What I did at work today

Many people don't understand what I do at work, so today I thought that I would explain in simple language some of the things which I did today.

At work, we used to have a thermal printer which printed sticky labels; we would place these underneath the seats of the chairs that we produce, so that we (and the customer) would always know what kind of chair s/he had and when it was produced. The printer came with software which could print labels, but we didn't use this much. The main reason was that the software couldn't connect to our ERP program and thus was useless in printing labels directly from work orders. The second reason was that every few months, the program would deliberately mix letters up when printing, causing us to renew the license (free, but still a chore).

I wrote several programs to counter these shortcomings. The most important was one which connected directly to the ERP program (via a documented but difficult interface); the user would key in a work order number, the program would query the database and would then produce labels with the chair's part number, customer details, etc. The program was also equipped with a numerator: as we put one label underneath the seat and one on the plastic bag in which the chair was shipped, we needed to print two labels per chair, but count them identically. As I had full control of what was printed, this wasn't a problem. On the other hand, we also supply chairs in cartons; these have a special, generic label giving the part name along with a barcode; for these, we only needed to print one label. With a little bit of ingenuity, the program was able to handle both double and single quantities, printing the correct numbers on each label.

The generic barcodes were printed from a simple database program which I wrote. Instead of designing different labels, I realised that each label has exactly the same constituent parts: a title (eg Realto chair with adjustable armrests), a descriptor (Tahiti 200 blue upholstery) and its barcode. Once I had this, the design of the label was simple. The user would choose a chair from a database ordered by family (eg Realto) and then would key in how many labels to print. These programs have been working for about four or five years.

Unfortunately, we had a fire in the factory and the thermal printer was destroyed (and of course, the morning of the fire was when we had a new printer head installed at a cost of $500). A few days ago we obtained a new printer; it's not the same model and not from the same company. The reason why we chose this company is that they market a program which is supported by our new ERP program; the latter can output data from work orders to the former, which will then cause the labels to be printed.

Well, yes, in theory. In practice, it took the installer and myself a few hours to design a label and get all the relevant fields printed in the correct position. The most complicated part was the numerator, and even then we didn't get it right. I had told the ERP company that we needed two labels per chair, so the procedure which outputs the data doubled the amount. Correct, but the label program numerator interpreted this as is, which is wrong.

If the order was for five chairs, then there should be two labels numbered 1/5, two labeled 2/5, two labeled 3/5, etc. We were getting one label 1/10, one labeled 2/10, etc. Not good. The temporary solution was to halve in the ERP program the number of labels being printed, and then do two print runs, but this obviously was only a stop gap solution.

The label program comes with virtually no documentation, so it wasn't a question of RTFM. Today I had enough time to play a little with the program, and found to my pleasure that it was possible to add a little code - event handling. The numerator is really two fields: one a real numerator, and one the total number of labels to be printed. The latter was easy to fix: the field received the code "value = value / 2", and thus printed half the number of labels to be printed, which is of course the correct number of chairs. Encouraged by this, I had to think a little before I came up with a function for the numerator - value = (value - 1) / 2 + 1. When value is 1 or 2, the result will be 1; when it's 3 or 4, the result will be 2. Just what the doctor ordered.

Just to be safe, I kept the original label which we designed with its 'pure' numerator; this will be used when printing labels for chairs which are supplied in cartons, or for stacks of chairs (where each chair needs its own label, but they are supplied in stacks of ten).

At the moment, we're using labels which were supplied with the printer and aren't the same size as our original ones. Whilst this doesn't matter too much with labels printed with the external program, it made labels printed with my database program look bad. Early on, I realised that this was because there was a height problem: my program thought that the labels were (say) 4 cm in height whereas in fact they are 4 inches high. Although the printer came with a fair amount of documentation (on cd), I couldn't see where the label height was defined - until I remembered that it was defined in the printer setup dialog. Sure enough, I found the definition there. I'll change the current value when we get some rolls of "our" labels delivered.

Other bits and pieces were explaining to users how to get correct data from the ERP program, and altering a few reports in order to add ordering fields. As I term it, this is easy stuff for man, but hard stuff for mankind. The mantra is business is "keep the customer happy", and I do my best to keep my customers (ie other users) as happy as possible by giving them solutions as quickly as possible.

More music to sleep by

A copy of "The Pearl" by Brian Eno and and Harold Budd came my way the other day. The editorial review says "This sublime, tranquil recording features 11 haunting ambient tone poems for treated piano. They are crafted from simple chords, arpeggios, or melodies that are frequently trailed by delicate electronic whispers to produce dreamy results" which is enough to sucker me into listening to the tracks.

Unfortunately my ears tell a different story; they heard meandering touches on the piano which didn't add up to anything. I probably will be passing my copy on to someone else who might appreciate it more. The only reason why I might keep it is as an antidote for insomnia, a complaint from which I am most certainly not suffering these days. As such it serves as a companion to the later "Equitorial Stars"; there too I was seduced by the description.

I wonder what my correspondents (see my previous post) would make of these cds.

Experiment

I tried an experiment the other day: I posted a letter to the Fairport Convention mailing list asking people to listen to the two traditional songs ("Killarney Boys Of Pleasure" and "The Water Is Wide") which I have posted at Soundclick. I was interested to see what people would make of the tracks and even asked for suggestions what other traditional songs I might record.

I was slightly disappointed to see that only two people bothered to write to me, and neither of those people found the music interesting. This was the more illuminating comment about Killarney Boys: "I hear a lot of music and this must fall into the category of New Age but due to its mechanical construction (I assume you did most of this via computer), it sounds highly elevator-like. Less melodic than multi-layered with simple themes, it doesn't grab this listener. I praise it for its simplicity but that, in effect, is also its downfall. (referring to Killarney Boys of Pleasure - the title of which set me up for something remotely Celtic or trad sounding...)"

The last phrase is the most telling: there was no way in which I was going to perform a traditional Irish tune in a traditional Irish manner. Obviously the cross-genre arrangement wasn't startling enough.

An interesting side effect of my post was that my Soundclick page received many hits on the following days, along with a good ratio of plays and even downloads. As a result of this, "Killarney" jumped about 100 places in the Soundclick Irish chart and was placed at #23. This way, many more people are going to hear the track, probably people who are more used to eletronically produced music.

I listened to some other electronic tracks on that chart, and it seems that I didn't go far enough in electronifying the music. I really should have done a trance version based on the tune!

But ... in the end, I make music primarily for myself. I have to love the finished product, as well as make it as good as I can. If I am not true to myself and the music does not reflect this, then how do I expect anyone else to like it?

The bottom line of the experiment is that my music is still waiting to find its audience. I won't hold my breath during the process.

1970 - Nice enough to eat/Habonim camps II

1970 was a personal turning point in many respects.

I went to my first rock concert in mid-December 1969, and I was slowly but surely entering the world of 'underground music'; a fair amount of what was to become known as 'progressive', but also large amounts of folk and acoustic material. That first concert was headlined by Ten Years After, supported by Blodwyn Pig and Stone The Crows. At the time, I thought that STC were bad, TYA were so-so, and BP were excellent. Quite on what basis I decided this, I'm not sure, as I wouldn't have heard much music to compare them by. As it happens, I never saw TYA nor BP again, although I saw STC two more times, and each time they seemed to improve, being very good at the end.

