Monthly Archives: August 2012

Aug 9 2012

So we can land a one tonne truck on Mars, but we can’t cure the common cold?

Cheltenham ... Dr. Edward Jenner.

Cheltenham … Dr. Edward Jenner. (Photo credit: BazzaDaRambler)

For the last 48 hours, I have suffered with man flu. This vile condition strikes lightning fast and is scientifically proven* to be a million times more debilitating to men than to members of the fairer sex. This probably goes some way to explaining the lack of understanding or sympathy that poor men undergo when knocked flat by those nasty little flu bugs.

In 1896, a British doctor, Dr Edward Jenners first discovered vaccination in its modern form and proved to the scientific community that it worked. Since then, mankind has developed and widely immunised against diphtheria, smallpox, tuberculosis and tetanus. Many of these diseases have all but completely been wiped out which has contributed to a dramatic rise in the life expectancy of both men and women.

So if we can do it for all these horrible diseases, why can’t we do it for the common cold? The disease is reckoned to cost some $40Bn a year in the USA alone which you would have thought should be sufficient incentive. Although a large industry has built up in cold remedies with a bewildering array of lotions and potions available with comforting names like “max strength”.

If you search the BritishPathe.com news site for “common cold” you will see that the British have done their bit over the years for research into a cure. Set up in the aftermath of WWII in old Salisbury hospital, the Common Cold Research Unit spent  over 40 years infecting 30 people a fortnight with the common cold for research purposes. Although what they ended up with other than 10s of thousands of miserable people is unclear.

So let me do my bit for the scientific community. Observation over the last 48 hours suggests to me that tea is very effective at combating the symptoms but not for long. Beans on toast seems to be the most soothing foodstuff. Sleep is very good – whilst you are asleep, you don’t have to put up with the sore throat, the aches and pains and the staccato sneezing. Cats most definitely don’t help and neither do phone calls trying to persuade you to claim back PPI from the banks.

I have a flu jab every year. Despite the assurances of the surgery that the vaccine is not “live” and I should suffer no ill effects, I usually feel rubbish for a couple of days after the injection. I wouldn’t mind if that small bit of suffering was all the man flu I was going to get, but to add insult to injury, here I am suffering again.

Maybe the Mars Rover will find a cure.

* I was lying about the scientifically proven bit.

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Aug 6 2012

We have an uninvited guest

Two mice; the mouse on the left has more fat s...

Two mice; the mouse on the left has more fat stores than the mouse on the right. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“What’s that noise?” I said to my wife one evening whilst we were watching TV.

“What noise?” she replied disinterested.

“There – can’t you hear it? A kind of scratching sound.”

Together we crept around to the kitchen to see if we could find the source of the noise. Anyone would think we were trying to catch a burglar in the act.

Eventually, we traced the noise to the medicine drawer. We exchanged “get ready” looks as I carefully grasped the handle of the drawer. I yanked the drawer open and scanned the interior.

I could see nothing but medicines, but judging by my wife’s scream and the way she was clutching my arm in a vice-like grip, she had obviously seen something. I slammed the drawer shut as fast as I’d opened it.

“What did you see?”

“A mouse!” she screamed.

I carefully eased the drawer back open to check the scene of the crime. I watched warily, for truth be told, I am only slightly less squeamish about rodents than my wife. The mouse had gone, probably scared off by the slam of the drawer, so we could sift through the contents. The mouse had eaten its way through an entire pack of paracetamol.

Confident that no mouse could eat that much paracetamol and survive, we thought that was that. However, our mouse is made of sterner stuff.

You would think that having a cat in the house would be sufficient deterrent against our rodent friend but unfortunately, mouse hunting is definitely not part of her job description. Lazing around on furniture – yes, miaowing a lot – definitely, making a nuisance of herself – indeed but absolutely nothing about rodents.

It was a while later when I went to feed said cat when reaching inside the cupboard containing her food, instead of coming across a box full of cat biscuits, I found a box with a big hole chewed in the side lying on top of a pile of cat biscuits.

The mouse had returned.

This time we were ready. Having invested in some mouse traps, we should now have the upper hand. Traps duly placed, it can only be a matter of time before our furry friend is an ex furry friend. Unfortunately though, not only can our mouse eat a whole ton of paracetamol and survive, he also has the survival skills of an SAS soldier and can spot a trap a mile away.

The hunt for this mouse is in danger of taking on Captain Ahab proportions.

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Aug 4 2012

Are all gold medals equal?

English: Finland top-beachvolleyball player Ri...

English: Finland top-beachvolleyball player Riikka Lehtonen (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you’d asked me how I felt about the Olympics a few days before the opening ceremony to London 2012, I probably would have shrugged my shoulders. To be honest I was a bit nonplussed with the whole event. After the triumphant opening ceremony, my interest started to grow.

