Teaching to cycle or drive

I ride a bicycle.  In fact, I ride a bicycle quite a lot.  If you have read my other blog you will be aware that I ride my bicycle sometimes for long distances and on roads that are quite busy and sometimes have lots of scary traffic on them.  In addition, everybody in our household also rides a bicycle and we rather enjoy it.
Last weekend, we went shopping to Tesco in the car.  Not unremarkable, it happens most weekends.  And, in common with many weekends we got home and said "bugger, just look at all this stuff we forgot to buy".  Totally undeterred, I decided to link the idea of riding my bicycle with collecting the other stuff from Tesco.  My daughter, Victoria (aged 9) came with me on her very funky, recently acquired 1980s proper girls pink Raleigh 'racer'.  Being quite the demon cyclist, it seemed appropriate to give her a little coaching on going round roundabouts so I chose the one that leads on to Tesco at Quedgeley as it isn't terribly busy and the exit before ours is a bit blocked because of the traffic lights holding up the traffic.  We take the proper approved Highway Code route for the learner or nervous cyclist, round the outside, only to be cut up by a woman (yes, really, I'm not just being sexist) going nowhere into the stopped exit.  We took evasive action, there was no drama but I did suggest to the lady that she ought to look where she was going.  She retorted "You should be wearing a helmet".
Now, I do own a helmet.  It is 15 years old and immaculate.  I don't want to do the whole helmet argument here except to say that until that moment, I was firmly with the no to helmet legislation camp.  I have now learnt my lesson.  There I was thinking they were a pretty useless lump of polystyrene but no.  I have learnt the error of my ways.   This woman has taught me a valuable lesson.  They are - Harry Potter eat your heart out- a reverse invisibility cloak.  She couldn't see me without one.
This could have so many ramifications.  Imagine those times when you are stood at the bar for hours waiting to be served, you must be invisible - wear your cycle helmet, the bar staff will now see you no doubt.  Although the bouncers may see you first.

In other news, I am still learning to teach people to drive.  I have now had some 24 hours tuition with my instructor (and now Facebook friend) Dave.  Dave obviously isn't invisible.  He has a whole digital TV channel named after him.  The training is invaluable.  I need forty hours before I am allowed to apply for my trainee instructor licence and start teaching but without this excellent tuition I would be stuffed.  Dave is a good chap and an excellent tutor, we do have a similar sense of humour, possibly borne out of a common geekiness.  The training, make no bones about it, is hard work.   Don't think you could go to a training company, pay your fee and be an instructor, it just won't work.  I think I have forgotten or at least take more for granted about how to drive than I could have known before a couple of weeks ago. 
All this talk of invisibility puts me in mind of one of my instructing faux pas.  I will say "Be aware" or "mind out for" that pedestrian.  To Johnny learner one needs to be far more explicit "Be ready to slow, stop or change direction for the pedestrian in case they walk into the road"
My instructor goes to great lengths to point out that you can be 'aware' of aforementioned pedestrian as they bounce off your bonnet, the roof and land in a heap behind you.  Still, it's their own fault.  They should wear a helmet so we, the motorist, can see them.

Next time you are doing a three point turn or reversing into a parking space, try and pretend you are teaching someone that has never tried it before.  Still, hopefully, watch this space, we should be up and running soon enough so, if you're after some high quality driving instruction it shouldn't be long now.

It's a sign

Might I apologise to all my loyal readers that it has taken me so long to write the latest instalment of my blog.  I have had trouble with my creativeness.  I put this down to writer's block.  My brother suggests constipation.  From which, he may be inferring I am full of sh*t.

You may be aware that between my bicycle and driving, I am quite a regualar road user.   As such I have recently noticed a few signs on my travels that make you think, whether for good or for bad.

First thought is how useful are road signs really?  During my driving instructor lessons, to test my observance of the road, my instructor would, on occasion, ask what the last road sign we passed was.  The number of "dunno" and similar responses suggests that they are largely ignored.  So what would happen if we got rid of them all?  I'm not alone in thinking this.  Much research from such august organisations as the AA (that's Automobile Association not the one my brother ought to know) and RAC has suggested that we are bombarded with them.  Apart from that, it can ruin some of the scenery that we all gaze at while we are driving.  Then of course, there is the simple fact that we haven't really got a clue what they mean.  If they were that simple we wouldn't need the Highway code book of signs and have to be tested on them before being allowed to drive.

However, I want to concentrate on a couple of signs that I rather like.  

