Two reasons: Firstly, it gets you used to describing exactly what a pupil needs to do in each situation. For instance, when I am teaching a pupil Pedestrian crossings for the first time, I would be giving a very similar list of instructions to the approach described above. If you are training to become an instructor (and not just driving instructors), then you should practice this technique to get used to talking a pupil through a situation.
Secondly, it really helps focus on exactly what you should be doing and reduces the chances of missing anything.
This morning, I met my new pupil, Michaela, from Duffus (another new location for me). After asking her what driving experience she may already have (very little), we ran through the cockpit drill and controls. Duffus is a small, quiet village with roads barely long enough to get up to 3rd gear before encountering a junction. Normally, I would aim to teach moving off/stopping on a nice, long road, with minimal hazards (such as parked cars). But, because the village was so quiet, I was able to ‘push’ Michaela and teach left/right turns and T-junctions as part of ‘moving off/stopping’.
I will always, with the car switched off, explain what we are going to do, offer a demonstration (if required), then give full, detailed instruction. If that seems to be going well, then I can back off a bit on the instruction and ask questions, such as “Which mirrors do you need to check here? When would be a good time to signal? Do you need to adjust you position? How are you going to control your speed? Which gear do you think is appropriate? Where should you be looking?”. Then, if they are giving me the correct answers, I can back off even more and try to leave them to it (coming back in with instruction if it looks like they are about to miss something).
When it got to the point where I could start to leave Michaela to it, she found it helpful to talk herself through it, to give a commentary drive. Ok, it was a first lesson, so everything was done at a relatively slow speed and she had time to talk herself through it, but I hope she continues with the commentary because it clearly works for her.
Right, lunchtime’s over. Time to get back to work
Today’s dynamite disc is 'Another girl, another planet' by The Only Ones. A bit of an obvious one (for people that have known me too long), but essential listening (IMHO). http://open.spotify.com/track/0PDZ4Rgj36MxVgvoMv3sk5
Friday 25 September 2009
My rush hour's busier than yours!
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Stephanie’s out on her test (1st attempt), trembling like a wet whippet, so it’s blogtime.
A picture quiz for you:
Picture 1. Name the country?
Picture 2. Name the country?
Picture 3. Name the country?
Ok, so how did you do? A big gold star if you knew that all of them are sunny Scotland (1. The Isle of Coll, 2. Inverness and 3. Morar.
Ok, so how did you do? A big gold star if you knew that all of them are sunny Scotland (1. The Isle of Coll, 2. Inverness and 3. Morar.
Nine years ago, when my daughter, Rachel, announced that she was moving to Inverness with her boyfriend, we looked at the map and thought ‘Crikey! It’s the North Pole! Why on earth would she want to move there?’ (Answer - Because that’s where Donnie, her boyfriend, was from). At that time, we lived in Dunstable, Bedfordshire; over 500 miles away. I had been to Mull and Arran on university geology field trips, and I had been hillwalking in Glencoe with my friend ‘Molly’ Kewell. Then, just before I met Jane, I went the whole hog and travelled all the way to Dunnet Head (the most northerly point) and John O’Groats, before cycling to Land’s End. So I had been to Inverness (briefly) and it was July, so the weather wasn’t as formidable as I feared. Cutting the story short, Jane and I quickly came to love the area each time we visited Rachel (and Anna, who had also moved up). We decided that it was a far nicer place to live, so we put our business up for sale and bought a house in Glen Urquhart (20 miles south of Inverness, 4 miles west of Loch Ness). So far, we are living happily ever after.
I was reminded of my preconceptions about Scotland recently. Honestly, for those of you who don’t live here, how do you picture the Highlands? Bleak? Cold? Barren? Fields full of sheep, haggis and men in kilts? Forbidding mountains and lochs containing monsters? Of course, you would be right (apart from the bit about ‘fields full of haggis’ - they live in the mountains). But you would only be partly right. I once read an article about ‘Britain’s Best Beaches’ and it proclaimed a beach in Aberdeenshire (I can’t remember which one) as ‘The Best Beach in Britain’. At the time, I thought ‘How ridiculous - How can it be better than Studland Bay (Dorset) or some of the beaches in Devon and Cornwall?’ Of course, now I have seen the beaches, I can agree. Even Nairn Beach and Culbin Beach - within cycling/walking distance from me - are beautiful, unspoilt, white sand beaches. My favourite Scottish beach (so far) is near Loch Morar, just south of Mallaig, on the west coast (Photo 3). On a sunny day you could easily imagine you were on a perfect Greek island, with the whitest sands and crystal-clear water.Obviously, it’s not all wilderness. Last year, Inverness was Europe’s fastest-growing city, and Nairn and Elgin are busy little towns on the route from Inverness to Aberdeen. They all provide a significant challenge to someone learning to drive. Presently, traffic is a fraction of that which I experienced in Bedfordshire/Cambridgeshire, but it is increasing. We do get ‘rush hours’, but at least they only last one hour.
The reason I write all this is because of something written in BSM’s Instructor Forum recently. The topic was ‘Cyclists’. An instructor had (quite rightly) expressed concern about the number of accidents in which cyclists were involved. The discussion on the forum then seemed to become an anti-cyclist tirade, with some of the suggestions being that cyclists should take a test before being allowed on the road, only use busy roads during off-peak times and even have registration plates. As far as I am concerned (even though I rarely use my bike on the road), cyclists have just as much right to use the roads as motorists - as do horse-riders and tractors. When I made this comment, the reply I got (from a Manchester instructor) was
"I notice you live in the Highlands, Martin. Must be a lot of rush hour commuters there? (rolls eyes)".
Maybe it's me, but (especially with the 'rolls eyes') the tone seemed a tad patronising. I bowed to Manchester's superior traffic and replied ''Lots of rush hour commuters'? Well, it's not Manchester, admittedly (Oops, I almost said 'thankfully' there), but, yes, we do have the odd car that passes by."
I'm English. I was born in Harrow, grew up in Bedfordshire and spent my twenties and thirties working within 70 miles of London. I know all about traffic problems, from a motorist's and a cyclist's point of view. But just because I work in the Highlands doesn't mean that my pupils have it easy. As I said earlier, Inverness, Elgin etc, provide a 'significant challenge' to learner drivers with spiral roundabouts, dual-carriageways, blind T-junctions on steep hills, buses, taxis and, yes, cyclists.
Stephanie has only had 24 hours of lessons with me. She had never driven before and does not have anyone who could give her extra practice between lessons, so she did extremely well just to get to the stage where I was happy to take her test after so little time. She has just passed with only 5 minor faults. I can only assume that she did not have any cyclists to deal with because, living in the Highlands, how would she have coped?!
Thursday 24 September 2009
They call me the Wanderer
I've been getting around a bit recently (in a geographical sense, of course).
My pupil, Verity, is moving from Nairn to Aviemore. I have been teaching her in Inverness, but her nearest TC will now be Grantown-on-Spey. I don't usually cover that area (I leave that in Bridget's capable hands), but Verity wants me to continue to teach her. It's going to be a bit of a trek, but she has agreed to take 3 hour lessons to make it worth my while. Anyway, yesterday we decided to have a drive over to Grantown to have a wee look at the challenges it will present. Grantown is a lovely town (although there are a couple of tricky bits), but it was worth it for the drive over there. I have never seen the Rowan trees so full of berries (Verity claims it is a sign of a snowy winter to come, but she would say that as she is a keen snowboarder) and, with the glens changing to their autumnal colours, it was quite spectacular.
Then today, I had a new pupil, Katie, in Hopeman, a new location for me (see photo). If you watched Fiona Bruce's story on BBC's Who do you think you are?, then you may recognise the name, as it is where much of family comes from. It is a scenic harbour town, similar to several others on the Moray coast; a bit like a 'mini-Lossiemouth'. It is also great for teaching 'closed' junctions (junctions where you cannot see if it is safe to emerge until close to the 'give way' line). A really promising first lesson for Katie and I am looking forward to teaching in the area.
Finally, congratulations to Mark. He passed his test yesterday on his first attempt. He picked up an unusual minor fault - He was in 5th gear, at 60mph, and was asked to turn left. While slowing down, he changed to 3rd gear before slowing further and changing to 2nd. He was given a minor fault for 'unnecessary gear change'. OK, I agree it wasn't necessary, but I think it was a little harsh to fault him for it. Nevermind, 'a pass is a pass' as they say and Mark easily deserved his success. Best of luck for the future Mark.
Time to go. I have an early start tomorrow as I am picking Stephanie up from Cawdor at 7am for her 8.40 test. Very confident about Stephanie, despite her only having 24 hours from scratch (and no practice with friends or family). We shall see....
Tuesday 22 September 2009
Bonktastic!
According to 'a survey', Forres (the nearest town to me) is 'The Sexiest town in Britain' (with Elgin a close second)! This is an indisputable FACT because The Sun says so: (http://www.thesun.co.uk/scotsol/homepage/news/2637874/Scots-spend-35m-a-year-to-boost-their-sex-lives.html). "Lusty locals spend two-and-a-half times the national average on their sex lives." I particularly like the way they have printed a photo of Forres High Street and, beneath it, reported "...there's no sign on this Forres street of their hot habits."
Since reading this - and, before you ask, NO, I did not read it in The Sun - I have been paying a little extra attention to the daily goings-on in Forres. So far, there is not much to report: No aisle in MacKenzie & Cruickshank devoted to Jack Rabbits or Pleasure Pumps, and I didn't see a single person in Tescos teasing the cucumbers with their tongues.
It's not so surprising really. If you look at the figures quoted, even in the rampant hotspot of Forres, the average amount each adult spends, daily, on their sex life is four and a half pence... 31p a week... that's not even enough to buy a Walnut Whip (now there's a sex toy).
That's enough of that.... I'm off to the BSM Instructor Forum - the internet equivalent of a cold shower.
Since reading this - and, before you ask, NO, I did not read it in The Sun - I have been paying a little extra attention to the daily goings-on in Forres. So far, there is not much to report: No aisle in MacKenzie & Cruickshank devoted to Jack Rabbits or Pleasure Pumps, and I didn't see a single person in Tescos teasing the cucumbers with their tongues.
