Low

I hate September.

It all started in 1999. I went to university where I had some of the best times of my life.

It’s the first three months that really stick in my memory. A real whirlwind of madness, new friends, fun, laughter – lots of laughter, late nights and booze.

It’s because of this that I get quite upset this time of year. In fact I get positively jealous of all the freshers starting Uni and about to have some of the best experiences ever.

Don’t get me wrong I wouldn’t swap what I have now for the world but the chance to relive those three months would be awesome. It would however have to be those exact three months. I get so nostalgic thinking back to that time.

The Halls – or ‘Villa’ as it was known, the kitchen, everything being yellow, Freshers ball, the costume hunting for the 70s night. Stupidly long bus rides, playing cricket with mugs, remote control cars, Halloween 1999, Blair Witch, moving the contents of the kitchen – including the fridges into various people’s rooms – and their rooms into the kitchen. There was the rugby initiation ritual that left one friend so wrecked we mounted an all night vigil to ensure he stayed alive. We had the banned union jack and the thieving of that flag by the villa opposite. I guess you had to be there but every day really did create memories.

The people were most important though.

Mark, Amy, Anna, Brizzle, Matt, Ruth, Sarah ‘Face’, Nicki, Will, Sarah 2, Cashy, Lise, Ed, Shandyboy, Cath, Tim & Lee

But herein lies one reason why I get mildly down. We never said goodbye properly.

Why? Because as the first term ended I did something very stupid. I hurt one of those people above. Not physically, just verbally – which was probably more painful. I was young & misguided and though after Xmas the group still socialised it was never quite the same. What comes around goes around and a year later a different one of the above hurt me.

Things changed and mid 2nd year I began hanging round with a completely different set of people:

Ian, Susie, Taffy, Rob, Justine, Ash, Chris, Matt, Cat, Rachel, Ed, Andy, Mars, Cath, Sarah M, Sarah 2 & Will.

You were all amazing and once again created many, many happy memories. The Bristol march, stealing a table from Bristol with Suzie, The Price Is Right, Bar Wars, all the Djing and Ents stuff, getting pissed and going one-on-one in the Sports Bar London, The Xmas Balls, the frog & fiddle nights, Djing at Cheltenham Film Studios, power cuts, late night shopping, the donut machine, pizza hut @ Xmas, the Frog – final night year 2 (the best night out ever!)

But somehow none of these are as vivid as those first three months.

So to the person I hurt, if you ever miraculously come across this blog, you know who you are, I’m truly sorry. To the person who hurt me, Bar Wars was never the same again. It’s a shame – it could have been so much more, as Bar Wars 2 is proving, but you’re forgiven say hi sometime.

To all you lucky gits about to start university, I’m so, so envious. Treasure it.

Smoke Without Fire?

I doubt many of you know this but Tom & Jerry is my favourite cartoon. I absolutely love it and have all the 'shorts' on DVD. In my book it even outclasses the Simpsons (though not by much!).
For some years they've been subject to brutal editing and censorship that has largely gone unnoticed by the masses. Basically much of it revolved around 'Mammy Two Shoes', Tom's owner. In the 40s classics she was depicted as black and slightly lacking in the brain department. (Her speech was often incorrect and her spelling totally wrong etc.) In the 60s execs realised this could be offensive and had Chuck Jones re-animate many of her appearances so that she looked white and even her speech was re-dubbed & re-edited.

Also edited out were any occasion that something exploded in Tom or Jerry's faces leaving them 'blacked up' like a minstrel.

Now they're going one further and having any instance where smoking is 'glamourised' within a T&J cartoon edited out.

While I can sympathise with the reasons behind these cuts I do lament them. T&J are legendry. Especially the early Fred Quimby stuff. Most viewers have the intelligence to realise what is considered racist or un-PC now was, at the time, acceptable. If you’re viewing them in context as period animation there's nothing unacceptable whatsoever. Where does it end? Will health & safety freaks want every time Tom's whacked over the head with a frying pan edited out?

The more I think about it the more dumb this is. My favourite ever film is Ghostbusters. It features prominent smoking and I watched it hundreds of times as a kid. Same goes for Thunderbirds which often shows Lady P smoking. I have only ever had one puff of a cigarette and that was only to wind someone up.

Just shows how influential smoking in films & TV is…

Fearlessness

When I was young I often used to go on cycle rides with my best mate D. They were great days out away from Mama & Papa Smeg. Off we’d ride into the countryside and discover many exciting places and hidey-holes; the forgotten Hereford to Gloucester canal, old barns, disused railway sidings and even an overgrown adventure playground.

There was one house which we never had the guts to explore, a true ‘haunted house’ if I ever saw one. Disused, with no power. It stood greying and fading at the end of a gloomy tree enclosed lane. Moth-eaten curtains would flutter out of the smashed windows and strange noises would be heard from the trees surrounding it.

Every week we’d pull up on our bikes daring each other to inch that little bit closer. A summer or two went by until we’d finally summoned up the courage to reach the front door. It was truly creepy. Through the window we could glimpse old décor – possibly not touched since the 20s. We felt it could have been an old farmhouse from when the whole area was farmland.

We’d been far too brave that week so cycled home to safety watching Knightmare and Fun House.

The next week was a different story, we were nearing the end of the summer holidays and our bike rides would soon be postponed to bad weather and schoolwork. We’d reached the front door but could we gather the courage to step inside?

I’ll always remember that day as long as I live. Upon arriving at the house the air seemed to go colder. I was nervous, feeling this was a truly bad idea but ‘D’ egged me on. We pulled the torch out of my rucksack (it was a birthday present back in March, I was secretly quite excited to use it for something other than reading The Beano under the bedclothes at night) and gripped the handle of the main door.

It swung open with a creak straight out of a Hollywood B-movie. We both stepped inside and our senses were instantly overpowered with that musty mouldy smell of old, damp buildings. The wallpaper was peeling away and many of the fixtures were smashed or broken. As we took more steps inwards the daylight faded behind the heavy living room curtains. We flashed the torch around noting an old fireplace, some bedding and modern magazines strewn around the floor. We were too young and innocent to think of druggies or squatters using the house so wondered if it was perhaps a tramp bedding down at night.

That was when we heard a clunking from deeper in the house – movement! Shining the torch over to D I could see he was nervous but he nodded that we should investigate. As we came out of the living room we noticed a door to the left that I swear wasn’t there before. Unlike the other, grander doors in the house it had a more temporary feel to it. It also had a bolt at the top.

“Probably to keep us out” D laughed.
“Or to keep something in?” I replied. I’d meant it as a joke but realising what I said scared my self. What if there was something locked inside? Should we open it?

To cut a story short we did and were confronted with rickety wooden steps down into darkness. Shining the torch into the gloom I could see the cold stone floor of a cellar. A rat, startled by the light scampered off into the dark. I took a few steps downwards and jumped as I heard that clunking again. I couldn’t pin where it was coming from but didn’t want to seem a wuss in front of D.

The cellar was stark, cold, damp. We could see our breath glistening in the torchlight which was starting to flicker – the battery running down. As we reached the back wall of the cellar we were rather unnerved to find two sets of rusty chains drilled into the wall.

“What the hell are those for?” I mumbled as the cellar door slammed shut. We froze. Too scared to turnaround for the fear of what we might discover. There was movement again, and that ominous feeling of someone in the room with us. Indeed now there was shuffling, barely audible over the thumping of my heart – we were way out of our depth.

My torch flickered again, as it did so I noticed another light source from above – it was very feint but it was daylight. As the shuffling grew closer I felt my temporary paralysis ease. Nudging D I inched closer to the light source. As my eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness I could make out a hatch – a hatch that led to freedom.

“Go!” I stammered.

D being more athletic than me leaped up. He made contact with the rotting wood of the hatch and somehow managed to push up and out of it. I saw his legs slide up into freedom and daylight. I reached forward and began to pull myself up, the fresh external air clearing my senses fro the dank below. Just as I thought I would make it something gripped my leg tight. Looking back I could see a hand strong, but pale. It had a vice like grip. Peering into the gloom I could make out a pair of eyes glistening. They were human, but filled with evil intent. I screamed out to D for help put the man with the demon eyes began tugging hard, pulling my leg – just like I’ve been pulling yours for the last five minutes….

Worth The Weight?

