It was in the late 1970’s that I worked for NCR, a computer manufacturer, and I was tasked to design, write the software to customers requirements, install, train the customers staff, and maintain the installation thereafter.
The area I covered from my base offices in the UK, Nottingham and Leicester, covered a vast area, from North and South Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, down to the south of Liecestershire, from caravan manufacturers to a door-to-door cosmetic selling organization, and often I found myself driving hundreds of miles to visit my customers.
Often my journeys, especially through Lincolnshire, would take me past RAF airfields, and since a small boy I had a fascination of aircraft, mighty birds in the sky.
At RAF Coningsby, the B1192 road I took to my customer in Wragby, passed the end of the runway, and there was a convenient lay-bye, where I could stop and watch the fast jets, Phantoms, take off, looking directly up into their jet exhaust and afterburners. (click to see map).
At RAF Waddington on the A607 road from Grantham to the City of Lincoln, the massive Vulcan bombers of the RAF “V” Force, stood ready to launch at minutes notice on their dispersal pads near the end of the runways, ready to retaliate against Soviet Block targets with nuclear weapons should NATO be attacked. (click to see map).
At RAF Wyton on the A141 near Warboys, English Electric Cambera’s, RAF reconnaissance planes flew low over the road as they came into land. (click to see map).
At RAF Wittering, the V/STOL Harrier Jump Jets, would fly over the A1 road. (click to see map).
At RAF Alcanbury, further south on the A1 road, USAF U-2 spy planes, with their albatross length wings glided in to a now closed airfield. (click to see map).
So many more airfields I would pass, fascinated by the power and beauty of the aircraft.
My love for knowledge of aircraft has stayed with me all these years, and reading, researching books, visiting museums on aircraft, gives me great joy and happiness, although my interest does not or has not become an obsession. As I discover more in my research, I need to fill in the blanks, find out more about information presented to me.
It is now I appreciate the art of reading, PhotoReading, allowing me to absorb so much information quickly, and when reading normally after PhotoReading the book to get specific information, getting so much more enjoyment.
Reading fictional books like Biggles, a pilot flying mid world war planes, solving problems and having boyhood fascination capturing adventures.
Living in Kingston upon Thames, the home of the Hawker Hurricane, led me to read about the history of the iconic aircraft, and visiting museums, the Imperial War museum at RAF Duxford, the old airfield and race track at Brooklands, the Royal Naval Fleet Air Arm Museum, RAF Uxbridge and the RAF Museum in Hendon.
As I read, one piece of information has led me to another, to another, to the book Phoenix Squadron by Rowland White, which I wrote about in my blog a few days ago. Then my cousin Glynis, read my blog and suggested that I read Rowland White’s other book, Vulcan 607, as her husband Dave had been involved with them, and my mind went back to those early days as I passed RAF Waddington, with those big jets, the Vulcan’s, just waiting to reach for the skies.
I had to buy the book.
Author: nlpnow
Categories
It is a small world
Whilst having my birthday breakfast with my good friend Jill Lawday begin_of_the_skype_highlighting end_of_the_skype_highlighting in Kingston’s Frank B’s Diner, we were served by a very happy and pleasant person, Kapila Amarasinghe.
Phillip Holt and Kapila Amarasinghe in Frank B’s Diner
He had time to make sure that he took our order correctly, to make us feel at home and at ease.
Obviously not from the UK, I asked where did he originate from, and he said Colombo in Sri Lanka.
I have spent many days giving training in Sri Lanka on many visits, especially staying in the very old Swimming Club of Colombo, and in the next few weeks I hope to return.
I told Kapila my association with Sri Lanka, and what a wonderful place I had found it, but not what I actually did there.
The time came when Jill and I had finished our breakfast, and it was time to leave, so I went to the till.
Kapila, again being very friendly wished me well, then mentioned that he had been involved with the Sri Lanka tennis team, along with Maxwell de Silva.
“What? Where did that name come from? Why did he name Maxwell de Silva?“. Questions raced through my mind.
I was in shock.
