On Fuming, and Fish in F Sharp.

You wouldn’t believe the frustrating day I’ve had today, trying to deal with two corporate suppliers over new or nearly new pieces of equipment that are already malfunctioning.

I’m not cut out for dealing with modern corporations. Despite the contrary impression that might be given by this blog, when it comes to dealing with the surface realities of life, I’m generally rational, well organised, considerate and flexible. Such attitudes don’t easily attach themselves to the after sales sections of the corporate world, and when you consider that I also have a bit of an anger problem, frustration can become explosive.

Tomorrow I’ll try a different approach, and if that doesn’t work I have another card up my sleeve for Monday. In the meantime, I’ve been reading about piper fish.

The piper fish is a little fish that lives around the coast of New Zealand. It has a long nose that looks like a pipe, which I suppose is where it gets its name, and I expect it’s a good source of sustenance for the gulls in those parts. A rare ditty jumped up and waved.

If I could be a herring gull

And sit upon the strand

I’d catch a hundred piper fish

And start my own pipe band

I’d take my trusty baton out

And wave it o’er the sea

And all the little piper fish

Would hoot in harmony

But then I’d get an appetite

And look upon my band

As there to be my luncheon fare

The best in all the land

My conscience then would be disturbed

It wouldn’t let me sleep

And so I’d send them with my thanks

Unharmed back to the deep