If you travel around rural Enland, you will, inevitably, see the sign "Please drive carefully through our village"..  Damn.  there I was planning on driving like a nutter at warp factor 3 and you've ruined my fun.  Now I have to be careful.  Sneaky little thing though.  Doesn't say what to be careful of.  Is it just the kids on their way to school walking in the middle of the road or do you have snipers ready to take out the stranger?  Then, at the end of the village you are met with the sister sign "Thank you for driving carefully".  Aah, how do you know I did?  Maybe I did drive like a nutter and left carnage in my wake.  Or maybe we were just lucky.  You'll never know....

Then there is the No Motor Vehicles sign.  You know the one, a motor bike above a car.   I still wish that sign meant no motorcycle stunts or Evel Knievel banned.

Have you driven through a ford?  I mean, of course water across the road not another car.  On the other side, there is often a sign that says 'Test your brakes'.  Wise counsel.  However, you may want to take a quick glance in your mirrors first.  You don't want to force the driver behind to test his.

I know it isn't a proper Highway Code recognised sign, but I would like to know what the purpose of the "Baby on Board" sign that people stick in the back of their car is.  I can only think of a couple of reasons.  Have you ever been driving behind a car and thought "I know, I'll just ram into the car in front for a laugh" then had your plan scuppered when you saw that they have a baby?  No, nor me.  But you never know.  The other possibility is that the gentleman of the car is desperate to prove that the tackle is all in working order.

Finally, I'm sure you're all thinking "What's going on with Russ learning to be a driving instructor".  Well, a couple of weeks ago, I met my new instructor.  A fine chap by the name of Dave and we had our first lesson. It's surprising just how much you take for granted, right from putting the seat belt on.  This is pretty much how my first mock lesson, how to adjust your seat went.  You'll get an idea of the level of maturity:
After getting Dave to adjust the seat forward and backward, we discuss the rake of the seat, or the angle of the back:
"Put your hand to the right of the seat, there is a large knob you turn to change the angle".
We move on to the adjustment of the head restraint (never, ever refer to it as a head rest):
"Press the knob on the side of the headrest and it goes up and down.  There's a couple of knobs in the car".

It's hard to take things too seriously.  Part two and three are coming up this week.  I'll let you know if we grow up in the meantime.

The results are in...

It's taken me ages to write this blog.  As my regular readers and friends will be aware, I didn't pass my first attempt at the driving instructor part two test.  On the first of March, I retook the test and passed.  Hurrah, cause for celebration and all that.

That's it.  That could be the end of the blog.  When you fail something it becomes a talking point.  What did you fail on?  When are you going to retake?  Most of the answers you could just record and replay.

Then there are the platitudes.  "I'm sure you'll do better next time", "Never mind, the best drivers pass second time", "Well, they've got their allocation they must have passed enough already".  All of course are a complete horses arse and have no basis in truth.  Still, that's the joy of a well aimed platitude, why let the truth get in the way of a good cliché?


But no.  I passed.  No questions, no platitudes, just celebration.  But that's not it.  After the test is over you sit in the car with the examiner who is now your best friend and he still insists on tearing you to shreds.  Although in my case, he probably has a point.  You may remember (or know) that to pass the instructor part two there is a maximum of six minor faults.  failed test, I had seven (d'oh), passed test, wait for it.... SIX.  So he tears me to shreds, or rather, gives me the debrief.


"Lets start with your reverse park"
"Crap wasn't it?"  I know I can reverse park and I can do it well.  However for my test I made a complete hash of it.
"Not how I would put it, but essentially, yes"  That accounts for two points.  It would be difficult to get more points for a single manoeuvre.
"You were too close to the maroon car on the motorway.  You weren't going fast enough on the approach to the roundabout.  You should have overtaken the other car etc, etc, etc"  And so it went on.


"But I've passed?"
"Yes"


It took as long to talk about my relative failings when I passed as it did when I didn't.  If you get what I mean.


Still, as I write today, it could be much worse.  A friend of mine who was scheduled to take it today was turned away.  The instructors were on strike.  That sucks.

I prefer not to use the word "fail"

Failed is a bad word.   So I shall consider "not quite passed".  And I am in good company.  Allow me to quote Thomas Edison.  I don't consider old Tom to be a failure but he is quoted as saying "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."  Apart from the sentiment, famous peoples quotes are good for at least two reasons:

1.  It makes me look intellectual and well read (there's a bluff, I still struggle with the advanced Janet and John books)
2.  It saves me from thinking up something clever and witty to say for myself.