I apologise but from today you be charged to read this blog depending on the size of your screen resolution. I will be emailing a handy size guide to all readers to let you know the new charges.

I’m not doing for any real reason other than to rip you off and, perhaps, cash in on the growth of Ebay. If you’d like to complain please contact Royal Mail.

Nikki's Interview BB7 Final

While BB 7 was the last Big Brother I'll watch (I really feel it Jumped The Shark this year - too much producer interferrence...) the whole series was worth it just to see this clip.
Finally the dumb self obsessed bint got her just desserts. Hopefully we'll never hear from her again.

Cornwall | The Bridge On Wool

Our annual visits to Cornwall are centred around one town. Wadebridge. Wadbridge is the sort of town that makes my hometown of Hereford look like a sprawling metropolis. I have to be honest I could never live in Wadebridge, I’d get bored far too easily. Also, one problem I have with the town is that it’s an expensive place. Unlike most towns Wadebridge has yet to fall victim to High Street Cloning. Apart from it’s large Co-op & Lidl all of the shops are independent. Also there’s only one of each. One electronics shop, one bookshop (if you don’t cant the second hand bookshops) etc. While it means that as a whole the town has a lot of charm it also means there is no competition and thus the retailers don’t need to worry about attracting customers with discounts. Books are expensive, as are DVDs, clothes and electronics. Perhaps there’s something to be said for towns succumbing to the likes of Woolworths, WH Smith, Game and Starbucks.

Spending a week in Wadebridge is nice. The cinema is fantastic – making Hereford’s look pathetic. The sound quality is far superior there are actually two screens (despite a local population being a quarter of the size) and the seats are extremely comfy.

Wadebridge is also famous for its two bridges.

A footbridge called ‘Challenge Bridge’ links the Egloshayle playing fields to the Jubilee fields on the other side of the river. The bridge was constructed by Anneka Rice on "Challenge Anneka". The scary thing is upon cycling past this bridge I could clearly remember the show. Instant childhood memories and a day spent whistling the Challenge Anneka theme.

On a more serious note is the original bridge – “The Bridge On Wool”

No one is actually sure if this means that the bridge is actually physically built on sacks of wool as a foundation. What is much more likely is that the bridge was built on the profits of the wool trade. However when the bridge was extended in 1963 some wool was found in one of the core samples taken. The bridge was to become a strategic position in the English Civil War as in 1646 Oliver Cromwell himself came with 500 Dragoons and 1000 horsemen to take the bridge.

I’d recommend a day or two in the town, just wear something florecent as we noticed that the locals do seem to have a bizzare habit of walking into you, or just generally ignoring you.

Cornwall | Shifting Sands

It’s weird how we humans sometimes just don’t notice things. I’ve now been visiting the Camel Estuary area of Cornwall for the last three years – it’s been the annual holiday destination of my girlfriend since she was young.

Part of the holiday routine is for my girlfriend’s parents to play golf almost daily on the St Enodoc Golf course. Although I have little interest in golf I do admire the stunning scenery in which the course is set. This year as we walked towards the 10th tee I noticed something I have missed on the previous two years visits. There’s a church slap bang in the middle of the course.

OK, that’s not amazing really – but it’s what the ‘mum-in-law’ said that in intrigued me.

“Oh yes, that’s St Enodoc church. It used to buried under the sand.”

What?! Was this part of North Cornwall once ruled by the pharaohs?

Anyway it turns out that in the 18th and 19th century the church fell into disrepair and became almost buried in the sand dunes surrounding it. At that time services were performed once a year only, and the clergyman had to gain entrance through a skylight, made especially for that task.

The building was renovated in 1853 - 1864 The vicar, the Rev. Hart Smith was responsible for restoring the chapel. Prior to restoration, the sands were up to the eastern gable, the building was wet, the pews were covered in mould and worm eaten, bats lived in the belfry.

St Enodoc Church has another claim to fame. It is where John Betjeman, the former poet laureate is buried. Betjeman died in Trebetherick on 19 May, 1984.

So there you go, a small church but a lot of history.

The Saviour Of Fistral Beach?

So I’m back from Cornwall. I have lots to write about. Quaint harbour towns, scruffy surfing towns, bridges made from wool and my 2nd favourite UK attraction. My first post vacation blog however, was going to be a rant. You see on Saturday I made the 20 mile trip to Fistral Beach, Newquay to see one of my favourite icons.

Chris Moyles has been a part of my regular day since he first took on the Radio 1 afternoon show in 1998. As a keen hospital radio DJ I admire his knowledge of the industry and the way he broadcasts. As I rarely miss a show I was immensely chuffed to learn he’d be live in Newquay when I was so close. I wasn’t naïve, I knew I wouldn’t get to personally meet him but I had visions of at least being able to see him and hear him. I got neither. The live broadcast was done from a private restaurant – Fistral Blu. (Very nice Noodles in there!) While punters had accesses to downstairs only VIPs could get past the heavies on the stairs to where Moyles was actually broadcasting from.



We got right up close to the building, we could even see the mixing desk and a blurry shadow of Moyles through the window but unless you had a Walkman you couldn’t hear the show. So much for ‘joining Moyles live on the beach’ the week-long advertising blitz had promised.

We left barely 15 mins into the show when we realised that we’d been conned. Today though, Aled Jones one of the producers at Radio 1 (whom we did see!) released this statement.

I've started to see some of the comments coming in talking about the way the
show was done on Saturday. To anyone who wasn't there, we did the show (as
planned) inside a restaurant which meant the beach weren't able to hear us and
we've had some comments from the people waiting outside that they were
disappointed that they couldn't hear the show. If you were there on Saturday and
wanted to hear the show - I'd like to apologise on behalf of the show. This is
what happened. Like you, we assumed we would be able to put some speakers
outside the restaurant so that if you were on the beach you'd hear the show.
When we got there the organisers asked us not to do this saying it would
conflict with the tannoy system they were using as a way of communicating with
the surfers taking part in the competition. We had SUCH a good time in Newquay
that we would love to go back some day. If we do, we'll definitely co-ordinate
things better with the organisers so that the beach will be able to hear the
show next time.

It makes a refreshing change to have an open apology. Obviously there were a lot of disappointed fans. Still it was worth it to see some great surfboarding (even though the waves were tiny) and to be able to picture the scene Moyles sets when I finally got to hear the show…

Poor Service?

I think half the problem with the customer service industry is that for the last few decades the media has obsessively ingrained into the national psyche the mantra that ‘the customer is always right’. Quite simply they aren’t.

95% of customers are wonderful people that are a pleasure to serve but at least once a shift you will come across an absolute pig of a customer who just moans needlessly. I hate stereotypes but they usually fall into two types; the self-important businessman or the middle aged moany woman.

They make extremely unreasonable demands. They try and get things out of you that are totally against company policy and no matter how politely you tell them you are unable to cater for those needs they’ll moan and moan. The self-important businessman is the worst because they think that by flashing the cash they can get anything they want.

I always remember a time our ice-making machine to broke down. One gentleman who’d booked a conference with us arrived literally as we discovered the problem went into an absolutely over the top rant when we served him a glass of water.

“Where’s my ice?” He shouted

“As we explained sir there is a fault with the ice machine but don’t worry we have sent someone out to get supplies of ice before the rest of your group arrives.” I told him.

He didn’t listen.

“What this an absolute disgrace, call your selves hospitality when I can’t get ice in my water!” He shouted back red in the face. He demanded to see the manager and get some money of his booking.

Sadly these sort of ignorant customers are on the increase. Literally 20 minutes later we had enough ice to last a fortnight all it takes is a little patience.

The other classic is people who don’t like foodstuffs and complain when their burger or pizza arrives with mushrooms or tomatoes they hate. Any normal person would simply take the foodstuff off they dislike and eat the rest. After all really, if you dislike something it’s hardly the restaurant’s fault. The amount of people that moan though is shocking.

So while I agree that yes, poor customer service is inexcusable, it would be nice if perhaps the nation paused for a moment and considered the service we workers in the industry sometimes get from our customers – it’s just as bad.

Not Enough Hours In The Day?

“So you work in leisure? What sort of hours do you do?”

“Some 9-5s but a lot of the time I start at 5pm and work through until late.”

“Ohhh, that must be terrible.” Replies ignorant stranger.

