Under the Clocks

Last Sunday I met my Friend in Japan, who is no longer in Japan and three of her friends. One a paramedic who I think now trains paramedics, and a female couple, one a retired cop and the other a retired army officer. We got to know the first two through Ray's work, and the couple through our Friend in Japan. All are wearers of sensible shoes. 

They all have great senses of humour and we had a very nice lunch at Southbank. I left home at 11.40 to meet at 12.00 and I didn't get home until 3.00, so it must have been a good time. 

I told Phyliss I was meeting friends 'under the clocks' before going somewhere for lunch. He asked where was that. I replied it was public transport related and he straight away he came back with the correct answer. He is just so smart. 

So what does 'under the clocks' mean?

It means that you meet at the steps under the clocks at Melbourne Flinders Street Station. If your friend is late arriving, you might sit on the steps.

The clocks show the next departure time for most suburban train lines, as kind of an encouragement to dodge through moving traffic to catch your train. I've not looked closely at them for years but I do know they are now electronically connected to the train company's operation system. Into the 1980s they were manually adjusted by a person with a long stick. It was proposed to replace them with modern screens, but so great was the outcry, they were kept. I think very young people might struggle nowadays with clock faces, rather than digital. 

Meeting under the clocks has become somewhat redundant in the age of instant personal communication, yet plenty still do, and then one yet to arrive person will call their friend to say, I am five minutes away, when they are at least fifteen minutes away. I hear it on trams all the time. I am five minutes away, when I know very well they ten minutes away.

Photo from Alamy.com There are three more clocks to the left of this photo. 

Sparks, a bump and a foursome

I am not sure where these clips were first published, and so I cannot credit them. Claim them as yours if you will.

The Gold Coast railway line was suspended after this moron made damage, with quite a good electric flash display.

Sydney reintroduced trams in 1997 with this model. While it looks old fashioned, the mostly Australian made tram and its sisters were retired long before the normal lifespan of tram, say 30 years. It is a pity the video is cut short. Clearly the tram derailed as it left I guess the terrific Sydney Tram Museum shed. 

The annual NSW Hunter Valley steam train race exceeded itself this year. 

Some Spag Bol

Over two months ago now, I met Sister and her daughter Jo for a meal before they went to see a musical show, I think Beauty and the Beast. I asked Sister, where is this Spaghetti Tree? Brother, you've been past it a million times. Just be there. Bloody bossy school teacher.

And she was right, I had been past it many times, and Spaghetti Tree was fantastic. Food was great, staff great, the décor so interesting and the entertainment, amazing.

We began with French sounding music played on a piano accordion. 

Then to Italian music with violin. It seems I didn't take a photo when he switched to Russian music on another instrument. 

There were lots of photos of film stars spread across the walls. 

 I highly recommend the Spaghetti Tree, even though I am take it leave person about pasta. 

Demented yet?

Jabblog wrote about decorum, which made me think of a recent dilemma I felt about manners and formality. Instinct told me one thing, modernity told me another. 

HH, is my female neighbour, and since her kindness when Ray died, and with her picking me up at hospital twice after procedures whereby I had to be escorted home, I count her as a friend. At 77, she is quite tech savvy and as I have mentioned we check in on each other by text each morning to check, as she says, we are not dead in bed. 

Without being pretentions, she is very middle class and financially comfortable. Her husband is in care and no longer recognises her. In the future, I'll refer to her as HH.

My dilemma was how to introduce her to Phyllis and Kosov to HH. She is 77 and they are 21. Instinct told me I should introduce her to them as Mrs H. I wish I'd asked you all, your advice in advance but you can tell me now I made a grave error when I introduced her to Phyllis and Kosov as H, her first name, rather than Mrs H. 

HH didn't seem to have a problem with being introduced to them by her first name, and as they were sitting opposite each at my birthday meal out, they had a good chat. 

I can hear Ray in my ear, 'You are living in the past, you stupid old man'. But my connection with HH and with Phyllis are both important to me, and I wanted to get it right. It seemed less formal was right.

