Friday, July 29, 2011

 

Young drivers, your country needs you!


“Young drivers! Young British drivers! Young talented British drivers, your country needs you!”

With two recent F1 world champions, Lewis Hamilton and Jenson Button, I thought that there must be an abundance of young British driving talent, but it turns out that I’m wrong – in a sense.

You see, just as it is with car insurance, it seems that the cost of motor racing is proving a real impediment to young drivers in this country – few, if any, sports are as expensive as motor racing, and it seems that the vast majority of hopefuls just can’t afford it. As a result, a whole generation of talent is slipping through the net.

For example, only recently Skoda UK looked to recruit a driver for its 2011 Intercontinental Rally Challenge but had to overlook all British candidates on the basis that they simply didn’t have the experience.

And why didn’t they have the experience? Well, because they don’t have the money. In today’s world or motor sport, unless you have the private funding to boost your career, you’re unlikely to get a place on the starting grid.

“Young drivers! Young British drivers! Young talented British drivers! Young talented rich British drivers, your country needs you!”

Photo by Dmitry Sumin via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Monday, July 25, 2011

 

One-legged South African driver


Some disabled people have their vehicle modified so that they can still get out and about on the highways.

Not so for one driver in South Africa.

He had to have his left leg amputated after suffering a gun shot wound in 1996, but, instead of having his vehicle adapted, he sat his 11-year-old son next to him and told him when to press the clutch peddle.

He was stopped by a chief traffic inspector – who naturally was horrified – and was even more perturbed when she found that the 39-year-old amputee only possessed an expired learner driver’s permit suitable for use in an automatic car.

The man was fined 1,000 rand, which is the equivalent of £90.

Let’s hope he doesn’t do it again.

Photo © arboresce via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Thursday, July 21, 2011

 

Cat-nav research


When confronted with the abbreviation ‘GPS’ (Global Positioning System), you probably think of your sat-nav.


However, one study undertaken by researchers at the University of Reading which began in 2009, uses GPS for an entirely different reason.

To track cats.

Why, you may ask? Well they want to find out how badly our domestic felines are affecting urban birds by monitoring how far a field they travel from home to hunt, amongst other factors.

At the beginning of the study they recruited 200 cats around the Reading, who all happily signed on with a paw print (probably), and attached a little camera and tracking devise to each of their collars.

Now, after several years of going about their mysterious business, the cats’ secrets have been revealed and the study has come to a close.

The team in Reading haven’t yet updated their website with the findings, but suffice to say the cats are likely to be interested to see just how much the humans have managed to deduce from their movements.

Image by eva101 via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Monday, July 18, 2011

 

Wheelie embarrassing


If you pulled out of your driveway or away from the roadside and one of your car’s wheels just fell off, it would be a bit embarrassing wouldn’t it?

We’d certainly look around and hope no-one saw.

Now imagine how embarrassed Jenson Button must have been at the British Grand Prix in front of a more than 120,000-strong crowd at Silverstone this year when, just a few metres out of the pit-stop, his front right wheel came loose.

As it happens, this was due to a simple human error by a member of the pit-stop crew, but it unfortunately meant that the Formula One driver was unable to finish the race and that McLaren was fined £4,433 from FIA for its unsafe pit-stop release.

Reportedly Button was initially irate at the slip-up, but after calming down he said, "We all make mistakes, and you always hope they won't happen, but this is even more disappointing as it's in front of my home crowd."

Well, if Jenson Button feels bad, we can’t imagine how the mechanic feels right now!

Photo by amika_san via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Friday, July 15, 2011

 

The satellites which keep global order


It takes an eight-man team and a further 5,000 civilian employees to keep these objects 12,500 miles above Earth on course, while they travel at 4.5 miles a second, and “on a bad day there isn’t even time to go to the bathroom”.


What are we talking about? The GPS satellites, run by 2d Space Operations Squadron in America, which stop planes colliding with one another, keep ships on course, save the world from chaos – oh, and keep your sat-nav on track.

We don’t give a second thought to the fantastically clever little box on our dashboard – which guides us through the UK roads only occasionally telling us that we’re actually ploughing through buildings or driving in the sea – but we should.