The thing is they just don’t know. There is an amazing secret about working late shifts that the many stuck in the rat race don’t know about…

I hate 9 til 5. I find it a wrench to get up for 8am. To be cognitive and alert by 9am. It’s just not right. By 5pm I’m shattered and then usually spend the evening dozing – a complete waste of the day because I’m powerless to do anything by the time I get home.

When I’m working at 5pm however there is this amazing feeling of waking up about 9 or 10ish and knowing, that if I fancy it, I don’t have to get up. Perhaps in our current heat wave this is a no-no but in mid-winter how great is it to be able to stay in bed until 3pm!

Failing that I have all day to do things. To potter around. Get things done around the house or perhaps go into town – and because everyone else is at work town is really quiet. I can whizz in and out of town and do loads of things in a matter of minutes rather than hours. No pushing or shoving. Then I can just stroll into work at 5pm nice and awake without that horrible ‘early morning head.’

So there you go 9-5’s I’ve shared the secret. Fancy a new job?

Bloody Hell

My girlfriend is a generous soul in many ways, one of which is that she gives pints of her blood to complete strangers. No, she’s not a member of a weird vampire sect, (though that would be cool!) she’s a blood donor. She regularly goes through the rigmarole of feeling all feint and tired for a few hours for the good of total unknowns and a free cup of tea.

I don’t know why but I’ve never done it. It just unsettles me somewhat. This is weird because needles and injections don’t bother me so giving blood shouldn’t.

Anyway; lately, Miss Smeg has been somewhat busy. This means she’s missed out on a few appointments. The Blood Service people started sending her ‘sorry to miss you’ type letters which has today culminated in a blunt one entitled ‘Time’s Up’.

It details a bloke whose lost three limbs in an accident and owes his life to blood donors. It’s worded as politely as possible but read between the lines and what it’s basically is saying is:

“You’re a selfish gimp you are, because you’ve recently stopped giving blood people are dying and it’s your fault.”

Isn’t that totally the wrong way to go about it? Why scare someone into doing something that’s meant to be an incredible act of generosity? They should be kissing donors butts, making them feel special praising them, thanking them for such a selfless act.

Personally if you want to convince me to donate my time food is always a good barging tool. ‘Give us a pint of blood and there’s a packet of crisps in it for you…’ or perhaps a badge, free t-shirt? Ooh and lolly pops – lolly pops are always good.

Cheers!

Something just happened to me which has only ever happened to me once before. I also thought that it would never happen again. I got ID’d. Not in a pub either – but in a supermarket. The offending items were 2 bottles of Rosé for consummation with my evening meal.

It first I was baffled when she asked for my ID. I thought she was joking.

“What?”

“Have you got any I.D? You know driving license or passport.”

“I’m 26…” I replied bluntly.

“Yes but I’m just doing my job, I can ask anyone.”

Thing is there is ‘just doing your job’ and then there’s taking the piss. The ultimate irony, as I explained, is that I’m a manager… at a bar.

“So you’ve no ID?” she asked once again with a sceptical look. I hadn’t of course – considering I haven’t’ needed to carry any for 5 years.

Still I got immense satisfaction from telling the dozy old cow at Morrison’s Hereford where to shove the rest of the shopping. It’s a shame I won’t be shopping there again because I’d just discovered a pickled onion flavour cheese in their market range.

Part of me should be flattered that she thought I might be under 18 but I know what I look like – there’s no way I look that young. She’s was just a dumb old jobs worth with no grip on reality.

Did I Believe A Man Could Fly?

So last night I saw Superman. What’s the beef?

Spoilers **************************************************

First 45 minutes really are A grade – they’re the film we’ve been longing to see. The cast fit the bill perfectly. Everything seems to work. Brian & Brandon nail it, the pacing and direction perfect. All this escalates into the plane crash set piece which left me absolutely buzzing. Some of the best 45 minutes of cinema.

However it then begins to fall apart.

The last half hour is utter dross. I personally left the cinema extremely disappointed – a stark contrast to the sheer joy of the first 45 minutes.

The main problem is there is no threat. Whoah, hold up Smeg I hear you cry! Did you not see Lex Luthors exposition dump that Dumbledore would be proud of? Course I did. In a scene ripped straight from the ‘Bashir Bond’ DS9 episode (almost the same map of the world graphics too!) Luthor explained he’s going to create a new land mass – flooding much of America (and the world) thus leading to many riches because everyone will want to live on his new land mass.

Great. A pretty big plot. Problem is once the chain of events are set in motion it never seems that big.

Yes Metropolis gets hit by an earthquake but where’s the international flooding? Where’s the reaction, the terror as the sea level rises? There’s none. So the scale of the devastation actually appears small thus Luthor’s plan never feels as threatening as he makes out.

Also the big problem is one that’s always going to be Superman’s downfall. To get engrossed into the story you have to suspend a huge amount of disbelief.

The 00s have seen some stonking superhero films. Batman Begins & Spiderman 1&2 are comic book masterpieces. I would also much rather rewatch these than Superman. Why? Simply because the creators go to so much length to ground them in reality. Batman especially has you feeling that this just could actually happen. You feel the emotion of the heroes and really get into their psyche.

Sadly Superman lacks this simply because he is so infallible. The scene with the Jet is great and you can just about stretch your imagination to believe that a super powered alien could stop one. Lift a whole continent on the other hand? It’s pushing it. You just can’t relate to him.

I’m also left wondering why he doesn’t seem that bothered by his crystals at the end of the film? We never actually see him find them!

Oh and then there’s the boy. That’s the killer twist that’s going to divide fandom. All I wonder is how the hell did Supes not break Lois back and shatter her pelvis? ;)

A Typical Quarter Final then...

Can't stand football.

My neighbour's Portugese.

I have Portugal in the office sweepstakes.

Yesterday at 6.45pm I was a happy man. Heh heh heh.

TC5 - Dill gets PUNK'D!!!

Ohhh how I laughed when I saw this. As a manager of a bowling alley this is an all too common occurance - the legendary 'Sweep Strike.' If only I could deal with it in the same way as this manager!

Strange Tales

A while back on the blog I told you I was just starting to read Susanna Clarke’s “Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell.’ Well I finally finished the book. (Took ages to read the first half but thanks to the dullness of the World Cup have managed 500 pages in four days – excellent!)

Have to say the main thought when I put the book down was simply ‘and!?’. On the SFX Forums somebody posted that it’s a long book about nothing. I have to agree. When it ends you do have that feeling but then when you sit and think about it a lot does actually happen.

The main problem is the blurb on the back of the book – it sets you up for this great battle between two magicians when in fact nothing of the sort happens – they just have a mild disagreement about 600 pages in.

I love Clarke’s imagination when it comes to the different magic we are ‘shewn’ throughout the book however I do find the characters pretty boring. I agree that the book could do with having 200 or so pages chopped out of it but then again would be hard pressed to say where.

Strange’s adventures in Spain, for me were some of the most enjoyable parts of the novel however they did nothing to further the story along other than boost Strange’s ego.

Also the resolution is disappointing. Again I was imagining a great battle and when Strange & Norrell attempt to summon the Raven King really though the pay off was coming. Instead it all seems to be over in one paragraph as Stephen Black and the gentleman with Thistledown hair have a bit of a falling out.

It’s just a strange book (no pun intended) in that while I enjoyed reading it I felt dissatisfied with it. I didn’t get enveloped into the world of English Magic but felt distanced at all times. Hard to describe really. I doubt I would read any more of Clarke’s writing by choice and doubt I’d recommend it to anyone. She shows plenty of talent but the story and its world just didn’t leap into my mind like some novels do.

The Month Of Hell

Its finally here. The month were the nation becomes obsessed with football. I hate it.
Two of my best mates like this sport. Normally I love their company as they are both into the SF Genre like me and our conversations often spiral into discussions of Bond, Lost and Doctor Who. For the next month I will feel like an outcast as team tactics and results are discussed. Everywhere you look overweight men in England shirts walk the streets while cars are made to look distinctly shit with naff flags flying from all windows.

I’ve stocked up on DVDS and I’m planning to get my aerial fixed so I can finally get Freeview - and thus TV that lacks any hint of ball control - I wont be subscribing to ‘Channel X’ obviously.

Even then you’re still not safe. Because I’m male I’m automatically presumed to be a football fan. I’ll go into pubs or at work a complete stranger will ask ‘what did you think if the match?’ When I tell them I don’t follow the sport I’m looked at as if I’m a leper.

