Friday, July 14, 2006
On special offer today at the coffeeshop near my office:

LEAK AND POTATO SOUP

too bad I brought my lunch today.

Friday, July 14, 2006 2:30:22 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [2]  | 
 Wednesday, July 12, 2006
I've been writing a lot about Mexican food in London, and since our first visit to El Panzon I've been repeatedly (perhaps annoyingly) enthusiastic that London finally has a great Mexican restaurant. They've recently left the Hobgoblin and moved to a more convenient (for us) new location, the Dogstar in Brixton. And I'm pleased to report that the food is still fantastic.

But things are going crazy with new places popping up all over town. Earlier this week I finally made it to Daddy Donkey, a burrito (errr, I mean "burro") stand in Leather Lane. They're open only at lunchtimes M-F, but I have to say, mmmmmmmmmmm! I had a big-ol veggie burrito: beans, rice, guacamole and a tasty hot salsa. Although I gulped it down like a madman (I was in a bit of a state, getting ready for my British Sign Language assessment) I can report that it was excellent. I'll have to go back again (soon!) when I have a little more chance to savor my lunch.

But this is only one of many new places; I'm way behind the times ("the times" being most clearly illustrated on the long-running comments section on Phil Gyford’s prescient 2003 post "London's lack of Mexican"). There's apparently a new place called Beach Burritos just opened (4 Berwick Street). And a stall that sometimes appears at Chapel Market called Poblano. Not to mention Mercado Cantina which has recently opened just down the street from us. Heck, we haven't even visited Crazy Homies or Green and Red (not sure why the latter is listed as Argentinian) but they sound really good too.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006 2:16:46 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Friday, July 07, 2006
It's one year since the London bombings, and numerous members of the media have descended upon the area where I work, right by Tavistock Square, just up the road from Russell Square (my blog entry from the day is here). Guys with very fancy camera rigs and other guys with laptops are everywhere (I say "guys" because women seem quite underrepresented), and a helicopter overhead is massively disrupting my attention span at the moment (explaining why I'm writing this entry first thing instead of my customary just-after-lunch blog-break where I take advantage of the extra "lunch time" gained by staying at my desk and wolfing my lunch in a couple of minutes).

There are loads of police officers around the area, so I was a bit more careful to stop for red lights than I normally am*. So it wasn't much of a surprise at all that I was approached by a journalist in search of a unique angle on "London Bombings: One Year On". I was asked almost exactly the same question that I was asked by some other journalist on 11 July last year. Then: "After the events of last week do you find you're cycling more?" Now: Have you been cycling more since the events of last July 7th?". No, I still haven't. He also asked whether I've noticed more cyclists on the road (or on the other hand, am I completely oblivious that the number of cyclists has doubled since 2000). My answer may have reflected my frustration with so many confused cyclists (usually of the fair-weather sort who ride dangerously and without paying attention to anyone else on the roads (or pavements)**, "Yes, I think a lot of people have and you'd think they'd bloody learn the rules of the road by now." I have no idea where the word "bloody" came from, and I fear this comment (if heard, which is unlikely) will be misconstrued as a strictly anti-red-light-jumping statement where my intent was really just "they should learn to pay attention and ride sensibly".


*Red light jumping is one of those issues that makes people crazy. Just use the word "red" in any cycling forum and you'll see what I mean. I am definitely a red light jumper, but a cautious one in that I watch closely for any crossing traffic, and always give pedestrians the right-of-way when they have an indicator (green man) or are in a zebra crossing. Yes it's definitely against the law to do this, and I'll stand up and take my fine if I get caught doing it (as in, if anyone starts enforcing it). See also things like jaywalking, speeding, parking without paying, assault and battery, murder (pro-red-light-jumpers tend to use the first three as examples of crimes that are a matter of personal decisions; the anti faction like to bring in the latter as the sort of thing unrestrained red light jumping will no doubt bring as we all throw respect for the law into the gutter). Anyway that's all to say my own personal preference is to disregard certain traffic ordinances while still remaining a good citizen of the road when it comes to my fellow road users (not just giving people the right of way, but also courtesy waves, eye contact and so on). This is probably an indication of my own personal philosophy as well, but frankly I don't have the time or inclination to expand on that.

**I've got no gripes against people who choose to ride their bikes only when it's nice out. It's just that it takes a while to get a good sense of the road, the flow of traffic and how to ride effectively in a way that minimizes your interference with other traffic.