It’s almost a miracle that the system works at all, and some of us would be very lost without it.

Maybe from now on, instead of shouting at it when it goes wrong we should take a deep breath and wait until our hard working GPS take a moment to sort itself out, it’s the least it deserves.

Photo by Lee Jordan via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Monday, July 11, 2011

 

Vanilli comeback, you know it’s true. But did anyone miss you?


Does the day on which you are born hold augurs for what your future will hold? I for one certainly hope not.

Which cataclysmic event did I soundtrack my first infant cries? With what peeling of bells from on high did the world celebrate my arrival?

The answer: none, and none.

You see, unlike my dad, who, as he likes to tell practically everyone he meets, was born into the exultant peace of 1945’s VE Day celebrations, I was born on an entirely inauspicious day, November 15, 1990.

Instead, I, beetroot-red and stunned by the light of the outside world, lip-synced to the indignant howls of the world’s music press at the news of the fraud of Milli Vanilli.

Yes, Milli Vanilli, the erstwhile Grammy-winning pop duo who, it emerged on the day of my birth, had never between them sung a note in earnest.

Outed as lip-syncing frauds, they want on to endure notoriety and eventually, in a tragic twist, the suicide of Milli.

But, in a new twist that must in some way be entwined with my fate it has been announced that Vanilli, now solo, has been working on a comeback album.

But what can it mean? What can it augur? My hope is that, with my car insurance due for renewal on the day of my birthday, I’m going to get a nice retro 1990-style quote.

Image © Alan Light via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Friday, July 8, 2011

 

The summer of our discount tent


As one of the thousands of young drivers who converged on Glastonbury for this summer’s music and mud-fest, like the rest, the first thing I did was unpack my tent from the boot of my car.

Unfortunately, I’m ashamed to say, I spent rather longer on the next stage: erecting the tent.

As someone who always tends to be flummoxed by this infuriating real-world, 3D IQ test, this was not unusual. However, this time I felt that I might be able to do it. After all, I’d received detailed advance instruction from my father, including a demonstration (which I videoed on my phone, naturally) and detailed diagrammatic instructions (perhaps a little too detailed, in fact).

Mercifully, on seeing my futile struggles with the said tent, a fellow festival-goer, a bare-chested and ultra capable Spaniard, decided to assist – hooray the Glastonbury spirit! Even if it was slightly emasculating for me to be shown up as manually ineffectual in front of my girlfriend.

At the end of my two-night stay, I then faced a second challenge: deconstructing and packing the tent.

After a good two hours of flailing, struggling and fruitless, desperate praying for the second coming of the bare-chested Spaniard, I gave up and stuffed the thing into the rear-seat of my Vauxhall.

Even so, I’m glad that I didn’t resort to doing what many other young festival-goers seemed to do: leave the tent onsite.

Organisers report that tens of thousands of tents were left behind by apparently unconcerned music lovers who considered them cheap enough to be disposable.

A whole wasteland of tents now destined for landfill – waste and profligacy: not two things I considered to be part of the Glastonbury spirit.

Image © FDWR via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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Friday, July 1, 2011

 

Blueprints for the man with the Midas touch


There are probably only a handful of cars which are so famous that they are almost globally recognised – but one of them surely must be the Aston Martin DB5 as driven by James Bond himself.

This sleek vehicle drove into the spotlight after being used in the film Goldfinger in 1964. Since then it’s been held dear in the nation’s heart, and now seven authorised blueprint copies of the legendary car have been sold at auction.

The sale took place this week – but no details of who purchased the technical drawings, including meticulous sketches of the car’s gadgets, have yet come to light.

We don’t even know if all of the copies were bought by one person, or if a number of individuals got a share of the James Bond riches.

While the original blueprints are kept under lock and key by the film producers EON Productions, any 007 or Aston Martin fanatic would be very pleased to acquire the copies.

Maybe the proud owners, or owner, will be in the media spotlight soon to express their happiness at having a piece of British history for their own. Then we’ll know who to be envious of.

Image by aldenjewell via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence

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