Soul Battle
Oliver Nelson’s The Blues and the Abstract Truth gets
mentioned alongside Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, and Kind of Blue is just about
the de facto most must have jazz album of the must have jazz albums.
He also worked in education, composed some classical pieces,
composed for films and television and has some great albums on his list. Soul Battle has the warmth and
interaction of three tenor saxes, Nelson, King Curtis, and Jimmy Forrest.
That’s it really, three saxes, piano, bass and drums kicking up a tremendous
stink, and swinging like Tarzan’s nuts on tree-to-tree Sunday.
Which is just as well, because that’s on the headphones
while I try to deal with Orange …
Orange no-help line
This may seem trifling to get incandescent about, but I try
never to let that stop a good incandescence. The Orange help line, after a load
of menu options, tells me: “we’re experiencing technical difficulties leading
to a large volume of calls, you may have to wait some time to speak to someone,
please hold or call back later”, and that’s fair enough, sometimes resources
get stretched.
Then I get the message: “our hours are eight am to six pm,
please call back later.” It was about seven fifteen. That makes the first recorded
message redundant and absolute rubbish. That annoyed me so much that I’ve
ordered a free Tesco SIM card, and if they don’t perform after eight am when
they finally get their sorry lazy butts out of bed, they can shove their Orange phone up their orange-arsed-baboon arses.
Of course, there’s been the hours last weekend, and more
hours last night (including a full update of the firmware, mega-shutdown
(battery out, SIM out, battery in, battery out again, SIM in battery in – the
smartphone hokey kokey), registration, re-registration, re-re-registration,
followed by frustration then resignation. Finally this morning it all became
clear: no problems with the device, RIM, just Orange not activating what they told me they
would activate. Last week.
Realisation has hit home…
…about this home made preserves thing. Mushroom ketchup,
first ready, absolutely delicious, minimal cost ingredients, all going well.
Then there’s the small print at the bottom of the lime pickle and pickled
cucumber pages: ready in four weeks / three to four weeks. What’s going on
here? I know the pace of life was slower in the olden, home made days, and
expectations were different, but did people really plan chicken curry nights
and whatever it is you have with pickled cucumber evenings weeks in advance?
How am I to avoid fiddling with, or having sneaky samples after about a week
and regularly from then? Do they do a PickleGuard ™ anti-tamper Kilner jar,
with a timer, that sprays you with the food-dye of shame if you go too near
before the due time has elapsed?
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