Friday, July 07, 2006 10:05:19 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Compliments of the day to you, or if you prefer, compliments of the season. Yes, I'm linking to urgentmessage.org which is an impressive repository of scam email (40,700 cases at present), set up as a sort of public service, in the hope that some potential victims might search for email addresses, phone numbers, etc. and thus come across proof that they are indeed being scammed and there is no MILLIONS OF US DOLLARS (US$) nor unexpected lottery wins, etc. The search functions allow you to find a whole slew of messages containing your favorite scam-phrases (258 containing "Calvary Greetings", 35 containing "ghastly plane crash", 48 using the name Wang Qin, and would you believe over a thousand which "come to you as a surprise"?). But perhaps the most interesting function (to me) is this site's ability to display links between related scams. Letters are graphically cross-referenced if they refer to the same phone number or email address, and phone numbers and email addresses are similarly linked if they are referred to in the same letter. Here are a couple of examples (Urgent Reply, We need your assistance).
Wednesday, July 05, 2006 4:12:49 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Tuesday, July 04, 2006
No, I didn't decide to take on bike thieves single-handed, ending up in the hospital or worse.
No, I haven't been spending every spare moment training for a mountain bike journey.*
Instead there's been quite a conspiracy of external factors that have pretty much wiped out the time I would ordinarily spend on blog entries. I had a couple of (work-related) visitors from sunny California (and the crunch-time work associated with their visits). And a couple of minor sporting events that have drawn my attention in a somewhat predictably obsessive way (World Cup, and now the Tour de France). And this year's journey to renowned music festival Tapestry Goes West (perhaps deserving its own entry, although I fear I'll end up writing more about buying loads of books in Hay, and watching England v. Portugal in a rugby-preferred pub in Port Talbot, Wales, then about the festival itself). And all sorts of work-related work that has somehow found itself all plopping onto my desk at once. Surely this will all evaporate soon.


*Although I have been doing a lot of investigation about the possibility of improving my touring bike's gear ratio for mountain climbing. It seemed like a fairly simple process to upgrade the rear cluster to an 8-speed (currently six), although I would need to obtain a new wheel with a slightly longer axle. Too bad the bike is of a retro style, most notably with 27" wheels which are not exactly easy to find in this day and age (the 700c is now standard). Switching wheels to 700c... well first of all it would probably require switching both front and back (additional cost) + tires for both. And it also seems I'd need to change the brakes as the current ones aren't very adjustable (when it comes to wheel diameter). So it seems I may be returning to my original plan: just putting on a different 6-speed cluster on the rear, one that has a serious granny gear. Plenty of wasted time getting to this conclusion, though.

bike | meta
Tuesday, July 04, 2006 12:21:08 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Thursday, June 22, 2006
Yesterday at lunchtime I was leaving my office with a small group of co-workers, and saw myself a curious sight. Three young gentlemen of the bike thief persuasion, wandering around the area. I had a feeling they were up to no good just by looking at them: two were on bikes, one on foot and all proceeding in a very casual, wandery sort of way. The odd thing was that the one on foot was wearing a pair of heavy looking work gloves (with shorts and a t-shirt). I sort of hung back to see what they were up to, and not much at all to my surprise they were up to no good. Two of them stopped their bikes at the side of the street, while the third went over to the railings and began to tie his shoe in the sort of manner you adopt when you're not at all actually interested in tying your shoe. Suddenly he had moved over just a couple of steps and began aggressively whacking (or something) at the lock on a mountain bike which was secured to the railing (correctly locked through wheels and frame, with double locks no less). I made a sort of approach and made some noises (perhaps a shout, it's hard to remember exactly) and just like that they wandered away (no doubt to find another bike nearby to work on). I figured they hadn't managed to steal the bike, and what more could I do (try to get into the building and ask around whose bike it was). So I felt really guilty when I returned later in the day and that bike wasn't there any longer (fortunately it was there again today; the owner or an associate must have seen the action and moved it inside to be safe).

I felt like I should have done something more, but what? Try to find a phone and call the police, when they were long gone and my description would have been very vague (three scrawny white kids in shorts and t-shirts, two of them on possibly stolen bikes)? Or university security (don't make me laugh)? Or charged in and attacked them (I felt like this is what I should have done, but wasn't carrying any sort of weapon besides the various parts of my body that are registered as deadly weapons)? Or maybe just followed them around to make them nervous? Instead I chose to continue on to lunch (and fret about whether I should have sawed off their legs or something).

