Tuesday, April 20, 2004
no spam thank you ma'am
Would you like to receive email every time this blog is updated? If you've been checking every day since Saturday to see if I've posted Part 2 of the Bridgeclimb story (the bit where we actually climb), this could be what you need. Send me an email saying you would like to be notified. Each time I post, you'll get an email with the text of the new post in it. Which you can read or delete as you please.
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Queen of the Castle
Last Tuesday I drove through north Sydney on my way from Newcastle. We had to queue for quite a while to pay the toll before entering the tunnel. As we were waiting, I looked up ahead and could see the Bridge, amongst the skyscrapers. I couldn’t believe how high it looked against those buildings, and that a few weeks ago I stood right at the top.
I’m standing 134 metres above the waters of Sydney Harbour, more than a tenth of a kilometre above all the dirty rascals. It doesn't quite feel real. I don’t quite realise how high I am until a cargo ship passes under the bridge. Hmmm, yeah, that’s quite a big ship, we say to each other. Then I experience a huge perspective shift as the guide points out that there are two people standing right at the front of the ship. They look like matchsticks.
We walked into the Bridgeclimb offices just before 4pm and found LOTS of people, all either lining up to make bookings or waiting for their turn to climb the bridge. Every ten minutes a group of twelve heads up onto the Bridge. All day and into the night.
After a bit of nervous waiting we were called in to sign indemity forms, then colour in a page of those circles that I haven’t seen since competing in Maths and Science competitions at high school, and count into a breathalyser. The circle-colouring-in was to get our names printed on the official certificates. I was the slowest to finish this because I actually tried to read the indemnity form, and at the same time a Bridgeclimb employee was talking about things that might have important. However I am happy to report that both Dad and I passed the counting and colouring-in tests comfortably.
Next we were hustled into an adjoining room, and greeted by another employee, who inspected our shoes, told us what jewellery we were allowed to leave on (rings and small earrings were about all), and performed the impressive feat of handing each of us exactly the right size jumpsuit without asking anyone for their size, but not before he apologised for looking each of us up and down. We went into little cubicles to change into the jumpsuits, after yet another employee came in with a weather report (temp low 20s, humidity high) and recommended "just underwear or very light layers" under the jumpsuit. This was very helpful as I hadn't wanted to ask, but had been wondering if you're supposed to wear your clothes underneath. The jumpsuits were not highly fashionable, though at least the colours were muted and inoffensive in two or three shades of grey. I heard later that the grey was chosen to avoid distracting motorists driving across the Bridge, but I don’t know if that’s true. It was somehow comforting that everyone wore the same, even the staff, and even including those who just work in the preparation areas and don't actually lead the climbs. I did feel for them, knowing how I would feel about wearing a jumpsuit on a daily basis, let alone one with firm elastic wrists, ankles and waist.
Once jumpsuited, they checked us over with a metal-detecting wand. I’m not sure if they were looking for guns, knives or excessive bling bling, but in any case we all passed.
Finally we met our guide and collected an array of gear. First, the padded belt and harness to be attached to the continuous static line (cable) that follows the entire route taken on the bridge. Next, a raincoat (zipped into a smallish package) that clipped onto the back of the belt. If it had been colder we would have had a similarly packaged fleecy jacket clipped on the other side. I was most amused by the blue man-size hanky with an elastic loop on one corner. This was worn on the wrist and wrapped around, bandanna style. I don’t remember anyone using it, but I guess a sudden runny-ness of the nose could be a bit of a disaster. Even if you did have pants with pockets on underneath the jumpsuit, it would be very tricky to get to your snot-rag. We were allowed to take sunglasses, and if we did there was an official BridgeclimbTM cord to hold them, which not only went around the neck but also clipped on to the jumpsuit. Dad was very relieved to discover this option because he had been debating whether to take sunnies, being worried about the wind drying out his contact lenses. There were also BridgeclimbTM hats, which, inevitably, clip onto the jumpsuit. I decided not to mess up my totally stylin’ pigtails. They even had official BridgeclimbTM scrunchies for those who hadn’t thought ahead like me.
We did a short practice climb on a series of ladders set up in the preparation area, mainly just getting used to being ‘clipped on’ to the static line, and learning how to free the clip when it snags. Oh yes, and learning the ‘one-at-a-time’ method of ladder climbing. And finally, just near the exit, we got the last piece of equipment: a radio which went in a holder on the belt, and a headset with ear pieces that went on your face in front of the ears (face-pieces?) and worked by bone conduction. I guess this might be so that you can still hear other things properly while listening to the running commentary from the guide.
We stepped outside onto the street, feeling about as odd as we looked. Not to mention a little apprehensive.