It's not so surprising really. If you look at the figures quoted, even in the rampant hotspot of Forres, the average amount each adult spends, daily, on their sex life is four and a half pence... 31p a week... that's not even enough to buy a Walnut Whip (now there's a sex toy).
That's enough of that.... I'm off to the BSM Instructor Forum - the internet equivalent of a cold shower.
Monday 21 September 2009
Things that make you go 'hmmm'
Just a quick couple of additions to the area's 'Hall of Shame':
Driving with Stephanie on the 40 mph Distributor Road that encircles the south of Inverness. A single carriageway and she is keeping up to 40mph, but approaching a roundabout. We are going straight ahead (1st exit). The driver of a black Land Rover Discovery (SG57GWE) is on the right hand lane of the roundabout, but decides that there is no problem overtaking us just as we are about to exit the roundabout. A traffic island means that there is NO ROOM to do this so Stephanie has to brake sharply to avoid having our front right wing being taken off. Of course, the traffic is slowing down for Inshes roundabout, ahead, so the driver put himself, his passengers, Stephanie and I at risk for the sake of being an extra 5 seconds further ahead.
Amazingly, an almost identical thing happened a couple of lessons later, when a red Saab (Y201VVG) did exactly the same thing at a different roundabout.
If you really MUST get 5 seconds further ahead, DON'T pick the single exit lane of a roundabout to overtake.
Driving with Stephanie on the 40 mph Distributor Road that encircles the south of Inverness. A single carriageway and she is keeping up to 40mph, but approaching a roundabout. We are going straight ahead (1st exit). The driver of a black Land Rover Discovery (SG57GWE) is on the right hand lane of the roundabout, but decides that there is no problem overtaking us just as we are about to exit the roundabout. A traffic island means that there is NO ROOM to do this so Stephanie has to brake sharply to avoid having our front right wing being taken off. Of course, the traffic is slowing down for Inshes roundabout, ahead, so the driver put himself, his passengers, Stephanie and I at risk for the sake of being an extra 5 seconds further ahead.
Amazingly, an almost identical thing happened a couple of lessons later, when a red Saab (Y201VVG) did exactly the same thing at a different roundabout.
If you really MUST get 5 seconds further ahead, DON'T pick the single exit lane of a roundabout to overtake.
Hurry-up Harry
Deciding when to put a pupil forward for test is often a bit of a balancing act. As I have said before, I will not let a pupil take their test (at least not in my car) if I do not think they are ready.
There is never any guarantee that anyone will pass. Earlier this year, I was very confident that Francis would pass 1st time; he could control the car perfectly, had good awareness and practicing the four reversing manoeuvres almost became boring, it was so easy. As you will have guessed - he failed. Something so simple; the examiner asked Francis to stop the car somewhere 'suitable' (safe, legal and convenient) and he stopped opposite a junction - D'Oh!
Because of this, I don't believe in insisting pupils have to be perfect before they can take their test. Times are hard for most people and £50 a lesson is a lot of money for people to find each week. Naturally, I would never devalue my profession - I am teaching a 'life-or-death' skill - but I don't agree with instructors who seem to unnecessarily prolong the course of lessons because they have a lack of business.
I went on about this a bit the other day with my 'Cruel to be kind' posts, so I apologise for the repetition. As in that post, I encountered contrasting attitudes in my pupils the last few days:
Tasmin learned to drive with other instructors in Forres. She is studying to become a vet at university and was really hoping to pass her test before she returned to uni'. Her nearest TC is Elgin, but she could not get a test appointment in time. So, she booked her test in Inverness, despite not having driven there previously. She took a few lessons in Inverness with her instructor and also practiced with her mum accompanying her. A week before her test, she was still unsure about some of the larger roundabouts in Inverness, so she called BSM and asked if an instructor could give her a couple of extra lessons.
She had a 2 hour lesson on Wednesday, then a 4(!) hour lesson on Friday with me. I barely had to say anything about her driving; her control and road-awareness were fine. Over those 6 hours we made sure that she was comfortable and confident with every roundabout, junction and manoeuvre. I would not be taking her for her Saturday test because I already had a lesson booked and she wanted to take it in her mum's car anyway.
She failed. The examiner asked her to pull over by the side of the road, then informed her that they were going to do a 'Controlled Stop' (Emergency Stop). She made her observations and, when it was clear, she drove off. Within a few seconds, a car appeared behind her and she hesitated: She should have driven normally and let the examiner decide whether to abandon the exercise, or to pull over and try again (obviously, the examiner would not command her to STOP if there was a car close behind). Unfortunately, her hesitation caused the approaching car to overtake - one serious fault.
Her mum called me to let me know. I was surprised at how disappointed I was (particularly as she had only picked up 3 minor faults). But I think the reason why I was especially disappointed was because Tasmin (and her mum) had put so much time, effort and money into her driving. They weren't trying to pass as cheaply and with as little effort as possible.
Tasmin is a far better driver than many people who have passed their test, so I hope she perseveres and re-books her test as soon as she can.
So, after hearing Tasmin's news, I wasn't in the happiest of moods when I went to pick up my next pupil. This was a lesson with someone - let's call him 'Harry 2' - who had also had some lessons with other instructors. When I get pupils who have been taught by someone else, I spend the first 10 - 15 minutes just watching their driving, without interfering too much. Junctions (including roundabouts) were 'ok' but he seemed unsure about crossroads. We stopped and I went through all the theory, then we put it into practice. Towards the end of the lesson I had a look at Turn in the road and Left reverse - they were also 'ok'. When we got back to his house I asked him if he was happy to have a 2 hour lesson at the same time every Saturday.
"Well, I was thinking about putting in for my test."
"I don't think we should be thinking about that just yet. It was promising today, but there are aspects we need to work on. Besides, I need to have a look at your Bay parking and you haven't even been taught Parallel parking yet. Also, you have not driven on dual-carriageways yet, so there is quite a lot to learn before we can think about your test."
"Yes, but I might not get Parallel Parking in the test. I just think that I should be driving by now, so I 'want a go' at the test, even if I fail."
(Steam is beginning to trickle out of my ears now) "But you still need to learn how to Parallel park, how to enter/exit a dual-carriageway, how to overtake, how to deal with Pedestrian Crossings and... you need to be able to do it ALL without me." (Trying to talk calmly and upbeat, but making it clear what I think). "I'll tell you what, next lesson, we shall have a look at Parallel Parking, Pedestrian Crossings and Dual-carriageways, then we will be in a better position to make a decision."
The trouble is...... 'Harry 2' could book his test, get lucky and pass.... with minimal time, effort and money spent. It's highly unlikely, but it is possible. Just as it is possible that someone, like Tasmin, could be the opposite (commited, hard-working and patient), but be unlucky and fail. It's not a gender thing. I have (or, have had) plenty of young lads who have worked hard on their driving, whilst some of the girls just want to be able to drive to their friend's as soon as possible. Perhaps, like Monsieur Hobbs, I should bring in my own 'Reign of terror'! I shall rule with an iron dual-control. That'll teach 'em!
Today's delicious ditty: http://open.spotify.com/track/6F5hPnwW7de7IcAuU7wYZr . Not as 'bouncy' as The Twelves remix for FIFA '09, but I couldn't find that, so the original will have to do.
There is never any guarantee that anyone will pass. Earlier this year, I was very confident that Francis would pass 1st time; he could control the car perfectly, had good awareness and practicing the four reversing manoeuvres almost became boring, it was so easy. As you will have guessed - he failed. Something so simple; the examiner asked Francis to stop the car somewhere 'suitable' (safe, legal and convenient) and he stopped opposite a junction - D'Oh!
Because of this, I don't believe in insisting pupils have to be perfect before they can take their test. Times are hard for most people and £50 a lesson is a lot of money for people to find each week. Naturally, I would never devalue my profession - I am teaching a 'life-or-death' skill - but I don't agree with instructors who seem to unnecessarily prolong the course of lessons because they have a lack of business.
I went on about this a bit the other day with my 'Cruel to be kind' posts, so I apologise for the repetition. As in that post, I encountered contrasting attitudes in my pupils the last few days:
Tasmin learned to drive with other instructors in Forres. She is studying to become a vet at university and was really hoping to pass her test before she returned to uni'. Her nearest TC is Elgin, but she could not get a test appointment in time. So, she booked her test in Inverness, despite not having driven there previously. She took a few lessons in Inverness with her instructor and also practiced with her mum accompanying her. A week before her test, she was still unsure about some of the larger roundabouts in Inverness, so she called BSM and asked if an instructor could give her a couple of extra lessons.
She had a 2 hour lesson on Wednesday, then a 4(!) hour lesson on Friday with me. I barely had to say anything about her driving; her control and road-awareness were fine. Over those 6 hours we made sure that she was comfortable and confident with every roundabout, junction and manoeuvre. I would not be taking her for her Saturday test because I already had a lesson booked and she wanted to take it in her mum's car anyway.
She failed. The examiner asked her to pull over by the side of the road, then informed her that they were going to do a 'Controlled Stop' (Emergency Stop). She made her observations and, when it was clear, she drove off. Within a few seconds, a car appeared behind her and she hesitated: She should have driven normally and let the examiner decide whether to abandon the exercise, or to pull over and try again (obviously, the examiner would not command her to STOP if there was a car close behind). Unfortunately, her hesitation caused the approaching car to overtake - one serious fault.
Her mum called me to let me know. I was surprised at how disappointed I was (particularly as she had only picked up 3 minor faults). But I think the reason why I was especially disappointed was because Tasmin (and her mum) had put so much time, effort and money into her driving. They weren't trying to pass as cheaply and with as little effort as possible.
Tasmin is a far better driver than many people who have passed their test, so I hope she perseveres and re-books her test as soon as she can.
So, after hearing Tasmin's news, I wasn't in the happiest of moods when I went to pick up my next pupil. This was a lesson with someone - let's call him 'Harry 2' - who had also had some lessons with other instructors. When I get pupils who have been taught by someone else, I spend the first 10 - 15 minutes just watching their driving, without interfering too much. Junctions (including roundabouts) were 'ok' but he seemed unsure about crossroads. We stopped and I went through all the theory, then we put it into practice. Towards the end of the lesson I had a look at Turn in the road and Left reverse - they were also 'ok'. When we got back to his house I asked him if he was happy to have a 2 hour lesson at the same time every Saturday.