Anyway, I was very surprised at their nerve, doing this in broad daylight, while loads of people were walking by (and seeming to ignore their antics completely). It's not really a surprise then that so many bikes disappear, and it makes me even more pleased that my workplace has a good quality off-street bike parking area where the bikes are not even visible to passersby.

Thursday, June 22, 2006 2:03:52 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [4]  | 
 Monday, June 19, 2006
Yesterday I went with a couple of other guys on a bike ride intended to provide us with some much-needed training for our September journey to the High Tatras in south Poland and north Slovakia. We're finding it a little difficult to get a really good sense of what the roads are like, other than "mountainous". The small snippets of information we are able to find do not exactly leave me brimming with confidence, as they tend to feature numerous impressive climbs several kilometers in length, and when the area is depicted in with distance on the x-axis and altitude on the y-axis it looks even more frightening. Also just about all we have been able to find focuses upon the immediate areas of Zakopane and Stary Smokovec which pretty much just covers the first two (riding) days of our trip. And mainly that we will be climbing a really impressive mountain to cross the border between Poland and Slovakia (something like going from elevation of ~600m to 1250m over the course of 40km. In feet and miles, I think that's a few miles up, over the course of a few hundred miles. At least, that's what my legs will feel like).

Of course there's no shortage of information about our next stop, Bardejov, another Bardejov site (an impressively preserved medieval guild town which like other preserved medieval towns saw its importance waning after the 16th century or so, thus leaving it preserved for the usual reasons of the expense of modernization and the relative unimportance in a warfare sort of sense. My activities there may involve some scoping out for a future journey with Mrs. Dunce who also has a great interest in that sort of place), but I've found nothing relevant to the cycle journey (e.g. just how nasty the hills are). And for our last main stop, Nowy Sacz ("The Tuscany of Poland"), there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of anything in English, much less a detailed description of the roads between Bardejov and there. Or between there and Krakow, other than the fact that it's in the middle of the Beskid Mountains which suggests that riding around there will be no picnic.

Aaaaaanyway, back to yesterday's ride. Because of the above, some of us have decided it would be a really good idea to get in some hill riding, operating under the logic that no matter what the mountain roads are like, it cannot hurt us to practice on some hills steeper than those available to us on our London commutes. So together with my psycho Texan lawyer friend Jason, I was up bright and early yesterday morning, cruising through the refreshingly empty streets of a London Sunday morning (less empty than you'd think, though), and rushing onto the train to Guildford that was departing that very moment. We met up with Gus, a local guy and friend of Jason's who promised a route that would put us through our paces. And we were not disappointed; there were some impressively steep climbs, and loads and loads of guys on road bikes, obviously in the hills for the same sort of reasons we were (you don't ordinarily see many road bikes at all around London. I guess they're all up in them thar hills)*. It was impressively/oppressively hot and muggy, I'm not sure exactly how hot but certainly in the mid 80s/high 20s. I also played around with using the GPS as a secondary navigation device (Gus being the primary navigation device). It was quite handy especially once I set one of the active displays to show the elevation, that way I could tell exactly how badly I was suffering (a handy secondary measure being the frequency of gasping). The only drawbacks were on some of the hills (cut into stone) with heavy tree canopies where I lost the signal for (a total of) more than a mile. Fortunately these conditions also protected me from the sun, but I still managed to get a nice English tan (red, red, red, ouch. I had a tube of sun cream with me, but left it in the bag where it would be safe). I ended up clocking just over 60 miles (including a dozen or so in London riding to and from the train station). One thing that became quite evident is that the gearing of my bike is not at all well suited for significantly hilly territory (my lowest gear being 37-23 at the moment). Although there was only one hill I wasn't able to finish, had to get off and walk the last 20-30 meters. But the other guys were suffering on it as well. Ah well, there are plans afoot to improve my gearing situation in the near future. By the time I got home, though, I wasn't much use for anything. Except as a salt lick for the lucky cat, and I was too tired to shoo her away.

Jason's report of the trip, with photos

*I see that the local cycle club of Godalming (near Dorking), has a really nice list of road routes in the area. In case I want something similar but in a different environment. But I'll probably do exactly the same route next time I want to taste some hills; I've marked the route in detail on my GPS so I can duplicate it exactly if I wish.