Why cant there be an alternative world cup for non football fans? International tea making or hot-dog eating. I’d watch that. There was a glimmer of hope a few years back when Robot Wars was popular - I really got into that and had visions of it becoming a popular multinational ‘sport’. Sadly poor treatment from BBC and Five soon scuppered that.

So excuse me if I’m tetchy from now until July 9th its simply because I’m being forced to care about something in which I have absolutely no interest.

Ill be in the garden if you need me...

Want To Test Your Nerve?

While I was uni I often used to shop in Iceland and Tecos. Both stores were a good ten to 15 minutes walk from my house. My flat mate and I accidentally discovered a great game to play - a game Id forgotten about until the other day. Basically you stuff your shopping bag with as much stuff as possible. So instead of sensibly spreading your load over three bags cram it into two.

This might seem daft. It is. But that’s where the fun starts. Thanks to the chain stores ever chasing profits the carrier bags are thinner and thinner thus after a few minutes the bags start to tear.

Its a real game of nerves then to get home without your shopping spilling over the pavement. To increase the tension, slip an expensive bottle of wine or sprits into your shopping too. Two years of this game and to be honest were still not sure of the best tactic. I prefer slow and steady and minimum tearing. My opponents have tried the mad dash but this seems to encourage the bag to burst.

Any way last week halfway home - my new house is closer to the shops - the bag started to go. Cue a sweaty brow and slightly nervous walk. While shopping bag buckaroo was funny at uni losing a bottle of gin and a load of apples these days is damn annoying.

Wedding Worries

Last weekend was one of my first DJing gigs in ages. I was really, really nervous. Not from lack of recent practice but because for the first time I was Djing a friends wedding. Only once have I ever really not had a good DJing gig - not bad for 7 years - but I couldn’t get it out of my mind what would happen if I screwed up on Sat. The main problem, I guess, is that there was no anonymity - I couldn’t leave the gig safe in the knowledge i will never see the bride or groom again. Thankfully the gig was great as was the whole weekend. The bride looked gorgeous and the groom delivered possibly the best speech I have ever heard at a wedding. It was also a time to catch up with old friends and I discovered I’m crap at crazy golf while Miss Smeg was suspiciously good.

Me Man, Ug.

Barbecues are a weird thing. Show most men a modern fan-assisted oven and there’s little interest. However give him a metal bowl, firelighters and charcoal and his primitives urges come rushing forward. Women are banned from within 6 foot of the fire while he spends ten minutes poking it with that weird long metal rod with a spiky, pointy bit on that no one actually knows what its for.

Last night was my first BBQ. Obviously I have been to dozens but I have never been master of the fire myself. I tried to look all manly as I loaded the charcoal. Of course the fact that the BBQ its self was bright pink didn’t hinder my Neanderthal grunting.

Initially it was failure. No fire but loads of smoke. I was concerned about the poor neighbours washing, then slightly concerned about my lack of ability to breathe. Thankfully a friend came to the rescue. He’d done this before and expertly rearranged the coals around the firelighters to produce a roasting furnace.

Gladly things went very well. I was actually slightly disappointed in that the food came out perfectly. The meat was succulent and juicy and completely lacked the black burnt to a crisp covering you should have at such events.

So a good night followed in the company of all my best friends, beer and laughter. We also now have enough burgers and chicken to stock a small McDonalds for two weeks but we can consider our house officially warmed... only ten months late.

Doctor's Decline?

Hate to be so negative about what has become one of my favourite TV shows but immediately after watching Dr Who this week I was worried. Worried that it’s fast becoming stale and de-evolving into ‘Dr-using-villain’s-technology-to-triumph-show-of-the-week’. Last week’s finale & this weeks were just too similar. Both had transmitters, both had heights. Last week the Doctor used a Samsung and convenient docking station this week he used scratch-built gadgetry and a convenient transmitter.

When thinking about it wasn’t that sort of his plan in ‘The Parting of Ways’ too? Then in ‘New Earth’ it was a similar resolution and even ‘Tooth & Claw’ too. It’s all getting a bit samey. Even the Sycorax are at the ‘transmitting’ game with their blood control.

Then there’s the Sonic Screwdriver..A fascinating gadget and could be explored wonderfully but I fear it’s being used lazily and far too much.

The concept of The Idiot’s Lantern was genius. The first 10 minutes had me completely intrigued and I loved the faceless victims – classic Who and genuinely chilling for the kids.

The plus points were, Maureen Lipman and I felt Parker from Thunderbirds was great as Magpie. The dad was poor - he was over acting like he was fresh out of drama school.

The viewers were definitely being talked down to in this episode. ‘Oh Doctor why are there so many aerials… etc’ That line was so forced. While I believe they are developing Rose’s character well this sudden leap in observation and knowledge just didn’t seem right.

Also if The Wire was devouring its prey how come they were stored in Magpie's TVs?

This episode could have been so, so good but it’s fuzzy logic and now clichéd ending means it got a poor reception from me…

Eye Eye

Big Brother 6. I hated it. Kemal & Makosi irritated me so much I wanted to grap something pointy and shove it into the television. Instead I chose the far cheaper option of turning it off. For the first time since Big Bro began I ignored it.

I have decided to give Big Brother a second chance with BB7. With the World Cup fast approaching I needed something to keep me sane and distract me from my hatred of football. So far I’m pleased to say I’m enjoying BB. Ok, ok Shahbaz was extremely irritating but in a different way to the demon spawn of last year. He was watchable. You wanted to gasp in amazement at what he did next. I’ll admit part of me is upset he’s gone.

There’s no mourning of Dawn or Bonnaaaaah though. They contributed nothing to the house and it seems the public have finally learnt to vote out the boring ones.

There is, however, a cloud on the horizon. Big Brother is planning to introduce new housemates on Monday night. Internet scuttlebutt insists these two entities are going to be past housemates. While part of me would love to see Jade or Jon Tickle given a second run part of me fears it’ll be the two I detested last year. Please let’s have someone new and interesting otherwise the off switch may just have to be hit once more.

Dear Local MP

Next time you visit a bar can you please behave like a civil human being. You are, believe it or not, a mere mortal just like me, the staff and your constituents.

Next time you visit a bar to find the kitchen closed why don’t you politely inquire as to why the kitchen is closed rather than make a show in front of your cronies demanding that it is ‘outrageous and preposterous.’ Don’t grill the staff and speaking to them arrogantly demanding to know why your tubby belly can’t be filled further. They we’re actually doing a fine job considering they were a man down on a very busy shift.

Also once again I remind you that when you are in a bar, as far as I’m concerned you are no more important than any other customer so don’t make such a show of huffing and puffing when staff ignore you to serve another customer who was actually at the bar first.

Perhaps if your performance record was more impressive I’d be keener to suck up to you hissy-fits in future however as all you seem to care about is getting your blotchy red face in the local paper every week or drinking Gilbies Hereford dry then as far as I’m concerned you are nobody.

Thanks for providing me some entertainment today. I never thought someone so average could be that far up their own arse. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Good luck Hereford United!

Newsagent Nerves.

I slowly shuffled up to the newsagents counter. My nerves peaked as I stepped closer and saw it was an attractive young girl serving. I’d kind of hoped it would be a man – at least he’d better understand my need for the material I was about to purchase. The fact I could see it’s garish cover nestling on the shelf behind her only made this harder.

I felt a bead of sweat on my brow and my throat tighten as I stood up to the counter. A young mum and her son walked past. I paused for an instant, not wanting to embarrass myself as I purchased this ‘dirty’ material.

“Hi.” I stammered, trying to avoid eye contact. “Can I take this please?” I placed the respectable magazine on the counter. By buying that as well I hoped it would distract her from my next purchase. “Oh and can I take a packet of Doctor Who stickers please…. Um, actually, make it five packets.”

There. I did it. She smiled sweetly and dealt out the small packets and I quickly hustled out of the shop. I hoped she thought I’d be buying them for a son or nephew then I realised that by also purchasing ‘Battlestar Galactica Magazine’ in the same transaction that I was obviously a geeky science fiction fan.