Now after a whole week of competition, I am caught up in Olympic fever. I’ve been checking websites and watching coverage with the best of them. I regret not applying for tickets now. Some of the events leave me awestruck.

When I see the athletes leaping and pirouetting through the air in graceful somersaults one after another, it makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. When I see a gymnast swinging at fantastic speed from bar to bar in the asymmetric bars, I watch transfixed. Somehow what they do seems so completely impossible that you expect them to fall at any moment.

When the guys on the rings hold themselves in the crucifix position before forcing themselves upwards slowly and gracefully, I find it hard to contemplate the strength and control that is required for such a manoeuvre. It’s not just the gymnastics. The synchronised diving takes my breath away. How can they perform such complicated dives and remain almost entirely in synch is beyond me. Lots and lots of practise I guess.

The endurance events like triathlon and marathon are also impressive but, because of their slower pace, they impress in a different way. The versatility required in the decathlon demands respect, and the swimming disciplines are exciting to watch. I’m a sucker for anything that floats, so I love the sailing, canoeing and rowing events.

When it comes to the beach volleyball, I can’t take it seriously. We already have proper volleyball, played on a court like we used to at school. Why do we need to have the game you play on the beach when you’re on holiday? I think it’s a sport which struggles to even take itself seriously. Maybe it’s the bikinis. Maybe it’s the bum-slapping after every point. Maybe it’s the Benny Hill music that plays in between games that sets it apart from all the other fine and noble sports that are part of the games.

Beach volleyball is entertaining to watch and I have no doubt that there is a lot of skill involved, and they need physical fitness, but does that put the sport at the same level as the others which seem so much more demanding? When I watch beach volleyball, I can’t quite shake the feeling that it’s a “sport” in which anyone could become proficient given the practise. When I look at the other events, they simply don’t seem that accessible.

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Aug 1 2012

Being terrified for fun – I don’t get it

An example of a roller coaster, one of the sta...

An example of a roller coaster, one of the staples of modern amusement parks (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There is one branch of technology that baffles me. In amusement parks across the world, ever more advanced machinery is being rolled out together with complex, computerised control systems. This machinery is designed with the express purpose of terrifying the users. People flock to these meccas of terror in their thousands to experience the flood of endorphins that accompany being scared out of their collective wits.

The amusement park industry is worth about $25Bn a year, so there is a big incentive to develop new rides to gain market share. Because the rides are so complex, they cost a fortune to develop. Universal Studios‘ Jurassic Park ride is reputed to have cost twice as much to develop as the movie it’s named after. It took 6 years to design and build, cost $100m and it remains the most expensive ride ever developed.

These machines are truly colossal feats of engineering. The tallest are over 125m tall. The longest is nearly 2.5km long and speeds approaching 100mph are not unusual. The idea behind amusement parks is not new. There is an amusement park in Klampenborg in Denmark that has been around for over 400 years.

I once found myself walking through the Pleasure Beach amusement park in Blackpool. I was with some companions and we were chatting away. We must have been lost in whatever the topic of conversation was, because somehow, we ended up at the top of a set of stairs about to board “The Big One“. As roller coasters go, the Big One is fairly tame by world standards. It stands a mere 65m tall and runs for just under 1.7km.

I’d never been on a roller coaster before, so I thought what the hell. I’ll give it a go. We sat in the seats and pulled the safety bar down. A countdown began and then we began our slow ascent up to the apex of the roller coaster. The ascent took an awfully long time and staring out the side, I noticed with some alarm how high up we were and how little steel seemed to be holding us there.

English: Part of the Big Dipper with Infusion ...

English: Part of the Big Dipper with Infusion behind it and the Pepsi Max Big One dwarfing both of them in the background (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Slowly, we crawled to the point of no return. When we reached the peak, we almost seemed to hover, staring down into what seemed like an abyss in front of us. Suddenly, we plunged. The acceleration was terrifying, but worse was yet to come. When we hit the bottom, the full force of gravity reminded us who was boss and my head was flung forward, alarmingly close to the safety bar.

About halfway round the ride, there was a technical failure of some sort which meant we came to an abrupt halt. We hung at a terrifying angle, staring at the ground some distance below us. Eventually, the ride was restarted, but we had lost nearly all our forward momentum and the centrifugal force necessary to keep us in our seats just wasn’t there. I was convinced I was going to fall out.

Eventually we made it to the finish and I couldn’t wait to get out. My companion, however, had other ideas and he was sat in my way. He told me to relax and that we would get another go because of the glitch. As if on cue, a voice came over the microphone “Sorry about that folks – would you like another go?”. Somehow my feeble cry of “No!” was drowned out by all the other yeses and we had to do the whole thing again.

I have never been so terrified. I literally had to prise my fingers off the safety bar and I had jelly legs for about an hour afterwards. Never again!

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