Day 440: I Am More Interested In Something Else

This is an image from my new web-blog, which is much better than this one. (It is more interactive, for example, and has not, as yet, featured the word 'cock'.)

I started it yesterday and people are already submitting their pictures. I have no doubt that it will soon be creating quite a lot of interest and chitter-chatter in media circles, and no wonder: it is really very good indeed. In fact, I am quite convinced that there soon will be a metaphorical giant snowball of traffic light people hurtling down the internet, gathering breathless fans in its wake.

Thinking ahead a month or two, I also see that my new (excellent) web-blog may also answer the question of whether or not I will need a job in Canada, for (if things go according to plan!), I will soon be spending all my time posting up pictures of traffic light people from (for e.g.) Helsinki, and will not have time to work. This, if you needed it, is yet another reason to flood my inbox (as it were!) with your photographs of traffic light people.

Talking of Helsinki, I am particularly interested in traffic light people from the following places:

- Helsinki
- Amsterdam
- Bedford
- Paris
- New York (City)
- Washington D.C.
- Rome
- Marrakech
- Cardiff
- Perth (Scotland)
- Perth (Australia)
- London
- Tokyo
- Beijing
- Vancouver
- Scotland (all)
- Wales (all)
- Ireland (all)
- Moscow
- Alaska (plus all the other States*)

(And obviously also Finland and Denmark.) But that is just the tip of the iceberg. I am sure there are many countries that I haven't even heard of (e.g. Swaziland or Lithuania); countries that you perhaps live in and would like to see featured.

So - come on over! We've having a really good time over at Traffic Light People Of The World - and there's enough room for everyone!


* unless there's a federal law that states that traffic light people across the USA should all be identical, in which case one traffic light person from (for example) Utah could be used to represent the entire country.

Day 439: I Launch An International Search For Pictures Of Little Tiny People Attached To Traffic Lights

I have long been fascinated by the little men (attached to traffic lights) that tell you when you can cross the road.

For example, here is the pleasingly chunky-thighed little man who tells you that it is OK to cross the road in certain parts of Montreal:


















I really like him. He looks like he might actually be real; he is sort of meaty. And he is very different to my memory of the traffic light men in (for e.g.) London or Amsterdam.

But more to the point, he has set me to thinking: what would happen if I built a bank of photographs of little traffic light men from all around the world? I tell you would happen: people would be really interested and it would be brilliant, possibly starting an "international craze" (a bit like for e.g. Facebook or celebrating birthdays).

And here's the good news, readers! So convinced am I that this idea is the beginning of something huge that I have taken the liberty of setting up a web-blog.

It is called Traffic Light People Of The World. If you would like to contribute to it please let me know; otherwise, I urge you to run into the street (looking out for oncoming traffic!) at your earliest convenience, photograph your (local) little traffic light man (or lady!), and send him to me forthwith.

Come on everyone! Let's get busy one time! (With our digital photographs of little traffic light people.)


* He looks like this elsewhere in Montreal, except in focus:

Day 438: I Become Acquainted With The Customs Of (French) Canadia

When one is trying to learn the customs of a new country (in my case, French Canadia, having come from the dank streets of South London), ordering a breakfast that contains an egg or two may teach you an awful lot - and jolly quickly, too!

Let me show you what I mean by using examples. (This is what scientists do. I think their lives must be hard, particularly when you consider the fact that anyone who is not a scientist is making it up.)

Example One

On 3rd December 2006, I ordered a mushroom omelette for breakfast in Montreal. When the plate came, it came with usual things (i.e. the omelette itself and some hot buttered toast*), which was nice. However, there was something else on the plate; something that should not be on the same plate as an omelette. And that thing was a fruit salad composed of fruits including melon, banana and pineapple, spewed over the plate like fructose-rich vomit.

"What is that doing there?", I whispered to my companion (a rather 'hunky' pathologist!), pointing a tremulous finger at a slice of melon the size of my own face.

"Well, see, you get fruit salad with breakfast here", he replied, chewing his man-toast and wiggling his eyebrows. "So, that's your fruit salad".