Ok, ok. I’m 26 years old and I’m collecting Doctor Who stickers. It’s tragic isn’t it? But I confess there was still that twinge of excitement when I ripped open the packet and found I had a foil sticker – not any foil either. It was one of a Dalek! There was the bitter sting of disappointment when I found I had quite a number of swaps too.

It’s been well over a decade since I last collected stickers. I think the last time I did this was for Star Wars Tazos – but at least you had to buy crisps for those – it wasn’t painfully obvious I was actually collecting them. I never intended to collect the Doctor Who album, it’s the Radio Times’ fault. They gave away a book for free.

Tomorrow I will go through it all again. The nerves as I go into the newsagents. I have a plan though. Tomorrow I will buy a copy of The Times too – she’ll never know the stickers are for me then.

Well. I hope not.

PS – Don’t suppose you’ve got number 143 have you?

Watching The World Go By

When I was a child someone told me something that was quite prolific. They told me that if you just sit in one public space for a while sooner or later someone you know will walk past.

That person was Dr Ray Stantz in an episode of The Real Ghostbusters. Possibly not a source noted for such great observations on life but that quote has stuck with me ever since.

It is amazing though that out of 6 billion possible people in the world whenever you go on holiday, no matter how far flung the destination you always seem to bump into somebody you know.

Yesterday I was in Cheltenham. I spent three years of my life there whilst at uni and while sipping at a Starbucks I tested out Dr Stantz’s theory.

The odds were against me from the start, Cheltenham isn’t my hometown. Most of the people I befriended whilst there were also from different locations and have all moved on. Cheltenham is bigger than Hereford so with more people it’s less likely I’d know random strangers.

Whilst sitting by the fountain outside Starbucks in the gorgeous sunshine I was quite pleased to discover Stantz was correct.

First up was a girl I’d worked with in Hereford a few years back – before uni. The odds of that were immense because she was also on a day trip to Cheltenham.

Second up was the University president when I was there. He sauntered past on the far side of the street. Bringing back happy memories of drunken adventures with him in London.

Third was a disabled girl who was always in Park Bar at Cheltenham.

Finally one of the children I had taught whilst doing teacher training in Chelt skipped past though she did look considerably more grown up only highlighting that its been some time since university.

Still it was good to know that Dr Stantz hadn’t let me down.

I'm about to leave for my first ever 'Stag Weekend'. The groom is putting on a BBQ tonight, paintball and booze tomorrow.

It's going to messy.


Wish me luck.

RIP

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they, themselves, failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a student - but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Supermen Return

2006 sees the return of the two greatest ever superheroes to the big screen. In July America’s favourite son in the form of Superman while November welcomes James Bond – the UK’s ‘superhero’ back into cinemas.

I can’t wait.

For a while superhero films languished as absurd over the top films. Laughed at by films fans and mourned by comic book fans. Tim Burton’s Batman of the late 80s/early 90s was a step in the right direction but it was still over shadowed by the camp 60s TV show. Joel Schumaker of course took it completely down the wrong path.

Thankfully in 2002 Spiderman came to the screen and showed the world how comic book movies should be done. Gone were the day-glo colours and 2D characters this was a superhero film you could actually believe in. Xmen too have managed to ground themselves despite being slightly more fantastical.

Last year came possibly my favourite film of recent years. Batman Begins. A truly awesome film which rightly devoted much of its screen time to character building rather than ridiculous super villain plots. We finally saw the Dark Knight as he should always have been portrayed. A hero who is actually just as troubled as the villains thanks to his struggle with duel identity and the murder of his parents.

Superman lacks the psychological struggle of Batman & Spiderman which is why I’m slightly concerned that it won’t have much more to say than the excellent 1979 original. The trailer looks superb but somehow I feel it’ll be a return to superbattles and superficial adventures that Batman & Spiderman successfully avoid. I’m hoping Brian Singer manages to add the emotional element that modern movie audiences demand. The same goes for Casino Royale in November. Die Another Die was awful. Far too over the top with no grounding in reality. Anybody can do a no brains action film – it’s the intelligence and cunning that set used to set Bond far apart from the others. Die Another Day was nothing more than bums-on-seats popcorn fodder. Please let Casino Royale show some depth to Bond. Ditch his reliance on gadgets and luck and bring back the wit and intelligence of the Connery era.

Technological Slowdown?

We live in age of gadgetry. iPods, Digital Cameras, PDAs, flash storage and more. While this is impressive it’s all about miniaturisation and refinement of already existing technology. What’s happened to the progress of science? Think about it – when was the last truly earth shattering invention? You know, something that really changed life and aided humanity?

Cars while they’re more aerodynamic and efficient the principle is still basically the same as Henry Ford’s model T. Trains have remained unchanged since the steam to diesel revolution. Computer’s have been around since the 40s (in a very basic form) and while today’s PCs are amazingly powerful they are just refined and developed versions of technology that was created decades ago.

Has our capacity for invention disappeared? There’s been nothing new in the kitchen since the microwave. (The George Forman Grill isn’t that special!) Healthcare is still largely based on antibiotics developed in 1928 by Alexander Fleming. And long distance travel is still based on the Jumbo Jets that crept into service 30 odd years ago.

So where have all the inventions gone? Where are the flying cars and the robotic house cleaners? Why does it now, on average take longer to get to London that it did 30 years ago? Where are the amazing new health drugs and procedures? Why haven’t we gone back to the moon or beyond?

I genuinely believe our technological age isn’t as wonderful as we’re lead to believe. I love my iPod but it seems, that sadly, it’s the only invention that will define my generation.

Clarke Sacked

Just minutes ago the sacking of Charles Clarke was announced. Also Just minutes ago I also decided I will not support Labour until a serious rethink on their policies take place.

If he’d have been sacked after the scandal that over a thousand potential criminals had been released I would have been happy.

I would have been happier still if Clarke was sacked when he made the disgusting comment that this blunder was ‘not as serious as 7/7’.

But no. He was sacked after Labour had a disastrous time at the local elections loosing many votes to the Tories.

This, to me, proves one thing. The current Labour administration cares more about popularity than it does integrity. Is that the mindset that should be running the country?

May The Fourth Be With You

Happy Star Wars Day!

Try The Chips...

Has to be said. When I was teacher training I'm very glad I was never placed in this school.

Bookwormed

Throughout the 90s I lived in a literary black hole. Oh I read, I read lots, but it was all Star Trek. I lapped up as many Trek novels as possible and thoroughly enjoyed them but by 2000 and my first year of Uni I began to grow tired of the written adventures of the various Enterpri.

I ventured into the world of James Bond and soon worked my way through the entire collection. A flatmate introduced me to Harry Potter - I scoffed at first shunning it a child’s book but soon became enchanted by the wizard world.

Even so I still felt I wasn’t challenging myself. I wanted to try new styles of writing and different novels. It’s taken a while but through discovering the SFX Forum, and their book discussion threads I’ve now been reading some excellent novels.

This year I’ve read the two new James Bond Junior novels, Terror Firma and Before and After by Matthew Thomas. Dan Brown’s Deception Point - far more enjoyable than the much hyped Da Vinci Code. I’ve also read I Am Legend, Freakonmics, The Yes Man by Danny Wallace and Louis Theroux’s Call Of The Wild.
While these are not the most challenging books in the world I’m glad that I have got out of the rut I was in. That’s not to say I don’t still read Trek - I especially love the William Shatner series but its nice to see what else is out there.

Och Aye....

So hopefully you followed my recommendation and took a visit to the marvels of Leamington Spa Lifeboat Museum? If you enjoyed that then I can certainly recommend a visit to one of Scotland's hidden treasures.

Torchwood House is one of Scotland's most interesting properties, with some sections dating back to the fifteenth century. The House was extensively rebuilt in the late 1600s, with further work then completed in the early nineteenth century.
Although it was a house built to impress, much of it fell into disrepair during the time of Sir George MacLeish in the 1800s. An eccentric man, Sir George was fascinated by both the sciences and local folklore. He was good friends with the Queen Victoria's husband Prince Albert. Many a servant was kept awake waiting on Sir George and the Prince as they whiled away nights discussing the mysteries of the heavens!

Torchwood House even caters for weddings and lends it's name to a group set up by Queen Victoria to investigate the paranormal.

Fresh Air

Fresh Air,
originally uploaded by smeg_head.

It's weird that now photos have become digital more accessible we seem to do less with them. They no longer are lovingly filed in a photo album - instead they get tucked away on your hard drive or photo CD.