"Well, I was thinking about putting in for my test."
"I don't think we should be thinking about that just yet. It was promising today, but there are aspects we need to work on. Besides, I need to have a look at your Bay parking and you haven't even been taught Parallel parking yet. Also, you have not driven on dual-carriageways yet, so there is quite a lot to learn before we can think about your test."
"Yes, but I might not get Parallel Parking in the test. I just think that I should be driving by now, so I 'want a go' at the test, even if I fail."
(Steam is beginning to trickle out of my ears now) "But you still need to learn how to Parallel park, how to enter/exit a dual-carriageway, how to overtake, how to deal with Pedestrian Crossings and... you need to be able to do it ALL without me." (Trying to talk calmly and upbeat, but making it clear what I think). "I'll tell you what, next lesson, we shall have a look at Parallel Parking, Pedestrian Crossings and Dual-carriageways, then we will be in a better position to make a decision."
The trouble is...... 'Harry 2' could book his test, get lucky and pass.... with minimal time, effort and money spent. It's highly unlikely, but it is possible. Just as it is possible that someone, like Tasmin, could be the opposite (commited, hard-working and patient), but be unlucky and fail. It's not a gender thing. I have (or, have had) plenty of young lads who have worked hard on their driving, whilst some of the girls just want to be able to drive to their friend's as soon as possible. Perhaps, like Monsieur Hobbs, I should bring in my own 'Reign of terror'! I shall rule with an iron dual-control. That'll teach 'em!
Today's delicious ditty: http://open.spotify.com/track/6F5hPnwW7de7IcAuU7wYZr . Not as 'bouncy' as The Twelves remix for FIFA '09, but I couldn't find that, so the original will have to do.
Friday 18 September 2009
The Force is strong in this one
Whilst doing some paperwork in BSM’s Inverness office yesterday, another instructor’s pupil came in to wait for her instructor. Eddie, the office manager, was chatting to her about her lessons and the subject of the new cars came up.
“I hope I pass before you change to the new cars.”
“Why’s that?” asked Eddie.
“Because I will have to learn a load of new reference points”
‘Reference points’, for those of you who may not know, are points on the car that the pupil can use to judge, for example, how close they are to the curb or when to start turning the wheel when parking. Sometimes these are existing ‘points’, such as where the windscreen-wiper hinge is; sometimes these are marks on the car (often the windscreen) that the instructor has placed (usually with stickers or wipeable markers). When I first started, I was loaned a car that had been previously used by another instructor. There were marker-pen dots of various colours all over the windows and strips of tape, with numbers 1 - 10, stuck to the tops of the front door interiors. Presumably, these all represented various ’reference points’ for various pupils. It took me ages to work out what the strips of tape were for; I can only assume they were for Bay Parking.
When I was trained to become an instructor it was stressed that I must KNOW all reference points for all manoeuvres. This view is encouraged by the DSA who will expect Trainee Driving Instructors to use them on their Part 3 Exam (the final test in the qualification process to become an ADI, Approved Driving Instructor). I had to know that, in the Corsa, the curb should be, for example, in line with the right windscreen-wiper hinge when stopping at the curb and approximately 1/3 of the way up the rear left corner window when reversing around a corner (on the left). The trouble is, if your pupil is shorter, or taller, than you, these reference points will be slightly out.
Here is (the concise version of) how I was trained to teach Parallel Parking:
1. Pull up alongside the car; select Reverse gear and make all-round, effective observation.
2. Reverse, straight, until the rear (or front, depending on which way it is facing) of the parked car is to the right of the black strip in the rear, left window.
3. Turn the steering wheel one full turn to the left until your car is at 45 degrees to the parked car, then turn one full turn to the right (to straighten the wheel).
4. Reverse back, straight, until your left door mirror covers the parked car’s right corner, then steer continuously to full right-lock.
5. As the car approaches a position parallel with the curb you will see the middle of the rear window approaching the curb. When this happens, slow the car down and steer one-and-a-half turns to the left (so that the wheels are now straight). Secure the car (handbrake, then neutral).
(I have omitted all the instruction about where to look and how to control the speed of the car).
This works. BUT… it only works if the pupil is of average height, can keep the car at a reasonably constant speed, understands what 45 degrees looks like and has a fantastic memory to remember these instructions.
It is certainly useful to have these reference points (the black strip, the left door mirror, the middle of the rear window) to help pupils who are really struggling with this, but, after passing my final exam, I started thinking “I don’t use ‘reference points’ when I drive, so why should I teach them?”
You know these tear-off-a-page-a-day calendars - the ones that often have jokes, ‘on-this-day’ facts, or quotations? Well, a while ago, the ‘quotation of the day’ was Knowing is no substitute for thinking. Of course, I knew this. Anyway, although these quotations are often clichéd or corny, I thought that this one applied particularly well to driving.
I started experimenting with my pupils, not in a sick Nazi, or Science-fiction way, but in a philosophical way.
I had a pupil who had had quite a few lessons and was ready to learn some manoeuvres. We started with ‘Turn in the road’ and, instead of teaching him when to turn and at what point to turn the other way etc, I swapped places and demonstrated what I wanted him to do. Although I talked about controlling the speed using the clutch, I did not mention one single reference point. I wanted him to think about what to do, not memorise it. We swapped back and he did it perfectly.
I had similar success with this ‘experiment’ when it came to ‘Reversing round a corner’. Admittedly, I did use a reference point for the Bay Park because it works perfectly and I use it myself. The big test would be Parallel Parking…
No demonstration. I linked how to control the speed of the car and where to look to what he had learned with previous experience. Then I simply explained that he was to pull up alongside the parked car, reverse and steer so that the back of his car was pointing towards the gap he wanted to end up in, then decide whether he should be steering towards the curb or away from the curb. Simples (I can’t believe I am quoting a television commercial Meerkat!)
I’m not going to pretend it was the greatest parallel park I have ever seen, but he did it without having to memorise all those ridiculous reference points. It just took a couple of tweaks and practices to bring it to test standard.
Additionally, I’m not going to pretend that this ‘Jedi’ method works for everyone. Some pupils like the ‘comfort’ of knowing exactly when to turn and how much to turn. Verity has had lessons with another instructor before she came to me. Today, we were in Inverness and I wanted her to parallel park. Because she has been taught this by someone else I didn’t want to interfere with the method she already had. The trouble was, she ended up too far from the curb. When I suggested not worrying about reference points, she wasn’t keen on the idea - she liked having ‘a plan’. So we compromised: I said “Do it the way you are happy with, but, before you get too close to the curb, or too close to parallel, just stop and think, ‘Do I need to be closer to the curb, or further away?’” This worked a treat. Although she was relying on her knowledge, she was still thinking about how to adjust her position.
I’m relatively new to this game. I certainly won’t pretend that I’m the world’s greatest Driving Instructor. But, I do wish more instructors would teach their pupils to think about what to do, rather than learn what to do.
“I hope I pass before you change to the new cars.”
“Why’s that?” asked Eddie.
“Because I will have to learn a load of new reference points”
‘Reference points’, for those of you who may not know, are points on the car that the pupil can use to judge, for example, how close they are to the curb or when to start turning the wheel when parking. Sometimes these are existing ‘points’, such as where the windscreen-wiper hinge is; sometimes these are marks on the car (often the windscreen) that the instructor has placed (usually with stickers or wipeable markers). When I first started, I was loaned a car that had been previously used by another instructor. There were marker-pen dots of various colours all over the windows and strips of tape, with numbers 1 - 10, stuck to the tops of the front door interiors. Presumably, these all represented various ’reference points’ for various pupils. It took me ages to work out what the strips of tape were for; I can only assume they were for Bay Parking.
When I was trained to become an instructor it was stressed that I must KNOW all reference points for all manoeuvres. This view is encouraged by the DSA who will expect Trainee Driving Instructors to use them on their Part 3 Exam (the final test in the qualification process to become an ADI, Approved Driving Instructor). I had to know that, in the Corsa, the curb should be, for example, in line with the right windscreen-wiper hinge when stopping at the curb and approximately 1/3 of the way up the rear left corner window when reversing around a corner (on the left). The trouble is, if your pupil is shorter, or taller, than you, these reference points will be slightly out.
Here is (the concise version of) how I was trained to teach Parallel Parking:
1. Pull up alongside the car; select Reverse gear and make all-round, effective observation.
2. Reverse, straight, until the rear (or front, depending on which way it is facing) of the parked car is to the right of the black strip in the rear, left window.
3. Turn the steering wheel one full turn to the left until your car is at 45 degrees to the parked car, then turn one full turn to the right (to straighten the wheel).
4. Reverse back, straight, until your left door mirror covers the parked car’s right corner, then steer continuously to full right-lock.
5. As the car approaches a position parallel with the curb you will see the middle of the rear window approaching the curb. When this happens, slow the car down and steer one-and-a-half turns to the left (so that the wheels are now straight). Secure the car (handbrake, then neutral).
(I have omitted all the instruction about where to look and how to control the speed of the car).
This works. BUT… it only works if the pupil is of average height, can keep the car at a reasonably constant speed, understands what 45 degrees looks like and has a fantastic memory to remember these instructions.
It is certainly useful to have these reference points (the black strip, the left door mirror, the middle of the rear window) to help pupils who are really struggling with this, but, after passing my final exam, I started thinking “I don’t use ‘reference points’ when I drive, so why should I teach them?”
You know these tear-off-a-page-a-day calendars - the ones that often have jokes, ‘on-this-day’ facts, or quotations? Well, a while ago, the ‘quotation of the day’ was Knowing is no substitute for thinking. Of course, I knew this. Anyway, although these quotations are often clichéd or corny, I thought that this one applied particularly well to driving.
I started experimenting with my pupils, not in a sick Nazi, or Science-fiction way, but in a philosophical way.
