Abaculus

Yesterday we had to go to Chester for a business related matter. I only tagged along because although we now have Sat Nav, my dad cannot trust it.

"No, it will take me down the wrong street!"
"It will direct me to a one way system, and I'll never be able to find it"

Perhaps not pure glass half empty syndrome, but way too old to trust his life to a computer. Remember, my dad has to print off everything, so sat nav is pushing it a bit too far. He'll get sent down a lane, never to be seen again.

So muggins here, set it up and sat in the front all the way, letting a machine do the work. Just sitting there for reinforcement, should the machine tell him to start flying to Mars, then blow up, leaving my dad heading towards the Asteroid Belt to be eaten up by little green men sporting only one eye complete with an antenna. It was interesting watching my dad actually have to rely on this for the first time. The bumps in the road as you approach a roundabout (to remind you to slow down) causes him not to be able to hear it, because there's background noise! His ear gets directed to the machine, and he's half struggling. Then I have to intervene, and tell him what's what. There's two eye balls in your head, use them. Instead I think I'm going to have to synchronise this gadgetry with the radio, to make this A BIT LOUDER, for the benefit of certain people.

I think both my parents are losing bits of their hearing (how medical does that read?), as I constantly have to repeat myself. As far as I'm concerned they're still hearing, they will outdo me any day (they'd have a long way to catch up) but this deviation to history is way too easy for me to pick up on. I'm too accustomed to the behaviour. However, whether its a lack of paying attention, me not speaking clearly enough or they simply cannot hear; I don't have a clue.

"You should go and get your ears tested"
"I'M NOT WEARING HEARING AIDS!"

Here my entire childhood echoes back at me, and the irony is not lost. They don't need to be pulled up on the irony either. Just for half hearted reinforcement I get the same line, knowing there's zero point in throwing that line with me. Faces almost display guilt. They can't quite do the old people's thing of cursing old age, because guess what? I've worn such contraptions since four years old. And you made me. Not the hide in the ear thing, either. And the I'm too embarrassed for anyone to see this! Hearing Aid! Oh. My. God. Get over it. I've had those box things strapped to my chest, and quite possible still have a dent under my chin to prove it. (For anyone who hasn't had the pleasure of wearing such a device, everytime you ran you got knocked rather abruptly under your chin: grounds for a head scan). And whilst I'm at it, those people who have to hide them in their ear, because Oh. My. God. WHAT IF SOMEONE KNOWS I'M MISSING ABOUT TWO FREQUENCIES? Get over it already. Hey, the world really has not fallen apart. And no you're not normal.

Not that I have some chip on my shoulder over this, playing a reverse role does nothing but seriously amuse me. This is intended to be funny. I'm denying my parents the full right to bemoan old age, just by my very existence right at the very end of some scale.

And the funniest part? I frequently have to tell them to turn down the TV, because ITS TOO DAMN LOUD. If I was a bad html junkie here, I'd insert increasing font size, in varying HEX code to signify just how bright this would look if sound was visual. To get the point how much the volume gets turned up and up and UP! Precisely the thing I used to do when I was about 6, because subtitles were non existent. Instead of the provision of a solution, the television USED TO BLAST AWAY LIKE THIS and I'd be none the wiser as to what was going on. However, lets turn it up anyway, to aspire to be the gold standard of hearingness. This whole lark lasted no more than a few minutes, and that's why Ladies and Gentlemen, I never watched television as a kid; and that habit kind of stuck today.

Fast forward to 2008. The subtitle requirement is still here (and I don't actually understand anything sound wise); but turn the decibel threshold up and my entire chair starts to vibrate. How can anyone sit through that? Its like someone is prodding you in the arse with misshaped instruments, and slapping you on the back. Not just once, but through the entire programme and with varying degrees of intensity. Except there's no rhythm, and it means sweet nothing, apart from turn up the annoying factor.

So I'm all, "GIVE ME THE REMOTE!" So the television gets turned down.
"Turn it up, we can't hear!"
"Read the damn subtitles!"

And I've had to get up and move to the other room because of this. Ah, don't you just love role reversal, and knocking assumptions on the head.

So where were we? Camera! Or lack of.

I was thinking this would be a direct trip there and back, I didn't take my camera. On leaving the house, my head was swaying if I should take and perhaps thinking I might regret it. Instead of packing the camera for a 'just in case' measure, I opted for no. My reasoning was related to stop being borderline obsessive, you're just going somewhere. Of course I regretted it. It felt as if someone had taken the trouble to remove my arm. I was lost, inside there was a burning desire to snap detail.

A good photographer I'm not: I just point, zoom and click; my camera leaves me frustrated all of the time some of the time. However capturing detail encourages you notice it. It prises out a child like fascination for beauty, opens your awareness outwards and cultivates gratitude.

En route home we wound up at the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct. The last time I was here, was around 10 years ago, I'd accompanied some young offenders on a conservation weekend (as part of their Youth Justice rehabilitation programme) and the minibus made a detour en route home.

Dad and I walked this yesterday, and the perfect place to take photos. The tree tops were literally halfway down the structure, the river flowing at the bottom of the valley, the contrasting show of fresh colours that makes spring against the newness of greenery. The sight of a barge mooring towards you, and wishing how you could record that moment. My finger needed to be pressing against on a shutter, badly. How the breeze was much more dramatic from that height soaring up the valley and over neighbouring hilltops, on a seemingly calm Spring day.

Instead, be content browsing other photos other people have taken and uploaded to Flickr.

And to turn this around, it made me appreciate photography for what it is.

I'm so tempted to hire a day boat for my birthday, married with a bottle of wine and a picnic. The problem of drink driving and never a willingness to go there aside, (although I could walk faster than these vessels yesterday); this is Wales. There's a high percentage chance the heavens will open all day, summer or not. Scrap any idea of booking ahead.

Afterwards we called in on a Welsh vineyard, about 14 miles from here. Free wine! Bara Brith Cheese, Apricot and Brandy Cheese. Raisins dipped in Shiraz, wherein I would prefer the liquid variety. Who knew Wales held such treasures, and that's why an optical instrument is imperative. To record.