Following my joining Flickr I've been looking through some of my old snaps. I came across this one I took at Eden last August. I make no claims of being a 'photographer' but I remember being really chuffed with the results of this photo. Even more chuffed that someone's made it a favourite on flickr.

Eden is one of my favourite places on Earth. I love the stunning simplicity of the biomes and how it betrays the complexity of their construction. The way they fuse with nature to create such a beautiful corner of Cornwall.

If you've never been please go. You wont regret it!

Losing Lost

After Doctor Who it was possibly the biggest TV event of 2005. Lost. I did once post raving about it during the first few weeks but then I moved house. Things got busy and stayed busy and I stopped watching it. I heard tales f how good it was, what I was missing but every time I tried getting back into it I just saw a very slow pondering show with too many flashbacks.

Instead I buried myself into Doctor Who, the excellent Life On Mars and the truly stunning new Battlestar Galactica.

These shows do highlight a shift in programme making. Gone are the days when you could watch TV shows in any order. Static characters and story of the week used to be the feature of all TV shows now ‘the arc’ is the buzz phrase. There is of course a problem. Now to watch a TV show you have to commit to it. You can no longer miss an episode for fear of being left behind. Producers tease you with plots, occasionally having the kindness to wrap some up but usually leading to more questions being asked.

There is a problem. The more you commit to and enjoy a show the higher your expectation. This means that ultimately when the TV show becomes unprofitable and the decision is made to axe the resolution will always be disappointing. Look at Babylon Five. The final season an utter mess. The X Files collapsed under the weight of it’s own mythology and became unwatchable. There’s also Star Trek Voyager. After seven years of journeying home they arrive at Earth and the show just ends – no emotional pay off whatsoever. Crap.

I’m just concerned that these shows I’m really into at the moment will end with a bitter taste of disappointment. The same goes for Book 7 of Harry Potter. I’ve invested 10 years of my life into Harry Potter – I want a damn good finale but I know nothing will live up to all the fan gossip and speculation.
After 9 months of business my life is easing up again. I have a bit more spare time and I’m finally getting into Lost thanks to a few DVD loans. I just wonder why I’m doing it. I know the shark will be jumped and the ending will be crap. Still I guess the journey is what counts.

Want more Lost?: Answers Questions

Hypocrisy

Today’s Blog is not written by Smeg. Instead he's handing it over to the Daily World Tabloid Editorial.

“Shock! Horror! Prince Harry in busty lap dance scandal.

Prince Harry, third in line to the throne, was caught red handed last night as he celebrated in topless nightclub with army pals.

“He was loving it.” Said one fellow punter.

The royal prince paid for a full lap dance and was grinning like a Cheshire cat when the Russian beauty gave him the works.

We think it’s a poor example set by the Royal. In a weeks time he’ll be performing at his passing out parade in front of his gran.

Perhaps he should think more carefully before he visits a club again. The royals shouldn’t been seen treating girls like sex objects.”

Meanwhile turn to page 3 for 18-year-old Lusty Linda’s view on the bird flu crisis. “Giggle, as long as my two pet tits don’t get it I’m not bovvered.”

The Blue Peter Appeal

So Am I now the proud owner of a BP badge? Obviously you can’t wait to find out. What did the letter from Blue Peter say? Did they laugh at my anecdote? Did they thank me for reassuring them that the children of the new millennium still watch their fine programme. Did they promise me they’d look into running a feature on blogging?

Ladies and gentlemen my letter from Blue Peter in full:

Dear Smeg,
Thank you for your e-mail which we enjoyed reading.
Best wishes

Um. That’s it. Just 13 words, 62 letters. That’s not even the alphabet three times. Well Blue Peter, sod you. Didn’t want a crappy plastic badge in the first place oh and you know what? Tracy Island was a big pile of shit all along.

The '201st Post' Blue Peter Spectacular.

It all began back in December. My quest to win a Blue Peter badge. This week that quest was fired once more with news about the BBC's annoyance at the ebay Blue Peter auctions. I finally wrote to Blue Peter. This was my letter:

Sorry to hear about your problems with Blue Peter Badges on Ebay. I must admit
I’m mildly amused by the story as literally a few weeks ago I was wondering
about Blue Peter Badges and how it was my biggest disappointment as a child. I
always wanted one but failed to come up with a spark of imagination to write
into the show – despite watching it religiously through the golden years of Mark
Curry, Yvette Fielding and the sadly missed Karen Keating.

As an
ex-primary school teacher you’ll be pleased to know children are still watching
the show as avidly as back in my day despite the modern day distractions of the
internet, iPods and Playstations. The class used to laugh when I spoke of my
attempts at building Tracy Island, which then spent about four years on top of
the wardrobe half finished.

A while back I discovered one of my
friends once won a Blue Peter badge. He even started wearing it to rub in
knowing that I failed to win a one. (It’s dumb isn’t it – two grown men teasing
each other about Blue Peter badges.)

So I logged on to ebay to have
a look. At £70+ I was instantly priced out of my ‘dreams’. You have to
understand I wasn’t going to bid online to get into attractions free – it was
just for the pure prestige of owning a Blue Peter badge!

Oh well.
Perhaps I’m too old to ever win one but just thought you might find the tale
amusing. Oh and here’s an idea for the show. Don’t know if you’ve covered it but
what about a look at ‘Blogging’ and Internet Journals. It’s fascinating to read
Blogs from around the world and of course write your own. You could tie this in
with an item about internet safety etc.
Good luck with the badges, it
would be a shame for a British institution to be stalled by a few online
auctions.

Today I received a reply from the Blue Peter offices. But I have I won a badge? Could my dreams have been answered? What did BP have to say about by letter?

You'll find out tomorrow.

Leamington Spa's Gorgeous Coast

With the sun shining yesterday morning I decided it was too good to waste. So I decided to head to Leamington Spa. I’d been that way roughly a year ago when Miss Smeg & I took a trip to Warwick Castle. The town, of course, is gorgeous but that’s not what I was there for. No I decided to visit the world famous Leamington Spa Lifeboat Museum. For centuries heroic men and women have braved Leamington’s treacherous coastline saving souls in distress. (Over 12 in fact!)

It’s a great museum. There’s a musty exhibition of treasures found from wrecked ships – if it’s gold coins you want then the lifeboat museum has plenty!

But the history of the Lifeboat Station is as dramatic as the tales of people rescued there. It is, of course, long gone – destroyed in WW2 Nazi bombing raid which even tragically killed the lifeboat crew.

Then there’s the strange tale from 1930 when the lifeboat crew made the headlines when three of them were killed by what was believed to have been a bad wolf!

Next year the Lifeboat Museum is having a special exhibition on Old Rope. I’d recommend you check out the their website – explore it thoroughly. You’d be a fool not to…

Here's One I Made Earlier

So there’s a load of fuss about Blue Peter badges. Apparently ebay is selling them at a silly price and now the BBC is halting it’s ‘free entry’ promotions to stall the naughty ebayers. Of course, you may remember I wrote about this here.

Spurred on by the news stories I have started my plan of action to obtain a Blue Peter Badge. Obvioulsy I’ve ignored option c ‘grow up’. But did I choose A or B? Will I obtain a Blue Peter badge and fulfil a childhood ambition or will nothing ever come of this plan.
Sadly you have to wait to find out, as do I.
It’s almost as exciting as Wardrobe Watch (which are now complete, I forgot to tell you. It only took 7 days in the end!) but will it be as exciting as the forthcoming ‘Sunflower Watch’? Time will tell.

Flicking Through Some Photos.

I've decided to finally get with the times and sign up to Flickr. I stumbled across Flickr via Dave Gorman's excellent website & blog. His photos are always entertaining. I slowly branched out exploring Flickr and coming across some genuinely stunning images.

Alas my images are a tad more basic but it's handy to have online access to some of my photos. If you like you can explore them here too:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/smeg_head/

Streets Of Shame

Why oh why does radio 1 keep deluging my ears with the new Streets track? Simply put it’s awful. Now I know the Streets is a Marmite style love-it-or-hate-it artiste but even the Streets fans I know have had enough of this awful track being rammed down our throats constantly on all the music channels and Radio 1. How can the same person who gave us the fantastic ‘Dry Your Eyes Mate’ be responsible for such a duff record?

