Estimating distances

Here’s my folks’ estimations of how many kilometers I flew in 2006:

  • My dad opened at 20,000 km (12,400 mi)
  • My mum started at 3,000 km (1,800 mi) and seeing my face changed to 12,000 km (7,500 mi)
  • My brother volunteered 15,000 km (9,300 mi)

When my mum started at 3,000 km, I thought about the 4,800 km (3,000 mi) I spent in a car in NZ in 2004.

I flew almost 82000 km (51,000 mi).
I’m bad at estimating distances myself, mind you.

Pre-Christmas confusion

In order to add to the confusion, I’m writing this now. (nah, it’s not on purpose, really).

On the morning on 24 December I noticed a few questionable things:

  • Why are lobsters thawing?
  • Why is my brother coming over for dinner tonight?

Later in the day I got a phone call from a friend who was in the area, and we agreed to meet in Grasse for a stroll, maybe a coffee, and generally to catch up. We had some jolly good time and when it was time to split, he said he was almost in a hurry because he had dinner at his uncle’s at 9pm and that he’d better not be late for the Christmas dinner.

This is when it all became clear. Eureka-style, but far less glorious.

The ceremony of the telephone

There is a whole ceremonial around the telephone at my parents’, that I take a certain pleasure to witness. The time is chosen carefully, and generally well in advance. Their side of the conversation is often prepared, sometimes even rehearsed. A list of topics may be written, too. Spare paper and pencil are made available, of course. Reference material, related documents, files, copies, depending on the nature of the call, are brought in.

Before there was a cordless phone in their home, my parents would take the telephone to the living room table, as close to my mother’s papers and documents as its cord would allow, and she would place it carefully next to her notes.

Since the arrival of the cordless phone, the ceremonial of the telepone takes place in the living room for business matters, or in the kitchen for personal matters.

In any case, my mum and dad sit next to each other. In any case, the loudspeaker is on. More often than not, my mum does the talking 😉 It’s funny how loud she speaks when she’s on the phone. She denies speaking louder, of course 😉

I’m not such a phone person myself. I seldom place phone calls, sometimes fail to return them (bad me). People are kind enough with me to not bear grudges.

I’ve had my current cellphone for two years and a half and here are the duration counts:

  Received calls' duration: 47:57:54
  Dialled calls' duration:  50:06:24

It’s a little late now and I’m a tad tired (and I suck at maths, granted), but I think that amounts to about 3 minutes per day. Heh, not that bad, after all.

Penguins

Sign cautioning against penguins
Sign cautioning against penguins

Today I learnt a few things about penguins.

My dad watched a documentary on them and here is what he said:

The male penguin looks for a rock to bring to every female penguins until one accepts it. This is the ‘go ahead’ and they make out. Then the male penguin goes to look for more rocks and builds a nest.

He said that female penguins live for about 12 years, that they start reproducing at the age of 6 and that they lay 2 eggs per year. Then he described the rock bringing little dance he saw:

He walked with his wings spread out, a penguin walk, really. And the rock was in beak. None of the female penguins accepted his rock. The little guy will have to wait till next year.

Then my dad laughed and explained:

He even brought a rock to the photographer!