BOF Anti-social Networking Group


Are you sick of being sociable?

Are you continually coerced to communicate?

Are you tired of Twittering and fed up with friend requests?

Be a BOF (Boring Old Fart) and celebrate your BOFness!

You don’t have to be old to be a BOF, anyone can be a BOF; I might be middle aged now, but I’ve been a BOF since I was an infant and I doubt there’s ever been a more boring teenager.

So, let’s distance ourselves from other people, stop answering the telephone or the knock at the door, let’s be unsociable and let’s ignore requests to Tweet, be friends or join groups.

You’ll be happy you did, probably, well, you’ll be a BOF anyway.



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Buses; location and locution

I’ve always used public transport to travel into Nottingham to work, because it’s convenient and good value for money and far more relaxing than driving on busy roads and trying to find somewhere to park in the city centre.

Also, I’m intrigued by the habits of people on the bus.

Although in this instance I’m limiting myself to location and locution; mobile phones, littering, vandalism and ingestion/vomiting can wait for another occasion to arrive. Or perhaps three occasions to turn up at the same time.

Location

Regular travellers tend to sit in the same seat or area, particularly on the first part of the route, before the bus gets too busy. Passengers boarding further down the route have less chance of a regular ‘preferred’ seat, so they tend to be less specific about actual seats, but do appear to have a preferred zone of the bus to aim for.

By the time the bus nears the city centre, passengers either take whatever is available or just stand, so regular seat domination is largely confined to people from the outer suburbs.

There is also a regular pattern to the way people spread themselves about the bus as it starts to pick up more passengers along the route; firstly by occupying alternating window seats, then as those seats fill up, people alternate aisle seats, ideally with no one sitting directly in front or behind, or they survey the lower deck and decide there might be more chance of getting a seat to themselves on the upper deck, even if it means negotiating the stairs.

At least when you travel upstairs these days you are no longer in jeopardy of watering eyes, ashtray scented clothing or departing with antique kipper effect lungs.

Locution

My principal nosiness, I mean interest, in the observation of people on public transport is in the greeting or parting comments they make to the driver.

There aren’t so many actual greetings, the occasional “Hello” or “Morning”, even the rare “Areet mi duck”, with a high proportion of people not even bothering to acknowledge the person behind the wheel. However, on alighting there is far more variety.

“Thanks” and “thank you” are obviously the most common parting comments and again a majority of people say nothing and exit quickly without making eye contact. But there are quite a few “Cheers!”, “See you later” and “Thanks mate”; these largely said by younger men.

Now “See you later” and “Thanks mate” seem reasonable exclamations to me, but why would you say “Cheers!” which is a toast for drinking situations? When did it become a colloquialism for “thanks”? If this is a developing trend I’m waiting with some anticipation for alighting passengers to call to the driver “To your health!”, “Chin Chin!” or “Bottoms up!”

I’ve not travelled on a late night bus for a while; I wonder what remarks passengers regale the driver with when they’ve actually been drinking? Probably shouldn’t ask.

The occasional “Thank you driver!” now seems to be dying out, as it’s mainly expressed by older men in cloth caps or women with perms and head scarves.

I’ve recently noticed “Nice one!” or “Nice one mate!” being flung in the direction of the driver, so far this is also only being expressed by young men. Are they just making a general remark or is it a comment on something specific? Perhaps the fine cut of the driver’s uniform, the remarkable cleanliness of the bus or the exquisite view from the top deck?

Once in a blue moon there are exiting (as opposed to exciting) passengers that take the parting remarks to a whole new level. I’ve a fairly regular observation of one person who exits the bus fairly slowly, waving and keeping eye contact with the driver, while uttering a relentless stream of comments alone the lines of “Bye, have a good one, bye, see you, be good, bye, can’t get any worse, bye, don’t work too hard, bye, see you later!”

My usual bus route drops me off literally right outside the office and my own remarks are almost entirely limited to “Morning” and “Thanks”, although if it’s particularly wet or cold, I do occasionally, with a pathetic attempt at humour, ask the driver if they can get any closer to the door.

Loathed Language List

Wicked widespread words which wound wisdom.

Except that doesn’t really make sense. So, a short list of loathed words, well, words I don’t like anyway:

Whilst
Whilst, to me, sounds pompous and outdated. I think it’s perfectly well replaced by while and should have gone the way of thee and thou when they were supplanted by you.

Mucus, phlegm and diarrhoea
Dislike of the word mucus has to be because of its association with illness and infection. Mucus is a naturally clear and runny substance, with lubricative and protective functions, but it gets its repugnant yellow/green condition from nasal and sinus mucus with bacterial or viral infection.

I also don’t like phlegm, but that’s because I can’t spell it without looking it up; the same goes for diarrhoea. Actually, to be fair to phlegm, if you strip away its meaning, the word itself is quite soft, gentle and almost cuddly.

Stakeholder
Stakeholder is slightly annoying because it has two opposing meanings, but it mainly makes me wince because of its overuse in national and local government announcements; we all seem to be stakeholders now.