Maxwell de Silva and I have worked together for a number of years, being co-directors of a company we formed, NLPNOW-Lanka, to provide training in Sri Lanka.
I never mentioned what I did in Sri Lanka, or my associations with people there, and yet Kapila and I had a common friend.
Here I am in the UK, and Maxwell in Sri Lanka, and suddenly, there is a direct link between us.
It’s a small world, you will never know who you may bump into on your travels.
Categories
A Big Thank You
I hope I have said thank you for wishing me a Happy Birthday, but is good just to say “Thank You” for no reason, just perhaps for being a friend, just perhaps just being there, just perhaps just knowing you.
Today I have to say thank you to my very good friend Jill Lawday, a fellow trainer whom I have known for many years.
She had been in town, my town of Kingston upon Thames, and we spent some time together, talking about old times, the future, having a meal, me being a tour guide, and it was Jill’s idea that we should have breakfast at Frank B’s Diner in the Bentall Center of Kingston as a birthday treat.
Jill Lawday and Phillip Holt
Birthday Breakfast in Frank B’s Diner
Thank you Jill, it was great, even though I needed a nap when I got home.
Oh Jill, watch the video I took off Kingston upon Thames, by clicking here Relax with views from the Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames.
Enjoy.
So did all the telephone calls I have had in the last two days come from telepathy? Did I send out a plea by telepathy to buy some services, or did the callers have some other means of obtaining my telephone number?
Having read many books on the psychic world, been on many courses to do with the human mind and human psychology, watched many people at work, studied many more, had many strange experiences, demonstrated certain powers, I have an open mind if there are psychic happenings.
For my telephone calls I received, the call centers must have a good search engine which looks at any entries made on the internet referencing certain criteria which they then can exploit, so no telepathy this time.
But are there psychic happenings?
I sometimes with the participants on my courses demonstrate mind reading, and not me doing the mind reading but the participants.
I have been with special people who are accredited with having certain psychic powers like Joe McMoneagle of the Us Army Stargate Project, and Remote Viewing, and mentioned in the book The Men Who Stare at Goats. I have been with and learned from Seka Nikolic a bio-energy healer, and many more.
Then, why on my day out in Exeter I was drawn into a bookstore just to get something to read on my long train journey home, out of all the books in there I picked up The Psychic Tourist by William Little.
In this well researched and written book, William Little sets out to discover the truth of whether there is proof of the existence of psychic powers, fortune tellers, mind-reading, after he gave his sister a birth chart by an astrologer, which changed the beliefs of his sister and niece thinking they would die in water.
His journey takes him into a dark haunted wood with a witches’ coven, having a fresh understanding of the thoughts of Richard Dawkins, talking to psychics such as Sylvia Brown and Sally Morgan, the psychological showman, hypnotist and magician Darren Brown, and the psychic spy Joe McMoneagle. He visits Dean Radin at the Noetic Institute of Sciences in Petaluma, California, looking into quantum physics and entanglement theory, plus many more well know psychics, all in his quest to discover if psychic powers can be proven.
He comes to a conclusion which he tries to sell to his sister. But is psychic behaviour and belief in every human being?
Perhaps we should be as he found, after interviewing Richard Dawkins, open minded, even in the light of evidence to the contrary.
Categories
A reply to my unwanted telephone calls
Yes, you are correct asking in your comment “why is the TPS not working?“, the possible reason is that the “cold” unwanted calls are being made from outside the UK.
Yes they are monitoring the internet, I know of organisations that other companies employ to search all the media, TV, radio, newspapers, courts, the internet, just to get information. It could be just to know what people are saying about their product or company, or like the companies who have been telephoning me, to make sales.
I have heard that there are people waiting in hospital emergency centers, waiting for accident victims to be carried in, and they sign them up saying that they will take the other party involved in the accident to court to get compensation on a “no win, no fee” basis.
Some of these companies even listen in on radio traffic of the emergency services, just to get to the victims before any one else so the victim can sue for damages.
TAKE IT EASY? ME?
I see it as a game, to have fun with the callers.
