Sometimes, opportunities present themselves that simply mustn’t be passed by:

And, a few seconds later…

Wheeeeeee!

I had a plan. We’d leave at about 1400 and avoid the rush-hour traffic, reaching St. Annes by around 1730. I was up until late on Thursday night blogging the Richard Dawkins event, so packed hurriedly on the Friday morning before heading to my guitar lesson half an hour’s drive away in Solihull. After that I walked Megan and started preparing lunch. Everything was going swimmingly.

And then I realised I’d left my dancing shoes in Stratford.

I mean, of all the things to forget. I had battery chargers of all shapes and sizes, I had spare clothes in case of unfortunate rainstorms, I even had my trusty compactflash/cd-writer in case I filled my memory card. But dancing shoes? No. We ended up leaving at 1500, got caught in traffic and arrived at 1845, fifteen minutes before the evening meal. I am a muppet. Still, I was upgraded to a deluxe room, with a great view of the sea:

Last year very few of us had danced in a ballroom before, let alone in front of people we didn’t know, so everybody was very hesitant to step up. Happily there were no such problems this time. The first evening’s dancing was casual dress and good fun, even if some of the music was, um, godawful. Well, that’s not entirely fair; it was square tangos directly from 1930’s Bournemouth and jives slower than java that annoyed me, but I’m picky like that
The next day we took a trip en masse along the beach, where people were doing this:

My first thought was ‘waterboarding’, which seems unlikely, so I have christened it ‘windskurfing’.

After invading a coffee shop Lynsey and I wandered around the shops for a while. I found Fabric of the Cosmos and Does Anything Eat Wasps? in a charity shop for under £2 each, which was cool. Then the strong wind drove us back to the hotel, where we sat by the foyer fire watching a very silly Rock Hudson film and reading, before evacuating as people arrived to watch some football match.

Saturday night’s dancing was smart dress, which I always find funny. Women look great, but men? No. There’s a level of ’smart dress’ at which most men start looking ridiculous…I am prepared to concede that some men can look as good in a tie as without, but no more than that and it doesn’t apply to me anyway. I decided that if I had to wear a tie it was going to be fun, so found one picturing all the characters from South Park Everybody took their ties and jackets off after twenty minutes anyway.

All the dancing was great fun, although I struggled a little on some of the ballroom. The crowded floor was tricky at times. The latin was good, though Late on Saturday evening came the raffle. Confirmation bias it may be, but I always seem to win raffles. In a room of 60 people and seven prizes I won twice on Saturday evening. The first was a box of chocolates, the second I was told to give to Lynsey. She ended up doing a ’special surprise’ demonstration dance with another member of the group, and received a loud round of applause.

As with last year, we met up with a dance group from Stafford. They’ve been learning for six extra months and are far superior…or so they seemed last year. This time, it was subtly different. Our teachers differ wildly in style: theirs move quickly and teach many different steps; ours go far more slowly, making sure everybody can achieve each different move, but get through far less as a result. And with the benefit of an extra year’s experience I could tell that what had looked very impressive last year was, on occasion, a little dodgy. Don’t get me wrong - I’m not criticising or saying I and my group are all perfect. But what we can do, we generally do well. I feel bad putting it that way, but it’s what happened. Once I realised that they weren’t always more advanced I felt much less intimidated.

Last year we learnt the barn dance, and I struggled with one of the turns. We were partnering members of the other group, and at the end the lady looked at me, said “well, that was different”, and walked off. Not the friendliest person in the world. This year the exact same thing happened, except she got the turn wrong. Ah, justice.

I found the last two dancing weekends very tough. My normal social neuroses went haywire and I didn’t cope very well at times, but this weekend was much, much better. I’ve been doing ok in this regard for the last few months, which helps, but I’ve also got to know various other people in my group. For the first time I went to bed not feeling like I should go home. Which is actually odd, as there was one moment where it wouldn’t have been unreasonable to wonder whether I was being deliberately avoided. But only once, and a kind soul did notice and make up for it a minute later. It didn’t actually bother me all that much, perhaps because reality doesn’t compare to the paranoia in my confused little mind, but it’s ironic that the other times I was worrying over nothing, this time I wasn’t over something.