I had a pupil who had had quite a few lessons and was ready to learn some manoeuvres. We started with ‘Turn in the road’ and, instead of teaching him when to turn and at what point to turn the other way etc, I swapped places and demonstrated what I wanted him to do. Although I talked about controlling the speed using the clutch, I did not mention one single reference point. I wanted him to think about what to do, not memorise it. We swapped back and he did it perfectly.
I had similar success with this ‘experiment’ when it came to ‘Reversing round a corner’. Admittedly, I did use a reference point for the Bay Park because it works perfectly and I use it myself. The big test would be Parallel Parking…
No demonstration. I linked how to control the speed of the car and where to look to what he had learned with previous experience. Then I simply explained that he was to pull up alongside the parked car, reverse and steer so that the back of his car was pointing towards the gap he wanted to end up in, then decide whether he should be steering towards the curb or away from the curb. Simples (I can’t believe I am quoting a television commercial Meerkat!)
I’m not going to pretend it was the greatest parallel park I have ever seen, but he did it without having to memorise all those ridiculous reference points. It just took a couple of tweaks and practices to bring it to test standard.
Additionally, I’m not going to pretend that this ‘Jedi’ method works for everyone. Some pupils like the ‘comfort’ of knowing exactly when to turn and how much to turn. Verity has had lessons with another instructor before she came to me. Today, we were in Inverness and I wanted her to parallel park. Because she has been taught this by someone else I didn’t want to interfere with the method she already had. The trouble was, she ended up too far from the curb. When I suggested not worrying about reference points, she wasn’t keen on the idea - she liked having ‘a plan’. So we compromised: I said “Do it the way you are happy with, but, before you get too close to the curb, or too close to parallel, just stop and think, ‘Do I need to be closer to the curb, or further away?’” This worked a treat. Although she was relying on her knowledge, she was still thinking about how to adjust her position.
I’m relatively new to this game. I certainly won’t pretend that I’m the world’s greatest Driving Instructor. But, I do wish more instructors would teach their pupils to think about what to do, rather than learn what to do.
Yet another preachy post, I’m afraid, so lighten up with ‘Tighten up’ by Archie Bell and The Drells http://open.spotify.com/track/6IIcvtmuGpWIasqOpyGlyY
p.s. Here is a video of me demonstrating Parallel Parking http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIXYtYHA958&feature=related
Tuesday 15 September 2009
More fame and royalty
A quick postscript to my last blog, that neatly links several previous blogs.
When I have a pupil taking their test at Elgin Test Centre, I usually go to the Elgin Community Centre to enjoy a bacon roll and a decent coffee (and to type this drivel). I can now tell my grandson, Jordan, it is the Famous Elgin Community Centre now because Prince Charles goes there. It's true!
(See http://www.eveningexpress.co.uk/Article.aspx/1394321?UserKey= OK, I know it doesn't actually mention the centre, but they did mention it on the telly and I would recognise that crockery anywhere.)
Today's singalong smasher: Pounding by The Doves. http://open.spotify.com/track/48AjMGDHrZnLygdagmvxLj
(as the title suggests, not one for when you have a headache).
When I have a pupil taking their test at Elgin Test Centre, I usually go to the Elgin Community Centre to enjoy a bacon roll and a decent coffee (and to type this drivel). I can now tell my grandson, Jordan, it is the Famous Elgin Community Centre now because Prince Charles goes there. It's true!
(See http://www.eveningexpress.co.uk/Article.aspx/1394321?UserKey= OK, I know it doesn't actually mention the centre, but they did mention it on the telly and I would recognise that crockery anywhere.)
Today's singalong smasher: Pounding by The Doves. http://open.spotify.com/track/48AjMGDHrZnLygdagmvxLj
(as the title suggests, not one for when you have a headache).
Monday 14 September 2009
The Gospel according to St.Martin
You should be very careful what you tell children.
Rachel, my eldest stepdaughter, was round here on Saturday afternoon, ‘experimenting‘ on my wife (she was putting some lowlights, or something, into Jane‘s hair - yes, it looks lovely Rachel).
She turned to me, “What have you been telling Jordan?!” (Jordan is her 8 year-old son, my grandson).
“Um….” (There were lots of things, but I kept quiet until I knew what she was referring to), “Nothing…” (giving her my most innocent expression) “Why?”
She then explained that they were driving back from Forres when Jordan pointed at ‘The Bervie Chipper’ (an excellent fish & chip shop) and said “The Queen goes there.”
“Pardon?”
“The Queen goes there for her fish and chips.”
“Who told you that?!”
“Grandad Martin.”
“Well, you shouldn’t believe everything that Grandad Martin tells you.”
(‘You shouldn’t believe anything that Grandad Martin tells you’ would have been better advice.)
“Ah… well… um… Well, he wanted to know why it advertises itself as ‘The Famous Bervie Chipper’, and I didn’t know.”
“So you told him The Queen goes there?”
“Well… I don’t know why it is ‘famous’, so I told him that Tom Cruise often goes there, but he didn’t seem to know who Tom Cruise is, so I told him The Queen goes there.”
So now Rachel is worried that Jordan has been perpetuating my tale at school, thus giving him an undeserved reputation as something of a ‘whopper-teller’.
I could weakly protest that it is not my fault that he believes what I tell him, but it is….
A couple of years ago Jane and I were looking after Jordan and his little sister, Charlie. At the time we lived in Glen Urquhart, a picturesque glen that extends west from the shores of Loch Ness. We thought, as it was such a nice day, they would enjoy a drive further up the glen, in the hope of seeing some wildlife. Deer and birds of prey (including Golden Eagles) are numerous, so we were confident of seeing something to interest them.
Incredibly, just as we were telling them to look out for eagles, one swooped past. To further fuel their enthusiasm, I got a little carried away and said that, if they looked closely, they might even see a bear in the woods. Jordan was dubious. “There aren’t any bears,” he challenged.
“Yes, there are…”, I replied, just as we passed a ‘falling rocks’ warning sign (see above picture), “…Look! That sign is warning us about falling bear poo!”
“No!….” (but I could tell he was unsure)
“Yes! Ask Granny Jane where bears poo.”
“Granny Jane, where do bears poo?”
“In the woods.”
Q.E.D.
Hence, with the eagle appearing on demand, and Granny Jane confirming that bears do indeed poo in the woods, Jordan now seems to take everything I say as gospel.
Martin Street Preacher
What were you taught when you learned to drive? Obviously moving off/stopping, changing gear, junctions and.…. What else?
One time, I was teaching a pupil how to parallel park, when a lady walked up to the car and tapped on the window. I prepared myself to apologise for using her car to practice with…
“That was very good,” (looking at Pei-Ei, my pupil) “I don’t have the confidence to park like that. I was never taught how to park.”
I thought about it. Neither was I.
Earlier in the Summer I had my first lesson with Marinda, a new pupil from Lossiemouth. She told me she had learned to drive in Aberdeen, but had failed her test there. Now she was settled in her new home she wanted another shot at passing her test. I spent the first 10 minutes just analysing her driving. Great, no problems apart from an understandable hesitancy. We drove to a car park and I asked her to reverse into one of the bays.
“How do I do that?”
(Stunned silence)
“I’ve not had to do that before.”
She explained that there were no parking bays at the Aberdeen test centre, so her previous instructor had never taught her how to do it.
Last month I gave a Pass Plus course to a girl from the far NW coast of Scotland. I met her in Inverness and explained the format of the lesson to her (Town Driving, Country Driving, Dual-carriageways, Motorways, Night Driving and Bad Weather Driving). When I asked her which of these she felt least comfortable with, she replied ‘Town Driving, because she had never done roundabouts before’! She passed her test in Ullapool, where there are no roundabouts, and had not come across any in her driving since her test. Sheep, yes. Roundabouts, no.
There is currently a debate on the BSM Instructor Forum about this matter. An instructor was to take a pupil for a test at Yeovil Test Centre and she wondered whether it was necessary to teach her pupil Bay Parking, as Yeovil TC had parking bays (her usual TC did not). Immediate outcry that OF COURSE she should teach Bay Parking TO ALL HER PUPILS. Quite right, but, although she was a new instructor, it was worrying that she should even ask the question. It implied that she (like too many others) was just teaching pupils to pass their test, rather than teaching them to be a good driver.
My wife, Jane, taught her daughters, Rachel and Anna, to drive as soon as they reached 17. She taught them how to deal with multi-storey car parks because she remembered how nervous she was the first time she had to park in one after passing her own test. As far as I know, there are only 2 multi-storey car parks within 100 miles from here, but since Jane told me this, I have been teaching this skill to many of my pupils, even though they will NEVER get this on a test.
A bit 'holier-than-thou' and preach-y today, wasn’t it? Never mind, cheer yourself up with today’s t’riffic tune
http://www.last.fm/music/Bran+Van+3000/Discosis (click on the 'play' arrow before 'Speed'- sorry it's only a wee snippet, I'll try to find a longer clip).
(and, next time, I’ll be less serious and give you a tune that is NOT by a band whose name begins with ‘B’)
Sunday 13 September 2009
Cruel to be kind (Part 2)
Today's tune is 'Lazy Line Painter Jane' by Belle and Sebastian. A slow, throbbing intro builds to a double climax that epitomises the term 'wall of sound'. http://www.last.fm/music/Belle+and+Sebastian/Lazy+Line+Painter+Jane.
I was listening to that while driving to pick up Stephanie from Cawdor. A breathtaking day here, in the Highlands, with big, loopy, sausage-like clouds sitting high above the Cairngorms and clear, blue skies affording views far across the Moray Firth to distant mountains way beyond Ben Wyvis and sea-cliffs that stretch all the way up to Helmsdale and further north. Cawdor is where some of Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' was set. Indeed Macbeth, himself, was the Thane of Cawdor. Locally, it is pronounced 'Cawdr' or even 'Coddr'. I remember setting a quiz at a pub and asking “Which of Shakespeare's titular characters was The Thane of Coddr?” The team of English Lit' students immediately cried out “Corr - dorr.... it's Corr – dorr!” Stupid English peasants... just shows you how much they know.
