Women like funny men - really?

An article titled "Women Like Funny Men" recently caught my eye.  I have to ask:  which women?  Let's face it we are individuals not a herd of sex-starved creatures looking for the ultimate thing in men and laughs.  I don't know how many women were surveyed, not that I think it's relevant.  If you're ticking boxes and you come across the question "would you be attracted to a man who made you laugh?" I guess most of us in the "women" category would answer yes. At any rate a funny guy is better than one who makes you cry, right?  That doesn't mean it's the only criteria we'd look for. I guess top of the list would be kindness, thoughtfulness, reliability, boring stuff like that which is so important in any relationship.

To get to the bottom of this interesting statistic I searched the web and found the statement "women like funny men for a fling."   Really?  Does this include a sleep starved mother with a six week old baby?  If a guy makes her laugh she's going to have a fling with him?  Where's she going to put the baby while she's doing that?

And following on from the funny guy idea, think about having the supreme joker around all the time. You'd get to hate that laugh wouldn't you?  When you are collapsed in an armchair after a hard and frustrating day at the office you want someone who'll listen to your grumbling not a stand up comedy act in your living room.  They should have gone for a question which goes something like "would you fall for a man who listens to you and massages your back at the same time?"  Now you're talking, right?

So statistics have proven yet again that they are not to be taken completely seriously.   And guys, you don't need to dash off and buy the latest joke book.  Us "statistics women" like to laugh but we like to be loved, too.

Mail at a Snail's Pace or Time was

Trawling through the BBC website this morning I read an article on the closure of India's telegram service.  It started in 1851 and survived until last Sunday which was the last day a telegram was delivered in the country.
This got me thinking (yes, I do sometimes lol) that a lot of romance has gone forever out of everyday life.

Regular readers will know that I am a voracious reader.  One of my favourite authors is Somerset Maugham, in particular his volumes of short stories set in the outposts of the Far East where those in the British colonial service spent their days. Maugham's stories are fascinating for the atmosphere of heat, sweat and isolation which they impart.  It is another world, when life was slow, a world now gone forever.  I am sure life was tough and people had to make the most of it (not so different from today, really, is it?).  It was far from romantic in real life, and no, I am not in favour of colonialism but I am interested in people.  How did these people cope? Maugham, who travelled extensively, gives us an insight into their lives.  "The Club" was the centre piece of their lives.  Everyone for miles around visited it and played bridge, danced or simply chatted.    New arrivals brought English newspapers often several weeks or even months old but still read with interest.  Visitors showed up at distant outposts on the turgid rivers of Burma bringing with them the so-called "book bag", a treasure trove for the isolated District Officer in his lonely jungle home.  And the dream of returning to England kept them all going although the reality was that many who had spent most of their lives in service in the harsh climes of the Far East could not settle down in what to them had become an alien country.  But that's another story.

Travelling meant getting on board a ship and spending weeks on your journey. When you embarked you boarded a train to your next destination.  Travelling meant having your mail forwarded to the poste restante service of one of the old-established travel agencies.  Imagine the anticipation as you collected the little bundle of envelopes waiting for you.  There was time to order afternoon tea or coffee and settle down to read the news from friends and loved ones and discuss it all over a leisurely dinner with fellow travellers.

Our habit of racing through text messages or emails or trawling our Twitter account is far more stressful and far less fun in my opinion. Sure, there are times when instant communication is a blessing.  I'm not knocking progress.  I just feel that we've lost a bit of romance in our lives, somehow, and the cessation of the India telegram service brought this home to me this week.

Mobile Gossip

There's been a lot of kerfuffle about the cashier who refused to serve a customer until she'd stopped talking on her mobile. Having worked as one myself (cashier not mobile, don't get smart!) I must admit that my sympathies are on the side of the cashier.  It's a thankless job at the best of times. You are going to tell the customer just how much they must cough up for that trolley of goodies, take the money off them and keep smiling and friendly while you do it.  And all the while most of them look right through you as if you didn't exist.  Their thoughts are already on driving home and cooking some of the stuff or having a cup of tea before getting started.  You are just a little supermarket incident in their day - unless you make the mistake of wanting to be treated as if you were a living breathing human being.