Sometime in February 1970 I bought my first rock lp, the excellent "Nice enough to eat", which cost the princely sum of 14/6 (about 72p) in those pre-decimal days. It played for about an hour and cost about a third of a normal lp, so buying it was a no-brainer, as we say these days. I imagine that I played the grooves off that lp, as did many a young lad then, and it also served Island records well, as I have owned at one time or another records by nearly all the groups featured here (not necessarily the records from which the songs were taken).

As it happens, I have recently downloaded this record from the Internet, although in the cd age, it is known as 'Nice enough to all join in': nine tracks from NETE, along with all twelve from the previous and less well known Island sampler, "You can all join in". I also own this record, although played it much less. The material from the earlier sampler tends more to the blues and rock end of the scale as opposed to the folk, jazz and progressive end, and found much less favour in my ears.

Fortunately, I have the missing songs from NETE on cd, so making a complete replacement of this lp won't be a problem. While I'm at it, I intend to replace the opening song, 'Cajun woman' by Fairport Convention. I have never liked this song and don't see why I should put it on the collection. On the other hand, I'm not sure with which song I'll replace it from 'Unhalfbricking'; probably 'Genesis Hall', but I could change my mind.

About two months later, I went to see another triple bill: Fotheringay, John and Beverly Martin, Nick Drake. The case of ND is interesting: at the time, his name was well known in my circles, as he has a track on NETE, "Time has told me". But I have absolutely no memory of his appearance (neither what he looked like nor how or what he played); whilst this in itself doesn't mean anything (I went to concerts about once every two weeks and could hardly remember everyone), I did keep a record of all the concerts, and in one case annotated the listing of someone who was supposed to have played but didn't show up with the note "didn't play". As Nick doesn't have this note, I imagine that he did play. As it happens, a few days ago I was looking at one Nick Drake site (in preparation for his "new" cd), and someone was discussing the few concerts that he did perform. Included was the show that I attended. All three acts were signed to Joe Boyd's 'Witchseason' company and he produced their records.

---

There was a misunderstanding regarding which Habonim camp I was supposed to attend that summer, or maybe a misprint regarding the ages. Anyway, I went to a camp with teenagers in the year group above mine, and as a result knew hardly anybody. It didn't matter: I very quickly became friends with a few boys with remarkably similar backgrounds and tastes to mine, friendships which were very strong and which I thought would last forever (ten years would be more accurate).

We spent that summer rolling around the hills and valleys of Herefordshire. At every camp, we would pack up and go on a hike whose length depended on the campers' age: the young children went out for just one day, the next age group went out for three days (i.e. two nights spent out in bivouac tents which we had to carry), and at this camp we went out for five days. Although it might sound like a slog, these hikes were actually great fun, and a good way to get to know everybody.

The hike in 1970 started on my birthday, and I assumed that this year I was going to escape being tossed up in a blanket. Little did I know. After we arrived at our makeshift campsite, built a bonfire and had supper, someone reached into their rucksack and brought out ... a slightly battered birthday cake! I was very surprised and also very happy.

Another event which I had almost forgotten took place on the penultimate day of the hike. It must have been raining very hard for we spent the night in a village infants' school as opposed to camping in our tents. The evening's activity was based around readings from the poetry book "The Mersey Sound"; to quote from this book's wiki, "The book had a magical effect on many people who read it, opening their eyes from "dull" poetry to a world of accessible language and the evocative use of everyday symbolism". It certainly opened my eyes, and when I returned home, I bought the book and commenced writing poetry.

After the five day hike which took us through Hereford itself, we then settled down on the banks of the River Wye and learnt how to canoe: we had three days of canoeing down the river in front of us. The first morning I went out with a girl in a two person canoe (I don't remember how I came to be with her), and we capsized within a hour as we went over rapids. After lunch I decided to continue in one of the one person canoes. I must have found this very boring, as the next day found me sharing with another girl. I think that we must have switched partners twice a day, as I can remember sharing with quite a few girls. This was an excellent way to spend time, and also get to know the other person.

After the camp finished, two of my good friends from the previous year came to stay with me for a few days. They had been to the camp to which I was supposed to have gone, and took great pains to tell me how much I had missed (maybe I too was missed). I didn't feel disappointed at all, as I felt that I had had a wonderful two weeks and having spent them with older people, I felt more grown up and mature.

Winter camp though saw me back with my normal peer group. Another great time was had by all, especially by myself, receiving an eye-opening sexual initiation (although I was prepubescent at the time and so could only take advantage of what was offered me in a fairly innocent way).

Roll on 1971....

Apres le feu

Since Monday morning, the office staff at work has been working out of our old offices. Miraculously, there was no damage done whatsoever to the building, and all the equipment contained within worked immediately without any problem. We don't have mains electricity yet - and probably won't have for some time, as the main line was cut on the night of the fire for safety reasons - and so all the electricity which we're using comes from a generator. This is being turned off every evening at 6pm and turned back on again at 7am the next morning in order to save money. Whilst nobody is in the building during those hours, there are machines which normally run all the time - fax machines and servers - and turning these off every evening is annoying. We give the fax machine a "follow me" instruction every evening so that the faxes go elsewhere, and backups (which normally run in the middle of the night) are now run first thing in the morning.

It seems that we won't be staying in this building much longer. Alternative temporary sites for production have been found, and one of those sites contains office space. So maybe in two weeks we'll be moving, until a permanent site is found. Once the insurance people have finished their work, I imagine that the factory building will be demolished and the area cleared. Then a new building, more modern and more suitable, can be built on the area.

Early days in Habonim

In late July 1966, just before my tenth birthday, my parents bundled me off on a long train journey, first stopping at Cardiff and then continuing to Ripon in Yorkshire. There a few other small children and I were taken to an open field with some tents. My introduction to the wonderful world of Habonim had begun.

Habonim (literally "the builders") is a Jewish youth movement which had been started in England in 1928 and was similar to the Scouts, bar a few crucial differences. The Scouts were all about scouting, had a quasi-military system of organisation, were quite fanatical in their pursuit of badges and were boys only. Habonim was a liberal hot-pot of ideology (the three main tenets being Judaism, Zionism and Socialism), was very relaxed and had both boys and girls.

I don't know if my parents knew at the time exactly where they were sending me, but my father had been a member of Habonim in Cardiff during the 1930s, so I imagine that they thought that the camp would be good for me.

I must have spent the first week of the two week camp wandering around in a mental state which could be described as "shell shocked". I knew nobody and could barely understand what was happening around me, which was not made any easier by the fact that pidgin Hebrew phrases were being bandied about all the time.

It probably rained a lot and I slept in a cavernous and dark tent. I remember that there was a boy called Simon who caught tonsillitis after a few days and disappeared, never to be seen again. He came from Birmingham, and was replaced by another boy called Simon who also came from Birmingham. No wonder I was confused.

