A View From The Grey Ridge – A Waste of Time…..Travel.

Have you ever wondered why there is always one person in a bar sitting alone in the corner with a computer? I can’t think of any reason.
Except for one.
You might remember from my last piece, but more than likely not, that trying to reset time using Wikipedia is not always the best thing to do.
I found this out last Wednesday while writing my essay for this week with my trusty notebook and a standard Travis pen.
It some how struck me that maybe my pen was not named exactly as it should be. Again, to look it up online would be pointless because those who sit in pubs with computers tend to enjoy the act of putting misinformation on the aforementioned website.
The best way to get the correct details of anything is, of course, to pop down to your local, stand next to the oldest man at the bar and mention, not to him, but to your drinking companion (or my Butler in this case) that you are certain that what ever you are discussing is the definite answer to the question posed.
So, after ordering my pint and a soft drink for Belchart (he is driving after all) I, at the correct volume, said that I had always thought these plastic, see-through, ball point pens had a different name.
And so it began.
After agreeing with the old man that, indeed, we were the “biggest Gob-shites on the planet”, he went on to talk about a man called Biro from Hungary in the 1800s who had always said that he was the inventor but some how history had forgotten and the best way to chat up any supermodel that might happen in to the bar is to tell her that she‘s not the best looking young wan to come in here but she‘ll do. Mine’s a Guinness.
We were off.
The trouble now was to track down this Mr Biro. Fair enough, we could go back and get him his place in history but how do we find him in such a big city?
Belchart was straight on to it.
“We could look him up in the phone book.”
A great solution but, as you’ve spotted, the phone was a new invention back then.
There was only one thing for it. Belchart had to invent the phone in the 1700s. I get the address in the 1800s when, by then every house would have one, and we reset the whole thing leaving us with a correct timeline and the whereabouts of Biro.
There you have it. Problem solved.
So now, as I sit here finishing off my story with my trusty notebook and my Biro (briefly popping back and hour beforehand to switch on the heating so it would be toasty when I got in) I can’t help asking you to seek out and stop those who bring a computer into bars and sit on their own for they are the ones who really change history.
Until next time.


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