Taking photos in Parramatta

Just a heads up to those who consider taking a few photos of the fancy water feature on Parramatta's all-new Centenary Square (aka Church Street Mall):

If there's just one kid, fully dressed, frolicking among the water fountains (say, to cool off on a hot day), some over-protective asshole will call the cops, the boys in blue will come down on you like a ton of bricks, they will take your details, and they will bully you into deleting all the photos you have taken.

To keep all the hysteric, super-PC, hyper-concerned douchebags happy, here's a nighttime photo of said water feature. No kids anywhere, and a shutter speed of 2 minutes has made sure no moving objects, such as persons, remain visible.

Bob's Barbershop

Bob is what you might call an old school barber. He has been in the business for 52 years, starting as an apprentice, then getting his license (back then, you needed one), before taking over the business and buying all the equipment for the grand sum of $ 40.

There's no big menu of options to choose from; Bob's range of services consists of precisely 2 (two) products: Haircut and beard trim. And you won't be charged extra to have your hair cut by the "Senior Art Director"; once you're sitting in that single, 100-year-old barber chair, it is always Bob The Barber who gets to work, because, well, there is just him. And when he's done, that antique cash register will take your money (the whole $ 14.50) even during a power blackout.

In 1980, Bob moved his business in Parramatta from Church Street to Victoria Road, opposite Prince Alfred Park. There, he has been the last shop still operating for at least 5 years now.

At the end of June, Bob will close his door for the last time; the block of shops is due to be demolished so that McDonalds, who owns the site and the building, can extend their car park. This development has brought Bob to the attention of the local newspaper, and even the TV news found room for a brief segment on this classic, local business.

Fortunately, things have changed slightly since these news items were produced; as it turns out, Bob is not retiring, at least not completely. Instead, Bob is moving his business to 321 Concord Road, Concord West, where he will set up shop in / near his wife's antiques store.

Meanwhile, I've decided to immortalize Bob's old place with a couple of photos before the bulldozers show up:

What to do

A couple of weeks ago, my DVR went from highly unreliable to completely useless, but miraculously came back to life after some serious pretend-repairing and looking at it very sternly.

Now, the unit's remote control has followed the recorder's example and, after a few days of constantly deteriorating performance, is now refusing to work at all. No amount of feeding it posh top-brand batteries with fancy words like performance and extreme in the name, gently stroking the buttons, creating an intimate atmosphere by holding the bloody thing really close to the recorder, or waving a stick at it while shouting "Remotus Reparo" seems to coax it back to life.

To make matters worse, the recorder itself features only the most basic set of controls. There's the Power button, a pair of buttons to change the TV channels (up / down), and volume control. That's it. So, without a working remote, it's possible to watch live TV via the recorder, but setting up new recordings, or accessing any of the recorded content, is out of the question.

So, there's the option to buy a new remote control. That's AUD 50 (or thereabouts) on an accessory for a fairly old-ish DVR that, while it's essentially working again, hasn't been quite the same since that near death experience (channel changes take about 4 times as much time as they did originally, and a few channels can no longer be recorded properly), and may die for good any day.

Or I take the hint and spend money on a brand new recorder, probably from a more reliable manufacturer, consigning ye olde Topfield to the council's next available bulk garbage collection, all because of that pesky remote.

What to do, what to do … I'm open to suggestions.

Fixing a Topfield PVR

How to fix the Topfield TF7100HDPVRt – sort of.

According to the internet, this Topfield model is prone to malfunctions, and my unit is no exception. Granted, it was working mostly fine for a couple of years, with only the occasional glitch stuffing up a recording or so. But lately, things started to come apart hard and fast, with symptoms ranging from random freezing or re-booting during live TV, recording, or playing back recorded programs to hanging (and freezing) during the start-up process.

The same internet that assures me that these are common issues with this model also informs me that there's no reliable cure; and worse, no Topfield customer service that deserves to be called that, at least not in Australia.

With my machine, it started with the occasional crash, escalated to frequent refusal to start up at all, and eventually got to the point where the machine wouldn't boot, ever, without exception.

Considering that things couldn't possibly get any worse, I had the brilliant idea of "having a look at it" myself. Granted, I'm hopeless with mechanical stuff (of which a PVR has none, unless you count the read/write head of the hard drive, or the control buttons on the front panel), and even worse with electronic components. But no matter; perhaps it's as simple as dust buildup interfering with the delicate interiors; after all, the casing is littered with holes (presumably to prevent the thing from overheating).

Anyway, with all that in mind, I got to work:

1) Remove power cord, unplug RF (aerial), HDMI cables, and anything else you might have connected.

2) Unscrew all screws (1 on each side, and heaps at the back)

3) Make sure there's no one else in the room with you. If you're as technically challenged as I am, you're likely to look like a tool, and there's no need for anyone to see that.

4) Slide off the case

5) Notice that the interior of the recorder, the motherboard, and all other components, are surprisingly clean and dust-free

6) Check the hard disk connector. No, it's absolutely firm; no wobbly plug, not a chance of a bad connection

7) Switch on your best I know what I'm doing look and stare at all the components.