On my tenth birthday, the entire camp got together in the huge marquee, and for the first time in my life I was tossed up in a blanket in order to celebrate - frightening at first but I quickly learnt how to adapt. We also played some games, the likes of which I had never seen before, whose main intent seemed to be making fun of some unfortunate soul. As it was my birthday, I was one of the 'lucky' children chosen, but as it happens, I was mentally agile enough to succeed at the game and so not be ridiculed.

Obviously I must have started wising up, for I came home full of enthusiasm for the camp and vowed to go again. Little did I know that the foundation had been laid/the seeds had been sown for most of my future life.

The next camp was over the new year at Horsham, Surrey. As this was wintertime, we were inside buildings instead of in tents. Again I knew nobody, but at least I knew a few words of pidgin Hebrew and was able to keep my head above water.

The next summer, I finally met some children for the second time and had a very good time. I have some pictures of myself at this camp: I look like a little imp. I also met some children with whom I would spend the next ten years.

There was a foot and mouth epidemic in the winter of 1967, so the winter camp had been cancelled. Instead I went to London for a week, stayed with someone whom I didn't know (and have never met since) in a flat - yet another first for me - and went on a whirlwind of activities, again mainly with children whom I had never met before.

The next few years showed a consolidation: I began to know more and more children, fitting in very well. I played my first chord on an acoustic guitar and began writing songs (although I only wrote lyrics at first). I learnt more and more Israeli folk dances and learnt more about Israeli history. In the summer camp of 1969, I felt "master of the game", and miraculously everyone that I knew was in the same group as I.

More pictures

These speak for themselves

The results of fire

I haven't had internet access at home for the past few days; I traced the problem to a faulty network card, but wasn't able to do much about it. Yesterday I was able to enter the office building at work; I extricated about eight computers so that most of the office staff could start work in a temporary office, and I also took a network card for myself. Once home (much much later in the evening) I installed the card and within a few moments I had internet access.

It's amazing considering how much damage had been done to the rest of the factory that the offices were completely untouched. When I went in, there was no electricity and the air had a bad smell to it. There have been people from the Ministry of the Environment onsite since the fire started, and they now say the air is safe to breathe.

Here are some photos, some of which appear to have been taken from a miniature helicopter. The first is a view from the kibbutz, which is higher than the factory; the photo was taken about 200 metres from my house, from which the factory can't be seen as there are trees in the way.

A huge plume of smoke:

Fire by night:

The final picture was taken the next day and shows quite clearly the extent of the damage done. The office block is the unscathed building at the bottom of the picture, and for those who care, my office is the right most window, next to the tree.

See how twisted and damaged is the roof; one can only imagine how high the temperature was in order to create such mayhem.

How one's life can change (part 2)

What I really wanted to write about this morning but didn't have time to do is to describe what it's like to wake up in the morning and know that one's life will never be the same again.

What has happened is not the same as moving to a different company and job. It's having the same job but moving to a new location. I imagine that quite a few people wondered this morning whether they still have a job, but on that score I can be quite definite. According to the plans arising from this morning's emergency meeting, everyone is carrying on. True, most of the production line workers will be on a forced holiday until further notice, but we do intend to get production back online as soon as possible.

I have got several responsibilities to discharge, primarily getting the offices working again. It doesn't seem likely that we will be allowed to work in the offices (which weren't damaged) due to the poisonous smoke still emitting from various places, but I am hoping that I will be able to enter the building, retrieve several computers and sundry equipment and set up a temporary office somewhere on the kibbutz.

More later.

How one's life can change in a minute

I went home from work yesterday at 17:20, which is about normal (we start at 7am, by the way). At about 17:45 my factory went up in flames.

From what I could see, most of the production facilities were completely destroyed, although the office block (which is where I work and so is important to me) seemed to be untouched. The police wouldn't let people get close enough to see what was going on - for obvious reasons - so it was difficult to judge last night how much damage was done. The huge plume of black smoke was a clue to the amount of damage.

The story began to be broadcast from the 7pm radio news, and from that moment on there was about an hour in which my phone was in constant use, mainly from people calling me to find out what was happening. We didn't "make" the television news as we had to compete with several, slightly more important stories.

I couldn't write about this last night as at the moment I don't have an internet connection at home, and of course I couldn't post from my office. I'm writing this on a computer in the kibbutz accounts office.

Shortly I'm going to down to investigate the ruins, and apparently we're going to have an emergency meeting to decide what can be done in the coming month. What about all our customers and the chairs which we have produced for them?

This story is somewhat dwarfed by other natural disasters, such as floods in Britain or a huge fire in California, not to mention human stories, such as a cassette from hostage Gil'ad Shalit or the summit meeting at Sharm El Sheik.

More later when I know more.

More songs with odd time signatures

With thanks to the online community, I received a pointer to a video of 1970 Fairport Convention playing "The Journeyman's Grace". This is a song written by Dave Swarbrick and Richard Thompson which was played regularly during 1970, but Richard left before it was recorded on 1971's "Angel Delight". Thus it is especially pleasing to see this video with Richard playing and singing.

Whilst the chorus of TJG is in straight 4/4, the verse is anything but. There are two bars of 5/4 followed by two bars of 4/4; two bars of 5/4, one bar of 4/4 and then one bar of 3/4 leading into the chorus. That 3/4 bar is a trick recycled from 'Now be thankful' and probably appears elsewhere as well.

Simon Nicol, then 19 years old, is blissfully unaware than in a few months he is going to become Fairport's sole guitarist as well as taking on a fair amount of vocals. In the video, he is hiding at the back, strumming away and seemingly oblivious to the peculiar rhythm.

Another song which I found on YouTube is Pentangle's "Light Flight". This was used as the theme music for a BBC drama called "Take three girls" which I remember watching, although I imagine that I was too young to appreciate fully what was going on. I have this song somewhere at home - probably a Pentangle collection - but I never listen to it as I don't find Pentangle conducive to my ears (don't know why). Anyway, this song is a masterpiece: the opening section is in 6/4. The verse alternates bars of 5/4 and 7/4, although I see this as two bars of 5/4 with a 2/4 bar thrown in to complicate matters. The middle section again is in 6/4.

I thought that I would check and see whether I have used any differing time signatures within songs. I know that somewhere I used the "3/4 leading into chorus" trick, but I think that was in some song which never received much listening time, so I can use it again without fear of sounding repetitive. I wrote a song called "Chance encounter" which has an intro in 5/4 which leads into the 3/4 verse. As it happens, this song was written in 1978 - the same year that I heard the Albion's "Lay me low" which uses the same transition - but I'm certain that I wrote my song before I heard the Albions. In fact, that intro probably derives from my discovering that Fairport's "Autopsy" was primarily in 5/4.

At the moment I'm working on a new arrangement of song which originally was called "Before noon" before transposing into "Morning man". This time round, I'm playing the song in 5/4, although somewhere a 6/4 bar crept in. The playout is in 6/4, again using that "Lay me low" trick. In order to upset the apple cart, at one point in the song there's a modulation; the bar prior to this is deliberately shortened to 3/4 whilst the rest of this section is in 5/4.

The happiness formula

Turned on the television a few minutes ago and started watching a progamme on BBC World called "The Happiness Formula" (although I didn't realise this at the time). At first I didn't pay too much attention, but when I did, I realised that it was about making people feel happier, a subject which I have had need to read about. The books which I have read were written by American pyschologist Martin Seligman, and within a minute to my surprise (or maybe I wasn't too surprised) and pleasure on screen appeared Mr Seligman himself.

