T for train. The accompanying picture is of a steam locomotive. ??? I look for the date of publication. 2008. Okay, P for Plane has jet engines, but I never hear a mother enticing her child to open his mouth for a spoonful of yuck by making jet engine sounds. It’s still a Lancaster bomber that delivers the load, and trains go, “Choo, choo, choo.”
I remember being taught that Q is for Quill. I see children today don’t need to know that. So why is I still linked with Ink? Ink in a bottle, not in a cartridge.
I predate decimalization, so should be excused for not caring how many gigabytes there are in a ram. 22 yards make a chain. I know that very well, though it has never done me any good. But why are cars still advertised by the amount of miles they can travel on a gallon of fuel? I challenge anyone to give me the kilometre per litre figures without recourse to a calculator. And I doubt very much if anyone would understand how economical their car is to run if given the answer.
“How tall are you now, sweetheart?” I ask my granddaughter. “3 feet 2 inches,” she replies. She’s young enough to know better.
I see two women in the coffee shop. One is holding her hands apart and giggling. I’m sure she is telling her friend it is all of 8 inches. How impressive would it sound if she said 20 centimeters?
We have two scales of measurement for temperature. They are used discriminately depending on whether the weather is hot or cold. “Phew, it ain’t half hot; must be well into the 80s.” Eighties Fahrenheit? “Blimey, it ain’t half ‘tatters; dropped to minus 2 last night.” I hope that’s minus two centigrade?
Come on you youngsters, get with the times.
By the way, if anyone ever asks, “On which eye did Nelson wear a patch?” The answer is: Neither. In real life, Nelson never wore a patch, even though he was blind in one eye. Don’t ask me which. I haven’t a clue.