Monday, June 19, 2006 3:54:11 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [7]  | 
 Thursday, June 15, 2006
It's no secret that numerous British locations are ripe for mispronunciation, especially by American visitors (much to the amusement/irritation of locals). Places like Leicester (pronounced more like "Lester"*), Birmingham, Nottingham (and plenty of other -hams which mostly are pronounced more like "Birming'm", "Notting'm" and so on), the Thames ("tems"), and the list just goes on and on. But this entry is concerned about every once in a while when it goes the other way, where for a few certain places in the US, even BBC presenters (usually excellent in their correct pronunciation of various locales) repeatedly slip up. And we're not talking obscure anomalies like Versailles, Indiana (pronounced like "ver SAILS", of course). The three I've noticed the most are the city of Houston (TX), and the states Maryland and Michigan.

Houston: The correct pronunciation is of course something like "HYOO-ston" (where the last vowel is actually our old friend the schwa, English's favorite vowel in unstressed syllables, but as I already decided not to bother with any sort of unusual transcription characters, I'm sorta stuck making asides like this. Should have just embedded schwas and been done with it). As in "Houston, we've had a problem" (NASA audio link. Named after Sam Houston, who apparently pronounced his name that way. The British pronunciation is more like "HOO-ston", perhaps this is how the name of the "original Houston" (in Scotland) is pronounced (it's a minor enough place I've never heard its name said aloud). It's not simply a pronunciation difference between US and UK English overall, as the word "huge" has the same onset as the US pronunciation of "Houston" in both languages. The UK pronunciation is also not likely to be an extension of the pronunciation from other terms beginning with "HOU": the most common ones being "HOUR, HOUSE, HOUND" all of which would suggest pronouncing Houston as "HOUSE-ton". As, in fact, is the correct pronunciation of Houston Street in New York City.

Maryland: This is a particularly obvious one, possibly related to a tendency I've noticed in British English to give equal stress to different parts of compound words or compound-like words (terms "dandruff" and "vineyard" are pronounced as "DAN-druff" and "VIN-yurd" in US English, but more like "DAN-DRUFF" and "VINE-YARD" in UK English). The US pronunciation is something like "MAR-u-lund" (gosh, a couple of schwas would be so useful, but now it's far too late), while the UK pronunciation is "MARy-LAND". Like the name Mary + "land". I guess this is a straight-up trade for the zillions of US English speakers (including myself) who just cannot manage to correctly pronounce Marylebone (in London). I'm avoiding discussion of how the first syllable of Maryland should be pronounced (like "Mary"? or like "merry"? or like "marry"?), because my particular dialect doesn't distinguish between these vowels, and no doubt I'm mispronouncing it as far as the locals are concerned.

And then we get to Michigan, the one that seems to rile me the most of the three. I'm not sure I've ever heard a UK speaker pronouncing the name of this state correctly. The correct pronunciation is "MISH-i-gan" (more schwas needed in those unstressed syllables, gah!), but the standard UK English pronunciation is "MITCH-i-gan". If anything, I would have expected UK English speakers to get this right, following the slightly greater tendency of UK English to persist with slightly French pronunciations of words of French origin (such as the nasalized vowel at the end of the word "restaurant", although maybe this is just a sign of snootiness. A speaker of US English who nasalized that vowel would no doubt be asked to leave the country). Well, maybe it has something to do with guessing the pronunciation. There are plenty of words beginning in (consonant+ICH) or (consonant cluster+ICH), but most of them are either prefixed forms beginning with "bi" or "di" (bichromate, dichotomy, dichromate), in which the (consonant+ICH) is broken across multiple syllables, or highly obscure words (cichar, fichu, kichel, lich [less obscure if you're a nerd), lichi, nichil, vichy). There are a few common names which go all over the place (Michelle, Nicholas, Michael, Richard), but perhaps the deciding factor is the only really common word on the list, "rich". Pronounced like the UK English version of "Michigan". As usual, it can all be blamed on money.

* I'm not bothering with IPA when describing correct pronunciations, hence my descriptions may not be exactly right. But I think they get the idea across.

Thursday, June 15, 2006 3:36:16 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Monday, June 12, 2006
This weekend we had a guest in town: my sister's husband (Noblesvillain) was in London for his first stop on what looks like a punishing work trip around various parts of Europe. We decided to give him a true England experience, and (after taking a brief detour to Greenwich and the Prime Meridian) went to watch the England v. Paraguay World Cup match. We thought we'd take advantage of the nice day and join the crowds watching the match on the giant screen in Canary Wharf (instead of packing into a crowded, smoky pub). Due to a lack of time management (watching a character presentation about longitude, timekeeping and navigation at the Greenwich observatory, then wandering a few hundred feet east of the Prime Meridian to the point at which my GPS read 0 east), we arrived shortly after the first (and only) goal of the match. Watching the replays of the crowd reaction, it seemed like this was a good move: the goal happened so early in the match that many fans were equipped with full bottles/cans of beer or cider, thus their impassioned celebrations were characterized by gallons of liquids spraying in all directions.