The programme talked about things which can make us happier (marriage, community) and things which we might think make us happier but don't (children, money). For someone who has read Seligman's books, this wasn't too much of a relevation, but I imagine that it was for "The man in the street".

The programme finished with Seligman being offered a challenge by the Scottish government: to improve the national level of happiness (as defined presumably by the results of psychometric tests) by 15% within a few years. I intend to follow this, as I wouldn't mind my own level of happiness being increased by 15%.

Rise up like the sun

Before I get started on the real content of this entry, I just want to note that I spent about 30 minutes writing a blog entry, saved it and then ... poof! It's gone. Blogger prides itself on automatically saving entries so that if something happens during the writing process, the entry is still saved. So much for that. Anyway, as I always say to someone at work after they delete something that they've been working on for the past hour, it's always easier the second time round.

I am also going to type this in Internet Explorer. I don't like IE very much and try to avoid it. At work I use Firefox, but for some reason I was unable to install it at home, so I tried Opera. This is more like FF than IE, but has its differences. It also caused formatting problems whilst writing the blog (the previous entry shows a few lines extending too far right), and it was these problems which caused me to "save" today's entry, in the hope that saving the entry and starting anew would cause these problems to disappear. Some hope. So anyway, here we go again....

I try to vary the music to which I listen at home, instead of grinding the same few discs into dust. For example, today I was listening to June Tabor's 1996 "Anthology" compilation, which is a low-key but pleasant collection featuring a few gems (such as "Verdi cries" and "The band played waltzing Matilda"). I haven't listened to this disc in years, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Anyway, a few weeks ago in preparation for my trip up north, I loaded into my mobile mp3 player the Albion Band's quintessential 1978 album, "Rise up like the sun". I bought this shortly after its release and considered this to be second only to "Liege and Lief" in the folk-rock pantheon (an opinion which I still hold). The cd release includes four bonus tracks, only one of which - the world premiere of Richard Thompson's "Rainbow over the hill" sung by then-wife Linda - is equal to the original tracks.

At the time, I was aware of some of the metrical sophistication displayed in songs like "Lay me low", which basically is in 3/4 time. Its chorus (three repeats of the line "Lay me low") is, however, in 5/4 time, which is obtained by taking two bars of 3/4 and chopping a beat off the end. It sounds quite natural although slightly odd. It's difficult to imagine unaccompanied singing in 5/4, although Fairport play "Sir William Gower" in this time signature, as does Eliza Carthy with "Adieu, adieu" on her 1998 "Red" album.

This time around, my ear caught some games being played in the opening calling-on song, "Ragged heroes"; specifically, the bar prior to the chorus is often truncated to 2/4, whereas the song itself is in 4/4 time. Anyone looking for a precedent for this can look at John Lennon's "Bungalow Bill" which displays the same trick, although I doubt that this was the inspiration for the Albion Band.

But the real ear-opener is what was the closing track on the vinyl album, the epic "Gresford Disaster". John Tams set the words of the broadside ballad to a hymn tune, and the result, in lugubrious 4/4, is definitely reverent in memory of the 266 men who died. After several verses, a few ringing guitar notes are heard, and the song enters its contentious instrumental section. Taking the prosodic approach, this section represents the miners' families wailing at their loss, although I take a more musical approach. I write "contentious", as many people find this section exceeding long and unlistenable, primarily because of Ric Sanders' cosmic violin noodling (I can take it or leave it). Let me note the excellent drumming by Dave Mattacks, who is instantly recognisable due to his fills. When viewed as a whole, this section displays fine dynamics, starting with virtually nothing and finishing in a fine climax.

What caught my ear especially was the rhythm of this instrumental section. Two bars of 4/4 were easily identifiable, but after that came ... what? At first I was counting it as five beats (which would make each cycle in 13/4), but I wasn't sure of myself. I decided to contact Ric Sanders who is listed as the composer of this part (in one of the few composing credits on the album, an omission I find strange); at the time (about ten days ago), he was touring North America with the three piece acoustic Fairport Convention, and so communication was a bit difficult. Gracious as always, this is what Ric had to write -

I'm writing this in JFK so don't have the recording to hand, and it's a long time ago!! But I can tell you that The Gresford was put together by all of us arranging different bits - especially John Tams, Graeme Taylor, and myself. The middle (blowing) section is in fact a composition that I had written completely separately, called "Singing, Ringing", which just happily fitted. Its rhythmic cycle is 2 bars of 4/4 followed by 1 of 9/8.

Now I know what it's supposed to be, it makes it much easier to count the rhythm. What threw me was that in the 9/8 bar, the beats were played faster - obviously as they are quavers and not crotchets. This section mutates into a 3/4 portion led by Graeme Taylor's guitar, and of course it is easier to move smoothly from 9/8 to 3/4 (they're essentially the same) as opposed from 5/4 to 3/4. This section is terminated by John Tams singing two verses (starting with the one about the Lord Mayor of London collecting money) over that same 3/4 rhythm, before closing down and reverting to the initial 4/4 time.

However one wants to look at this song, it is a rhythmic tour de force.

After having deciphered all that, I thought that I would look again at "Liege and Lief" to see whether it contained any metrical sophistication. The first four songs are all in 4/4, so the first side is extremely conventional. "The deserter" is in 3/4, which brings a pleasant change. The instrumental medley starts in 12/8, moves to 3/4 and then finishes in 4/4, so that is definitely more interesting for drummers. I'm not too sure how to count this, but "Tam Lin" varies between 3/4 and 7/4; this is caused by verses having 4/4 bars inserted in the middle, whereas the instrumental sections are all in 3/4. "Crazy Man Michael" closes things down in 3/4. So yes, "Liege and Lief" is also fairly sophisticated in this respect.

"Now be thankful" is basically in 4/4, although its verse has a few 2/4 bars and the bar leading up to the chorus has been shortened, creating a 3/4 bar. A few songs on "Angel Delight" also contained some odd signatures, and of course Maartin Allcock had some great lopsided instrumentals during his tenure with Fairport - check out "The noise club" on "Red and Gold", which is basically in 5/4 with a middle section in 6/4. On the final verse, it sounds to me as if Maart is continuing to play in 5/4 whilst DM plays in 6/4. Who knew that such polyrhythms lay at the heart of such music.

Latter day Fairport is unfortunately very four square in this respect, which is one subliminal reason why I find their current output uninteresting.

OK - enough for today. Must take the dog for a walk.

Shabbat Shalom.

Weather update

10:45 am. Outside it's over 36 degrees. Inside my head hurts slightly and I'm nauseous. It's a "yucky" migraine this time, not a "painful head" one. I go home to take a pill - I'll decide in another two hours whether to continue working at a reduced pace or go home to sleep.

19:45 update. Well, I took my pill, and by noon, there wasn't much nausea left. On the other hand, the pill had made me so sleepy that I couldn't concentrate on my work. So I went home, took another pill and slept an uneasy sleep for a few hours. Whilst asleep, I had some weird dreams, like deciding to record a version of "The Long Medley" from The Beatles' "Abbey Road"; that's how I know I was sleeping. Sometime after 3pm I awoke, but I was still zombie-like for a few hours.