There was not much I could say to that, although to this day I cannot and will not recommend an omelette that has sat next to a seeping pineapple.

Example Two

This morning (23 September 2007), I ordered a mushroom and ham omelette for breakfast. I did not flinch at the fruit on the plate; in fact, I ate it (but after I had eaten the omelette).

It was all going quite well until I looked at my companion (a rather 'hunky' pathologist!), and then looked at his breakfast. He was eating a breakfast of ham, scrambled egg and pancake, which seemed reasonable enough; but then he picked up a flask of maple syrup and poured it over his scrambled egg.

"What are you doing?", I squeaked, thinking I had moved 3,300 miles to live with a killer.

"It's egg, ham and pancakes, but with maple syrup on it, see", he murmured, pouring another pint of sugar tree-juice across his man-ham.

"Is it NORMAL? I mean, is NORMAL to pour maple syrup on scrambled eggs?", I replied, barely able to look him in the eye.

He looked at me, eyes full of love and pity, and considered my question. "Well, it's not normal; it's a bit special. But it is within the range of acceptable behaviours, yes."

Whatever next!



* Ghastly expression; close relative of:

- fresh fruit salad
- crusty white loaf
- freshly baked wholemeal bap
- meal
- selection
- freshly milled black pepper
- crusted
- generously buttered
- moist
- pan-fried
- piping hot
- anal seepage

Day 437: I Am Officially In Canada

Yes. It is official. I am in Canada. I have in fact been here for two days, but it was only last night that I felt able to type it out officially with my tiny little monkey hands; for it was last night that dear Suzie*, mended my web-blog by putting on the new Canadian-themed title-head information-banner (plus pic).

In the new Canadian-themed title-head information-banner (plus pic), you will see the name of this web-blog ("Non-workingmonkey"), plus a picture of me (Non-workingmonkey) dressed for success (Canadian style, as depicted by Dave Shelton). I think it is really good, and I hope you like it too.

All that remains to be seen is what is going to happen next. After all, last week I lived in Brixton in London**, with many friends, jobs available had I wanted to work (which I did not), a flat near a shop, and easy access to rough oatcakes.

Now I live an hour's walk from the shop, and must find a job and make some friends. It is like starting completely all over again, right from the beginning.

But this is as nothing. The facts of my circumstances are mere facts. Infer nothing from my tone, for the simple truth is that I have made the right decision.

Here, I am in daily contact with a French-Canadian pathologist of whom I am fond (despite his tendency to cut his own hair and leave the clippings in the lavatory bowl), and this makes me happy in a way that still surprises me when I am thinking about something else.

Also, I like it here, and I like almost all the Canadians I have ever met, very much (apart from one I used to work for, and Conrad Black. Plus I do not want to listen to the music of Celine Dion).

I think it is going to be good. Either way, I think it will be interesting, which means - dare I even THINK it! - that this weblog may finally become interesting. Fingers crossed, eh?



* whose patience and kindness stopped my salty tears of frustration and restored the beaming smile to my simple face

** England, UK - the one with the red buses, black cabs and people dressed head to toe in buttons shouting "up the apples and pears, me old china!"

Day 434: I Review My Portrait In Preparation For My Removal To The Colonies

The times they are a-changing, as Bob Dylan once atonally droned, for tomorrow - as regular readers cannot fail to have noticed - I move to Canada, where I shall be spending 'quality time' with a French Canadian veterinary research pathologist who cuts his own hair and did very well in the French Canadian version of "Jeopardy".

And this can mean only one thing: this web-log must be refreshed a bit; updated visually (as it were) to reflect the change in my circumstances. (In addition to that, from 19.45 Canada time tomorrow, it will not say that I live in Brixton, London; it will say something totally different!).

However, I cannot introduce my "new look" without giving you a bit of context. So settle down - perhaps with a small glass of sweet sherry and a bowl of playing-card motif cheese nibbles - and come with me on an artistic journey.

The (Other) Artist

As an artist myself, I derive a base, almost animalistic satisfaction from collaboration with other artists. (I should add that this kind of collaboration has, in the past, yielded very positive results - unless you count the incident with Will Self and the cockring.)