In my article Did I upset you? Unwanted telephone calls. I mention the fact that I said I wanted a conservatory, but when I said I was on the 2nd floor, the caller got upset for wasting their time.
Another example was when I lived on a boat, a rather large boat, a Dickens Class named Mr Toots, I had a call from a replacement window company who had been continually calling for days offering to replace the windows, so I went along with their conversation,
“Yes it would be good to reduce the heat loss and save money,”
“Yes it would be good lessen the noise, especially as the boat was moored under the flight path of Heathrow Airport.“
The call center just did not ask the right questions, they presupposed that I lived in a house, not a boat with small round portholes made of brass.
When the salesman turned up, he was very abusive to me for wasting his time, even giving threats to sue me in court for his lost time and income, until I said I would counter to sue his company for wasting my time.
Mr Toots, a boat I live on in Brentford, London for 6 years
As a small boy, I remember my father answering the door to a “door-to-door” salesman selling cleaning products and vacuum cleaners.
My father let the salesman make his sales pitch on all the virtues of his company’s’ vacuum cleaner, and when the salesman went for the kill, to close the sale, my father said he already had a better one, that offered even more things, and was cheaper to run.
The salesman was taken aback, and started arguing with my father, saying that was impossible as his product was first on the market, and no other company had anything else like it, and he demanded to see the cleaner.
At this point my father called my mother to the front door, and said
“Here is my cleaner, and it cleans, irons, cooks and keeps me warm at night.“
Like father, like son.
Categories
I don’t believe it
It has only been an hour since posting Timeshare Advisory Service a Scam , and the telephone rings.
Yes you have guessed it, “Mr Phillip?“, in and Indian accent, and a small time delay.
It is hard for me to understand him as I curtly reply “What do you want?“.
He purports (indicates) to be from the Telephone Preference Service, (UK 0800398893) and he started telling me how “cold calls”, wanted calls, would be stopped.
But I was already registered with the free Telephone Preference Service, and I told him that, but he was having non of me butting in, interrupting him, saying that by registering with him I would be protected for five years.
“I am already registered with you.” I said, thinking I was speaking to the TPS.
He would not listen, until I asked him what are the fees.
“Just a £1 a week.” was his reply, “and then you will stop getting calls like this.“
“Get lost.” was my reply as I cut the call.
I just don’t believe it.
The Telephone Preference Service is a free service, so if anyone in the UK wants to use it go the their web site http://www.tpsonline.org.uk/tps/ and register for free. Do not fall for the webs sites when using the search engines that look as if they are the TPS and charge a fee. All they are doing is taking your money, then adding your name and telephone number to the free Telephone Preference Service.
As someone commented, I am “p—-d off”, or not very happy.
I am continually getting telephone calls from people wanting to sell me a new mobile phone, sort out my debt problems which I do not have, and buy my timeshare holiday week, even though I have used a service in the UK called The National Do-Not-Call List, or the Call Prevention Registry, which should prevent such calls or organisations making unwanted “cold” telephone calls to me.
As soon as I hear a foreign accent, sorry to say from the Indian sub continent, and they ask for “Mrs Mee Holt“, the hairs on my neck go up, I know that they will be trying to sell me something I do not want. She never uses the shortened name “Mee” from her name Mee Len.
“No you can’t. She does not live here any more.“, will only make them say, “Is that Mr Holt?“
Just thinking about it makes me mad, but then I expect they can get around UK laws by calling from outside the UK.
I apologise to those working in the call centers making these calls, I know I am rude to you and I cut you off. Sorry, I know you have a job to do and want to make money, earn a living, but I do not want to speak to you.
I also sometimes get telephone calls from people who want to buy the timeshare week. I wrote about one company Alpha Group Resales who sounded very convincing in their sales patter or talk. (see article).
They give a reference of the Timeshare Advisory Service and a telephone number. I wonder if when the number is called, it ends up in the same office as Alpha Group Resales or whatever name they are operating under now.
I still notice after a number of years, people are landing on my web site article after searching on Timeshare Advisory Service in a search engine, so the scam still seems to being used.