I only want to be a stakeholder in a restaurant in the company of a medium rare fillet (I know, but I did say that I can’t spell).

Actually, there are a whole raft of redundant words and phrases used to pepper ill considered Council documents that also make me grimace. Thank goodness for the Plain English Campaign.

Perfectomondo
It’s just bloody annoying.

Chintz
I don’t really like the sound of the word, it’s too sharp and it conjures up a feeling of tasteless, ostentatious and old fashioned design.

Beatnik and gonk
Oh the 1960s (more or less, give or take a few years). There’s nothing wrong with beatniks as a group/breed/species, but the word just feels like a phony and fabricated media stereotype. And as for gonk, well, doesn’t it just sum up some of the vile tat produced and sold in that decade?

Fuddle
Aarghh! No. This is just too cringy. The word itself is too ‘nice’, it’s finicky, fastidious and fussy, before you even get into its meaning. Then it triggers flashbacks of squirmingly embarrassing office parties and colleague send-offs where people stand around in awkward groups, holding plastic cups of warm fizzy wine, not talking and wishing fervently that they were anywhere else. I don’t even want to think about it anymore.

Talking about stakeholder and redundant words and phrases has reminded me of a list I once found of meaningless words to insert into documents. I was going to include it here, but I think I’ve already gone on for too long. I’ll add it later, along the lines of; Meaningful nonsense, or how to enhance the impact of official correspondence.


Lastly:

My wife dislikes okey-dokey.

My sister cringes at the words crotch and gusset.

My daughter detests cordial, elderflower, thorough and frozen. I’m starting to think she’s just a bit strange though.




Word finding difficulties

I regularly find it difficult to retrieve words to express thoughts and have always had problems remembering names and numbers.

It’s only in recent years that I’ve started to think about word finding difficulties and consider how it’s affected me. Thinking about it has made me realise that in some ways it’s had a fairly significant effect on some aspects of my life.

Moy's Garage (1954)
Moy's Garage (1954)

As a young child I was fairly slow learning to talk and I couldn’t pronounce some sounds very well, for example the letter ‘r’.  As a toddler I couldn’t say my name ‘Roy’. I pronounced it ‘Moy’; my father made a toy garage for me and put ‘MOYS GARAGE’ on the sign over the entrance.

Although I drew a lot, I was sluggish in learning to read; at around age eight I still didn’t read very well and was given some Janet and John books by the school to practice at home with.

I didn’t learn the times tables properly. At school I learnt the 2, 5 and 10 times tables and a bit later the 12 (because of pounds, shillings and pence) and I could sometimes work some of the others out by adding up as I went along.

I don’t like writing, my handwriting is hard to read and I’ve always found it tricky to remember what to capitalise and punctuate. For some years in my 20s I wrote everything out in CAPS, even my name; my bank eventually refused to accept my signature until I stopped using capital letters.

Dodgy spelling (1958)

My spelling has always been weak; I have to think very carefully all the time I’m writing by hand and there are many words that I still can’t spell, because I can’t think of a straightforward way of remembering how many letters there should be, or which order the letters go in. For example: across/accross, dificulty/difficulty, writing/writting, letter/leter, neighbour/nieghbor, metre/meter, confussed/confused, always/allways, recal/recall, scisors/scissors and in writing I tend to mix up short words such as ‘to’, ‘of’ and ‘or’.  I sometimes miss letters, especially vowels, out of words.  It’s only in my 50s that I’ve found a way of remembering which way round the ‘i’ and ‘e’ go in ‘their’.  Until my 40s I had problems remembering the difference between ‘their’ and ‘there’ and at school for example I was made to write out a hundred times the difference between ‘they’ and ‘thay’.

I have trouble in remembering times and dates; since my early teens I’ve always carried a diary and lists of things to remember, do or buy. Having my first PDA in 2002 was a huge improvement; everything is in one place and reminder alarms can be set for events of all kinds, brilliant!

I use a computer whenever I can, always with auto spelling and auto correction, which has been a huge boost to the speed and accuracy of my writing. As I type these notes the software is correcting the spelling as I go and changing the letter order of words like ‘and’ and ‘the’ when I transpose the letters.  Before computers I had to write copious notes with multiple corrections and a lot of Tippex and then use scissors and sellotape to put the sentences in the right order, then write the whole thing out again neatly enough for someone else to read.  This applied to essays and letters, and to writing greetings cards and postcards, where I still usually write out a few lines, correct them and then try to write neatly on the card.

I sometimes pause or struggle when trying to recall words or names, and often replace a word with something similar, to try and get my thought across, when I can’t use the word I’m having difficulty remembering.

I find it easier to comprehend what someone is saying if I can see them and I sometimes have difficulty taking phone messages or understanding what someone is explaining during the call.  I have to ask for spellings quite often over the phone and I can’t often remember the letters until it’s written out in full, so I have to ask the person to repeat the spelling until I have it all down on paper.