Stay tuned for part 2.
I’m standing 134 metres above the waters of Sydney Harbour, more than a tenth of a kilometre above all the dirty rascals. It doesn't quite feel real. I don’t quite realise how high I am until a cargo ship passes under the bridge. Hmmm, yeah, that’s quite a big ship, we say to each other. Then I experience a huge perspective shift as the guide points out that there are two people standing right at the front of the ship. They look like matchsticks.
We walked into the Bridgeclimb offices just before 4pm and found LOTS of people, all either lining up to make bookings or waiting for their turn to climb the bridge. Every ten minutes a group of twelve heads up onto the Bridge. All day and into the night.
After a bit of nervous waiting we were called in to sign indemity forms, then colour in a page of those circles that I haven’t seen since competing in Maths and Science competitions at high school, and count into a breathalyser. The circle-colouring-in was to get our names printed on the official certificates. I was the slowest to finish this because I actually tried to read the indemnity form, and at the same time a Bridgeclimb employee was talking about things that might have important. However I am happy to report that both Dad and I passed the counting and colouring-in tests comfortably.
Next we were hustled into an adjoining room, and greeted by another employee, who inspected our shoes, told us what jewellery we were allowed to leave on (rings and small earrings were about all), and performed the impressive feat of handing each of us exactly the right size jumpsuit without asking anyone for their size, but not before he apologised for looking each of us up and down. We went into little cubicles to change into the jumpsuits, after yet another employee came in with a weather report (temp low 20s, humidity high) and recommended "just underwear or very light layers" under the jumpsuit. This was very helpful as I hadn't wanted to ask, but had been wondering if you're supposed to wear your clothes underneath. The jumpsuits were not highly fashionable, though at least the colours were muted and inoffensive in two or three shades of grey. I heard later that the grey was chosen to avoid distracting motorists driving across the Bridge, but I don’t know if that’s true. It was somehow comforting that everyone wore the same, even the staff, and even including those who just work in the preparation areas and don't actually lead the climbs. I did feel for them, knowing how I would feel about wearing a jumpsuit on a daily basis, let alone one with firm elastic wrists, ankles and waist.
Once jumpsuited, they checked us over with a metal-detecting wand. I’m not sure if they were looking for guns, knives or excessive bling bling, but in any case we all passed.
Finally we met our guide and collected an array of gear. First, the padded belt and harness to be attached to the continuous static line (cable) that follows the entire route taken on the bridge. Next, a raincoat (zipped into a smallish package) that clipped onto the back of the belt. If it had been colder we would have had a similarly packaged fleecy jacket clipped on the other side. I was most amused by the blue man-size hanky with an elastic loop on one corner. This was worn on the wrist and wrapped around, bandanna style. I don’t remember anyone using it, but I guess a sudden runny-ness of the nose could be a bit of a disaster. Even if you did have pants with pockets on underneath the jumpsuit, it would be very tricky to get to your snot-rag. We were allowed to take sunglasses, and if we did there was an official BridgeclimbTM cord to hold them, which not only went around the neck but also clipped on to the jumpsuit. Dad was very relieved to discover this option because he had been debating whether to take sunnies, being worried about the wind drying out his contact lenses. There were also BridgeclimbTM hats, which, inevitably, clip onto the jumpsuit. I decided not to mess up my totally stylin’ pigtails. They even had official BridgeclimbTM scrunchies for those who hadn’t thought ahead like me.
We did a short practice climb on a series of ladders set up in the preparation area, mainly just getting used to being ‘clipped on’ to the static line, and learning how to free the clip when it snags. Oh yes, and learning the ‘one-at-a-time’ method of ladder climbing. And finally, just near the exit, we got the last piece of equipment: a radio which went in a holder on the belt, and a headset with ear pieces that went on your face in front of the ears (face-pieces?) and worked by bone conduction. I guess this might be so that you can still hear other things properly while listening to the running commentary from the guide.
We stepped outside onto the street, feeling about as odd as we looked. Not to mention a little apprehensive.
Stay tuned for part 2.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
quick rants
Are newsreaders the only ones who say "harassment" with the emphasis on the first syllable? "Harassment" seems to be good enough for the rest of us.
And, on another (unrelated) matter: Girls! Just because your sports team plays in a lower division and you don't have a coach or train regularly, you are still allowed to want to win! It's ok to be competitive! I'm a bit over the concept of "social" sport - this term often seems to be bandied about by people who are afraid of being competitive. You can have fun and seek to win too. You can still be friendly with the opposition, though keep the chatting and jokes for off the court. A while ago I grimaced through a friendly ref telling us with pride how he likes to have a bit of a joke on the court and get the players laughing, because 'it's a social grade'. Inside I was yelling at him 'take me seriously you bastard!'