To operate this scam, taking a large sum of money at the outset by credit card, to register the sellers name and cover administration costs, the seller enters into a contract which contains a clause saying that if the seller ends or cancels the contract, the initial sum will be forfeited. Obviously, there are no buyers for the timeshare, and thus the buyer cancels the contract or arrangement with the company operating the scam, and looses their initial deposit.
I cannot understand how these people can sleep at night, knowing that the next day they are going to sell something to people that they do not want it, advertising space, search engine placement, listings in telephone books and directories, a name of a potential buyer who does not exist.
The credit card companies know that these scams exist, they must get hundreds of calls of complaints, yet they continue to let these companies trade and take money off unsuspecting people.
The banks must know about the scam emails, which promise untold wealth from a person who died in a plane crash, or from a military person who found a box of millions of dollars in the middle of the desert whilst fighting in Iraq and wants to share it. Why don’t they stop the unsuspecting public transferring money abroad to these people?
Worldwide government agencies know about these scams, why don’t they do something to stop it?
Oh Poo Poo, am I sounding like a grumpy old man?
Life is so hard and unfair.
Now read I don’t believe it
Categories
Beauty is only Skin Deep
Was today a waste of time?
For some time now, I had been asked to attend an exhibition at London’s ExCel Exhibition and Conference Center, and I could not make my mind up if the subject matter was appropriate for me.
In the end, I decided to go to Professional Beauty London, which is, quote, “the ideal place to meet therapists, nail technicians, hairdressing and beauty salon owners, tanning salons and freelance / mobile therapists looking to source new suppliers and benefit from great deals”.
Well I do therapy, so why not, I may learn something, and it was a chance to be with a colleague.
I should have known it was not for me as soon as I got on the DLR train, it was full of excited young girls, obviously from a college going to the exhibition. But, I had come this far, being delayed by slow trains and cold, I may as well continue, and anyway I had made arrangements to meet someone there.
As soon as I got inside the hall, my suspicions were confirmed, this was not for me, but I did stay long enough to fight my way around the crowded aisles, of eager young girls, some in their health and beauty uniforms, their name badges hanging around their necks, craning to see the latest hair extension stand, the many nail specialists, the waxing treatments, the spray bronzing equipment, and other painful looking treatments on show.
At 95 (ho ho, I am not really 95) years of age, I do not think makeup will help me become more attractive or look any younger. I did not see any hair extensions in gray, and I have enough hair on my head to keep me warm, so I do not need a wig. My nails would look rather strange with flowers or birds painted on the, and I do not like pain so I am happy with having hair on my legs and my other private parts, and would not like waxing.
My friend was totally absorbed by the experience and enjoying every minute, but all I could think of was each hair being pulled off my leg, oh the agony.
I made my excuses and left, leaving those others behind, buying, learning, absorbing information relative to them, and perhaps some of those attending could pick-up some tips on becoming beautiful, because they needed help in their make-up application.
Me I am happy on my journey, how I look, and what has been given to me, as people can take me as I am, and yes I did see some well made-up females, in English we say that they “looked the bees knees“, looked really great.
But then I thought, I wonder what they are really like, what is their personality like, would I get on with such a person?
How would they compare to the little tubby girl next to her, with no make-up, spots on the face, hair askew, and with hairy legs?
Um, beauty is only skin deep.
The exhibition was the same, on the surface and on paper it looked good, but when I got involved, it was not for me. For others it was the greatest adventure they had taken, it was for them.
Sometimes we take a road that keeps promising us the world, happiness, security, wealth, and we get taken in by promises and hold on with expectation, but we eventually find that road is not for us, no matter how it is made-up to look good, and then we have to change direction. If not, it will lead to heartbreak and unhappiness, be it a job, a relationship, a holiday or an exhibition.
I am happy on my journey, doing what I do, who I am and how I look. But that is my Cat on the Mat, my view of the world, and in my world I am warm and cuddly.
Categories
Phoenix Squadron, HMS Ark Royal
I have lived through many interesting times which have gone down in history, and it is only now, having time and the knowledge and ability of PhotoReading, (to absorb 20,000 – 30,000 WPM), that I can research and read so much more, to give me more insight into what has happened from the many books which continually get published to appear on book shelves.