You may have read my post, earlier this week, about 'Harry' (not his real name) being in a rush to take his test and me not thinking he would be ready within the next few weeks. Well, I was disappointed to receive a text from 'Harry', yesterday. He said that he had managed to find a cancellation and had brought his test forward to this Tuesday – 3 days time! Zut Alors! Sapristi! I would have got straight on the phone to tell him to move the test back, rather than forward, but the DSA will not allow you to change a test if it is in the next 5 working days – So, it's too late to change it now. As I have previously said, I will not allow one of my pupils to take their test in my car if I do not think they are ready. 'Harry' had a lesson today, so I was bracing myself to tell him that I would not let him use my car for the test.
I pulled up at his house;
“Good morning. So you've changed your test day?”
“My dad did. He wants me to pass as soon as possible, so he's been looking for cancellations and found one for this Tuesday.”
Hmmm... I'm not too sure I believe this 'Dad' story.
I told him that I would not be taking him for his test, it was too short notice.
“Aye, I told my Dad that. Can I use my own car?”
“Of course, or you could hire a dual-control Corsa, like this.”
He seemed quite happy about the situation, although I think the main reason for being upbeat was because he assumes he is going to pass.
“OK, well we had better get cracking with today's lesson then” I suggested.
To be fair to him, he really concentrated and did very well. It is a bit of a strange one; often I spend a lot of time trying to slow my pupils down, to give themselves more time to react to situations. With 'Harry', however, my main problem is getting him to put his foot down and get going when the road ahead is clear – he is too careful – he doesn't fully appreciate that he will cause problems for following traffic if he doesn't look to get up to speed when appropriate.
To give him further credit, he has asked me to give him an extra lesson on Monday and he does think about his driving. The problem is that he is having to think too much. I believe that, by the time you are ready for your test, a lot of your driving should be almost instinctive. I can visualise the examiner sitting there, thinking 'You're not really ready for this'.
Obviously, I dearly wish that 'Harry' does pass on Tuesday. I would like him to prove me wrong. My fear is that, if he gets a nice, clear run and he does pass, he is not yet good enough to deal with the road when problems occur. Not yet.
I was listening to that while driving to pick up Stephanie from Cawdor. A breathtaking day here, in the Highlands, with big, loopy, sausage-like clouds sitting high above the Cairngorms and clear, blue skies affording views far across the Moray Firth to distant mountains way beyond Ben Wyvis and sea-cliffs that stretch all the way up to Helmsdale and further north. Cawdor is where some of Shakespeare's 'Macbeth' was set. Indeed Macbeth, himself, was the Thane of Cawdor. Locally, it is pronounced 'Cawdr' or even 'Coddr'. I remember setting a quiz at a pub and asking “Which of Shakespeare's titular characters was The Thane of Coddr?” The team of English Lit' students immediately cried out “Corr - dorr.... it's Corr – dorr!” Stupid English peasants... just shows you how much they know.
You may have read my post, earlier this week, about 'Harry' (not his real name) being in a rush to take his test and me not thinking he would be ready within the next few weeks. Well, I was disappointed to receive a text from 'Harry', yesterday. He said that he had managed to find a cancellation and had brought his test forward to this Tuesday – 3 days time! Zut Alors! Sapristi! I would have got straight on the phone to tell him to move the test back, rather than forward, but the DSA will not allow you to change a test if it is in the next 5 working days – So, it's too late to change it now. As I have previously said, I will not allow one of my pupils to take their test in my car if I do not think they are ready. 'Harry' had a lesson today, so I was bracing myself to tell him that I would not let him use my car for the test.
I pulled up at his house;
“Good morning. So you've changed your test day?”
“My dad did. He wants me to pass as soon as possible, so he's been looking for cancellations and found one for this Tuesday.”
Hmmm... I'm not too sure I believe this 'Dad' story.
I told him that I would not be taking him for his test, it was too short notice.
“Aye, I told my Dad that. Can I use my own car?”
“Of course, or you could hire a dual-control Corsa, like this.”
He seemed quite happy about the situation, although I think the main reason for being upbeat was because he assumes he is going to pass.
“OK, well we had better get cracking with today's lesson then” I suggested.
To be fair to him, he really concentrated and did very well. It is a bit of a strange one; often I spend a lot of time trying to slow my pupils down, to give themselves more time to react to situations. With 'Harry', however, my main problem is getting him to put his foot down and get going when the road ahead is clear – he is too careful – he doesn't fully appreciate that he will cause problems for following traffic if he doesn't look to get up to speed when appropriate.
To give him further credit, he has asked me to give him an extra lesson on Monday and he does think about his driving. The problem is that he is having to think too much. I believe that, by the time you are ready for your test, a lot of your driving should be almost instinctive. I can visualise the examiner sitting there, thinking 'You're not really ready for this'.
Obviously, I dearly wish that 'Harry' does pass on Tuesday. I would like him to prove me wrong. My fear is that, if he gets a nice, clear run and he does pass, he is not yet good enough to deal with the road when problems occur. Not yet.
Friday 11 September 2009
Play it again Sam
Yet another blog-while-waiting-for-pupil-on-test thing. This time it's Emma (on her second attempt).
I'm 43, old enough to remember when the only options, when it came to listening to music, were radio, cassette and vinyl. Don't worry, I'm not going to bang on like some old fart, saying how music was so much better then, and how sound quality isn't the same on CD or MP3. What I do miss, however, is the urge to replay the record as soon as it finished. It was such an event to buy a favourite single that I often used to play them repeatedly, until I was almost sick of them. There was even a function on record players where you could select the player to play the record again as soon as it finished. This was much harder to do with cassettes, but was very easy with CDs (although, somehow, not the same).
Over the years there have been countless singles that I have almost worn out with endless reptition: New Rose (The Damned), Bizarre Love Triangle (and many others by New Order), Oblivious (Aztec Camera), Whole of the Moon (The Waterboys), Really Stupid (The Primitives), Aikea-Guinea (Cocteau Twins), Another girl, another planet (The Only Ones) and many, many more. Whether it is a result of CDs and MP3s making music more accessible, or whether it is my tastes becoming more varied, but more diluted, I am not sure.
This morning though, I was driving to Elgin with one of my own compilation CDs playing. Waving Flags by British Sea Power was on and, when it finished, I just had to play it again, and again. I don't remember feeling like that about a track for... ooh, yonks. You can listen to it at http://www.last.fm/music/British+Sea+Power/_/Waving+Flags .
Perhaps I shall continue with this. Everytime I think "Wow! That was great. I must play that again" I shall try and find a link for you.
Emma didn't pass. Such a silly reason too. She was on a longish stretch of 30mph road and she let her speed creep up to 36mph. A real shame because her driving is fine, just a lack of concentration. She will be especially disappointed because she had to wait such a long time for her 2nd test. I just hope she doesn't have to wait so long for her next attempt.
I'm 43, old enough to remember when the only options, when it came to listening to music, were radio, cassette and vinyl. Don't worry, I'm not going to bang on like some old fart, saying how music was so much better then, and how sound quality isn't the same on CD or MP3. What I do miss, however, is the urge to replay the record as soon as it finished. It was such an event to buy a favourite single that I often used to play them repeatedly, until I was almost sick of them. There was even a function on record players where you could select the player to play the record again as soon as it finished. This was much harder to do with cassettes, but was very easy with CDs (although, somehow, not the same).
Over the years there have been countless singles that I have almost worn out with endless reptition: New Rose (The Damned), Bizarre Love Triangle (and many others by New Order), Oblivious (Aztec Camera), Whole of the Moon (The Waterboys), Really Stupid (The Primitives), Aikea-Guinea (Cocteau Twins), Another girl, another planet (The Only Ones) and many, many more. Whether it is a result of CDs and MP3s making music more accessible, or whether it is my tastes becoming more varied, but more diluted, I am not sure.
This morning though, I was driving to Elgin with one of my own compilation CDs playing. Waving Flags by British Sea Power was on and, when it finished, I just had to play it again, and again. I don't remember feeling like that about a track for... ooh, yonks. You can listen to it at http://www.last.fm/music/British+Sea+Power/_/Waving+Flags .
Perhaps I shall continue with this. Everytime I think "Wow! That was great. I must play that again" I shall try and find a link for you.
Emma didn't pass. Such a silly reason too. She was on a longish stretch of 30mph road and she let her speed creep up to 36mph. A real shame because her driving is fine, just a lack of concentration. She will be especially disappointed because she had to wait such a long time for her 2nd test. I just hope she doesn't have to wait so long for her next attempt.
Tuesday 8 September 2009
Blow me down!
What would you think if your driving instructor turned up with his shirt splattered with blood?
I have half an hour to kill before Stephanie's lesson, so I am sitting at the links, in Nairn, overlooking the sea. The sun is quite hot, but I am having to sit in the car to shelter from the wind; 'blustery' is not the word.... it is 'rumballiach' ('tempestuous')! The Moray Firth is usually quite a placid stretch of water (at least, it is this end), but today it is filled with white horses galloping towards the east. Although the leaves are still green, they are being stripped from the trees, and the wind is even strong enough to blow over a parked motorbike. I am concerned that the car is rocking so much that it may look a little suspicious.
I collected my previous pupil, Gayle, from the BSM office, near the castle in Inverness. As we walked to the car an elderly man was literally blown off his feet. I helped him up and the lady in the nearby hairdressers said I could let him sit down in her her salon while an ambulance was called. He had a nasty cut to his head and the blood quickly covered his face. The wind was so strong though, that it sprayed the blood all over me. I now look like an extra from a horror film, with a worrying amount of blood over my shirt. It was all over my face and hands too, but, as a result of Swine flu, I always carry antibacterial travel soap with me. Nothing I can do about the shirt though.
So, now I have to go to collect Stephanie with a blood-splattered shirt. Perhaps I shall just tell her that it is a result of my previous pupil disagreeing with me.
I have half an hour to kill before Stephanie's lesson, so I am sitting at the links, in Nairn, overlooking the sea. The sun is quite hot, but I am having to sit in the car to shelter from the wind; 'blustery' is not the word.... it is 'rumballiach' ('tempestuous')! The Moray Firth is usually quite a placid stretch of water (at least, it is this end), but today it is filled with white horses galloping towards the east. Although the leaves are still green, they are being stripped from the trees, and the wind is even strong enough to blow over a parked motorbike. I am concerned that the car is rocking so much that it may look a little suspicious.