OK they're my issues and I'll deal with them.
Yeah I still owe y'all a proper post.
And, on another (unrelated) matter: Girls! Just because your sports team plays in a lower division and you don't have a coach or train regularly, you are still allowed to want to win! It's ok to be competitive! I'm a bit over the concept of "social" sport - this term often seems to be bandied about by people who are afraid of being competitive. You can have fun and seek to win too. You can still be friendly with the opposition, though keep the chatting and jokes for off the court. A while ago I grimaced through a friendly ref telling us with pride how he likes to have a bit of a joke on the court and get the players laughing, because 'it's a social grade'. Inside I was yelling at him 'take me seriously you bastard!'
OK they're my issues and I'll deal with them.
Yeah I still owe y'all a proper post.
Monday, March 01, 2004
Yay for biology, Part II
I was doing the washing up on the weekend and overheard something on the tv about 'peeling sheep', which, unsurprisingly, caught my attention. The show was Landline and the product: 'Bioclip', which has been under development for many years and is just becoming commercially viable. Over thousands of years of domestication, the tendency for sheep to shed their wool has been bred out of most breeds. The bioclip process involves injecting a naturally occurring protein, covering the sheep in a net 'boob tube', and hey presto, a couple of months later, the wool can be peeled off instead of shearing. It's better for the sheep (no cuts from shearing) and better for the wool (more even length and no contaminating bits of skin. I think this is pretty nifty.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
validate me!
Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
I know there are a few of you reading. Just hit the comments button. I don't care if you do it anonymously.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
comments (0)
I know there are a few of you reading. Just hit the comments button. I don't care if you do it anonymously.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Word Nerd: Segue
A few months ago I sauntered into the bar one night after work, to meet a few friends. Almost as soon as I sat down, the question was asked. How do you spell 'segue'?
Well, S-E-G-U-E was my best guess, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it needed an accent or something. I tried every other possible spelling I could think of - there aren' t many - and they all looked pretty silly. Most people at the table felt they - sort of - knew what it meant, but no one was that confident about it. We decided it was some kind of transition, often used in the context of a conversation, as in "Hey, nice segue!" when someone smoothly changes the topic.
After we had debated the spelling for a while, I had a brainwave. "I'll call Mum, she'll know about it for sure!" I declared to the whole group, thus setting up my mother as a spelling guru. I whipped out my mobile and dialed my parents' number. Dad answered, listened to my question, had no idea what I was talking about, and went to get Mum, who was vacuuming at the time. Sadly, Mum didn't seem to know what I was talking about either. I put this down to a combination of things. a) She was in the middle of cleaning when I interrupted her with a question about an obcsure word, so maybe she was a bit distracted. b) I was convinced that if she saw the word written down in some sort of context, she would have been able to correct the spelling, no worries. c) I had a nagging feeling that I had mostly seen the word on US websites and I thought maybe it was uncommon here. Don't worry Mum, I still consider you the guru.
My initial dictionary search led me to think I had been right about the US English suspicion. Merriam-Webster (online) had it:
Etymology: Italian, there follows, from seguire to follow, from Latin sequi
Date: circa 1740
1. proceed to what follows without pause -- used as a direction in music
2. perform the music that follows like that which has preceded -- used as a direction in music
Date: circa 1913
1. to proceed without pause from one musical number or theme to another
2. to make a transition without interruption from one activity, topic, scene or part to another
And when I checked the Macquarie and Australian Oxford, I couldn't find it. It was a couple of weeks before I thought to check in the BIG Macquarie, and sure enough, my assumptions about it being mostly used by Americans had led me astray. There was a very similar definition there, and in the big Oxford.
So, there you go, an Italian music term, adopted for everyday English use. I'm surprised I don't hear it used more often, it seems pretty useful. I can't think of any direct synonyms, at least at the moment. (And I haven't got a big enough thesaurus) Let me know if you think of any.
Well, S-E-G-U-E was my best guess, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it needed an accent or something. I tried every other possible spelling I could think of - there aren' t many - and they all looked pretty silly. Most people at the table felt they - sort of - knew what it meant, but no one was that confident about it. We decided it was some kind of transition, often used in the context of a conversation, as in "Hey, nice segue!" when someone smoothly changes the topic.