A book is only as good as the author, and contains only what he or she wishes to write. So, I always try to stand back, to try and understand what is the author trying to tell me, what have they included in the book and what have they left out.
My fascination for aircraft, fast jets, fighter aircraft, airliners is ever strong, from the Hawker Hurricane of WWII, the Airbus A380 to Concorde, the one aircraft I wanted to fly but never made.
One book recently caught my eye, something I advise participants on my PhotoReading courses never to allow to happen. The picture on the dust cover of the hardback book Phoenix Squadron by Rowland White, showed two iconic fighter jets, the Blackburn Buccaneer, with HMS Arc Royal in the background.
In the bookshop, I quickly Previewed the book, and had the feeling that this book could help me understand more about the crisis between Britain and the South American country Guatemala, over one of the British Empire’s last territories British Honduras, soon to become the independent country Belize. (see map of Belize – click).
The book tells how the Guatemala President, Colonel Arana Osorio, and his powerful military leaders, saw British Honduras as part of their country, and how neighbouring countries also saw either the little territory as useful to them as a means of expansion, or as an opportunity to assert influence as I seem to understand the USA was trying to do.
It was understood that the military wanted to invade British Honduras as the British were moving away from “owning” countries, by giving independence to nations, to their own people, and it was the wishes of the British Hondurans that they had their independence, and not become part of Guatemala.
The British had a very small military presence in British Honduras, no aircraft, no ships, just a few solders, but news of an impending invasion, a build-up of military strength by Guatemala, summoned to last aircraft carrier in the British Navel Fleet, Ark Royal with it’s onboard aircraft the F-4 Phantoms and the Blackburn Buccaneers, to race over 2,000 miles across the Atlantic, to show the strength of the British military, and head off any plans Guatemala had.
The book itself gave a good account of the crisis from the British point of view, perhaps one day I can find a book written on the subject by an author from Guatemala to understand how they view their history of that time. It is well researched by other written material, newspaper and TV accounts, naval and government reports, and interviews with members of Arc Royal and the Royal Fleet Air Arm.
The book was at times difficult to read as it was full of acronyms or initialisms, for example, SPLOT, RAS, MADDL, CBALS, (hover pointer over to see meaning), which meant flow of reading was interrupted as I tried to workout and understand the meaning.
The first half of the book had little to do with the crisis and the part played by the Arc Royal and the Phoenix Squadron, but gave the background to the carrier and aircraft and their history. The author, Rowland White, built-up suspense, with stories of problems of the iconic and world beating Buccaneers taking off from the deck of Ark Royal, and I felt myself being let down when an accident did not happen, I was waiting for something to happen.
Personally I did not find it as “gripping as any Tom Clancy thriller“, as said on the cover by the BBC Top Gear presenter Jeremy Clarkson, but yes “riveting” because of my interest in that field of knowledge.
But now, should I research more to view things from others points of view, or move on to other learning?
Categories
Exeter, lifes journey
Feeling sorry for myself, having fulfilled my commitments for the day by 12 noon, I was at a loss for something to do with myself.
I know I am about to get a head cold, there is a strange sore feeling at the back of my nose, when that happens I know I will get a running nose, ending with my nasal tracts being stuffed up and blocked.
As I was a long walk from home, perhaps an hours walk which is good for me as it is exercise, my mind suddenly came up with an Idea. In the distance a fast train raced down the rail track to some far off destination, and I thought, why can’t I be on that train?
My mind raced through distant places, as my eyes caught a plane reaching for the sky having just taken off from Heathrow, Penang in Malaysia, Machu Picchu in Peru, Rome in Italy, Erzincan in Turkey, all places far far away, too far.
How about Brighton on the South Coast of England, Bognor Regis another seaside town on the South Coast? I love the seaside.
Then I had a Eureka moment, Exeter in Devon.
Exeter is a town I had never been to, but heard about. My school friend from many years ago, Ronald Rose, used to go on holiday there, and back at school would not stop talking about it. My mind was made up, Exeter here I come.