I collected my previous pupil, Gayle, from the BSM office, near the castle in Inverness. As we walked to the car an elderly man was literally blown off his feet. I helped him up and the lady in the nearby hairdressers said I could let him sit down in her her salon while an ambulance was called. He had a nasty cut to his head and the blood quickly covered his face. The wind was so strong though, that it sprayed the blood all over me. I now look like an extra from a horror film, with a worrying amount of blood over my shirt. It was all over my face and hands too, but, as a result of Swine flu, I always carry antibacterial travel soap with me. Nothing I can do about the shirt though.
So, now I have to go to collect Stephanie with a blood-splattered shirt. Perhaps I shall just tell her that it is a result of my previous pupil disagreeing with me.
Monday 7 September 2009
Cruel to be kind
Unusually nervous at the moment - it has been a while since I did this. I am back at Inverness Test Centre, while Andrzej is out impressing Paul, the examiner (hopefully).
I know he can drive; I wouldn't let him put in for his test otherwise. But he has put so much pressure on himself to pass first time that nerves may get the better of him. In the lesson before the test everything seemed a bit rushed and, consequently, some of the maneouvres were not good enough (he can usually do them without the slightest problem). My last words of advice were for him to take his time and listen to what the examiner is asking him to do. We shall see...
There are basically two types of pupils: Those who want to be able to pass their test a.s.a.p, and those who want to learn to drive. There is a difference. Passing the driving test is the absolute minimum requirement for being allowed on the road, but it should be the start of a pupil's learning, not the finish (and I am living proof of that).
This weekend I had lessons with perfect examples of these two 'types': Pupil 'A' (I shall call him 'Harry') has had 22 hours tuition and has booked his test for next month, with only 4 more hours of lessons. He is not ready and I cannot really see him being ready in time. Pupil 'B' (let him be known as 'Bob') has also had 22 hours tuition and drives very well. Although I am confident that he could pass his test tomorrow, he has not passed his Theory Test yet, but wants to continue taking 2 hour lessons each week up until his test.
I will have to see how it goes with 'Harry'. It may be that we can iron out all the wrinkles in time, but I am not optimistic. I think I will have to give him a mock test in a week or two to determine whether he is ready. If not, it is my duty to tell him to postpone his test. This isn't something I enjoy doing - especially if they are so looking forward to passing - but it is in their interests for me to do so. Firstly, for financial reasons: The Test now costs £63, plus the £45 - £50 they have to pay me for my time. That's £110 you don't really want to waste. Also, if I allow someone to take their test who I would not be happy to let drive my grandchildren, then there is a possibility they could get lucky and pass, but still be an unsafe driver. Additionally, the examiners really don't like it if someone, who obviously isn't ready, goes to take their test (because they are at risk themselves) and this reflects on the instructor. I once had the Senior Examiner pull me to one side after a test; he said I should not have put that particular pupil forward because she was not ready. She was ready; she was a reasonable driver and had passed her mock test with relative ease, it was just that she fell to pieces in the test.
From that day on, I have been much more strict in whether I will allow a pupil to take their test. Do you remember me talking about Staci (the one with the 'plunging neckline')? She booked her first test herself before I thought she was ready. A week before her test I still didn't feel she was ready, so I told her to postpone. She didn't want to. I then had to tell her that, although it was her choice whether she went ahead with the test, she would not be taking it in my car. She took the test in her own car and failed (that time).
I wish more pupils were like 'Bob'. He just wants to be a good driver and never talks about the test. As far as he is concerned, he is paying me to teach him how to be safe on the roads, not just to get him through the test with as few lessons as possible. He watches other road users and analyses the good aspects of their driving, as well as the bad. He wants to learn what will make him a better driver - as opposed to a certain other pupil, who is always asking "Would that be a minor fault?" or "Would the examiner fail me for that?". If you are currently learning to drive, FORGET THE TEST! You will progress more quickly if you just listen and think about how you can improve every aspect of your driving.
Andrzej passed his test, so congratulations to him. He is especially pleased because he will now be able to take his two children out in the car. And, yes, I would be happy to let him drive my grandchildren.
I know he can drive; I wouldn't let him put in for his test otherwise. But he has put so much pressure on himself to pass first time that nerves may get the better of him. In the lesson before the test everything seemed a bit rushed and, consequently, some of the maneouvres were not good enough (he can usually do them without the slightest problem). My last words of advice were for him to take his time and listen to what the examiner is asking him to do. We shall see...
There are basically two types of pupils: Those who want to be able to pass their test a.s.a.p, and those who want to learn to drive. There is a difference. Passing the driving test is the absolute minimum requirement for being allowed on the road, but it should be the start of a pupil's learning, not the finish (and I am living proof of that).
This weekend I had lessons with perfect examples of these two 'types': Pupil 'A' (I shall call him 'Harry') has had 22 hours tuition and has booked his test for next month, with only 4 more hours of lessons. He is not ready and I cannot really see him being ready in time. Pupil 'B' (let him be known as 'Bob') has also had 22 hours tuition and drives very well. Although I am confident that he could pass his test tomorrow, he has not passed his Theory Test yet, but wants to continue taking 2 hour lessons each week up until his test.
I will have to see how it goes with 'Harry'. It may be that we can iron out all the wrinkles in time, but I am not optimistic. I think I will have to give him a mock test in a week or two to determine whether he is ready. If not, it is my duty to tell him to postpone his test. This isn't something I enjoy doing - especially if they are so looking forward to passing - but it is in their interests for me to do so. Firstly, for financial reasons: The Test now costs £63, plus the £45 - £50 they have to pay me for my time. That's £110 you don't really want to waste. Also, if I allow someone to take their test who I would not be happy to let drive my grandchildren, then there is a possibility they could get lucky and pass, but still be an unsafe driver. Additionally, the examiners really don't like it if someone, who obviously isn't ready, goes to take their test (because they are at risk themselves) and this reflects on the instructor. I once had the Senior Examiner pull me to one side after a test; he said I should not have put that particular pupil forward because she was not ready. She was ready; she was a reasonable driver and had passed her mock test with relative ease, it was just that she fell to pieces in the test.
From that day on, I have been much more strict in whether I will allow a pupil to take their test. Do you remember me talking about Staci (the one with the 'plunging neckline')? She booked her first test herself before I thought she was ready. A week before her test I still didn't feel she was ready, so I told her to postpone. She didn't want to. I then had to tell her that, although it was her choice whether she went ahead with the test, she would not be taking it in my car. She took the test in her own car and failed (that time).
I wish more pupils were like 'Bob'. He just wants to be a good driver and never talks about the test. As far as he is concerned, he is paying me to teach him how to be safe on the roads, not just to get him through the test with as few lessons as possible. He watches other road users and analyses the good aspects of their driving, as well as the bad. He wants to learn what will make him a better driver - as opposed to a certain other pupil, who is always asking "Would that be a minor fault?" or "Would the examiner fail me for that?". If you are currently learning to drive, FORGET THE TEST! You will progress more quickly if you just listen and think about how you can improve every aspect of your driving.
Andrzej passed his test, so congratulations to him. He is especially pleased because he will now be able to take his two children out in the car. And, yes, I would be happy to let him drive my grandchildren.
Friday 4 September 2009
Singing and dancing in the rain
I believe it was the wise sages, Busted, who once foretold “Welcome to the year 3000. Not much has changed but we live underwater”. Apart from the fact that it seems like rather a large change to me, it could be that their prophesy may become true in less than the predicted 991 years.
The other day I was thinking that I had been slightly premature with my gloomy statement that summer was over. Jane and I had taken Maggie to Blair Atholl for the Horse Show/Event/thing (I’m sure it has an official name, but Jane isn’t here to ask). The drive through Glen Ferness, around the Cairngorms, to Blair Atholl Castle was glorious: Black, forbidding mountains formed the horizon, but the hills between were carpeted with thick heather and wild grasses which, with the clear sunshine, produced the most vivid purples and golds. With David Bowie’s Hunky Dory on the CD player, it was a perfect day for driving. The next few days were equally fine. The air-con was back on and so were the shades.
Looking out of my window this morning, however, I see that my ‘summer is over’ statement was actually an understatement. It is not just the end of the summer out there; it looks like the end of the world.
When you see television pictures of floods in Britain, it almost looks like fun: People hoisting up their trousers and wading across streets, people finding canoes and making the most of the conditions, firefighters carrying people from their homes and everyone in the pub complaining that they can’t get to work.
In reality, of course, it isn’t fun. It’s great fun! Our house looks out across fields that stretch to Forres, with Cluny Hill and the larger hills of Shougle and Glen Latterach beyond. These fields are perfect for a quick walk with the dogs, with a small burn for Jilly and Doris to paddle in (Daphne, the whippet, is not so keen on water). Yesterday it rained and rained…. And rained some more, continuing right through the night. This has caused the burns to burst and flood the fields. But, they are not just flooded; they are flowing. I am watching large logs and tree branches flow quickly across them and then across the road which connects the east end of the village
Out came the waterproofs and the boots for the first time in months. Daphne wears a coat at such times - she’s a delicate little flower - but even Doris (the terrier) donned one of Daphne’s coats (a bit big for her though, she wasn’t too impressed). I took the dogs down the fields and let them loose. You would have thought they hadn’t been out for years - they loved that they could run and swim so close to their home. Their dog-coats may keep them dry in showers, but they are not a good idea when they want to go swimming. I can’t wait until it is time for their afternoon walk, the water is still rising.
I shouldn’t be so flippant. The floods have been quite serious further east. Local radio regularly updates the diluvial drama (but I have switched it off now because I can’t stand the adverts and Ronan Keating). Even in Fochabers, where I sometimes teach, a bridge has been swept away. Lossiemouth (which has a very sunny microclimate) has suffered 12cm of rain in the last 24hrs and, as a result, I have postponed today’s’ lessons (all in the Elgin/Lossie area). Luckily for me, I can just give myself the day off and work Sunday instead. Others are not so lucky; many have had to evacuate their homes and abandon their cars.
