Frozen lakes and lakesides are always impressive. Around here at the moment we just have frozen millponds and the ice is rapidly melting. thank heavens! Still on the subject of the USA, I came across two stories about guns today. There was a two year old who found his father's gun in the glove compartment of the car, pointed it at his own chest and managed to pull the trigger. No one felt that the father, who worked as a sheriff and so had every right to carry a gun, was in any way negligent. Just a tragic accident.
Imagine being so complacent about carrying guns around that you can leave it in the glove compartment of your car or carry in it in your handbag, just like your mobile phone. And I even get annoyed when I see people giving in to their toddlers' demands to play with the mobile phone. You have an expensive piece of equipment and you let a toddler get his sticky finger on it??!!
The other story was in an article about the photographer Robert Zuckerman and his Hollywood photos. It concerned the death of Brandon Lee, son of Bruce Lee. He was accidentally killed on set because the gun they used in the filming was loaded with live ammunition by mistake. By mistake! What were they even doing with live ammunition on set? Did they think they might need to defend someone from an attack?
This is the moment when you feel reassured by the health and safety nuts in the UK who would not doubt have someone doing a risk assessment before allowing a gun, let alone bullets, on the set.
Of course, it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that someone deliberately put the live bullets in the gun. Oh, no! That way conspiracy theory lies! Enough of that.
Today I took the tram out to Chorlton where my friend Heidy picked me up and took me off to her house for lunch: her famous onion soup and left over stollen from Christmas. In Chorlton and in her part of Stockport there was no snow and I seemed rather overdressed with my woolly hat and scarf and double mittens.
On the tram I found myself once again seated next to one of the local eccentrics. I must have the kind of face that encourages people to talk to me and to tell me their life stories. I was sitting there quietly writing stuff down in my trusty notebook when he leaned over and commented on how neat and clear my handwriting was and how he wished he could write so well. There you go, time to put the notebook away! Most of us have been tempted to cast a glance at what someone has open on their iPad or iPhone; it has to be admitted. But most of us try to resist the temptation and certainly don't comment on what is being typed. So when someone tells you that your handwriting is nice and clear, they are obviously reading your words so you stop writing and put the notebook away. None of their business what you write about!
So he proceeded to engage me in conversation about his life as an investigator, first working as a customs man in various parts of the world and then in other places and in other areas of investigation. He told me how to spot a fraudster and produced documents, photocopies of marriage certificates, to demonstrate to me how you can tell they are false. An odd things to show off about to a complete stranger on a tram!
He went on to tell me about the lack of help he receives from church officials in these investigations, how they all work together to cover up corruption. And in the next breath he commented about the cheek of such priests, guilty of all sorts of stuff, telling him to say five Hail Marys when he goes to confession.
Now why, if he thinks the church is so corrupt, does he still go along to confession? It beggars belief!
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