We've all been distracted by people chatting loudly on their mobiles.  Every time I get on the bus someone sitting fairly close to me is having the ultimate chat:  'yeah I'm on the bus'; 'I should be home in about 10 minutes'; 'so what did you do then?' (this at least is more intriguing even if I can't hear the other end of the conversation).  I was once on the train from Sutton to Victoria Station in London and got the full extent of a landlord's problems.  It seems that the tenant in Flat 1B had moved to Flat 5C and the new tenant in Flat 1B couldn't figure out how to use the washing machine.  He was talking to the tenant in Flat 5C and running through the solutions with her/him.  By the time we got to Victoria Station I felt I could have set up an advisory service for his tenants.  At any rate I felt I could get the washing machine in Flat 1B working without too much trouble.  Maeve Binchy said she often got ideas from her novels from listening to conversations on buses.  This would have been a perfect plot for something like  "Murder in the Cold Rinse" or 'The washing machine had me at Start'.  Hmm, the possibilities are endless. Next time I'm on the bus I'll pay more attention.  There's sure to be a story there somewhere.

What Makes Us Happy

A global survey is being carried out (see details here on the BBC website http://www.bbc.co.uk/magazine-23097143)  and collated by the World Happiness Data Center in Rotterdam.  The World Happiness Data Center?  Now that sounds intriguing.  And you thought you whistled that happy tune because you were, well, just plain happy.  And how do you convert all that data into world happiness? And is everyone happy about the same things?  As far as the last question goes, it appears we are all happy about different things. And happiness changes.  Well, I guess that doesn't come as a surprise.  Kissing Elvis wouldn't make me as happy now as it would have fifty years ago!  And here's a nice bit of statistics:  the older you get the more content you get.  You know your heart is not broken when a relationship breaks up. You know the world isn't going to stop because you wore the wrong dress/hairstyle/lipstick to that party or have a spot on your face before your dream date turns up.

So, what else did the survey discover?  It discovered that the main correlation for being happy was leading an active life. Finding a meaning as to the why are we here and what should we do about it does not correlate to happiness. It seems if you get your butt off the couch and get out there and mix with the world you are going to be happier than the philosopher who sits at home puzzling profound life secrets.

The study indicates that being involved in politics makes you happy - who'd have thought all that back-stabbing and mind games we hear about is actually conducive to your happiness? Going out to dinner is another factor in being happy.  And people who drink in moderation are happier than people who don't drink at all.  So we can enjoy a glass or two of wine with that dinner, safe in the knowledge it's good for our happiness barometer.

Here's one for the battle of the sexes:  men are happier if they think they are goodlooking whereas if you (men and women) think you're goodlooking it increases your sense of wellbeing whether you are or not (objectively speaking).

It's a fascinating study and is ongoing.  People are encouraged to keep a diary and submit it online to the survey.  Abraham Lincoln once said "most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."  I think that sums it up.

Bright Moon

The moon is having a comeback these past few days - or should that be nights.  I've always loved looking at the new moon when it rises silently over the rim of the horizon and climbs up the night sky to join the stars.  It makes me feel very small and a bit scared, really. This huge disk, sitting up there in the dark vault of sky, doesn't make a sound.  It jumps out at you unexpectedly if you don't know that there's a full moon.