Now I'm fine, but I wonder whether it's better to take these pills thus killing the migraine but causing side effects, or better not to take them and just suffer the pain. Neither route seems good, but I think that the first wins on points as it's better to be a zombie for a few hours than suffer excrutiating pain for the same length of time.

Incidentally, I think that these pills are OTC (over the counter) - one doesn't need a doctor's prescription for them. It makes one wonder that such pills with their side effects are legal, whereas marijuana is not. And again incidentally, the pills are much cheaper with a prescription; such is also the case with my stomach pills, which are three times more expensive OTC than they are with a prescription. On the other hand, paracetamol is actually cheaper OTC, although the difference is minor.

I wonder how these pills actually work. Most painkillers (to take an extreme example, morphine) work by attaching themselves to receptors on nerve cells and thus reducing the amount of 'network traffic' (to use a computer metaphor), meaning that one doesn't feel any pain. As this is their mode of action, they obviously don't have any effect on what is causing the pain.

These migraine pills also effect nerve cell receptors, but they also seem to reduce the duration of the migraine. Maybe the paracetamol has some effect on dilated blood vessels (which are what causes a certain amount of pain).

OK: enough on health matters. The next post should be about music.

Weather report

No, I don't mean the jazz-rock group from the late 1970s, I mean weather - what goes on outside of the window.

We've been receiving forecasts that today is going to be extremely hot, due to a sharav - a hot wind which apparently contains high numbers of protons sucked in from the solar wind. Days like this are extremely unpleasant and cause many people to suffer from headaches and dehydration.

At 6am, the temperature both outside and inside the house was 23 degrees Celsius. I don't know what the temperature is now (8:30am) as I'm writing this from work, but I do know that my left temple is already starting to throb, and my throat is dry. The scientist in me is interested to know what effect the sharav will have on me, whereas the person inside me would prefer not to suffer.

I do have pills for migraines which work, not too efficiently. They're composed of paracetamol, codeine and ingredient X (whose name I can never remember). Ingredient X is included in order to minimise nausea, which sometimes can be an appreciable factor in the migraine. I'm not sure whether this is a side effect or not, but this ingredient also has the tendency to put me to sleep. The advantage is that I miss most of the pain; the disadvantage is that obviously I can't take these pills and continue to work, so sometimes I have to make a decision what to do. Fortunately for me, migraines rarely start in the morning, so missing work hasn't been much of a problem.

Further updates during the day (depending on my ability to write...).

DCI Banks

Those sitting at the front of the class will remember that I like the police procedural series of books 'starring' DCI Banks, written by Peter Robinson. The other week I ordered two of his earlier books from Amazon; they arrived a few days ago, and today I finished reading them.

'The Hanging Valley' is the fourth book in the series. Whilst this starts promisingly, it soon gets bogged down and doesn't really lead anywhere. Despite including a trip to Toronto in the middle of the book (which is Robinson's adopted town), nothing very much happens, and the ending of the book is a complete anti-climax. I'm not too sure that any crime was really solved, and certainly no perpetrator was brought to justice, or even arrested.

The publishers pull a little trick on the reader; in order to disguise the fact that the story is coming to an end, the book includes a chapter from Robinson's current book at the time of printing (in this case, the excellent 'Strange Affair'). Thus the story ends before one gets to the final page of the book. Probably David Lodge wrote about this somewhere, that the reader knows that the story is coming to an end because of the dwindling number of pages. In this case, and in fact every Robinson book which I've read (except for the omnibus and his latest), there's always an extra chapter.

Anyway, 'The Hanging Valley' was without a doubt the worst Banks novel which I have read. It wasn't as good as even the first, which wasn't particularly good. 'THV' had a mixed plot, no resolution and even included in great detail the constituents of a 'full English breakfast' that someone eats.

On the other hand, 'Wednesday's Child' was very good and kept my interest right to the very end with quite a surprising finish. This book (and the two which followed it) show that Robinson was definitely improving in his craft. These belong to what I could call Robinson's second phase: not the early books which weren't too good, and not the later books which show a quantum leap in quality. It seems that the addition of Annie Cabot to the police regulars ('In a dry season') gave the series a much needed boost, and also allowed Robinson to have two separate plots going in the same book which don't necessarily converge.

'WC' has two separate plots, and Robinson has devoted more 'screen time' to detectives who normally remain in the background; thus there is less Alan Banks, and the book is more about police and detection than it is about Banks. From 'IADS' onwards, the books are much longer, enabling two plots but also plenty of pages about Banks.

Ian Rankin has done something similar in his Rebus series, developing characters who were once peripheral (DS Siobhan Clarke is the prime example), allowing the books to cover more territory and multiple plots. Somehow the myriad strands of a later day Rebus novel all converge, which is not necessarily the case in a Banks novel. Strands rarely converge in real life, and I think that the Banks novels are slightly stronger because of this.

Music notes: 'THV' mentions Nick Drake twice and John Martyn. 'WC' is very light on the popular music front.

Collaboration

A few weeks ago I received an email via the SoundClick site: someone wanted to 'be my friend'. I contacted this person and discovered that she lives in a suburb of Tel Aviv! The whole world uses the internet and I get contacted by someone who lives maybe 30 kilometres from me! Anyway, we started corresponding and one evening I idly suggested that we collaborate on something.

After she told me that she doesn't write, I suggested that I create a music track for her and that she sing it. After a bit more to-ing and fro-ing, we agreed to do a version of 'Halicha LeKesariya' ('Walking To Caesariyya') which is colloquially known as 'Eli, Eli' ('My God'). This song was written by Hanna Senesh, a young immigrant to Palestine (as it was then) who volunteered to parachute into Nazi occupied Europe in 1942 and was never heard from again.

I wasn't too sure how to approach this song, as it's very much a classic Israeli song; due to the sombre meaning which has been attached to it, I felt that a very simple arrangement was in order. My original intention was to have a very dark and engulfing pad against which would be set the crystal vocals of my collaborator. We did indeed make such a version, but I got tired of the sound and decided to remix the music, changing the instruments. I then sent the music file via a file sharing website (essential for collaborations) and was sent a version back complete with vocal.

I didn't like the sound of this version, and a quick look with a wave editor showed that there was a large dynamic range: the vocals were creating very loud peaks and the music was very quiet. After a few more emails back and forth, I requested that I be sent the vocal file so that I could make my own mix. I had to apply very heavy compression to the vocal and some eq, but this enabled me to make the music much louder and better balanced.

Both of these versions can be found at my collaborator's website.

After having spent a few hours on the remix, I decided to take the dog for a walk. On the way, I was listening to some of my instrumental pieces, and I realised that the song would sound better if I ditched the current arrangement and swapped it for one of my patent arpeggio based tracks. So when I came back from the walk, I started yet another arrangement. I kept about 50% of the original and then added two electric pianos playing arpeggios, one on each channel. The second piano is playing the same notes as the first, only delayed by one beat, thus producing an interesting effect. Another couple of hours working on this, getting everything just right, and now a third version of the tune was finished. I think that this one is the best; it's more open and sounds much better.