I only remember one or two oral instructions at most; so I usually have to make notes. I also find it hard to remember more than one or two food or drink orders, when I’m in a pub or restaurant, without writing them out.

The only car registration I can remember
The only car registration I can remember

I have problems remembering names and especially numbers.  I don’t remember my car registration number or any previous ones, apart from an old black Morris 8, series E that my father sold about 1963 which was DBC 357; I’ve no idea why I remember that.

I can’t remember any mobile phone numbers, including my own. The only numbers I can usually remember are my home phone and my main bank account, which has been the same for over thirty years.  I find it hard to remember door codes and usually remember in what order to press the buttons rather than the numbers.

There are lots of technological aids; I don’t often remember web addresses for example, so I use ‘delicious’ to store all of my favourite bookmarks in one place, then they are always available anywhere online.

Sometimes I can’t recall people’s names even if I’ve known them for decades; I know exactly who they are, why and where I know them from and everything about them, but I can’t recall their name.  The same regularly applies to celebrities on TV and people in the news.  Yet sometimes I can remember an actor’s real name but not their stage or character’s name.

I confuse the names of people with similar sounds; I think Alice but say Janis, or Yvette instead of Colette.

I have a huge number of the universal ‘tip of the tongue’ experiences, where I know something, especially a word or name, but can’t immediately recall it. I can quite often think of the first letter of the missing word and think of words related to it, but not bring up the actual word.

Occasionally I say a word that isn’t the one I intended to use (this needs elaboration, but I’m out of words for now).

I can’t read (or write) and listen to someone speak at the same time and if two people talk to me simultaneously my attention skips from one to the other and I fail to understand what either of them has said. However, that may be because I’m male and useless at multi-tasking!

I find it very hard to learn or remember stories, poems or song lyrics and I don’t remember many song or group names or tell jokes, but I do produce spoonerisms (occasionally inadvertently) and many puns in striving to recall the meaning or word that I want to use.

I’m very uncomfortable talking in a small group of people and can’t address a large group at all; I become speechless and silent and can neither think of anything to say nor remember what I meant to say. Very embarrassing.

My hearing has deteriorated slightly in recent years, particularly in my left ear, which had to be operated on in 2004 to stop the impairment getting worse, but it’s left me with poor hearing and occasional tinnitus in my left ear.

The hearing problem has made some of these word finding issues worse. I try to avoid talking to people where there is a lot of background noise, such as in pubs, social occasions and on buses, because I find it very hard to understand what is being said.  Separating speech sounds from background noise, such as a television, can be quite hard.

I’ve not had any sort of assessment, except when, as a toddler, my mother was concerned about my speech, hearing and concentration and asked our family doctor for advice. He conducted a short ‘whispering’ test from the opposite end of the room and said there was nothing to worry about.

In the last year or so, when I’ve started to think about the subject, I’ve done some research and, apart from very minor similarities to some aspects of autistic spectrum disorder (ASD), I’ve only found one website that has any correlation to any of my concerns (http://www.wordfinding.com/). Then more recently I came across the term ‘lethologica’ (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lethologica) which may have some connection to the problem.

Assessment almost certainly isn’t necessary, as I don’t think the effect on my day to day life is that critical. Setting the issues out in black and white and attempting to describe it, as I’ve tried to do here, probably makes more of an issue of it than is warranted.

But I might change my mind.

Asinine aphorisms

Tinkering with puns, oronyms, homonyms, heterographs and homophones, well, something like that:


Cold toast; butter late than never.

Plain English guide; clarity begins a tome.

Pick up a music book; raise the volume.

Rugby; know pain, know game.

Erectile dysfunction proverb; all’s swell that ends swell.

 

Ore on hymns, hoe mown hims, hater owe grafts and home of phones:


To wear is you man, two four give deep vine.

Eerily tube head and hurling two rice mixer man wail the unwise.

Love of moon knees the route of fall weevil.

Pea pulling lass how says shoe dent thrust owns.

Ape plays four a very thin, hand eave hairy thinning hits plaice.

May bee hits called enough two freezer balls offer brass monk quay, butt theirs nope lace like comb.

If you can’t stand the hate get art of the cute chin.

At ten shone deaf is sit high pair active ET dis-sword her.

A pitcher is worth a throw sand-wards.

A leotard cannot change its spots.

Likeable Ena China Shop.

Learn to talk before you pun.

Many hands make plight worse.

A stick in thyme says mine.

Make a slick pose out of a Scouse seer.

Merry in haste; relentless pleasure.

Money Hans makes lie to work.

Banging your ted against a brick wall.

North thing dentured, north thing grained.

Look beef; all you’ll heap.

Anna play day keeps the dock tray way.

Nose mock without fear.

Won man’s meat is an udder man spy son.

 

An unrelated reminder; Friar Tuck doesn’t like spoonerisms and (according to @VenusDeMileage) neither does Betty Swollocks.


The first rule of Homophone Club is: ‘Yew do knot torque about Homophone Club.’




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Humour

Puns and word-play

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