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Second Life (7)
　
　
I was sitting close to the summit of Popocatépetl,
the second highest peak in Mexico and an active volcano.
Its name translates as "Smoking Mountain", which is both accurate and relevant to this particular tale.
We were here to film part of a Kodak commercial, which I wasn’t particularly proud of then and these days would deny any association with it, if asked.
(Not everything in First Life is to be admired, as ...

If ever I need reminding of my First Life, it is there before me as I type.
30 or so framed photographs, covered in dust, (some of it no doubt Columbian in nature) pinned to the wall in my study.It’s all there; the horses, the motorbikes, the men, the women, the children, the dogs and the drunks. If ever I want my ego boosted, all I have to do is look up.
Likewise, if ever I wish to know the truth, all I have to do is look for the un-framed photos in the files.
The pictures which ...

Shall I tell you the biggest difference between First and Second Life ?
No ?
Well, I’m going to anyway.
In First Life, you do many stupid things because you are completely ignorant of what the consequences may be.
In Second Life, you do equally stupid things because you know exactly what the consequences may be.
Y’see, people never really learn from their mistakes; they merely learn how to avoid the worst of what may occur in the aftermath. Sometimes. If they’re ...

It struck me the other day, (which day is unimportant really) that it is remarkable easy to spot Second Lifers.
No, it isn’t their walking sticks, or zimmer frames or those mechanised wheelchairs which cause such panic on the quiet streets.
It’s the way they have of simply ignoring the passage of time; wherever or whatever they’re doing.
Let me illustrate.
It is my habit, on occasions when the weather is clement, to sit outside the Orange Pekoe café at the top of White ...

Yesterday was bliss, just 3-4 inches of snow and I knew from experience there was no way to make it up the hill on which I live. Being at the bottom of said hill and at the end of a cul-de-sac (that's French for cul-de-sac incase you were wondering) means there was nowhere else for me to go but back to bed for an hour before firing up my laptop and working from home. The hard work was occassionally interrupted by Oliver wanting to be entertained, or to go and watch other hapless neighbours making ...