After we had debated the spelling for a while, I had a brainwave. "I'll call Mum, she'll know about it for sure!" I declared to the whole group, thus setting up my mother as a spelling guru. I whipped out my mobile and dialed my parents' number. Dad answered, listened to my question, had no idea what I was talking about, and went to get Mum, who was vacuuming at the time. Sadly, Mum didn't seem to know what I was talking about either. I put this down to a combination of things. a) She was in the middle of cleaning when I interrupted her with a question about an obcsure word, so maybe she was a bit distracted. b) I was convinced that if she saw the word written down in some sort of context, she would have been able to correct the spelling, no worries. c) I had a nagging feeling that I had mostly seen the word on US websites and I thought maybe it was uncommon here. Don't worry Mum, I still consider you the guru.
My initial dictionary search led me to think I had been right about the US English suspicion. Merriam-Webster (online) had it:
Etymology: Italian, there follows, from seguire to follow, from Latin sequi
Date: circa 1740
1. proceed to what follows without pause -- used as a direction in music
2. perform the music that follows like that which has preceded -- used as a direction in music
Date: circa 1913
1. to proceed without pause from one musical number or theme to another
2. to make a transition without interruption from one activity, topic, scene or part to another
And when I checked the Macquarie and Australian Oxford, I couldn't find it. It was a couple of weeks before I thought to check in the BIG Macquarie, and sure enough, my assumptions about it being mostly used by Americans had led me astray. There was a very similar definition there, and in the big Oxford.
So, there you go, an Italian music term, adopted for everyday English use. I'm surprised I don't hear it used more often, it seems pretty useful. I can't think of any direct synonyms, at least at the moment. (And I haven't got a big enough thesaurus) Let me know if you think of any.
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Yay for biology
In the most interesting and heartwarming news I've heard in days, a plant has been developed that will change its colour when it comes into contact with landmines, by sensing certain chemicals.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Begging ettiquette?
I was a bit late leaving work, so I was jogging as a approached the bus interchange. Not flat out sprinting, but obviously running and (I thought) obviously in a hurry. I could see a few buses waiting and didn't know if mine was one of them. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone on a bike, and heard "excuse me?". I hoped he was talking to someone else and kept going. A young guy rode up beside me as I ran and said "excuse me, do you have a spare $1.20..." I think he finished with "for the bus" (though thinking about it later, that doesn't make total sense as he was riding a bike) but I replied barely before he had finished speaking, more with surprise than anger, "no, I'm in a hurry!". It was only a few more steps till I could see that my bus wasn't there yet, and after I stopped, I felt a bit foolish just standing there. But I think he had ridden off.
I don't quite know how I feel about begging in this town. I'm sure there are genuine cases but I also feel that there really should be enough avenues for people to get help if they need it. If you're not willing to obey anyone's rules in order to get your handout or your bed for the night, too bad. (Yes, I realise that often mental illness is a factor in homelessness and that can complicate things significantly). Sometimes I hand over some change, and mostly I don't. But that's not even really the point here. It made me feel similar to a few times when I've said no (and sometimes I really haven't had anything, or nothing I could give at the time) and the person gives you The Look of Death. My feeling is if you're throwing yourself on people's mercy by asking for something for nothing, you can't go acting like they owe you! Riding after someone who is clearly RUNNING for a bus to ask them for money is just rude, and I can't see how it would be a very successful strategy. I'm not going to choose to maybe miss a bus for you, before I've even heard your sad story. It's not like he even looked slightly desperate or hurried. Maybe he was just making sure he asked every single person around.
Share your funny / sad / annoying beggar stories by clicking on 'Comments'.
I don't quite know how I feel about begging in this town. I'm sure there are genuine cases but I also feel that there really should be enough avenues for people to get help if they need it. If you're not willing to obey anyone's rules in order to get your handout or your bed for the night, too bad. (Yes, I realise that often mental illness is a factor in homelessness and that can complicate things significantly). Sometimes I hand over some change, and mostly I don't. But that's not even really the point here. It made me feel similar to a few times when I've said no (and sometimes I really haven't had anything, or nothing I could give at the time) and the person gives you The Look of Death. My feeling is if you're throwing yourself on people's mercy by asking for something for nothing, you can't go acting like they owe you! Riding after someone who is clearly RUNNING for a bus to ask them for money is just rude, and I can't see how it would be a very successful strategy. I'm not going to choose to maybe miss a bus for you, before I've even heard your sad story. It's not like he even looked slightly desperate or hurried. Maybe he was just making sure he asked every single person around.
Share your funny / sad / annoying beggar stories by clicking on 'Comments'.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Pathetic geek stories!
A long time feature of the Onion AV Club, Maria Schneider's Pathetic Geek Stories has moved to its own site. Maria draws embarassing stories sent in to her by readers. An excellent place to go when you think you're having a bad day!
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Irony update
I wasn't really satisfied with my previous post about irony. This is the article I wish I'd written.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