My local train service, South West Trains, had a train that went there. I would see the City of Exeter I had wondered about for all these years, and as a sea port, be able to see the sea.
By 12:20 midday, with a sandwich, with fillings I had never heard of, and orange drink in hand I joined the train, and soon we were racing through the countryside, visiting railway stations, picking-up and dropping-off passengers, my mind fantasizing what I might see at the other end of the line, nearly four hours away.
At Salisbury, the nine carriage train parted, the first six carriages of to Exeter, the last three off to Bristol. Although I knew I was sitting in the correct part of the dividing train, a slight panic raced through my mind, “was I on the correct train?“.
The speed of the train now reduced as we stopped at more frequent stations, some with platforms too small, so only the first three carriages of the six was actually in the station.
At one station we were held for five minutes. Why?
The rails was single track, with only limited places where trains could pass, so there could be only one train at a time on the track, one up train and one down train.
This did not bode well, small stations, single rail track, we must be leaving the hustle and bustle of suburbia, of London.
Eventually arriving in Exeter Central Station, one stop before the end of the line, I searched the city center map on the wall.
“Where’s the sea?“
No where to be seen, so I headed to the city center, from there I must find the sea.
With seagulls squawking overhead, that must be a good sign surely, I headed down a steep hill, leading to a valley which I reasoned must contain a river which will lead me to the sea, and sure enough, there was the river, but no sign of the sea.
Nearby, was an old ruin, was it an old church, or a castle, or just an old warehouse? Some one was working on the stones, obviously an archaeologist, but I could see no information to help me.
There were direction signs which pointed to the City Center from where I had just come, and another to the Quay, a six minute walk.
Now that is the direction for me to go.
I walked by the side of the River Exe, slow flowing and not very wide, sitting in a valley.
I followed the flow of the river to the Quay, which was now a collection of cafés and handicraft workshops and only four or five at that.
There were no ships in the port, and as I read the information plaque outside the public toilets, I found out that it had begun to close in about 1840 due to that single track rail track built by Brunel I had just traveled on, which could take the wool exports away quicker. The port continued into the 20th Century, but declined rapidly, eventually closing to only the pleasure boats, and not many of those either.
The old warehouses, as in many old ports of the UK, have been converted to offices, apartments and restaurants.
Still no sea.
Exeter Quay
Another information plaque in the small harbour showed a map, and I was about eight miles or twelve kilometers from the sea, connected not solely by the River Exe, but a canal built two hundred years ago, to bring the trade ships to the quay.
By this time, it was too late to visit the sea, even if there was a pathway for me to follow.
I returned to the city center, noticing how small Exeter was as it rose up from the River Exe’s valley.
I visited the Cathedral, St. Peters, an imposing building, but it was getting late, I was getting cold, my nose now running even more, and I contemplated the four hour train journey home.
St. Peter’s Exeter Cathedral
Thankfully, I passed a book shop selling books at a cut price. That is my answer, a good book to read on the way home.
With another sandwich, with again only understanding the ingredients cheese, the rest I had no idea of, plus an orange drink, I boarded the London bound train.
Totally absorbed in my book, the journey fled past.
I had built up in my mind a day out to remember. I had in my mind something out of this world, total satisfaction, wonderment, a fantasy of Exeter started in my school days by Ronald Rose.
I was disappointed, it was not what I expected.
Life is so cruel to me. Oh Poo Poo.
But hang on, yes life is like that. We build something up to something beyond what will happen, what is there and available and we go for it, only to find that our expectations may not be fulfilled.
Yes, sometimes our experiences far outreach our expectations.
I actually had a great time.
I had forgotten about my running nose, my head cold. I had learned some more things about Exeter. I had relaxed for once. I had read a book and learned something from that.
I had made the journey I had watched others had done and made the sames journey myself and can now relate it to you reading it here.
Life is a journey, sometimes it is not what we want, sometimes it is more that we expect, but we should take the journey and be happy what we experience, for to be sure the track we take could be a fast or a single slow track, but it has a start and an end.
Enjoy.
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