So, what is all this talk of not passing?  Last Friday I took my part two (of three) tests to be a driving instructor and, no surprises if you have read this far, I didn't pass.  But did I fail?  Well yes I did, there is a big marked box on the form that says "Fail".  So why did I fail?  Or rather, why did I not pass?  There are lots of categories on the test form that the examiner will put a mark in if you make a fault and I had seven of them although they could all have been scrubbed out and another box added entitled "Russ drove like a dick".  I may be being a little hard on myself but you know the feeling when you do something stupid and you know what you are doing is stupid and you know the examiner knows that you are doing something stupid and you know that the examiner knows that you know you are doing something stupid.  I know the feeling.  A few little stupid mistakes that aren't worth going into here but one big mistake.  One huge great doozy of a mistake that cost me a tick in the pass box.

If you know the roads around Gloucester, you may be aware of the stretch of A38 from Junction 12 of the motorway to the junction at Quedgeley where the Roundabout used to be.  It is a 70 mph limit all the way to the last 600 yards or so where it drops to 30.  I sailed past the 30 sign at about 45mph.  Dumbass.  I am generally familiar with the idiosyncrasies of these sudden changes in speed limit.  In my other life I regularly sit in judgement on people that fall foul of them.  I must therefore consider myself a bad person and take my punishment like a man.  Sitting in the car at the end of the test the Examiner instructs me to turn the engine off:

"I'm sorry to tell you Mr Kirby you haven't succeeded" (see, even the instructor didn't call me a failure)
 "I know"
"Why do you think you failed"
"Because I was dick on the bypass"
"Not quite how I would have put it but...."

Anyway, a bit more revision, a bit more practice and we'll give it another go.  In fact, we will give it another go at 9:30am Monday 1st March.  Happy St David's Day.  I hope the examiner has a good weekend.

The Postman Cometh

Are you superstitious dear reader?  Touch wood, I don't believe in superstition.
Do you believe in fate?  I don't.

But I'm willing to make an exception if it makes me feel better.

The postman came just the other day.  Nothing unusual in that except that there were no bills or final demands or anything of the like.  Rather there was a letter from the Driving Standards Agency.  Now, I'm sure that if you know me or if you have read any of my previous blogs, particularly here, here, here, or here, you will be aware that my chosen path is to become a driving instructor.  Now to do so, one has to pass three tests.  Part one, you may recall, I have aced.  So, back at the end of last year, I sent off to apply for my part two, not dissimilar to the practical test you would need to take when you first learn to drive assuming you started driving after the driving test was introduced.  In the aforementioned post was my test appointment and do you know what?  Of course you don't, I haven't told you.  The date for my test is 12th February.  That may not be significant to my readers but, let me tell you the spooky coincidence here.  Not only is it Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin's birthday but let me take you back fourteen years to 12th February 1996.  What were you doing?  You probably don't remember (though I'm sure my average reader is of an age to have been doing something, possibly drawing their pension).  I remember.  I was taking my driving test.  Weird coincidence eh?  It's fate, it must be.  And yes, of course I believe in fate.  Don't listen to anything I said a couple of paragraphs back.

Talking of my post, today I received a whole bunch of letters from the council and I'll tell you some other news.  Despite my moaning and protestation about the whole benefits system and its inadequacies and just plain hassle involved I did reapply for housing benefit.  Apart from trying to scrape back some of the money I have previously, gleefully given to the government, I thought it might be interesting to find out if I could be better off working part time rather than full time scrounger.  The answer?  Probably not.  My annual reduction in Council Tax - try and contain yourself - £17.14.  I can see you all leaping to get out of the rat run for that sort of benefit.

I like driving in my car...

...It's not quite a Jaguar.  Although, I don't even know whereabouts Muswell Hill is.

