In these parts the passage of time is measured on only one calendar:
For me a calendar is not a calendar without Austin Mitchell, Richard Whiteley, Christa Ackroyd or Christine Talbot somewhere in the mix. But we can't carry Kirkstall Road's finest with us everywhere (though I do keep Gaynor Barnes in a backpack). To negotiate ones hectic schedule on the move, one needs some sort of portable diary to keep track of forthcoming events.
I've never been very good with diaries. I have a cupboard full just here, most of which seldom have anything written in them beyond January. Generally I have been rather better at remembering dates than writing them.
Now, though, alcohol and age weary my brain. When I started Library School it became apparent to me that some sort of grand timetable might be of use. And so I made myself a little calendar and kept it in my notebook. This was all well and good if I had my notebook with me: ideal for when I had a lecture, but less so at any other time. So I had another little notebook too, and various bits of paper, and everything would (sometimes) be collated into a grand spreadsheet here on my computer (you may recall it as #50 in this post).
This situation was unsatisfactory. I considered some web-based solution but realised I would never keep it up to date. What would be useful, though, I thought, would be an on-line lecture timetable of some kind. It just so happened that my university was thinking along a similar path, and had attempted to cobble together a Google Calendar. I played around with it, and eventually copied some script to a webpage where I could refer to the calendar with ease. Alas, most of the time only half my lectures would appear. Doubtless the problems were more the fault of the university than of Google Calendar, but the whole débâcle did nothing to win me over to the concept. I considered another faff around but decided it would be quicker to write the thing out on a piece of paper.
This far from ideal state of affairs lasted until just the other month, when I bought myself a new telephone (of the mobile variety) complete with a built-in calendar. My telephone travels with me pretty-much everywhere and so now when I have an event I wish to record, I can record it to that. My diary woes are solved.
At work, itinerant members of staff are encouraged to share their hectic lifestyles in the calendar bolted to Microsoft's Outlook email client. Outside work I am loathe to broadcast to a wider audience my precise location for fear that they might find me. In both regards, Google Calendar seems redundant.
On the subject of Google more generally, it's been annoying me an awful lot of late. As a consequence of this blog I have acquired "an account" which serves, essentially, to make searching the web more difficult, and checking my university email account even more of a chore than it was before. In this climate, my interest in a Google Calendar is somewhat less than my interest in the local news programming of an area other than the one in which I live (for at least that has some curiosity value).
In the '90s, my friends and I became mildly obsessed with Calendar, mainly because it was a bit crap. Our obsession was rewarded consistently: a behind-the-scenes documentary (Channel 4's Deadline), a late-night version of the show set in Emmerdale Farm's Woolpack (with Mike from Mike's Carpets behind the bar), a Calendar-based panel-show presented by Barry Cryer (Cryer's Crackers) with Richard and Christa as team captains, and real-life Alan Partridge-esque car-crash The Richard Whiteley Show. Until Google's knock-off version of Calendar comes complete with such extras as this, I will have nothing to do with it.
I was going to end this CPD23 post with a clip of Cryer's Crackers or The Richard Whiteley Show, but, alas, YouTube has scant footage of both (a Google conspiracy, no doubt). Instead, revel in the greatest gift that Calendar did bring:
This situation was unsatisfactory. I considered some web-based solution but realised I would never keep it up to date. What would be useful, though, I thought, would be an on-line lecture timetable of some kind. It just so happened that my university was thinking along a similar path, and had attempted to cobble together a Google Calendar. I played around with it, and eventually copied some script to a webpage where I could refer to the calendar with ease. Alas, most of the time only half my lectures would appear. Doubtless the problems were more the fault of the university than of Google Calendar, but the whole débâcle did nothing to win me over to the concept. I considered another faff around but decided it would be quicker to write the thing out on a piece of paper.
This far from ideal state of affairs lasted until just the other month, when I bought myself a new telephone (of the mobile variety) complete with a built-in calendar. My telephone travels with me pretty-much everywhere and so now when I have an event I wish to record, I can record it to that. My diary woes are solved.
At work, itinerant members of staff are encouraged to share their hectic lifestyles in the calendar bolted to Microsoft's Outlook email client. Outside work I am loathe to broadcast to a wider audience my precise location for fear that they might find me. In both regards, Google Calendar seems redundant.
On the subject of Google more generally, it's been annoying me an awful lot of late. As a consequence of this blog I have acquired "an account" which serves, essentially, to make searching the web more difficult, and checking my university email account even more of a chore than it was before. In this climate, my interest in a Google Calendar is somewhat less than my interest in the local news programming of an area other than the one in which I live (for at least that has some curiosity value).
In the '90s, my friends and I became mildly obsessed with Calendar, mainly because it was a bit crap. Our obsession was rewarded consistently: a behind-the-scenes documentary (Channel 4's Deadline), a late-night version of the show set in Emmerdale Farm's Woolpack (with Mike from Mike's Carpets behind the bar), a Calendar-based panel-show presented by Barry Cryer (Cryer's Crackers) with Richard and Christa as team captains, and real-life Alan Partridge-esque car-crash The Richard Whiteley Show. Until Google's knock-off version of Calendar comes complete with such extras as this, I will have nothing to do with it.
I was going to end this CPD23 post with a clip of Cryer's Crackers or The Richard Whiteley Show, but, alas, YouTube has scant footage of both (a Google conspiracy, no doubt). Instead, revel in the greatest gift that Calendar did bring:
Stop and reset.
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