8) Connect power cord (and plug it in, duh)

9) Press Power button

10) Observe display at front of unit

11) After a few breathless moments, the word run (which indicates that the machine is booting) disappears, and the name of the last used TV station appears

12) This indicates we've come further than we did in any recent attempts to start the machine. Leave the recorder on for a while, just to be sure

13) Press Power button to turn recorder off, wait for shutdown procedure to complete

14) Unplug power cord

15) Re-attach cover (it's a tight fit), screw all the screws back in

16) Connect recorder to RF outlet and TV

17) Connect, and plug in, power cord

18) Start up the recorder, closely observe boot progress

19) Enjoy your working Topfield recorder, record shows, and finally watch all the stuff you had recorded ages ago but haven't been able to watch yet.

Summary
Yes, it's slightly more complex than Turning it off and turning it on again, but not by much. How simply opening the bloody thing, looking at it very seriously, and closing it again actually resolved the issue may forever remain a mystery, but at least for now, it seems to have worked.


Inside the Topfield TF7100HDPVRT

Dodging the bullet

And people say places like the local public library are boring. There I am, browsing the DVD shelf; the elderly librarian is busy sorting returned items; and the second member of staff, a young, not entirely unpretty girl, is tapping away on her computer.

Cue middle-aged creepy guy, messed up hair, tracky dacks, the full program. He starts playing around with the catalog terminal, then directs his attention to the service desk:

Creepy guy: Hi

Hot library chick: Hi how are you? (she seems to know him)

Creepy guy: Good thanks. How have you been?

Hot library chick: Alright, thanks, it's been a quiet day.

Creepy guy: What do you do once you're finished here?

Hot library chick: Oh just spending time with hubby and the kids

Creepy guy: Ahh … sounds … nice
(pause)
Creepy guy: I … was going to ask you out. A movie or something like that.

Hot library chick: Ohh … right … sorry

Creepy guy (wanders off)

Older librarian lady gives Hot library chick the what was that all about? look

Hot library chick: WHAT? One day I will have a husbands and kids...


Nice one, baby. I must admit I find her just a little bit hotter now, after learning that she's a quick thinker. Perhaps I should have a go myself, just to find out what she'd come up with to shoot me down ...

Camouflage

Camouflage the jazz outfit of the Australian Army Band Sydney, playing at the local park:





Yes, this dude isn't wearing your standard Aussie uniform. Apparently he's joined the band temporarily as part of some kind of exchange program.

Dog on tuckerbox

Dog on Tuckerbox monument, near Gundagai

Nine Miles from Gundagai
by Jack Moses

I've done my share of shearing sheep,
Of droving and all that;
And bogged a bullock team as well,
On a Murrumbidgee flat.
I've seen the bullock stretch and strain
And blink his bleary eye,
And the dog sit on the tuckerbox
Nine miles from Gundagai.

I've been jilted, jarred and crossed in love,
And sand-bagged in the dark,
Till if a mountain fell on me,
I'd treat it as a lark.
It's when you've got your bullocks bogged,
That's the time you flog and cry,
And the dog sits on the tuckerbox
Nine miles from Gundagai.

We've all got our little troubles,
In life's hard, thorny way.
Some strike them in a motor car
And others in a dray.
But when your dog and bullocks strike,
It ain't no apple pie,
And the dog sat on the tuckerbox
Nine miles from Gundagai.

But that's all past and dead and gone,
And I've sold the team for meat,
And perhaps, some day where I was bogged,
There'll be an asphalt street,
The dog, ah! well he got a bait,
And thought he'd like to die,
So I buried him in the tuckerbox,
Nine miles from Gundagai.

Random question of the day

How come Magnum (1980), enjoying a high class sports car and having access to top of the range tech gizmos, always had to find a public phone, and was even forced to physically chase down the luxury car of his host to warn them of a bomb; while Charlie's Angels (1976) had cell phones even in rental cars?

Survival secured

Today, on two separate trips from my office to the main admin building (across the compound) and back, every single chick that crossed my path was up the duff.

It would seem that we're not on the road to extinction just yet.

Market

Weekly market on Saturday morning in Parramatta

Can't have a market without an ice cream truck


And then, there's coffee

What the ... CH?

Where might this guy have come from?

Chile?
Chad?
China?

You know you're getting old

... when, while flicking thru the radio channels, you come across something called The Geezer Greats Weekend, and find that they're playing a lot of your favorite songs.

I think I'll go and have my afternoon nap now.

Birds be gone

Women, don't despair – I don't intend to forsake you. No, it's the birds of the feathered kind that had outstayed their welcome quite a while ago; and now, it's finally Goodbye.

Of all the beautiful birds that call Australia home, our building had to be seized by the common pigeon, with all the, well, crappy consequences that come with these vermins.

Well, as of today, these more than unwelcome guests will have to find a new home. Early afternoon, a tradie showed up out of the blue, announcing that he was sent by strata management "to fix the bird problem".

And fixed it he has. Within less than half an hour, all of Columbo's window sills were made pigeon proof; and in the course of the afternoon, all other sills and ledges of the building received the same upgrade.

So, ladies, don't take it the wrong way when I say I'm looking forward to my first bird-free night.