My collaborator on this web-blog (which I also see as an artwork of sorts) is Dave Shelton. In truth, he only person I trust to take my true likeness. He is a gentleman as well as an artist, and unerringly captures my very essence, time after time.

The Early Years: Relaxed, But Alert

In the beginning was my profile picture. In it, you can see me in my customary pose: comfortably seated in an armchair, fez perched at a jaunty angle, small clay pipe balanced delicately in my mouth, packet of (plain) Hula-Hoops in hand, and glass of absinthe within easy reach.


























The Early Years: Industrious, But Relaxed

But there is - as regular readers will know - another side to me. Sometimes I work, particularly at writing this web-log. (Don't thank me. I know you love it. But it's always nice to be told - so don't hesitate to send appreciative letters and/or presents in boxes. Either is fine.)

In portrait that follows, you can clearly see me at my desk. As ever, my small clay pipe is stuffed in the corner of my mouth and my fez perches perilously on my ever-industrious brain - but as I am trying to concentrate you will see a cup of tea where you would normally see absinthe. On the screen of my laptop is a squirrel, an animal for which I feel nothing but contempt.
























Middle Period: The New Puritan

Neither Dave nor I could have foreseen my mother, MonkeyMother, suddenly getting all modest on our arses (which is a bit rich if you consider the circumstances of my birth and the vodka bottles 'hidden' under the sink.)

Concerned that my picture depicted me as naked as the day I was born, she would not rest until Dave covered me up; in response, Dave developed an excellent solution, called "Figgy".


























International Fame

No comment to make here, other than to show you how Dave's talent allows him to capture my essence whether I am on a donkey or in an armchair. As you will see in this particularly fine work, my fez has been replaced by a beret. That is because I am in France. Also, the absinthe is replaced by creme de menthe. A 'classy touch', I am sure you will agree!



















New Continents

But what now? Where will mine and Dave's artistic journey take us next? To Canada, is the answer - or more specifically, French Canada, also known as Quebec!

Dave has been working on my new portrait for some weeks now. In conjuction with the self-haircutting pathologist, we have developed a 'new look', including:

- a beaver (national animal of Canada, and a personal favourite of mine)
- a squirrel (prevalent in North America; annoying)
- the Canadian flag
- the symbol of Quebec
- a warm hat
- special glove-socks for my cold monkey toes
- a warm overcoat
- a glass of tawny port (they drink this as an aperitif in Canadia!)

Here is the 'work in progress":


























Good isn't it! But is it as good as the final one? No it is not! Here is the final one:

































Present Day: An Artistic Dilemma

How can I do this beautiful image justice? How can I show it to the world on my web-blog? Imagines spin through my mind; images of a new banner along the top; a new - yes, a new - sort of header-y thing. But how?








This is an actual fact. It was designed by a man called Ray Larabie (who is from Ottawa) 1997 and it is amusing without being Comic Sans. In addition, it has a really good name that is also apposite.

The question is: how do I turn Dave's finest picture into a banner along the top of my blog? (I have some really good ideas and help, thanks to a friend - but Blogger is refusing to do what it is told!)

Here is the work-in-progress in my head. (In some circles they might call it a "visual brief"). It is not very good.











In fact, perhaps the font is not very good. Or is it good? I do not think so, but the pressure to properly show the world the picture of me enjoying my new life in the colonies is skewing my artistic judgement!

Help me, sweet readers. Help me.

***UPDATE

It is better now:









And yet still it will not upload, and nor can I make the file of a high enough resolution. (I have the elements; I just don't know how to make it super using nothing but Powerpoint, a half-dead Mac, no Photoshop, new Blogger and a persistent and distressing refusal on its part to upload what I want it to.)

If anyone can help, I will weep with gratitude. It feels wrong to be here in the Canadia (which I am, and it is grate!), without my new pioneering portrait in place at the head of this masterful web-blog.

(Thank you for the comments and help and advice, all of which have been good, useful and right - I just couldn't do it.)