One part - a high pitched violin or voice, it's difficult to tell - is playing notes which are generally a fourth or a fifth apart. Thus the part starts with an A, jumps up to D, then up a fifth to a higher A and then down to E. I wasn't really thinking about it at the time, but that second A is played over a Bb chord, and thus is a major seventh; it sounds very cool. The chord sequence which I used is one slightly more adventurous than most people might use to accompany the song, and includes a very interesting sequence - F Bb Em A. The transition from Bb to Em is thrilling.

For the time being, I'm putting this third version up on my SoundClick site.

In the mean time, I've been sent another song to arrange. I've listened to this only once, and it was absolutely dreadful, featuring a guitar which sounds totally out of time. It's going to be interested creating a track for this, as first I have to learn the song and that's going to be hard. I'll just try and write down how many bars there are of each chord and start from there.

Metadata and information

I wrote a few days ago about reports which give statistical data. These reports provide metadata: data about data. Such reports tend to be more interesting and higher level than reports about 'ordinary' data, and in fact management should be interested only in such reports, but there is a natural tendency to sink down to the data level and start checking each specific order instead of looking at trends.

I participated in a course about knowledge management once; one of the simplest things to come out of this was the following hierarchical model. At the lowest level, one has data - eg specific orders. Above this level is information - eg what percentage of orders are being delivered on time. The highest level is knowledge - how to create conditions such that all orders are delivered on time. The transition from data to information isn't very difficult, but the transition from information to knowledge is much harder, and that is the reason why companies try to hang on to employees who have knowledge.

The course itself was about the formal storage of knowledge within an organisation: how to know what knowledge people have, how to formalise that knowledge and retain it, and even more important (my project in the course) how to know what knowledge does not reside within the organisation (that's where I first used the theta query). Unfortunately the course fell prey to problems within the college where it was taught, and so it didn't fulfill its initial goals.

Is it surprising that I work in information technology and not data processing?

Today is my best friend's birthday (you know who you are!) and tonight marks the beginning of the Shavu'ot festival.

Train journey

I spent Thursday giving training sessions to users (both new and advanced, although not at the same time) with our ERP program in Haifa. This was cunningly arranged so that I could spend Thursday evening with friends in the north of Israel and then return home the next day without causing any problems at work (our work week is Sunday - Thursday, although I always work a few hours on Friday). As fortune would have it, there is a train station near where I live and one very near where I was giving the training sessions, so it was a no-brainer travelling by train instead of car.

On Friday morning, I was taken to the train station in Nahariya (11 kilometres from the Lebanese border) and boarded a train which was headed for Ben Gurion airport. My intention was to alight at one of the stations in Tel Aviv and then change to a train from Tel Aviv to my station (Bet Shemesh). But once the journey got underway, the conductor said that the train would continue past Ben Gurion airport, stopping at Lod, Kiryat Gat and Be'er Sheva. These names probably won't mean to non-Israelis, but the point is that the train was leaving the most northern station of the rail network and continuing through to the southernmost station - a very long journey (it's like a train I once boarded in Britain which went from Liverpool to Bournemouth).

I was very surprised at this information as I wasn't aware that the network had been extended past Ben Gurion airport. The airport had only been added as a station about a year ago and I had yet to travel there as it was the end of a line. But for the past few years I have been watching in awe as a bridge had been built by the airport, arching over the motorway from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. Step by step this has been a fascinating process to watch. Listening to the conductor's announcement, I realised that the bridge had become operational, and so decided to stay on the train until Lod, where I could switch trains.

The track from Tel Aviv to Ben Gurion is short and mainly underground, arriving at the basement of the airport. This line could be very useful for people flying, although of course it depends on the hours that the train runs. Then we continued out of the airport and over the main road - not as fast as I would have liked, but still impressive. A few minutes later we were in Lod, where I alighted.

I suggested later to my father that he spend a few hours having fun on the railway (he doesn't have much else to do): take a train from Bet Shemesh to Lod, change and wait for a train going to Ben Gurion and points north. Change at Ben Gurion and then come back. It's good for a morning's entertainment and won't cost very much.

I still haven't travelled to Jerusalem by train, something which is more enjoyment than necessity. Apparently the views are astounding (and having walked several times along that region, I can appreciate this), but the journey is slow.

The 'theta' join and SQL arcana

A good day at work yesterday and the day before. I managed to solve a syntax problem preventing the execution of a new report, and in doing so learnt a lesson which I had been taught before and forgot. This gave me renewed confidence regarding the report generator in our new ERP program, and so yesterday I was able to create a few new reports.

These are statistical reports, showing how long the order approval process takes, how we stand regarding supply dates (as opposed to what we promised the customer), how long it takes to repair a chair and how long it takes to complete a service call. The quality management system (which I used to run) has goals for each of these services, and it is important for us to know where we stand in relation to these goals. In case we should surpass them, it's always possible to move the goal posts.

Coming off these reports, I had an 'a-ha' moment when I saw how I could write a report which shows which parts don't have a bill of materials. This can be generalised to "give me a list of something which doesn't have ", for example chairs which no one orders or unordered upholstery colours. I read somewhere once that this is called the 'theta' join: how to find values which are in one table but not another. In 'classical' SQL, this can be written as

select customer.name, customer.ip
from customer left join subscrip
on customer.id = subscrip.customer
where subscrip.ip is null

(this is an example from a program I wrote which manages the billing for internet access on my kibbutz and will find end customers who don't have billing data).

Unfortunately this syntax doesn't work as a 'naked SQL' query in the ERP program, let alone translated into the version needed for the report generator, so I had to shelve the idea originally. Yesterday I remembered seeing a query for a report which someone had written which used a subquery; I realised that I could use this as a replacement mechanism for the theta join. Translating back into SQL, I wrote

select part.partname, part.partdes
from part
where not exists
(select 'x' from part p1, partarc pa
where p1.part = pa.son
and pa.part = part.part)

What is this saying? If the subquery returns a value (that's the select 'x' part), then the where clause will be false and so there will be no value for the query. But if the subquery fails, then the where clause succeeds and so there will be values for part.partname and part.partdes.

A large step for (New) man, a small step for mankind. Or maybe it's the other way round: an hour's work from me and we can now produce data which other companies can only dream of.

C. Arthur Milton

I learnt today in a roundabout way of the death of C. Arthur Milton:

"In his time, the footballer and cricketer Arthur Milton was as big a name as Alan Ball, the World Cup hero whose death preceded his by a few hours. Milton played on the wing for Arsenal and England and opened the innings for Gloucestershire and England. As such he was the last of the double internationals." - taken from his online obituary.

Normally, the death of such a has-been sporting star wouldn't mean much to me, but Mr Milton was special to me, as he was the father of Robert, my best friend in junior and secondary school. I wrote a little about this here.

I didn't exactly "finish" secondary school, I sort of "evaporated". In those days, there weren't any lessons in the summer term for the upper sixth form; pupils stayed at home and revised for their A-levels, coming into school only to sit the exams (or play cricket). My parents moved from Bristol to Cardiff before my exams had finished, and so I was a very rare sight around the halls in the summer of 73. As a result of our move and my spending the 1973/4 academic year in Israel, I lost touch quickly with almost all the people with whom I went to school.

