Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, June 11, 2003


BRIGHT SPARKS BIT OF A SHOCK


SUNDAY evening is one of those rare times in the week when I make a deliberate effort to watch television although I usually give up by eight o'clock and do something else. Not that the programs are rubbish, which they often are, but the problem is the TV reception on Sundays is always too poor to watch without stressing out. The screen is as clear as crystal at other times but on Sundays it becomes a double-image shadow of itself. Only on Sundays. My theory is that so many sets are tuned to the same TV signal on a Sunday night, there simply is not enough picture to go around. On the other hand, I could always buy an outside aerial to replace the "rabbit ears''. Radios are another problem. Owing to all the computers in the office here, none of the radios can pick up an AM station. If there is something I really wish to hear, I have to go and listen to the car radio. Yet the FM stations can be received perfectly. At the same time, I only have to touch the hot tap in the bathroom at home and the FM radio on top of the cabinet is suddenly awash with static. Only the hot tap, never the cold. But if I touch the radio with my other hand, the static clears. And if I stand holding the TV aerial, the picture is terrific even on a Sunday. What is going on here? Static electricity, for one thing. At school we used to rub a cloth on a plastic ruler, which then was able to pick up slips of paper. It was also enough to make your hair stand on end, not that I would know about that these days. Brushing your hair could create the same effect, again just a memory. The other day I touched the shoulder of a colleague and received a mighty jolt of static electricity. "Sorry,'' she said, "I always do that.'' She must have been wearing nylon underwear although I kept the thought to myself. At night, she said, she always let fly with blue sparks if her partner touched her, which was neither inviting nor user friendly. Another woman here has a computer that crashes at least ten times more often than anyone else's. She says the thing is cursed. I have always blamed it on her fiddling ineptitude but, thinking again, perhaps she is so highly charged that she keeps short-circuiting the terminal. I touched her on the shoulder to check for a snap or a crackle. Nothing. Just as I thought, merely inept. The simple act of leaving a car and touching the metal door can also give you a tremendous whack. I wonder how many heart attacks are caused by static electricity when the victim is found slumped against an open car door, one foot touching the ground. Since it is impractical to go around wearing rubber gloves and insulated boots, or checking to see who is wearing nylon knickers, we need to find ways of putting static electricity to good purpose. For a start, there must be some way of squeezing more bright sparks out of this damned keyboard.