I know what the playlist planners are thinking. Massive hits in the past so the OTT airplay justifies it, but isn’t unfair to newer bands who are actually producing some damn fine stuff but get ignored because they haven’t got the previous sales to back them up.

Take The Feeling with Sewn. A gorgeous song that deserved to be number one. While Radio 1 did give it quite decent airplay a bigger push by the commercials would have given it the place it deserves.

Of course the reverse is true. Good records can be spoilt by being over played. With hundreds of singles around at the moment why are the music providers obsessed with constantly playing Madonna Hung Up or Gnarles Barkly Crazy. The latter hasn’t even had an official single release yet and already I’m sick of it even though I actually think it’s a cracking track.
I just think it would be better if the national and commercial music providers streamlined their playlists a tad. Don’t be so biased towards supposedly bankable artists and give more airtime to fresh talent. Oh and please, someone just admit it. The Streets new track is crap.

It's Not Just The Rides

I’m guessing 99% of visitors to Alton Towers go for the likes of Rita, Nemesis and The Flume. The decaying stately home that stands overlooking the park much ignored by the majority. I’d count myself as one of the ignorant. While I admire the beauty of the gardens as they wind to the Churnet Valley and the imposing Gothic Architecture I’ve never been that bothered by them. Over the last few visits that’s changed. I’ve started wondering more and more about the Towers and on Tuesday decided to forgo the rides for an hour and explore the ruins.

It was stunning. The Towers are huge, bigger than they look. Sadly, due to neglect in the early 20th Century and it’s time as a training camp in WW2 the Towers are no more than just a shell but it’s not what they are now that amazes – it’s what they must have been.

Although the Alton Towers site has been occupied since the 8th Century it was the 15th Earl of Shrewsbury, Charles Talbot (b.1753) that began to transform the site into what we know today. His passion was the gardens. Completely transforming them with Chinese Pagoda fountains, huge conservatories and of course the Gothic splendour of the Towers themselves.

Sadly in the 1920s the Shrewsbury line was in financial decline and Alton Towers sold off to a group of local businessmen. By this time it was already open to the public and attracting hundreds to explore the stunning gardens – lovingly restored by the new owners.

It’s not entirely sure how The Towers got into the ruined state it is now. When the Army took over in the 40s they boarded the state area up leaving it un touched. Perhaps no maintenance for a whole decade wasn’t helpful but they certainly didn’t purposely damage the house.
At some point post war the lead was stripped from the roofs of Alton Towers leaving the house open to the elements. Rumours of a fire in the East Wing (now the most ruined part) probably hold some truth but thankfully current owners Tussauds are starting to turn things around. They’ve made much of the house safe to explore and are slowly renovating parts of it. Sadly at the speed they’re going don’t expect any grand banquets in the great hall very soon but I’d definitely recommend putting aside an hour of them park fun to explore this magnificent building.

For more on the history of Alton Towers.

Yesterday At The Towers

Two Pictures, taken yesterday, to show why I love Alton Towers so much. You have some of the world's best coasters surrounded by some of the world's best scenery.

The Towers Of Alton

Ahh at last, the day I’d been eagerly awaiting had arrived. Yesterday was my first Theme Park visit of the year. It’s a passion I share with my girlfriend and one of my best friends so off we voyaged to the beautiful Staffordshire countryside.

Last year was a trip tinged with disappointment. My beloved Towers provided me with a poor day out thanks to increased prices, miserable staff and many ride and themeing faults. As such I vowed to only visit once in 2005. Would 06 be better?

Upon arriving the atmosphere seemed much, much better. Lots of painting had taken place. The park visibly cleaner. Queues for the rides were non-existant, we walked on everything. This meant we could get much more ride time on Rita & Spinball – two rides I feel I just haven’t experienced enough.

There were some bitter disappointments. The Mine Train and Flume were both closed however two things more than made up for it.

First was Duel. I’ve long lamented the 2002 re-theme of the Haunted House but yesterday all the elements seemed to be working properly and the ride seemed a bit nippier. It’s also the first time in years I’ve been on Duel without it stopping mid ride for five minutes. Really enjoyed it.

Second was the Ripsaw. Wow. They’ve beefed her up a treat. For a start they were actually using the water jets to full effect actually drenching riders – haven’t seen that for years! You may think I’m mad but this encouraged me to ride it instantly and loved every minute.

Air was struggling bless her. While she was nippy around the track and got up the lift hill without stalling she did seem to make funny whining noises in the station. I’ve now learnt the ride was closed at 3pm shortly after my own ‘flight’.

One thing I will say is that the staff were excellent. Gone were the moody ‘magic’ providers of 2005. Instead they were chatty and laughing. Playing games with each other and interacting with guests like I’ve never seen before. One in particular, Kate on Nemesis, took time to talk for a while. I really got the feeling she cared about the job and, in her words ‘her baby’ Nemesis. This passion has been lacking from the park of late but early indications are that 2006 could really be the season where the magic returns.

One more dose of excitement was provided by the sight of Henry Hound strolling down Towers Street. Ahh a childhood icon at last returning to the home of the Talbots!

I also did something very different yesterday. I’ve never done it before – despite dozens of visits. I actually took time to explore the ruins of Alton Towers. Still, more about that tomorrow…

Where Have All The Swear Words Gone

Cast your mind back to the age of 10. How good did you feel uttering the word ‘shit’. Or even’bloody’. What about ‘piss’? There were true swear words. You’d get told off by your parents for saying them and they were strictly frowned up on. Nowadays they seem commonplace. I often overhear young mothers using them in front of, and even at their kids.

Words such as “f*ck and “c*nt” are obviously still taboo but slowly they are creeping into television more and more. ‘F*ck’ is no longer bleeped out after 9pm an sure sign that it is no longer the vile word it once was.

The problem is for people like me who rarely swear it’s hard to get true impact when you need it. I vivdly remember the first time I used ‘f*ck’ infront of my mates. There was a sudden silence and they knew I was deadly serious. This is the power swear words should have in the language but thanks to the dirty mouths of the chav society the words have lost their impact.

In ten years time it wouldn’t surprise me if children’s programmes are littered with foul language. It is time, I feel, that a new batch of expletives were created to replace those that we’ve become desensitised to.

Any ideas?

I quite like ‘Fraq’ or ‘twak’. Of course I’m sure you could think of better ones.

26

Ahh my 26th Birthday. Didn’t celebrate as I ended up working all day but thanks to the various people for the cards, the Gremlins DVD box set, the new shoes and the Catchphrase DVD board game. (Say what you see!)

Don’t really feel any older just don’t feel like parting either. Still only two days until the first trip to Alton Towers – that’ll cheer me up!

2nd Bloggerversary

Wow. It’s two years today, on the eve of my 24th birthday, since I started doing this. I can proudly say that I’m chuffed with myself for keeping it going. Admittedly the last 12 months hasn’t seen as many posts as the first 12 but I’m blaming a whole summer without internet access while I moved house last year.

It’s strange but 2 years in, on the eve of my 26th birthday, and I still have no idea why I blog. I don’t think my life is that interesting so I don’t fool myself that people would want to read about it. I do, however, get simple pleasure from noting down my opinions. Some Blogs have a definite vision. Mine doesn’t. Some days I comment on current affairs other days I noted something I did. Occasionally I use the Blog to reminisce and now and then to simply rant.

Still to all those of you that have commented many thanks. Why you’re reading this I don’t know but I only hope that the next twelve months I manage to make more interesting!

SOS: Save Our Spaghetti!

Since I was 8 one of my favourite meals has been spaghetti on toast. Not any spaghetti of course, I’m talking about pasta shapes in tomato sauce. There have been many over the years, The Simpsons, Ghostbusters, Robot Wars, Scooby Doo, Spiderman even Bagpuss (I’ll never be grown up enough for plain old spaghetti hoops!)

Throughout my teen years and Uni this meal evolved into breakfast. If I had a long day ahead I’d whack the microwave on for two minutes, slam in the bread and await one of my favourite feasts. Lately HP’s Scooby Doo shapes with BBQ sausages had been a firm favourite.

Then, last week, breakfast rolled around. Innocently I made my breakfast, sat at the table and tucked in. It ended up with me rushing for the sink holding the vomit down. I thought the spaghetti had gone off but on closer inspection I noticed that HP now had a new, no added salt and no sugar recipe. While it may be healthy it tasted vile. I tried a second can in case it was just a dodgy batch. Nope, just as bad. I switched to new Branston Spaghetti which also boasted the kid friendly no-additives label, sure enough just as vile.