On Sunday Lynsey and I headed over to Blackpool. The theme park is free to enter, but each ride costs a certain number of ‘tickets’, each of which costs £1. The Big One was a 7-ticket ride! We wandered around and figured out which were worth the money. I couldn’t talk her into riding The Big One (if I had a penny for every time I’ve said that) but happily there wasn’t much of a queue so she didn’t have to wait too long. It was excellent fun

After hitting the carousel we took a walk along the beachfront before coming home. Blackpool was a little ’70s for my tastes, but nevertheless interesting to visit. One question remains, though: does anybody have any clue what this is?:

What did you think of the new Robin Hood on Saturday? It didn’t do much for me, to be honest. That’s not to say I thought it bad, just nothingy. I didn’t find it at all dramatic, the dialogue seemed dull and I’m not convinced the plot made much sense. 1900 on a Saturday night is a family slot, though, and it’s entirely possible it’s designed more for young children. There’s plenty of time for it to improve, too.

I’ve always liked the Robin Hood tales, and used to collect anything related. I’ve never actually seen the rather mystical 80s tv show, although I did read Richard Carpenter’s book adaptations. I had all sorts of different versions of the stories, from beautifully illustrated hardback tomes to Enid Blyton’s take (she had Robin beat Little John in their first quarterstaff encounter, so clearly missed the point). A problem with many versions is that they lose focus after King Richard returns. How can he stay an outlaw? They generally have the King be just as evil, which feels false. Richard Carpenter’s take was pretty good, as I recall - the King was a good guy, but hungry for glory and generally misguided.

Despite the derision it seems to generally receive, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is still one of my favourite films, and not just because Alan Rickman kicked ass as the Sheriff of Nottingham. I have the original cheapo DVD version, but there’s a fancier director’s-cut widescreen copy available now. I’m waiting until I see it for under a tenner.

That was something else about the new show - Robin was just too good a shot. Kevin Costner’s Robin did at least take two shots to snap the rope across the courtyard, and even then it was only once. Saturday night’s split two ropes in quick succession, then took out the final pair with two arrows fired simultaneously. What is ever going to challenge him? And don’t even mention that sword throw…Yeah, ok, I’m not going to think about it any more.

Halfway to St. Annes I discovered that my tax disc was a month out of date. I hadn’t received the reminder form, but I really should have noticed sooner. The thing that really worried me, though, was that I also couldn’t remember receiving anything about insurance. I bought the car thirteen months ago and would have insured it at the same time as it was taxed…I figured the tax could wait a couple of days until I got home, but the insurance was another matter. I couldn’t even remember which of three possible companies the insurance was with. I decided to buy another six months just in case - there’s normally a 14-day cancellation period - and my very patient sister helped me out over the phone. She had the clever idea of logging into confused.com with my details, and found a previously saved quote from this June. I sold my previous car in June 2005, and maybe I’d bought the insurance just before, or something. Based on this and the fact I’d had no reminders I decided it was more likely to be ok, but drove the 2.5hr M6 journey very nervous and overly cautious, just in case. It turned out that I had indeed renewed the insurance back in June, but I wish I’d remembered that on Friday!

I arrived home at 0100 last night to find a note saying there was a leak from my flat into the rooms below, and first thing this morning there was a call from the housing association. I figured it was the shower as there’s been a small puddle appearing next to the base recently, and I hadn’t gotten around to having it checked out yet. However, I visited the lady downstairs and found the leak had abruptly started last Thursday, and wasn’t actually underneath the shower. I checked out my boiler cupboard and found the floor drenched. For unknown reasons the previous occupier blanked off one of the pipes with a tap instead of a cap, and it must have started leaking late last week. Really unlucky, as I’m sure I’d have noticed if I’d been around. The plumbers are coming around this afternoon to fix the tap and take a look at the shower, but for now the problem’s been solved by a bowl.