A few days after coming home in July 1974, I took a train to Bristol and met up with Robert again. We spent a pleasant day talking and making music, and then went on our separate ways again. We next met up about a year later when Robert came to see me in London; he came loaded with a guitar and an amplifier which I had to shlap from West Hampstead tube station to my London residence. Again, we spent a weekend making music together and then went on our ways.

I suspect that I wasn't too hospitable towards him (a charge which had been levelled against me by someone else at around the same time regarding another event) or maybe we had just grown too far apart (I was quite different from my old schoolfriends by virtue of having spent that year in Israel, being dedicated to emigrating and being gung ho about my youth movement), but for whatever reason, we never got in contact again.

I have tried over the past few years looking for Robert over the Internet but have not been successful. Even today I tried and failed again, although I did find the address of the Milton family home in Bristol. I didn't remember the name of the street, although when I looked at the address on a map, the old neighbourhood came into focus, with my old house at the top of the map, our primary school in the middle and Robert's house at the bottom.

I'll send a condolence card tomorrow along with my email address and we'll see if anything transpires.

Killarney Boys Of Pleasure

I uploaded a few new instrumentals to my SoundClick page, including a traditional Irish tune bearing the very politically incorrect name of 'Killarney Boys Of Pleasure'. I was in Killarney once but I didn't meet any boys of pleasure (and probably would have run a mile had I done so). I imagine that the meaning of "boys of pleasure" has changed somewhat over the years....

Anyway, this is normally a fast paced violin tune, but the version which I know by Lunasa slowed it down "to make it sound groovy", to quote the sleeve notes to their "Merry Sisters Of Fate" disc. Their version informed and inspired my version, and to give credit where credit is due, I think that their version is better.

I saw Lunasa when that disc came out, and reviewed both their concert and the disc for the GreenMan review online magazine. I couldn't find those reviews now after a quick search on GMR's website, but my review of then Lunasa guitarist Donogh Hennessey's music book is still there. I thought that I was doing the band a favour by giving this book a positive review (and I bought it with my own money), but Donogh sent a vicious and personally insulting reply in return which totally turned me off reviewing.

When in Ireland in 2002, I bought their followup disc, "Redwood", but didn't like it. I still don't like it, not for personal reasons, but for professional ones: the dynamics which made MSOF so good are totally lacking in "Redwood" and turns Lunasa into "just another Irish band".

Anyway, I digress (and what's the point of blogs if one can't digress every now and then?). My version of 'Killarney Boys Of Pleasure' is up at SoundClick, I hope that you'll listen and give it a 'hot' vote.

(Welcome to the) Hotel California

I've been reading "Hotel California" by Barney Hoskyns over the past few weeks. I purchased the book because I had been led to believe that it contained a fair amount of information about Randy Newman (and because British Amazon had it on sale for a ridiculously low price) and some about Jackson Browne. It turned out that there was plenty of information about Jackson Browne but little about Randy Newman, who didn't really belong to the Los Angeles singer-songwriter circle of the late 60s/early 70s.

This book talks about a period of music which isn't well represented in my collection. Apart from the Newman albums, I have all the early Jackson Browne albums along with "Crosby, Stills and Nash", but my Joni collection starts with "Blue" and concentrates on the following years. Once I bought a 'greatest hits' collection by The Byrds, which I listened to on Saturday. Almost every track sounds the same and almost none of it sounds interesting.

This is a concise description which I could apply to most of the music described in Hoskyns' book: most of the faux cowboy material fell on deaf ears and I never could stand The Eagles. As someone rightly pointed out, almost all of the musicians which one considers to be part of this scene are not Californians (the exceptions are Newman, Browne and Crosby).

The book is a bit muddled, unsure of whether to tell a strictly chronological tale or whether to concentrate on people and/or groups. As a result, there's a bit of both which makes for haphazard, if informative, reading.

I knew nothing about the early life of David Crosby (all I did know was his sailing, his drug problems, his liver transplant and his jail sentences), so this book clued me in. To me, the standout track of "Crosby, Stills and Nash" is C's "Guinevere" and I have always wondered why there were no other tracks of a similar standard created by him. Now I know.

I have the "remixed from the original master tapes" cd version of CS&N which I bought about ten years ago. The production on this is strange to my way of thinking: whilst the guitars (especially in "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes") have careful spacial placing, the vocals (with one notable exception) are mixed together, dead in the middle, thus making it difficult to separate each singer's contribution. Strange for a harmony group - unless they wanted to provide a blend of three voices as one. The notable exception is "Helplessly hoping", which has clean separation on the vocals (and showing again that Crosby has a lovely voice); this track only has a single acoustic guitar, which may have something to do with the vocal separation.

I've never been one who looks for the perfect vocal (I have been given to understand from other sources that both CS&N and The Eagles would record multiple vocal tracks and then edit on a word by word basis!), as one can imagine from listening to years of Randy Newman, so most Californian perfect vocal songs leave me cold. Where is all the expression and emotion? Rank The Eagles against Van der Graaf Generator, and whilst it's easy to understand why one act has sold millions of records whereas the other has not, it's also clear on which side the true emotion and passion lies. And the musical ability.

Speying the dog

For some unknown reason, I haven't felt like updating this blog in the past few weeks. Too many days off work (for holidays) cause the mind to go mush-like, and blogs don't get written in this time.

A few weeks ago I took our young dog (Mocha) to be speyed. I should really call her a puppy as she's only six months old, but to me a puppy is a small dog, and this one is anything but small!

This picture was taken about two months ago and doesn't really give a good idea of her size, although some people who have seen it say that they can judge by the size of her feet. Anyway, this is a big dog who hasn't finished growing yet.

I stayed to watch the operation as I thought it would be interesting (I also didn't have anything else to do at the time). Anaesthetising the dog was amazing: after the vet managed to insert a cannula into Mocha's leg, she injected some liquid and in literally two seconds Mocha relaxed from heavy breathing into heavy sleep. The cut in the abdomen produced disappointingly little blood and in fact, no real bleeding could be observed at any time during the operation, although of course subcutaneous blood vessels were leaking all the time.

Again, to my disappointment, the vet didn't lay Mocha's abdomen open for me to see inside; instead, she reached inside the cut, felt around a bit and then brought out some filmy tissue which she said was the ovaries, Fallopian tubes and uterus. She carefully cut and stitched, and within about 40 minutes the entire operation was over: careful and slow.

The vet says that current thinking says that it is best to spey dogs prior to their coming on heat for the first time; this improves their hormonal balance (or prevents hormonal imbalance) and will lengthen their lifespan. I'm used to thinking about gynaecological details of women, and of course bitches are somewhat different!

It took Mocha a few days to recover her normally undending enthusiasm for life, a period longer than the vet had said, so much so that I was tempted to take Mocha back for a checkup. But soon her lethargy departed and she was back to her old tricks (chewing shoes, scratching the carpet and generally running around). I'm not too sure which behaviour I prefer; we are waiting for her to grow out of this phase.

Next time: thoughts about two new books.

An end to headaches?