However, our late arrival also meant that due to the crowds (estimated at 6000+) we had one of the worst spots you could imagine. We were off to the side of the square, behind a portable dumpster and somewhat in the underbrush. Our view of the match was fine except for a tree that entirely obscured the middle of the screen (most of the middle of the screen, I should say). Except for Mrs. Dunce who also had taller people standing in front of her. She couldn't see anything. Except the small group of young lads behind us who were engaged in stereotypical behavior of English youth (one was drunk enough to fall on the ground and lie there where his [also drunken] mates could take pictures of him. Until he roused himself enough to stand and vomit, not in our direction thankfully. And to throw beer on his friends [and assorted unlucky bystanders]. That was nice). At halftime we moved toward the front, still along the edge of the underbrush, and again next to a dumpster, but this time at a location where at least the Noblesvillain and I could see the screen without any obstruction. Mrs. Dunce, suffering from a height shortage, was not so lucky and chose this time to take her leave, heading for the shopping center until the game was finished.

About the middle of the second half (quite undistinguished as far as the football goes), there suddenly erupted some sort of ruckus very near us, with sudden sounds of broken glass and the sort of crowd movement that definitely indicates a fight. But unlike the sorts of sport-related fights I've seen before, it was more than two guys going at it, surrounded by a ring of onlookers, and soon to be broken up by police or security. Instead there seemed to be loads of people, throwing bottles at each other with full strength, swinging sticks (or something) at each other, and so on. Crowds of people were rushing in a panic from the scene, right in our direction, and even more concerning were the numbers of ill-tempered looking young men headed toward the fray. The trusty dumpster was suddenly very handy indeed as most of the action was on the other side of it. We decided, however, that we should amble away from the scene. Perhaps we were not running but our casual saunter out into the street had a sense of urgency about it. For a few moments the screen was shut off, displaying only a message saying something like "The live broadcast will not resume until order is restored".

But the broadcast resumed, and the Noblesvillain and I made our way back through the underbrush to a spot very near our original (non)viewing location, but where we were actually able to see the screen. This only lasted for five minutes or so, however, as the broadcast was interrupted again. Obviously the trouble was continuing in the same area (the remotely-controlled cameras were all pointing in that direction), so after a few minutes we decided to exit and find Mrs. Dunce in the shopping centre (ummm, if you decide to meet outside a Starbucks, make sure you indicate which one!). And it's a good thing we did; soon after we started walking there was a police announcement, indicating that the screening was finished and that people should make an orderly exit. As we had a head start, we were able to leave the area without incident.

It was very odd: there were no signs of police or security anywhere, until the very end when we were leaving and a few police vehicles showed up. It seems almost shocking that there would be no police presence at such a large public event, especially one involving football. News reports suggested that approximately 200 people were involved in the fighting, and that it may have stemmed from a conflict between Millwall and West Ham supporters. 16 people were injured, but no arrests were made.

Canary Wharf troubles in the news:
Sunday Life: "Mass brawls break out in London and Liverpool"
Mirror: "Home yobs face ban"
Independent: " Outdoor screenings suspended after brawl"
and the best of all, Telegraph: "Fans collect first points in the good behaviour league"

Monday, June 12, 2006 9:41:13 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [3]  | 
 Friday, June 09, 2006
Today the streets of London are full of cars flying St. George's flag; I saw literally hundreds on my way to work today (and I am using the term "literally" literally, not just as a run-of-the-mill intensifier). But today I was really looking out for flags representing other countries in the final. Besides England, here's how it broke down (all flag images can be seen at the Flags Of The World website)

3 Trinidad & Tobago
2 Poland (there may have been more; it's hard to distinguish Poland from England at a glance)
1 Ghana
1 USA
1 Australia
1 Brazil
1 Portugal
1 Ivory Coast (This may have been an Irish flag; they look very similar to me: Ireland; Côte dʼIvoire. Definitely orange and not red, so it wasn't Italy).

So there you have it. The flag count metric makes Trinidad & Tobago the clear winner. Place your bets now; at the moment you can get 1000-1 odds. Bet the rent money; this one is a sure thing!