The rain has stopped, for now, but more rain is forecast. Good for the garden, good for the ducks and great fun for the dogs. But Jack would have hated it.
Tuesday 1 September 2009
Wacky Jacky
We have a bit of a menagerie up here: Jane has two ponies, Dave and Lachie; we have a Parsons Terrier (Doris), a Whippet (Daphne), a Black Labrador Retriever (Jilly) and a Chocolate-point Siamese cat (Jack). I could bore you endlessly with pages and pages about these creatures. I love them all to death and cannot bear to think about the day when I lose any of them.
This afternoon I was giving John a lesson and it was just ‘one of those days’. John was fine, but we just seemed to encounter incredible stupidity at every turn: Pedestrians would step out in front of us; a car overtook us at who knows what speed when we were in a 20mph zone and approaching a T-junction; people swapped lanes mid-roundabout; and, amazingly, two cars in front of us just stopped (in the middle of the road - no indicators) and the drivers got out for a chat! I don’t ‘do’ road-rage. If other drivers (and pedestrians want to be a complete tit, then that is up to them, I don’t let it bother me (although I do quietly make a wish that they are not able to reproduce). In fact, it is often useful to have all these prats do such stupid things, because I can use these incidents as a way of teaching pupils what NOT to do. Today, however, when those two drivers stopped for a chat, I had to fight so hard to refrain from bellowing obscenities at them (particularly as my window was already open).
You may detect, from my tone and language, that I am not in the best of moods. I really shouldn’t blog when I feel like this, but it is somewhat cathartic. It is my release.
The reason why I am not my usual happy-bunny self is, just before John’s lesson I got a text from Jane saying that someone had run down our cat. Some loathsome shit drove too fast through our village and killed our beautiful, perfect, perfect Jack. Naturally, they were too far down the evolutionary tree to think about stopping and letting us know. They left that task for our poor neighbours.
Jane was left with the task of burying ‘Wacky Jacky’ and I had to try and concentrate on the afternoons’ lessons without thinking about ripping the head off the next arsehole who sped past us, or who cut across lanes while trying to text someone.
I know. It was only a cat. We have the option of getting another one, unlike Maggie losing Robert last month. 99.99999% of the time (at least) I accept that people make mistakes, everyone does. But, this afternoon I am rigid with rage and about to combust with vitriol towards the ‘person’ who killed Jack. I want to rub their face in the blood and scream “LEARN TO FUCKING DRIVE!” at them. It was only Jack this time, but the next time you race through a village it could easily be someone’s child.
So (taking a deep breath now), I apologise for the language and making you face the brunt of my scorn. Jane and I will have a large Bowmore tonight and drink to Jack, then we’ll be fine tomorrow.
I just wish I was fine now.
As sharp as blancmange
A few years ago, I was invited to an interview for the position of Hotel Manager at The Ramnee Hotel, Forres. The interview was going well until the hotel owner asked me to tell him a joke.
It’s hard enough when they say “Tell me a bit about yourself”, but you can prepare a little for that. I have to admit that, when he asked me to tell him a joke, I stalled and my mind began to froth and lather.
My hesitation obvious, he graciously said I could think about it and he would ask me later. What should be my tactic here? The whole point of a joke is surely to make people laugh, or, at least, smile, so it had to be funny. However, a truly filthy joke would be inappropriate. Perhaps I had already blown it by not having an off-the-cuff response. Although I had a bit more time to think about it, my mind was on the questions he was now asking me, so it didn’t really help.
The end of the interview came. I thought it had gone really well. I also hoped he had forgotten about the request for a joke.
“So, Martin. What joke do you have for me?”
I had thought of two (both old). I considered telling him about the woman who went to the doctor, complaining that her toes curled up every time she had sex, and the doctor advising her to remove her tights next time. Instead, I made a mess of telling him the one about the woman who went to the doctor (I can’t remember if it was the same woman), saying that ‘Every time she sneezed, she had an orgasm. Is there anything he could give her?’ And he gives her snuff. I know, I know…. It’s the way I tell ‘em.
He had the good manners to smile. The interview ended and he said he would let me know. Obviously, he must have been roaring with laughter inside, because the next day he offered me the job. Not that it’s relevant, but I declined the offer because another hotel (The Newton, Nairn) made me a better offer the same day (without me having to tell a joke).
The ‘joke-on-the-spot’ thing bothered me though. I can respond in milliseconds with a sarcastic barb when the moment calls for it. I can recall all sorts of useless trivia (especially about music). And I have heard thousands of jokes; but something in my brain fails when I need to recall them. Therefore, I am full of admiration for someone who can immediately conjure up an appropriate joke. Years ago, I went to see Josie Lawrence and Eddie Izzard do some improv’ in London and they were so quick-thinking. Members of the audience would call out random words, such as ‘ladder’ and ‘teacup’, then they would instantly improvise a genuinely funny sketch based on those words.
So it is with humiliation and embarrassment that I tell you that I have finally thought of the joke I should have told at the interview (again, an old one):
A young waitress is just starting her new job in a hotel restaurant. The Restaurant Manager tells her that a man on table 7 has put down his menu and is ready to order. The Manager then watches while the waitress goes to take his order, but is stunned to see the girl slap the man and run off, out of the restaurant.
The Restaurant Manager approaches table 7.
“Is there a problem, Sir?”
“I asked her for a quickie, then she slapped me!”
“I think you will find it is pronounce ‘quiche’, Sir.”
Side-splitting, eh? OK, maybe not the funniest joke ever, but it would have been appropriate to the context. I just wish I had remembered it years ago.
It’s hard enough when they say “Tell me a bit about yourself”, but you can prepare a little for that. I have to admit that, when he asked me to tell him a joke, I stalled and my mind began to froth and lather.
My hesitation obvious, he graciously said I could think about it and he would ask me later. What should be my tactic here? The whole point of a joke is surely to make people laugh, or, at least, smile, so it had to be funny. However, a truly filthy joke would be inappropriate. Perhaps I had already blown it by not having an off-the-cuff response. Although I had a bit more time to think about it, my mind was on the questions he was now asking me, so it didn’t really help.
The end of the interview came. I thought it had gone really well. I also hoped he had forgotten about the request for a joke.
“So, Martin. What joke do you have for me?”
I had thought of two (both old). I considered telling him about the woman who went to the doctor, complaining that her toes curled up every time she had sex, and the doctor advising her to remove her tights next time. Instead, I made a mess of telling him the one about the woman who went to the doctor (I can’t remember if it was the same woman), saying that ‘Every time she sneezed, she had an orgasm. Is there anything he could give her?’ And he gives her snuff. I know, I know…. It’s the way I tell ‘em.
He had the good manners to smile. The interview ended and he said he would let me know. Obviously, he must have been roaring with laughter inside, because the next day he offered me the job. Not that it’s relevant, but I declined the offer because another hotel (The Newton, Nairn) made me a better offer the same day (without me having to tell a joke).
The ‘joke-on-the-spot’ thing bothered me though. I can respond in milliseconds with a sarcastic barb when the moment calls for it. I can recall all sorts of useless trivia (especially about music). And I have heard thousands of jokes; but something in my brain fails when I need to recall them. Therefore, I am full of admiration for someone who can immediately conjure up an appropriate joke. Years ago, I went to see Josie Lawrence and Eddie Izzard do some improv’ in London and they were so quick-thinking. Members of the audience would call out random words, such as ‘ladder’ and ‘teacup’, then they would instantly improvise a genuinely funny sketch based on those words.
So it is with humiliation and embarrassment that I tell you that I have finally thought of the joke I should have told at the interview (again, an old one):
A young waitress is just starting her new job in a hotel restaurant. The Restaurant Manager tells her that a man on table 7 has put down his menu and is ready to order. The Manager then watches while the waitress goes to take his order, but is stunned to see the girl slap the man and run off, out of the restaurant.
The Restaurant Manager approaches table 7.
“Is there a problem, Sir?”
“I asked her for a quickie, then she slapped me!”
“I think you will find it is pronounce ‘quiche’, Sir.”
Side-splitting, eh? OK, maybe not the funniest joke ever, but it would have been appropriate to the context. I just wish I had remembered it years ago.
Parlez-vous Franglais?
Every now and then I get an urge to do something different; a new challenge or learn a new skill.
I started water-skiing when I was about 7 years old and I always wanted to, one day, ski across the English Channel - I thought it would be a lot more fun (and easier) than swimming it. Despite being quite capable of doing so - I would ski for hours around Studland Bay and The Solent - I just never got around to it, mainly because it involved so much effort and commitment from others.
Nine years ago, I read a magazine article about a woman who, on the spur of the moment, quit her job, took a bus to Land’s End, then walked to John O’Groats. What a great thing to do! (Although I wasn’t too sure about the walking bit). So, the next day I bought a Dawes touring cycle and, a week later, I was on the train to John O’Groats. I don’t know why I did it the ‘wrong’ way; the prevailing winds are South-Westerly’s, but I didn’t think about that. Anyway, I then spent sixteen days cycling down to Land’s End. The first few days I sorely regretted not doing some training first (and ‘sorely’ is the accurate term), but it was a great experience and an unrivalled way to see our country. Not only that, but the regulars at The Cross Keys, Totternhoe raised almost £1,000 for Cancer Research through last-minute sponsorship.
I sometimes think my wife, Jane, is a bit too impetuous; she will go to muck out her horses, but then decide to ride for hours through forest without thinking to tell anyone where she has gone. But I am just as bad: I have run marathons, leapt from aeroplanes, climbed solo to the summit of active volcanoes and spent evenings in Leighton Buzzard with minimal consideration of the consequences. Often, I’ll see a news item about a 17 year-old sailing single-handedly around the world, or Eddie Izzard running consecutive marathons throughout the country (see www.eddieizzard.com) and get jealous. I get those urges (again) to do something similar.