I would like to claim that I've had difficulty logging into the blog (true) as a reason for not posting recently but that wouldn't be fair. As Robert Heinlein wrote, the best way to lie is to tell the truth ... just not all of it. So yes, I've been having difficulty logging into the blog.

I had my BCC removed surgically two weeks ago and a long row of stitches inserted, which were removed two days ago. Apparently the scar is 6mm in length, which is comparatively long for this sort of thing. Fortunately, it's on my back, so I don't have to look at it (neither does anyone else) and it also made the surgery easier. I have a checkup with my skin doctor in another few weeks and I am hoping that she won't find anything else to have extracted.

Whilst having the surgery, another piece of the headache issue fell into place. My blood pressure was measured before and after; before it was something like 145/90, whereas after it was 135/90. I had a slight headache at the time which intensified as the day went on, which leads me to the tentative conclusion that elevated blood pressure will give me a headache. I looked a little at the online literature, and whilst this observation has been made, it is generally accepted to be false. But the elevated bp can be a sign of something else which is causing the headaches.

Fortunately I've been headache free for almost the past month (except for the surgery day) which has been a blessing, so I haven't really had a chance to test this theory. Theoretically, I should be walking around with a mobile sphygmomanometer (don't you just love that word; I pasted it in directly from the Wikipedia) so that I can have advance warning of a headache but I can't really see that happening.

Something has happened to my sound card which is making recording vocals very difficult. I replaced the microphone with another which had been very 'live' in the past, but this too was hardly producing any output. After increasing volume levels by 25 and judicious silencing, I obtained a reasonable - if bassy - vocal for a song which I am currently recording. This silencing has happened before - last Summer, if I remember correctly - and mysteriously went away after a few days. Maybe the soundcard also suffers from high blood pressure or the equivalent.

Weekend migraines (part 2)

As my late mother used to ask, do you know the story of the three wells? No, I would answer. "Well, well, well".

No pain on Friday. Almost no pain on Saturday (I woke up with a slight headache which might have been caused by mild dehydration - my wife left the electric blanket on all night). No pain so far today.

Can it really be that going to bed frustrated and not sleeping well can cause migraines? There are people who would say definitely so, those who believe in a holistic approach.

I come from a scientific background, which means that the experiment has to be repeated several times in order to reach a conclusion. So: no basketball this Thursday night. Maybe I'll tape the game and watch it on Friday afternoon, depending on the result.

My clinical psychologist friend laid out some new exams which she wants me to computerise. Being in stout mind over the weekend, I completed one from scratch and I'll show her the results in the next few days. There's another exam which looks fairly easy to implement; the only decision which I have to make at the moment is whether the interface should be only keyboard or only mouse (I suppose I could do both). Sometimes the people being tested are not too familiar with a computer, although I imagine that this kind of person is disappearing, especially considering the nature of the exam. So it looks like I'll go with the mouse interface.

Weekend migraines

As I wrote previously, I went to see my doctor about migraines. First of all, he checked my symptoms to see that they are indeed included in the list which indicates migraine - not everybody has the same symptoms and even not every migraine which I suffer has the same symptoms. Then he gave me a neurological examination - checking reflexes, getting me to touch my nose with my arms outstretched and my eyes closed. After I passed this test, we talked a bit about causes.

Almost all of my migraines start on a Saturday morning, so the natural question is what is different about Friday night. Well, it's the only time of the week that I eat meat - roast chicken, in fact. Now, there are certain foods which are known to trigger migraines such as chocolate (which I rarely eat), but no one has yet indicated roast chicken! The doctor expressed surprise, and joked that if this is really the cause, then he can write an article about it and become famous. He advised me not to eat chicken that evening (the consultation was on Friday morning) to see whether that would have any effect. He considered prescribing me beta-blockers, specifically propranolol, but first wanted to see what my blood pressure was and whether there is any identifiable trigger.

My BP was measured three times, with an average value of 140/80, which is very high for me and hopefully unusual. I left the clinic at about 11:30am, and by about 3pm I already had a developing headache, obviously not due to the roast chicken which I was just about to start preparing. Then followed two and a half days of intermittent pain and nausea, a classic migraine for me.

Several people have mentioned to me that many people suffer from 'weekend migraines', which arise from a change in lifestyle. I was told about one person who normally drinks several cups of coffee a day but not at weekends and so suffers migraines as a result (caffeine withdrawal); as I drink herbal tea, this isn't a problem for me, but I understand the basic idea. Another person pointed out that we normally get up later at the weekend, which can upset the body rhythm.

So I started thinking: if I already had the headache by Friday afternoon, what is different about Thursday evening/Friday morning to the rest of the week? Well, for a start, I only work a few hours on Friday morning (my company officially works Sunday to Thursday, but I do a few extra hours on Friday when it's quiet and no one bothers me) and don't drink very much. I also watch frustrating basketball games on Thursday evening, don't shower and go to bed late, so I am often more tired on a Friday.

As it happens, Maccabi Tel Aviv played basketball on a Wednesday this week, the first time in several years, and as they were totally dominated by Tau Vittoria, I didn't bother watching the entire game. Instead I elected to shower and go to bed at a reasonable hour, unaffected emotionally by the game. Yesterday I had my blood pressure measured at a much more reasonable 119/75, today I've been drinking, and it will be interesting to see what happens this weekend.

I keep my fingers crossed.

Donating blood

Yesterday, the 'bloodmobile' made its semi-annual journey to the kibbutz so that people could donate blood. There's always a shortage of blood available for infusions, so Magen David Adom (the equivalent to Red Cross) are always trying to get people to donate. On the other hand, in the past few years, they have also tried to make things as hard as possible for people to donate, in order to ensure that they blood that they do get is of the highest quality. There is a questionnaire which one has to complete which asks all kinds of questions: does the donor suffer from epileptic fits? Is the donor an intravenous drug user? Has the donor undergone dental treatment in the past seven days? Has the donor lived abroad for a period of six months during the years ....? What medication has the donor taken in the past two weeks? Has the donor been feeling well in the past few days?

One gets the picture. Had the bloodmobile come a few days ago, there is no way that I would have gone as I had been feeling very unwell (probably migraines, although I'm going to the doctor tomorrow and may get a new diagnosis), and donating blood was completely out of the question. But I've been feeling much better and thought that there would be no problem this time.

After completing the questionnaire, one goes to a paramedic who checks the questionnaire, asks some more questions (some of which are covered in the questionnaire), checks pulse and blood pressure, and in the case of women and vegetarians, haemoglobin levels. During this chat, I mentioned that I had had an appointment with a skin doctor a few days ago for the removal of a small growth, but that nothing had happened as the growth was too big to be removed, considering the poor sterility conditions of her office (as the growth is on my back, I can't see it very well, but it's maybe two centimetres in diameter). I thought that I would be ok to donate as I hadn't had it removed, but it turns out the opposite. Once the paramedic heard this, he phoned a doctor in Jerusalem who asked me what the growth was. When I told her that it was BCC (basal cell carcinoma), she immediately said that I could not donate, but that I will be able to after it has been removed.

So: another visit of the bloodmobile goes by without me donating. Everyone thanked me for at least wanting to donate (most people don't even want to), but I was left with an obscure feeling of having been rejected