Friday, June 09, 2006 11:20:17 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Thursday, June 08, 2006
For this year's World Cup final, I decided to participate in my department's World Cup sweepstake. The way it works: each participant pays a small sum into the pot, and is randomly assigned a team (thus the number of participants is limited to 32, the number of teams in the final). The holder of the winning team wins the bulk of the pot; the runner-up wins something as well, and there is also a booby prize for the holder of the worst-performing team (decided by goal difference if there are multiple teams on 0 points, which there surely will be). And what should fate deal me, particularly as a new British citizen?


Yes indeedy. By the luck of the draw, I have been forced to throw all of my football-supporting energy behind the U!!S!!A!!, perhaps negating all of this citizenship/naturalisation rigamarole. I'd better get on the ball at supporting my favorite players too then. As I am wont to do, I have chosen my favorites by randomly selecting from the roster. First of all my very favorite of favorites is Eddie Lewis, currently playing in England for the much-beloved Leeds United (How beloved? Google search for "hate Leeds" only gives 949 hits [comparable to the number of hits for "hate puppies", vs 71,700 for "love Leeds"). My second favorite player is Damarcus Beasley, a midfielder for much-beloved PSV Eindhoven. And finally, another defender, Oguchi Onyewu, currently playing for Standard Liege of Belgium.

Is one of my new favorites likely to score a goal in the World Cup? They have a total of 141 games of international experience, scoring 21 goals (0.15 per game). If we assume that the three of them all play in each match, scoring at a rate of 0.15 goals/match rate (not at all a given as the World Cup finals include stronger opposition), and that the US makes it through the group stage before exiting at the first round of the knockout stage (ie, playing 4 matches), (and a number of statistical assumptions that are totally violated anyway so you might think "why bother"), binomial calculations come up with a 47.8% chance that one (or more) of them will score.

Anyway, who cares if my new favorite players score as long as my designated favorite team wins it all. USA! USA! USA! Chant it with me! USA!!

Thursday, June 08, 2006 2:42:36 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  | 
 Wednesday, June 07, 2006

The other evening I was biking home and heard something I could have sworn was the song "Hava Nagila", played on the traditionally somewhat out-of-tune sound system of an ice cream truck*. I figured this must have been an auditory hallucination or something; perhaps an ice cream truck was playing a song that vaguely resembled Hava Nagila in some way, and the presence of numerous Orthodox folks going about their afternoon business may have been enough to cause this illusory conclusion. Sort of like a summertime McGurk Effect where you hear one thing, see another, and the visual input biases what you end up hearing.

In any event, I am pleased to discover (thanks entirely to yesterday's post by Quink) that it was not a hallucination or illusion but was in fact an ice cream truck playing "Hava Nagila". Uncle Doovy's kosher ice cream van** to be precise. I guess I live just a tiny bit too far from the most concentrated Orthodox neighborhoods to have seen him before. Or perhaps the one (non kosher) ice cream truck controls our street with an iron fist, and Uncle Doovy doesn't want to get whacked.

* For an interesting article about ice cream truck sound sytems, check out D.T. Neely's article "Soft Serve: Charting the aural promise of ice cream truck music", PDF link.

** How many boxes in the "wacky headline" checklist does the linked article tick?
Mister Softee's Kosher Kin Gets Warm Welcome
Feeling Peckish? London's Kosher Snack Mobile Minds the Gaps Between Meals
Wednesday, June 07, 2006 10:22:18 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [1]  | 
 Monday, June 05, 2006
Supporting my World Cup team(s?) There are once again great hopes for England in the World Cup (starting on Friday in case you're living under a rock or in many parts of the USA). Besides the inevitable media onslaught (Google News search for "Wayne Rooney" gives 9000 results at the moment) this is definitely reflected in the massive increase in the number of St. George flags on display


For example, when I ride my bike to work outside of World Cup season, depending on my exact route I typically see anywhere from zero to zero England flags. Today I saw them in more than 40 different places, ranging from the windows of council flats (typically the most heavily England-decorated), to white vans (as expected, the majority of vehicles flying the colours), to one snarling pitbull wearing an England bandanna. And no doubt there were more I didn't notice as my flag-spotting tendencies were somewhat curtailed by the need to watch traffic so that I could stay alive another day. Needless to say this boom in England flag-waving has not gone unnoticed by the handwringing brigade, mostly because the flag has been appropriated by certain groups as a sort of white power symbol (sorta like the Confederate flag, only in this case the St. George flag remains the official flag of England). Yawn.