That sorted, I applied for car tax online. It’s possible without the reminder form as long as you have the registration certificate, and they also automatically check the details against MOT and insurance databases, which is cool. It did warn me that I’d committed an offence by going a month without tax, so I’ll have to wait and see whether I’m fined. Hopefully not, although it would be perfectly reasonable of them to do so. The date is already marked in next year’s calendar - I’m not going through all that again!

At Blackpool. It really is quite surprisingly high

It is difficult to believe that millions of women genuinely want to cover themselves up the grounds that men can’t be trusted to control themselves. The BBC article says:

Conservative policy director Oliver Letwin said it would be “dangerous doctrine” to tell people how to dress.

I’d be interested to see the context of this (no time now - argh) - whose side is he on?

Buried in the depths of this site is a list of 50 Things to Do Before I Die. #12 is ‘Thank Richard Dawkins - in person or as close as possible’, which I’m happy to say I can now tick off the list!

A friend, my parents and I went to see him in conversation with a local radio presenter at the local civic hall. I’ve mentioned on countless occasions that he’s one of my intellectual heroes due to his The Blind Watchmaker launching me into science and skepticism at age 19, and I’m not ashamed to admit I was quite excited. A little nervous too, in case he disappointed. Although not a part of the official tour, the topic was his latest novel: The God Delusion. Happily, he was as eloquently vociferous in person as in print.

The first 45 minutes saw him questioned on various points from the book. The presenter wasn’t hostile, but didn’t shy from the big questions - as well he shouldn’t. What’s the problem with moderate religion? What about the wonder we all feel when we look at the stars? Why is there something instead of nothing? He also brought up various other famous moments, such as the so-often-misinterpreted comments equating religious upbringings with child abuse, which RD was quick to clarify.

Having read him, Sam Harris (whom he wholeheartedly endorsed) and various other atheists I could almost predict the substance of the answers and it was tricky to gauge how it came across to a ‘lay’ audience. I think he did a good job of emphasising that his quarrel is with religion, not the believer, although there were certainly audience members who took it personally. I can see how people could tune into the inflammatory parts and ignore the rest, but I don’t know how you counter that.

There was a final question regarding faith schools - he’s not a fan - then the interval, during which he signed copies of The God Delusion. I of course joined the queue! I’d taken my copy of The Blind Watchmaker along with me, and he kindly signed that instead

I said the thank-you I’d been rehearsing in my head and toddled off so as not to delay the very large queue. I am now most chuffed.

After the interval came a question and answer session, which was great. First up was a local vicar, complete with dog-collar (he’d come straight from a meeting rather than ‘attending in uniform’), who took great exception to the criticism of his church. He wanted to know what the evidence was that removing religion would result in a peaceful world. Stalin was an atheist, etc. RD replied that this misinterpreted the statements - he’d said that suicide bombings and many acts of horrendous violence would not happen without religion, not that the world would be peaceful. Despite having the reasons detailed, the vicar then again asked for the evidence, which didn’t make him look very good. He then wanted to know why there was something instead of nothing, which had already been addressed.

Possibly most interesting was a young guy who accused RD of attacking a straw-man. The extremists in The Root of All Evil? were not indicative of mainstream religion in any way, surely? It was pointed out that it may seem that way to those of us in the UK, but America is very different. The guy expressed doubts about this, but was visibly taken aback when told that 50% of US citizens believe the Earth is fewer than 10,000 years old.

The people behind me had been whispering incessantly throughout the evening, clearly unimpressed, and raised their hands en masse during the Q&A session. I was expecting something dramatic, given their apparent disdain. They turned out to be pagans, which utterly surprised me, and asked what RD thought of worshipping nature. I don’t think his reply about revelling in and adoring nature, but not seeing anything supernatural therein, impressed them much.

Somebody couldn’t see how picking and choosing from scripture meant you were applying an external system of morality. Another came out with the weird statement that mutations are only ever detrimental, so how could evolution occur in the way that’s claimed? Somebody actually asked how you can know right from wrong without a morality from God, which took me aback - I’ve never seen anybody say that in person before.

