What's The Issue With Self Service?
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The MM Links Game - May Week 5
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Welcome to the fifth and final week in the reign of “Sir Robin of Linksley” (aka Aquagility). Hopefully, the points will be flying off the shelf over the next couple of days.
We hear a lot on AB about ‘the good old days’ and how different things are today, and our universities seem to exemplify this. For a start, back in the 40s and 50s we had five lectures each day! Now, my grandchildren complain if they have five a week!
I was 23 and five years out of school when a grateful government got round to offering me a grant for helping to win the war. So off I went, but what little I had learned at school seemed to have gone overboard, so it was tough. And finding that I had no chance of keeping pace with my baby classmates, I tended to concentrate on those activities for which age was no disadvantage. Like rowing, and flirting. And learning to fly an aeroplane!
The University Air Squadron, part of the RAFVR, offered free flying lessons, too good an offer to refuse, so I signed up. And on 13 January, 1950, I had my first lesson in a Tiger Moth, my first ever flight. What impressed me most was just how cold it was, sitting there in an open cockpit longing for a drag, with my instructor blowing cigarette smoke down the voice-tube at me from his seat in front.
We hear a lot on AB about ‘the good old days’ and how different things are today, and our universities seem to exemplify this. For a start, back in the 40s and 50s we had five lectures each day! Now, my grandchildren complain if they have five a week!
I was 23 and five years out of school when a grateful government got round to offering me a grant for helping to win the war. So off I went, but what little I had learned at school seemed to have gone overboard, so it was tough. And finding that I had no chance of keeping pace with my baby classmates, I tended to concentrate on those activities for which age was no disadvantage. Like rowing, and flirting. And learning to fly an aeroplane!
The University Air Squadron, part of the RAFVR, offered free flying lessons, too good an offer to refuse, so I signed up. And on 13 January, 1950, I had my first lesson in a Tiger Moth, my first ever flight. What impressed me most was just how cold it was, sitting there in an open cockpit longing for a drag, with my instructor blowing cigarette smoke down the voice-tube at me from his seat in front.
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