My own allegiances are highly divided, especially with my recent naturalisation as a British citizen. Or at least you'd think so. But the truth is, I'm not sure whether my British citizenship entitles me to support England. I'm British but am I English? I suppose this really depends on the answer to the question "Were I fit enough to make the team, would I now qualify to play for England in the World Cup?" Concerning eligibility FIFA article 15 (Statutes in PDF) says this:

1. Any person holding the nationality of a country is eligible to play for the representative teams of the Association of his country. The Executive Committee shall decide on the conditions of eligibility for any Player who assumes a new nationality and for whom par. 3 of this article does not apply, or for any Player who would, in principle, be eligible to play for the teams of more than one Association due to his nationality.
2. As a general rule, any Player who has already represented one Association (either in full or in part) in an official competition of any category may not play an international match with another Association team.
3. If a Player has more than one nationality, or if a Player acquires a new nationality, or if the Player is eligible to play for several Association teams due to his nationality, the following exceptions apply:
(a) Up to his 21st birthday, a player may only once request changing the Association for which he is eligible to play international matches. A Player may exercise this right to change Associations only if he has not played at "A" international level for his current Association and if at the time of his first full or partial appearance in an international match in an official competition of any other category, he already had such nationalities. Changing Associations is not permitted during the preliminary competition of a FIFA competition, continental championship or Olympic Tournaments if a player has already been fielded in a match of one of these competitions.
(b) Any Player who has already acquired eligibility to play for one Association but has another nationality imposed upon him by a government authority, is also entitled to change associations. This provision is not subject to any age limits.

Quite clear then. I hold US and UK nationality, am over the age of 21 and and have not played for any Association, thus I am entitled to play for either the US or the UK at this time. However, it's a bit more complicated than this as the UK does not have a unified team in the World Cup. Fortunately some clarifying information is available at the England Football Online site (linky):

The national teams of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are, however, a special case because these four "home countries" are part of one national state, the United Kingdom. There is no such thing as English, Scottish, Welsh or Northern Irish citizenship.

The associations of these four countries entered an agreement regarding international eligibility in 1993 which provides that a player holding a British passport is eligible to play for the country of his birth, the country of the birth of either of his natural parents or the country of birth of any of his natural grandparents. If the player, his natural parents and his natural grandparents were born outside the U.K., he may play for the home country of his choice. Our understanding is that once a player has played for one of the home countries, even if it is only a friendly match, the 1993 agreement precludes him playing for another home country.


This is very interesting indeed -- it seems that at the moment I am very much a free agent, entitled to play for any of five national teams. Do I choose the long-established glory of England, the only World Cup winner among the five (but with perhaps more stringent selection standards)? Or do I go with official FIFA world rankings:

#5 USA (tied with Spain)
#10 England
#59 Scotland
#74 Wales (tied with Kuwait)
#96 Northern Ireland

Only the USA and England are in the World Cup final this year (current betting odds decisively differ from rankings: USA are currently 80-1 to win it all; England are second favorite at 7-1). Or maybe I go in the other direction, taking into consideration my poor level of world-class football fitness, and try and qualify for Northern Ireland, the lowest ranked team I qualify to play for. Or I could always rule out those countries I've never set foot in, leaving only Wales among the lower tier.

In any event, since I definitely qualify to play for England at the moment, there's no reason I cannot officially support them as well. So be prepared to deal with a drunken, lairy Dunce starting about 10am on the days of England games (10 June, 15 June, 20 June for sure), and when they finally (inevitably) crash out in the elimination rounds, be ready to console me (and/or fight me).

Monday, June 05, 2006 12:56:13 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [4]  | 
 Sunday, June 04, 2006

It's not unusual to find strange international products in London shops, but what about strange international versions of familiar products? I must admit I'm an occasional consumer of Coca-Cola products, and quite often our local shops stock an import version rather than the readily-available British products. I quite frequently find bottles from Poland, which does make some sense as there have been loads and loads of new Polish shops opening around London. But more curious are the bottles from Georgia (not the US state), all written in that distinctive Georgian script, except for a UK import sticker. It's amazing to consider that someone could profit from transporting a product thousands of miles to sell it in the UK when that same product is readily available here already (thoughts of ice cubes and Eskimos come to mind).

I'm by no means the first person to notice this; see the following posts from Anders Jacobsen a couple years back: 1; 2. But it's still quite unclear to me how this could work. Perhaps the answer's out there already; it's just quite hard to sort out anything relevant from the masses of information about Coca-Cola and (US state) Georgia.