I have, of late, been spending some time practising my driving in preparation for my part two test to be a driving instructor.  Those of you who have passed your driving test will, no doubt, remember with varying levels of fondness such manoeuvres as turn in the road using forward and reverse gears etc, etc (AKA three point turn) and reverse round a corner.  Difference is now (for those that passed in a new model T) you have to reverse round a left and right corner and reverse bay park as well.  Now in the several millennia that I have had a licence, I have done these things hundreds of times but never properly since that day when I passed my test, I am shocked at the number of times you have to look where you are going, where you have been and where someone else might be.  Also, if you are a 17 year old oik taking a test, you can get about six million minor faults (well, 15) and still pass.  To be a driving instructor, 6 is your limit.
So, let me tell you about my practice on my own.  I selected a corner to reverse around and proceeded to do it properly, observations and everything, then bump.  Bugger, I thought; I've hit the curb.  So back out and try again.  Same thing.  Surely I'm not that much of a klutz (that's a rhetorical comment).  Back round, reverse down the road, quick look up the corner.  All looks OK, so try again.  Same again, bump.  Stop the car, get out and have a butcher's and what do I see?  Do I see a mounted curb?  No.  There's a sodding raised manhole cover that I didn't see.
Anyhow, I have a fellow trainee instructor as a buddy.  the chaps name is Tom and a thoroughly decent fellow he is too.  One problem.  My instructor is a big fan of acronyms.  Anyone who has taken lessons will be familiar with the likes of MSM (mirror signal manoeuvre) and others.  We use two to remind us to look for bikes and suchlike either side before pulling away at junctions.  BOB is bloke on a bike and TOM is tw*t on a moped.  Therefore, my driving buddy, by default is ....
Anyhow, my  instructor seems happy enough with my driving and I have now applied for my part two test.

In other news, Tina has her annual mobile phone upgrade.  In my opinion, if you can't get a phone out of the box and use it more or less straight away, then it is far too complicated.

Busy blogging if nothing else

First let me introduce you to this, my shiny new blog.  Kind of like the second chapter.  Chapter 1, as you are no doubt aware was Russ' Redundancy Blog a roaring success with at least three readers.  Now I am less redundant, at least for Job Centre and government statistics purposes, a new chapter and a new blog title was needed so a competition was thrown to the wider populace and 'Grand Busy Scoundrel' was chosen as the winner.  Bucket loads of kudos to Mick Long for anagramisng[1] Russ' Redundancy Blog to come up with this here title what you can see now.  Although I have added my name to the start, in no small part in the hope that when I put my name into Google (other search engines are available) it will be listed.

This is where I will fill you in if you care to be filled in on my new working life, training to be a driving instructor which will, no doubt turn into Confessions of a Driving Instructor, general ramblings on life and observations all laced with a healthy sprinkling of grumpiness.

So, what have we been concerned with this week?  I shall tell you.  The Muppets.  By which, of course, I mean the most excellent 1970's onwards TV series and spin off's.  I'm sure many of you have seen the appeal for the Muppets version of Bohemian Rhapsody to beat the X-Factor drivel to Christmas number one.  Now, let me set my stall out; I really don't give a stuff who or what is number one for Christmas, it strikes me as an irrelevance but I must implore you to watch (just listening doesn't do justice) this superb production; you can do so here.  On a Muppet related note, Vic watched The Muppet Christmas Carol at school, another excellent production.  I felt the need to confirm my belief that Michael Caine played a supporting role as Scrooge and imagine my delight to find an interview with Dr Rowan Williams - Archbishop of Canterbury, you don't get much closer to the boss than this guy - listing this as one of his favourite films along with Andrei Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev.  I'm sure they're very similar.

Last night I had a few beers with my brother (I refuse to be drawn to the obvious and call my brother a muppet here) and learnt a couple of things.  Firstly, dodgy pubs in dodgier neighbourhoods can be pretty good.  We were a little uncertain about the Pakend but what a cracking local boozer.  We did, however, leave when about 50 zealots came in to sing carols.  Please don't get me wrong, I love Christmas Carols and support the Christian view of Christmas but overwhelming a pub with half a dozen drinkers in doesn't strike me as best way to get your views over.

Secondly, drinking on a school night when you're pushing 40 is stupid.  I can't handle my drink and whilst not really drunk and didn't drink enough to suffer from a hangover this morning, bugger me was it difficult to get up for work today.

Finally, consider the scene, you see a bloke in a bar, you're sure you know him and can't place him.  Several things race through your mind; Do I owe him money? Have we met in very different circumstances that may compromise my professional integrity? Maybe I'm just plain wrong.  I start chatting and we decide that he used to drink at the very salubrious Northend Vaults some years ago when I was working the bar.  I'm not entirely convinced this is the case but at least he is going to be looking for a driving instructor in a couple of months.  Might be worth knowing that.

[1] Anagramising: -adj.  [an-uh-gram-ising].  To take a word or phrase and create an anagram that hopefully makes sense.  Apparently performed largely by project managers who obviously have far too much time on their hands.

(Extract from the excellent yet to be published (or even written) Russ version of the English(ish) dictionary)