 I remember an aunt of mine, God rest her, used to take off her glasses while walking around London for fear the new moon would surprise her because she believed if you saw it first through glass it was bad luck. As for me, I used to have other issues with a full moon.  I remember crawling into work one morning after a more or less sleepless night.  As I got into the lift with a colleague I couldn't suppress a big yawn.  'New moon been keeping you awake, too?' my colleague asked sympathetically.  Up until then I had no idea that many people cannot sleep in the nights before the moon is full.  That particular time I didn't even know there was a full moon!  Then I began to monitor the nights when I couldn't sleep and yes, they all occurred at full moon. Nowadays the moon does not seem to affect my sleeping pattern and despite the super moon we are currently experiencing, I slept a full six hours last night which is very good going for me.  No, I don't have an explanation for this. 

Of course the experts pour scorn on the idea and tell us that the full moon has nothing to do with our sleeping badly or not.  When I lived in Germany someone supposedly in the know about these things said that around one million people couldn't sleep when there was a full moon but that the moon had nothing to do with their insomnia.  One million people eh?  If that were the measles it would be considered an epidemic! 

The moon also has an effect on the tides.  Living by the sea I am aware of this.  Water depth in the harbour is usually around 4.0 m at high tide when there is a full moon and between 3.6 to 3.8m at other times. So I think that this slightly eerie orb which we see at night does have an effect on us, or at least on some of us.  I suppose it is a question of how attuned we are to nature in general. 

Working while you sleep

I guess a lot of us read about that remarkable woman who does the housework while she's asleep.  Sleep working instead of sleep walking.  Interesting.  If she could figure out why and how she started doing this, she'd be on every talk show in the entire universe.  She could set up her own business and give seminars and lectures on "how to clean without knowing it" although I expect she'd come up with a snappier title than that.  And she could get in a cleaner to do the rough work although that might defeat the object.

But what about the millions of women who go out to work every day and come home to a routine of cooking, cleaning, ironing?  Not to mention helping with homework and sorting various little problems their children might have.  Oh and finding time to organise visits to grandmothers and buying presents for birthdays and newborns and having the neighbours in for a drink. These ladies only get a passing mention. Everyone knows they are there and the hard work they do but it's not something people want to see on talk shows.  'So how do you manage to get to the dry cleaners before they close, Mrs. Smith?'  'What's your quickest time for making supper and galloping off to a PTA meeting at your son's school, Mrs. Brown?'  I can't imagine a talk show host leaning closer to catch every word that Mrs. Smith or Mrs. Brown has to say on the subject.  And I bet the Mrs. Smiths and Browns of this world have plenty to say.

Now if a man were to do all that in addition to holding down a demanding job, he'd be cried up as the 'caring dad' always there for his children.  I'm not saying that modern fathers don't help with the children and the housework.  What I am saying that it is in most cases the woman who runs the household. And she gets very little credit for doing it.  Now if she got her elbows out, rolled up her sleeves and climbed the scary heights of the corporate ladder she'd get all the attention in the world.  Deservedly so.  It's good to see women in top jobs.  But who cheers for the 'ordinary' working mother as she juggles her workload with more skill than some top (male) executives can demonstrate?

Sunny Haze

I didn't get around to writing a post last week because, to be honest, I was too malafoostered by the warm sunny weather we are having!   We've had well over a week of blue skies and temperatures warm enough to melt an ice cream - well, okay not exactly the tropics but it is possible to walk around in shorts, a t-shirt and flip-flops (unless you're Victoria Beckham when you'd be in something more stunningly elegant). It is just too amazing.  Yes, that yellow disc up there in the cloudless sky really is the sun and not some strange visitation from outer space.  And doesn't it make everything look different?  People are different.  They've dug deep in their wardrobes to find summery clothes and go about with smiles on their faces.  We all know of course that this is not going to last.  Already the weather forecaster is murmuring something about rain coming in from the west.  But that's not until the start of the coming week.  So we'll do as the farmers are doing and make hay/silage while the sun shines.  I am in the country house and dog-sitting at the moment.  Everything looks wonderful, even the grass seems to sparkle under the sun's rays. The birds are whizzing around singing at the tops of their little voices and leaving their calling cards all over the car and the windows, bless them!  Tea in the garden is an everyday thing at the moment.  Who needs the Med.?