Posted on | April 30, 2012 | No Comments
While strolling the other day in Hove I met one resident who introduced me to a neighbour who, it turned out, works at Glyndebourne. At first our talk turned to the wind turbine recently installed up there, to some controversy. She pointed out that it had previously been the site of a mill, and confirmed the news from another friend’s son that it produces 115% electricity.
Somehow, our talk turned from that to lifting weights – in the general sense rather than any misplaced exertion in a gym. She said that, up at Glyndebourne, an expert had come along to tell them the knack of lifting heavy objects. This is partly a matter of holding one’s arms straight out and having somebody push them downwards (or simulate that force oneself); such an action means that the arms become more easy in their sockets, hence better placed to pick up the object for which one then bends the knees to retrieve and rise again.
Be that as it may, she continued by saying that she had been in a supermarket queue. Ahead there had been somebody struggling with a number of bags, and so she offered to demonstrate this way of lifting objects, for which the customer had been grateful. Now you might expect the queue to be vexed by such a display, dark mutterings and staring at watches. On the contrary: they all wanted to be shown how to do this. As for the check-out operator, she did not object but came from behind her desk to be shown how to do this. At which point, the security man on the other side of the store had seen apparent chaos on his screens – and sent somebody across to remedy the situation: lo and behold, this agent joined those eager for such guidance.
You simply never know what you might hear when strolling through Hove.