As well as all the exciting, Indiana Jones stuff, I get repeated desires to learn something new. A skill which will challenge me and make life more interesting. There are 4 skills I would love to learn:
To paint a picture I would be proud to hang on a wall. I have all the oils and acrylics and stuff, but, although I have ‘dabbled’, I have never seriously tried to paint something worthwhile.
To play a musical instrument. I actually have a CD which features me playing bass guitar (and bongos and ’singing’), but I don’t really consider bass guitar a ‘proper’ instrument. I would like to be able to play guitar without having to look at my hands, but, most of all, I would like to be able to play saxophone or clarinet (I have the cheeks for it).
To be able to Tapdance. I don’t know why, maybe it’s my inner bongo-player, but I think it is the least pointless form of dance.
To write a novel. Which is why you are subjected to my various ramblings. I’m not doing this for your benefit…. I’m simply learning to type.
To be able to speak a different language fluently. Whenever abroad, I think it is so ignorant to assume that others will speak English. However, I find it a little disappointing when, for example, I walk up to the reception in a French hotel and say “Bonsoir. Nous avons un reservation.” and they reply, “Good evening Sir. What is your name please?” Why can’t they just humour me for a few minutes?
To be able to count. *
Of the above, I think the most realistic is to learn a foreign language. At the moment, I have two foreign pupils; Andrew, from Poland, and Nataliya, from Russia. Unfortunately, my Polish is limited to ‘Do widzenia’ (’goodbye‘), ‘ and ‘Wybovora’ (a rather nice vodka). However, Nataliya has just started with me, so I make take the opportunity to learn a bit more Russian than ‘nostrovia’ (’cheers!’) and ‘Stolichnoya’ (a rather nice vodka).
When I was at The Cross Keys, I had an Hungarian couple, Frank and Anna, as regulars. They were very good customers, so I was somewhat disappointed when they seemed to disappear - I was at risk of losing over £100 a week from them. I knew it was Anna’s birthday in a few days, so I bought an English/Hungarian phrasebook and sent her a birthday card with ‘Boldog szü letesnaport Anna’ (‘Happy Birthday Anna‘….. (I hope)) written inside. They came to the pub for her birthday and remained good customers after that. I learned Magyar (Hungarian) for various phrases - ‘Good evening’, ‘Please’, ‘Thank you’, ‘You’re welcome’, etc - and Frank taught me Magyar for ‘dickhead’, so we were sometimes able to have little conversations in Hungarian.
I like to think my interest in languages stems from an influential French teacher we had at Cedars school, Monsieur Hobbs. Mr Hobbs was rosy-cheeked and fresh out of teacher training. He didn’t stand a chance with our class. He had absolutely no control over anyone. One day he tried splitting up the class, boy/girl, boy/girl and in alphabetical order. This put Andrew Gogan next to Pauline Glen - a match made in hell as far as Monsieur Hobbs was concerned. Another day he walked into the classroom and, because no-one paid a blind bit of notice, he sat at his desk and put his briefcase up in front of him. After about half an hour, he stood up and, his face a strange maroon colour, shouted “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO BE QUIET!”…. a few uncertain seconds of silence was followed by the class collapsing into hysterical laughter. However, maybe it was just pity, but, eventually we did try to learn a bit of French. In fact, in some strange way, we were inspired by Monsieur Hobbs and tried to speak French outside of lessons. Unfortunately, our grasp of the subject was miniscule, so it mutated into Franglais (as immortalised by Bill Wyman in the song “(Je suis un Rock Star”). My friend, Ian and I had the respective nicknames, Beardy and Farley; which quickly became Beardé and Farlé . We would greet each other with ‘Bonjour jeune homme’. And we generally bastardised most words into Franglais.
Plus ç a change (as we might have said) - The more things change, the more things stay the same. I had a message on Facebook this week, from my schoolfriend, Helen. She said that her 16 year-old son (and also his friends) had taken to speaking Franglais too, talking about going to a ‘parté ’ at the weekend (although, it should clearly be ‘le weekend’). It was good to hear that such traditions are being preserved. Vive l’esprit d’Hobbs! I would understand if you think this is all a bit juvenile and pretentious, but you would be wrong. It is just a fun and imaginative way of conversing, with a self-mocking pretentiousness. I may never get around to my ambition of mastering French, but I certainly had fun with Franglais.
As Mr D Trotter once said, “Mangetout, Rodney. Mangetout.”
I started water-skiing when I was about 7 years old and I always wanted to, one day, ski across the English Channel - I thought it would be a lot more fun (and easier) than swimming it. Despite being quite capable of doing so - I would ski for hours around Studland Bay and The Solent - I just never got around to it, mainly because it involved so much effort and commitment from others.
Nine years ago, I read a magazine article about a woman who, on the spur of the moment, quit her job, took a bus to Land’s End, then walked to John O’Groats. What a great thing to do! (Although I wasn’t too sure about the walking bit). So, the next day I bought a Dawes touring cycle and, a week later, I was on the train to John O’Groats. I don’t know why I did it the ‘wrong’ way; the prevailing winds are South-Westerly’s, but I didn’t think about that. Anyway, I then spent sixteen days cycling down to Land’s End. The first few days I sorely regretted not doing some training first (and ‘sorely’ is the accurate term), but it was a great experience and an unrivalled way to see our country. Not only that, but the regulars at The Cross Keys, Totternhoe raised almost £1,000 for Cancer Research through last-minute sponsorship.
I sometimes think my wife, Jane, is a bit too impetuous; she will go to muck out her horses, but then decide to ride for hours through forest without thinking to tell anyone where she has gone. But I am just as bad: I have run marathons, leapt from aeroplanes, climbed solo to the summit of active volcanoes and spent evenings in Leighton Buzzard with minimal consideration of the consequences. Often, I’ll see a news item about a 17 year-old sailing single-handedly around the world, or Eddie Izzard running consecutive marathons throughout the country (see www.eddieizzard.com) and get jealous. I get those urges (again) to do something similar.
As well as all the exciting, Indiana Jones stuff, I get repeated desires to learn something new. A skill which will challenge me and make life more interesting. There are 4 skills I would love to learn:
To paint a picture I would be proud to hang on a wall. I have all the oils and acrylics and stuff, but, although I have ‘dabbled’, I have never seriously tried to paint something worthwhile.
To play a musical instrument. I actually have a CD which features me playing bass guitar (and bongos and ’singing’), but I don’t really consider bass guitar a ‘proper’ instrument. I would like to be able to play guitar without having to look at my hands, but, most of all, I would like to be able to play saxophone or clarinet (I have the cheeks for it).
To be able to Tapdance. I don’t know why, maybe it’s my inner bongo-player, but I think it is the least pointless form of dance.
To write a novel. Which is why you are subjected to my various ramblings. I’m not doing this for your benefit…. I’m simply learning to type.
To be able to speak a different language fluently. Whenever abroad, I think it is so ignorant to assume that others will speak English. However, I find it a little disappointing when, for example, I walk up to the reception in a French hotel and say “Bonsoir. Nous avons un reservation.” and they reply, “Good evening Sir. What is your name please?” Why can’t they just humour me for a few minutes?
To be able to count. *
Of the above, I think the most realistic is to learn a foreign language. At the moment, I have two foreign pupils; Andrew, from Poland, and Nataliya, from Russia. Unfortunately, my Polish is limited to ‘Do widzenia’ (’goodbye‘), ‘ and ‘Wybovora’ (a rather nice vodka). However, Nataliya has just started with me, so I make take the opportunity to learn a bit more Russian than ‘nostrovia’ (’cheers!’) and ‘Stolichnoya’ (a rather nice vodka).
When I was at The Cross Keys, I had an Hungarian couple, Frank and Anna, as regulars. They were very good customers, so I was somewhat disappointed when they seemed to disappear - I was at risk of losing over £100 a week from them. I knew it was Anna’s birthday in a few days, so I bought an English/Hungarian phrasebook and sent her a birthday card with ‘Boldog szü letesnaport Anna’ (‘Happy Birthday Anna‘….. (I hope)) written inside. They came to the pub for her birthday and remained good customers after that. I learned Magyar (Hungarian) for various phrases - ‘Good evening’, ‘Please’, ‘Thank you’, ‘You’re welcome’, etc - and Frank taught me Magyar for ‘dickhead’, so we were sometimes able to have little conversations in Hungarian.
I like to think my interest in languages stems from an influential French teacher we had at Cedars school, Monsieur Hobbs. Mr Hobbs was rosy-cheeked and fresh out of teacher training. He didn’t stand a chance with our class. He had absolutely no control over anyone. One day he tried splitting up the class, boy/girl, boy/girl and in alphabetical order. This put Andrew Gogan next to Pauline Glen - a match made in hell as far as Monsieur Hobbs was concerned. Another day he walked into the classroom and, because no-one paid a blind bit of notice, he sat at his desk and put his briefcase up in front of him. After about half an hour, he stood up and, his face a strange maroon colour, shouted “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO BE QUIET!”…. a few uncertain seconds of silence was followed by the class collapsing into hysterical laughter. However, maybe it was just pity, but, eventually we did try to learn a bit of French. In fact, in some strange way, we were inspired by Monsieur Hobbs and tried to speak French outside of lessons. Unfortunately, our grasp of the subject was miniscule, so it mutated into Franglais (as immortalised by Bill Wyman in the song “(Je suis un Rock Star”). My friend, Ian and I had the respective nicknames, Beardy and Farley; which quickly became Beardé and Farlé . We would greet each other with ‘Bonjour jeune homme’. And we generally bastardised most words into Franglais.
Plus ç a change (as we might have said) - The more things change, the more things stay the same. I had a message on Facebook this week, from my schoolfriend, Helen. She said that her 16 year-old son (and also his friends) had taken to speaking Franglais too, talking about going to a ‘parté ’ at the weekend (although, it should clearly be ‘le weekend’). It was good to hear that such traditions are being preserved. Vive l’esprit d’Hobbs! I would understand if you think this is all a bit juvenile and pretentious, but you would be wrong. It is just a fun and imaginative way of conversing, with a self-mocking pretentiousness. I may never get around to my ambition of mastering French, but I certainly had fun with Franglais.
As Mr D Trotter once said, “Mangetout, Rodney. Mangetout.”
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