Sunday, June 04, 2006 11:02:46 AM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [2]  | 
 Wednesday, May 31, 2006
One of my real difficulties with blogging is the extent to which it outright encourages obsessive-compulsive behavior on my part. Under ordinary circumstances I already score quite highly on whatever OCD scale is thrown at me. Although I no longer count continuously as I did as a youngster (counting under my breath simply for the sake of counting to a high number: 12,000 on one long family trip as I vaguely recall), I do occasionally fall into the number trap. The most recent example, determining which of the various local bus stops is actually closest to our front door:

414 paces: bus stop on Seven Sisters road serving routes 259/279 towards Manor House (and its counterpart headed toward Seven Sisters station and beyond just across the street, and approximately 50 paces further). Not very useful for my own journey to work, though. Hence,
588 paces: bus stop at Stamford Hill rail station, serving routes 253/254 (both directions approximately equidistant). However, on the way home it's slightly faster to get off a couple of stops earlier, getting home a little faster despite the added walking length of
614 paces: bus stop on Amhurst Park serving routes 253/254 towards Stamford Hill and Hackney. The best bet for minimizing the time waiting for a bus toward London, however, is a few steps further,
756 paces: bus stop on Seven Sisters Road, all four routes (253,254,259,279) converging. As Mrs. Dunce's commute can involve any of 253,254,259, this is her best bet (and often my own as well). Although sometimes a 259 may pass by while we trek the 342 steps between the nearest stop and this one.

I should note that there remain a few nearby bus stops not listed here: the 67 goes fairly close, along St. Ann's Road, but we seldom have occasion to take this bus. Another pair of 253/254 stops (between the two noted above) is closer to our house as the crow flies, but not on foot.

Anyway, erm, this is all to say that I occasionally fall into the trap of obsessive-compulsive behaviour, and that this is exacerbated by blogging as I occasionally feel additionally compelled to document these sorts of records rather than tracking for the short term, and then discarding them forever. As a frightening illustration of meta-obsessive-compulsive behavior here's a short list of my obsessive-compulsive topics, only covering my first six months of blogging (frankly, because even I have a limit, and I had no idea there were so many. Thus I haven't even reached what are in my mind the most egregious examples)....

What color is the new black?. In which I do a bit of Googling to try and decide which color (of many) is "the new black"
Saarbruecken. Saints of July 18, ranked in order of "saintliness"
Pub misery. Searching pub review sites to find the most miserable in North London.
London by Routemaster. First in a series of maps depicting the shrinking coverage of London's Routemaster buses.
Tip of the tongue. Documenting in slightly painful detail my long-running tip-of-the-tongue experience for the name "George Formby"
Could Do. Describing the tendency in UK English to use expressions like "Well, I might do."
Meal Time. Various English terms for meal times used in different parts of the world.
Recent speechifying. A shockingly dull breakdown of word frequency in a couple of speeches by George Bush and Tony Blair.
Beer festival. Box-ticking and ratings of beers consumed at a festival.
Eatin' vittles. Variation in the terms "vittles" and "victuals".
Not so obligatory plurals. Terms like "spectacles" and whether they should remain plural in phrases like "Spectacle wrangling".
Lady Marmalade. A bit too much on the origin of the term "marmalade"
London by Routemaster II. Another map depicting the further-shrinking coverage of London's Routemaster buses.
Breaking the Law, Breaking the Law. One of three sequential entries describing my attempt to cycle to work, strictly observing the rules and guidelines of the Highway Code. Sadly, based on a strict interpretation beyond the Highway Code itself.
Travel Games. Happy memories of childhood obsessions.
The Next Day. Overly detailed description of my journey to work through various roadblocks that remained in place a day after the London bombings of 7 July 2005.
Olympic Fever. My random selection of badminton as the sport I will pursue in the 2012 Olympics. At least now I can compete for Britain.
Of Nerds, Spazzes, Wonks and Dweebs. Etymology of various terms related to geekery.
Traffic Calming. A bit too much on the various devices and systems used for traffic calming. Here's where you find the difference between speed cushions and speed bumps.
More Ideal US Locations. Learning a little more about the cities that appear high on the list of "Your ideal US locations" generated by findyourspot.com
Route Planning. Fine details of minor variants in my commute.
Absorbubbles. Why does the nasty marketing term "absorbubbles" sound so bad?
Slug Bugs Gone Wild. Detailed rules for our own variant of the "Slug Bug" game.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006 12:35:19 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #    Disclaimer  |  Comments [0]  |