A few days later Phyllis mentioned that he had seen HH in the lift and she didn't recognise him. I found this hard to believe. Phyllis is dark skinned, fairly obviously gay and HH would have seen the lift number of the floor he arrived from. When I asked her, she said, 'How could I possibly not know him? I only met him a week or so ago, and I would remember him. This person had forgotten his keys or something.' 'Phyllis, did you talk about keys to HH?' 'Yes.' 

After gathering all the information, I sent a text to HH. 'Do you want me to call your daughter for her to book you into the dementia home with BH?'

She did not reply. Sometimes I go too far, as I may have with this post. 

Later clarification: It was of course meant to be humorous and I know HH well enough to know she would take it as a joke. She  has made the same joke about herself at times if she forgets something. I would not make a joke like that if I thought she had any sign of dementia. She also talks to anyone in the lift and makes eye contact, as she did with Philip. I don't really regret making the joke and it still puzzles me. Philip is quite certain and has no reason to lie and it is not like HH to not remember someone, especially as he does stand out a bit. 

Since then I've emailed her to ask if she wants to attend an information session being given to the residents of a nearby apartment building regarding the 'chiller plants' related to the new Anzac Station in front of their building. I swung an invitation with bring a friend, so HH is coming with me as she is interested too.  

I is a fashionista

I was kind of aware of a woman sitting nearby on her own when I brunched with Gazza. I thought she was going to give us tea and sympathy about our coffee in paper cups when she approached us as she was leaving. 

But no. She said, I saw you two guys arrive and noticed you at times and you both look so stylishly dressed. WTF?

You would never think Gazza was gay by the way he normally dresses, but this day he was wearing a deerstalker tweedy kind of cap. His jacket was was a bit canvas looking, and quite nice. Instead of his usual baggy blue jeans, he was some kind of black pants. I didn't notice his shoes.

I was wearing my usual slim fit black Levi jeans, a collared dark blue and white fine checked shirt over a black tee with my dark blue Sketchers pull on shoes, and to brag, my designed in Italy, and made from New Zealand wool and French linen made somewhere or t'other Rodd and Gunn jacket. Since my scalp melanoma surgery, I wear either a Puma baseball cap or dark blue brimmed faux straw hat. I was wearing the latter. Phyllis has repainted my right hand small fingernail with glossy black nail polish. Apparently I can answer if questioned about my black nail, it marks my support for the empowerment of women, so that's ok with me. 

This woman just went on and on about how stylish we looked. Again, WTF? This is how I dress every day. She was visiting Melbourne with her children and they had visited to see Cold Play perform. She was an attractive woman in her forties, nicely dressed too, but without the Melbourne black clothing look. 

She was visiting from Rockhampton, in Queensland.  Gazza said to me, that explains it, meaning she did not have good taste if she thought we were fashionable. I said to the woman, You've truly made my day, thank you. She was quite lovely. I wonder if she noticed my black fingernail. I doubt it from her angle.

Truthfully, I like my little fingernail painted in high gloss black because it looks pretty. Gazza and I decided we are fashionistas. 

Back in town the next day I bought my new wallet. Meat is so expensive and apparently so is animal hide to make wallets. It was only two years ago when Ray bought me a new wallet for my birthday and it was nice, but the pocket for the notes was too small. I messaged Gazza that I was buying a new wallet suitable for a fashionista. For some reason I decided I needed a new wallet and I had a $10 credit to use. The wallet, the only one I could a could find to suit me, was priced at $80. Many wallets were locked in display cases. I waited for quite a while to find staff to open one case. Lordy, these wallets are costing three figures. Back to my original choice and I took it to the counter to pay.

A brief wait for for the person in front of me to finish their transaction. My $10 credit was applied to the $80 price, and the register showed I owed $80. My simple mind doesn't go much beyond adding 2+2 equals 4. Yes, I'm sure that is correct and a wallet for sale at $80 less a $10 discount should not equal $80. I pointed this out to staff, who immediately replied that my wallet was not discounted because the sales only applied to other brands. 

Now, I was getting clarity of thought. Staff is missing the point. $80 less $10 does not equal $80. That is not too hard. 'Ah', staff confessed. 'I see your point. I will reverse the transaction. My apologies'. Except she couldn't and asked other staff to help, and they could not. Neither was authorised to do so because the discount had already been applied. The floor manager was called and she fixed the problem. 