The evening’s only off-note came at the end, when the presenter asked how many people in the audience believed in an intercessory God, and how many were atheists. The latter far outnumbered the former, but then it was a self-selecting group - far more atheists will have heard of / be interested in seeing Richard Dawkins in the first place.

A highly successful evening! I know there are various commenters who will argue vigorously against Dawkins and some who would mock my excitement. I’m happy to debate anybody, but give me this one, please? It’s really intended as a description rather than an argument, and there’ll be plenty more posts detailing my religious views where you can lay into me as much as you like, I promise

A while back I signed up on MySpace, but trying to do anything on that site makes my brain explode and leak out of my ears in a lumpy gelatinous waterfall. Facebook seems much more user-friendly (or could just mean I’m getting old), so if anybody ever wants to add me as a chum, my profile’s here.

In a pleasing coincidence, yesterday I posted my 2000th blog post, as well as the 2000th photo upload to flickr. I shall therefore spend an introspective few paragraphs…

Well, maybe not. Well, maybe a little.

Since installing the mint stats collector just under a year ago, the most popular posts have been on HDR photography, 75 Bands and life coaching. Most ‘interesting‘ images are an HDR shot of a London market, Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, Texas and Pink Floyd at Live 8.

Busy few days ahead. I’m off to see a Richard Dawkins talk this evening - I’m taking my copy of The Blind Watchmaker on the off chance he’s available for book signings - then tomorrow I’m going to St. Annes for a dancing weekend. I’m supposed to get a deluxe room after an email exchange with the hotel owner over the use of some photographs I took last year, which should be pleasant! It’s half an hour’s walk from Blackpool, and I’m hoping to ride the Manic Rollercoaster of Death during the day. I also have a 2200 word entry for a writing competition with a 1500 word limit, which will probably drive me nuts for the greater part of next week.

Spam comment caught by Akismet:

yes i have many problems too! dont worry be happy

I think I’ll go around blogs leaving this comment for real.

I’ve seen some odd names for narrowboats, but this is one of the more bizarre:

Why on Earth would you name your boat after a lack of oxygen?

It could be worse, mind. I was recently told of a couple who visited a boat for sale and found its name was ‘Stolen Child’. Stolen Child?!

I can’t believe the BBC missed this opportunity:

The new landlady of a Tyneside pub has spoken of her surprise at discovering that one of the regulars is a horse.

Jackie Gray recently took over the Alexandra Hotel in Jarrow and said she was shocked when carthorse Peggy joined owner Peter Dolan for a pint.

The article neglects to mention her first question: ‘why the long face?’

*dies*

Just to spread the word that Skepchick.org has just started taking pre-orders for the 2007 calendar. In their own words:

Two calendars, two dozen critical thinkers in various states of undress

There are Skepchick and Skepdude versions available¹ and all money goes to good skeptical causes. Intrigued as I am by the presence of James Randi, I think Skepchick’s the one for me. Last year’s version sold out rapidly - well before I heard about it - so it might be worth getting in a pre-order before early November if you fancy one. Anybody worried about exploitation should see this forum thread and last year’s photos.

1. somebody on Bad Astronomy commented that they could have easily made the male version rhyme - I bet they were tempted [↩]

While there are many other things I could be doing, I’m irresistibly drawn to really bad comic covers. This one in particular is truly excellent, for:

Not only does it feature a ‘Legion of Super-Pets’…
Not only does the left-hand cover claim that shapeshifting isn’t a superpower…
Not only does it feature Krypto the Superdog biting somebody in the butt…
There’s a Super Monkey!!!!!

It is now my mission to discover more about Super Monkey. Except not now, because I have things to do. I must not investigate Super Monkey. Mustn’t. I will do something useful. I will not investigate Super Monkey until this evening.

The 2006 Nobel Prize for Physics has been won by John C Mather and George F Smoot for their work on measuring the cosmic microwave background. It’s clearly a major honour, but I bet the question they’re asked most today is ‘are you the guy who was rolled over Harvard Bridge?’

Incidentally, Google’s built-in calculator understands smoots.