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Covid19 virus

In 2019 I entered this piece for the Lady Denman Cup, a writing competition organised each year by the WI. The theme was “Amazing Discoveries” and could be about real or imagined scientific advances. Just in case you wondered mine wasn’t one of the winners!

Tracey’s Tracer

The work of Professor Tracey Wildgoose is without doubt the best-known discovery of the twenty-second century.  It all began in Disneyland when her young nephew went missing. He was found after a lengthy search, safe and sound and re-united with his frantic parents. 

This incident sparked Tracey’s interest in the way some groups or couples have an almost telepathic sense of where their other half is and what they are doing; identical twins are often quoted as examples of this, so are pairs of lovers or mothers and their babies.

Tracey specialised in social psychology and communications. By the time she chose a PhD subject she had added neurology, information technology and electronics to her portfolio. She was determined to find a way of linking not just those with a special telepathic aptitude but everyone. She set up a major experiment involving thousands of volunteers, which was widely publicised and supported by the WI.  It was difficult and complicated work and of course there were some failures. But after many trials on volunteer groups Tracey’s Tracer, as it was called, became a reality.

For many years there had been electronic tags to keep track of criminals out on licence. There had been pendants for elderly people to wear and activate when they needed assistance. These devices were good as far as they went, but the Tracey Wildgoose Tracer rendered them obsolete. The Tracer works by a small microchip inserted into someone’s brain and linked to a similar chip in someone else. Then the two individuals can share such detail as where they are, who they are with and even what they are thinking. Some families have all their members “chipped in”.

It took some time before this device was widely adopted and even now some people refuse it, just as some refuse to use computers or mobile phones. But by and large the Tracer has gone from strength to strength. There is even a movement to have every baby fitted with a Tracer at birth. This hasn’t happened yet but many feel it is only a matter of time.

A question often put is “Can a Tracer be removed or modified?” The answer is Yes. Teenage children wouldn’t want their parents to know too much about what they were getting up to and not many people would want to keep a contact geared to an ex-partner. So the Tracer can be adapted to a change in location or lifestyle.

Tracey Wildgoose has often been lauded as a “Renaissance woman”, a female Leonardo da Vinci for her work. But perhaps Isaac Newton would make a better comparison as his iconic work is said to have been incited by the single small incident of an apple falling from a tree.

Covid 19 Virus

Now, would you believe it, the government are proposing to put a trace (see Harry Potter books) on us all, by using of our mobile phones. Apparently phones can let you – or Big Brother Government or even Good Sister NHS know where they are, even when they are switched off. Then it will be possible to check whom you have been in contact with and if they are carriers of the Covid virus. 

It isn’t too difficult to check where some phone is (the phone, as opposed to the owner.) Remember though phones can get lost, loaned or stolen. Their IT systems can be hacked and all sorts of other nasty things can happen.

Another consideration: how far away is “near” ? Someone walking past you at a fraction less than the “social distance”?  Someone walking past your house while you are sitting looking out of the window?

How can you, or rather the authorities, know that the person you were in close contact with is a covid carrier? Will we get list of contacts and be required to check that they are virus-free? Perhaps we will get a message saying “you have been on contact with a possible covid source and must isolate” and not even get to know who the carrier is.

Sounds crazy but all too likely in the present situation. Where people struggle to get tested for corona-virus,  but can leave the testing centre and catch the virus from the next person they meet or the next object they touch.

I had been thinking of getting a new mobile phone with the usual extras – camera, radio, films, video etc. but on second thoughts I won’t bother and I think I might chuck my present phone into the river.

It just goes to show how something written as fiction can come dangerously close to reality.  I should be careful what I write. I’ll steer clear of stories of alien invasions or machines taking over the world – they just might come true!

Blogging 101 – Finding Your Own Voice

Our W.I. our local W.I. the one in our village is to close. I can’t believe it. It’s just not possible. I remember when we first came here. I knew no-one. I was stuck at home most of the time with an eighteen-month-old toddler. My husband took the car to go to work every day and I was left on my own in a little bungalow on a country lane half a mile from the village.

Soon I was walking to the village shop and post office. Then I saw poster advertising the next W.I. meeting. It was only a couple of days away. I turned up. I explained that I had been a W.I. member when we lived in Wales and asked if I could join. The ladies were surprised. I don’t think anyone had just turned up before. Most people were introduced by friends. I didn’t have any friends in the village – not then.

I soon settled in and felt at home. In the village, in the community, in the Women’s Institute. I’ve been on the committee; at different times I’ve been treasurer, president, secretary and press officer. The secretary’s job is definitely the hardest.

And now they are going to close. Lack of interest, they say. No young members. (By “young” they mean women in their forties with kids at school.) No one willing to be officers or committee members. It’s saddening. We had such fun. I got to know women I wouldn’t have met otherwise. I went to meetings, not just in our village, but further afield. I’ve been twice to Denman College, the W.I. residential courses centre near Oxford. But that’s another story – and a fascinating one.

 

 

NOT THE W.I. !

Not the W.I.  not our W.I. I can’t believe it!  They’d never…I mean our president would never allow it…would she?   I know about the Calendar Girls and all that but surely a lap dancing class in the village hall is a bit much.  I mean the Mothers’ Union meet there and the Brownies, just think of the example it’s setting them.  What would Brown Owl say?

We’ve had all sorts of other classes, aerobics and keep fit and what not. We’ve had some dances too, and dancing classes.  They used to do Scottish Country dancing at one time.  That was years ago when Mrs McSporran was president.  When she went back to Scotland the classes sort of fizzled out – well it wasn’t the same without the bagpipes.

Then we had a lady talk to us about belly dancing – I must admit I thought it was ballet dancing,  you know Swan Lake and all that.  Mustn’t  have read my programme properly. As turned out,  it was quite interesting.  I’ll never forget when old Mrs whatshername wanted to have a go. She must weigh about twenty stone and she’s older than me and I’ve got my bus pass.  But she’s a game old bird, give her her due.  A pity she overdid it, though.  The paramedics were very kind and she was out of hospital within a couple of days.

Last year they went in for Line Dancing.  All dressed up as cowboys – or cowgirls I suppose you’d call ‘em.  A lot of stamping and clapping and shouting  “You hoo!”  A bit too much noise for my taste.

But lap dancing!  I ask you!  I don’t know what the W.I. is coming to.  I’m sure our founder members would turn in their graves – those that have passed on, that is.  I don’t know what our programme secretary was thinking of .  I know it’s hard to get good speakers and travel costs can mount up if they live a distance away, but really…I’ll have to get our president to have a word with her.

I’ll just check what it says for tonight’s meeting.  Oh dear, I’d not realised I’m down as one of the tea hostesses so I’ll have to turn up. It’s a Miss Dora something – some name I can’t pronounce, probably she’s foreign.  What’s this?  There’s been a correction to the programme.  A typo, as our secretary would say.  The talk is “My Life as a Tap Dancer” from Blackpool Pier to the London Palladium.