Start the process again. Hey, now I only owe $10. Sadly staff picked this up, cancelled the transaction and tried again, and still I only owed $10. History repeated itself one more time. Call the floor manager again, but a different one who is authorised to fix problems, the one who had earlier opened the glass case for me. 

She did finally fix the problem, and after me being there for over fifteen minutes trying to pay for my new wallet, gave me discount of 10%. So the $80 wallet cost me about $61 and rather a lot of time. A small paper carry bag was given to me for free as well. 

It was frustrating for a retired person who is so busy being retired, but no floor staff were to blame for a system failure. 

My new wallet is good but blocks my public transport card being read by readers. I have to take it out of my wallet. I will work on this. 

Btw, Phyllis cooked me a Railway Curry tonight and it was delicious. During the times of the Raj, it was served to train travellers en route. And my Aged Care meals were delivered too, to my door. The lass was patient as I filled in my next order. She brought a form for my following order so I can slowly review what is on offer. The food looks good. More on that after I've eaten some. 

Monday Mural

I'm joining with Sami and others for Monday Mural. 

I visited VicRoads in Carlton to change my car ownership to me, rather than Ray, and apply my pensioner concession. I paid for the car anyway. It should be in my name. I lunched at Brunetti's in Lygon Street and chose the pensioner special of four different arancini balls. all sitting in a nice sauce, and of course coffee. Terrific.

On the walk back to get a tram home, I spotted this laneway mural. What a shame it has been defaced. 

Phone Museum

Lots of photos and I hope you enjoy the memories. 

A new museum opened in Hawthorn, a local area known as Glenferrie. There used to be one at the old Richmond Post Office.

It took me about half an hour of searching to find who owns this. It is still not clear to me who owns the site.

Charity Size:

Small

Who the charity helps:

• Adults - aged 65 and over
• Children - aged 6 to under 15
• Youth - 15 to under 25

Date established:

26 April 2018

Last reported:

20 December 2023

Next report due:

31 January 2025

Financial year end:

30/06

Summary of activities

We operate museums in Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane, which maintain heritage telecommunications of national significance. We provide programs and educational tours for schools as well as the general public in the area of telecommunications.

It is called the National Communication Museum and is appropriately located in an old telephone exchange (putting you through now caller).  

I certainly remember these public phones. Earlier phones had you rolling a coin into a slot. Press button A to load your coin to speak. Press button B to retrieve your coin if your call did not connect. I recall button B made a kind of buzz noise as it returned your non existent coin. Is below a typewriter with circular typing keys?

We had an Ericofon. You had to be careful when on a call and you put the phone down, as sitting it upright would cut the call. 

This phone was a bit of fun.

An inert phone exchange board.

A very active phone exchange board whereby you plug in cords and operate switches that made many different noises. 

Oh yes. I was more attractive in the 1990s and I remember sending naughty photos using one of these web cams. 

It doesn't seem so long ago.

This does. They keys were fairly light touch.

A proper Post Master General phone box.

They were soundproofed and the interior painting was I guess to deter graffiti. 

James, each person must weigh 79kg. 

The building was nice enough but across the road was the old Post and Telegraph Office. 

A very nice building. 

This was rather trippy to enter.

A Marconi cypher machine. 

A code breaker, I think.

I was there and it was wonderful to see the internet bloom, though so frustrating at times. Apparently one of these computers makes the internet phone lone connection sound, but the area was so busy, I couldn't find out which one. 

I remember this phone style but they were rare.

Ohh, some of these look very familiar.

I was once an avid fan of phone banking, and paying bills by phone was so simple.

An old candlestick phone so often seen in mid twentieth century American films.

The entry fee wasn't cheap, at something like $25 but an annual pass was a bargain and I rather wish I'd bought to revisit.

I filmed some short videos. The first is surveillance cameras, with Big Brother watching you.

The second is, would you believe, is a talking clock machine. "At the third stroke, it will be 5.02 am and ten seconds."

The third is a creepy robot lady I was a little scared of. She did not seem aware of people as obstacles, so people stepped out of the way. Had they not, maybe she would have diverted around them.