Now I’m worried. At the moment Heinz is my last hope for breakfast. All is well but it’s only a matter of time before they go down the healthy route. Does this spell the end for my near 20-year favourite meal?

Good Food/Bad Food

So last week in a news story straight out of The Simpsons we were told that soft drinks were deadly but we wouldn’t be told which brands were the offenders. Today comes the news that more than two cups of coffee a day will kill you. (See todays Times.) It seems that scientists are on a mission to prove that everything we ever touch or use will kill us. The soft drink scare doesn’t particularly bother me I’ve found myself drinking more water and cordials (one of my favourite words) in the last 12 months anyway. The coffee one does. I’m a coffee-a-holic. Starbucks is my temple.

What’s more annoying is that the boffins do tend to contradict themselves. Crisps are more risky to eat than an apple as far as fat content goes but then again a bag of crisps have more vitamin C than an apple. A plate of chips has less calories than chocolate but if you’re on the Atkins diet chips are a no no.

I’m just sick of scientists telling us what’s bad or deadly for us. Instead of wasting time and energy telling us what, to be honest is bloody obvious. Why can’t they spend their time searching for cures for cancer, aids or heart disease?

When Is Sex, Sex?

Has to be said I was left a little confused by two stories that appeared in Radio One’s Newsbeat this morning. The first was that men now need permission from drunken women to sleep with them on a one night stand otherwise it can be considered rape. Nanny state overkill really. When you’re both blind drunk and mid-fumble you’re hardly going to stop the passion to ask permission for sex, let alone ensure you’ve got a Dictaphone and necessary paperwork to make it legally binding.

The second story was that a woman is fighting the courts refusal to let her use frozen embryos that she created with her ex-boyfriend. Because he is now refusing to let her as he feels as they’re no longer in a relationship he doesn’t want the legal or emotional dependence these kids will force upon him.

Emotionally I feel very sorry for her if this is genuinely her last chance to conceive however, when this story is put in context with the previous one it screams of double standards.

It’s OK for a woman to call drunken one night sex rape if she hasn’t been asked permission, which morally is as it should be. However a man is being dragged through the courts and challenged because he hasn’t granted permission for his embryos to be used by his ex-girlfriend.

I just feel that if a woman hasn’t given permission for sex it’s rape then if he hasn’t given permission for his embryos to be used couldn’t the same judgement be made?

I'm Tired

It’s back. An obsession, a compulsion that grips me and takes over me. I last had this craving in 2002 at university but this morning it returned and I’m worried it’s yet to get worse.

It even affects me when I’m not doing it. I used to sit in lectures sketching out ideas and scribbling down action plans for this disorder. Visitng the real subjects of this disorder filled me with ideas to try out once I got home.

What is it? Well, rather embarrassingly it’s Rollercoaster Tycoon on the PC. At uni I was addicted to this game. I regularly stayed up all night absorbed in the game, micromanaging my finances and trying out new coaster designs.

Last year Rollercoaster 3 came out. It’s the Ferrari version of the game making the original of the game I played at uni look like a battered old Skoda. For some reason it didn’t grip me as much though and I was able to play it in controlled doses.

Yesterday I got the new expansion pack – ‘Wild’. I innocently installed it onto my PC and played for an hour. All was well then at midnight after Miss Smeg had gone to bed I returned to my PC. Five hours later I got to bed.

The scary thing is when I woke up this morning my first thought wasn’t about getting my normal cup of coffee or checking the post it was a brilliant idea to improve the coaster I’d built at 4am.

I’ve fought it though – I’ve decided to come online and catch up on the forums and write the pub quiz. Mind you. I do wonder if placing an entertainer by the exit would encourage more guests to stay in the park…

Strictly Crap TV

Why is it that for every cracking, well-produced piece of Television there are another 20 pieces of absolute guff. For every Life On Mars or Doctor Who there’s 20 different soaps or property shows and for every Spooks or Teachers there’s a reality show or, the latest worrying trend celebrity talent shows.

Think of all the thought that must go into a fine piece of drama. Compare that with the sheer simplicity of coming up with Celebrity Talent Shows. I could do it:

Strictly Stand Up – just in time for the next Red Nose Day 10 celebs compete over a number of weeks to have the funniest stand up routine. They are trained by masters such as Eddie Izzard or Peter Kay and have to write a routine to random subject every week.

Fast Food Frenzy – Celebs have to knock up a mouth-watering dish each week under the watchful eyes of expert chefs. One week it will be Italian cuisine the next Chinese.

Strictly Come Cleaning – Kim and Aggie preside over the show where celebrity teams run home cleaning services. Each week they battle it out over who can give their house the best sparkle.

‘You Spin Me Round’ – 6 Celebs, each with a famous DJ. They have a half hour set to entertain the crowds at a different club each week with the finale being a whole party Djing event at someones birthday or wedding.


And for the channel five market:

Strictly Come. I think you can guess what happens here…

P.S. All these ideas are Strictly Copyright smeg_head 2006. Royalties please….

One Flew Over The Bird Flu's Mess

What a load of guff. Seriously it is.

Put it in perspective, roughly 3000 people die each day of Malaria. 50,000 on average die each year of regular flu. 300 died in the SARS flap a few years back. So why oh why is the media so obsessed with scaring the ignorant with tales of Bird Flu - of which only 92 people have dies of in history.

Those people that have contracted the disease have been in close personal contact with birds on a daily basis. Tales of people no longer eating poultry is absolute stupidity. By cooking the meat correctly you kill off any bacteria and virus contained in the bird. So what’s the fuss?

Well it could mutate say the tabloids - no doubt egged on by Beechams and Lemsip. Yes it could but its been rife in the east for some time now and shows no sign of mutating into an airborne virus. Even if it does we already have the top boffins in the medical world no doubt researching the virus and coming up with treatments.

So there’s no big deal - besides, I could do with a week off work.

iPod, Therefore iAm

It finally came this week. My new shiny slimline black iPod. Within half an hour of Mr Parcel force dropping it off the music was uploaded and playlists organised and I realised how much I missed it. It has taken me almost two months to justify spending the money on it but since my iPod mini died there has been that little gap of sound in my life. My walkman has proven very bulky in my pockets and having to buy singles full price from woolies or burn them from iTunes is more expensive than just using the pod.

In the space of 7 days my life has been transformed. I’ve not just rediscovered the Pod, I’ve rediscovered music. My iPod mini was full to bursting – my new Pod video offers loads of empty gigs which means I can dig out old favourite albums that have been gathering dust. The Queen back catalogue and my chill out collection are now podded up. The Ghostbusters soundtrack and more embarrassingly the soundtrack to the 1986 film Little Shop Of Horrors. (I Love that film!)

It’s been a sheer joy to listen to tracks that haven’t had the honour of gracing my CD system since I left for uni and started limiting myself to carrying round just my favourites. Whoever said that the iPod was killing music is wrong. It’s reawakening it.

Double Oh No!

Some vocal fans of the James Bond series have threatened to boycott the newest film in the franchise, Casino Royale.
The fans in question seem to be outraged over the casting of Daniel Craig as the suave spy 007 and have even set up a site urging fans to boycott the film due to the decision. The web site, www.craignotbond.com, calls on fans "to stop Sony and Eon [Productions] from ruining the future of James Bond by hiring Daniel Craig".
Good on them I say. The Bond franchise has nose dived since the abortion that was Die Another Die. Bond bumbled his way through the film and was saved by luck and gadgets - it was a joke. The true Fleming bond would rely on cunning and intelligence, he certainly wouldn't have let a woman like Jinx get in the way.

I must be balanced however. While I agree that Daniel Craig looks a poor bond I have heard many great things about the script. So I won’t be boycotting Casino Royale, just praying that Eon’s lead choice wins me over.

P.S. Happy birthday Alison!

One Love

Just a quicky to say a big, big thank you to Radio One. The last few days of music have been amazing. Just wish they’d learn to ditch their repetitive playlist a little more often. The best of Brit music has highlighted how much damn good stuff these fair isles produce musically. A far cry from the bland R&B Radio 1 normally showcases.

Ghost Town?

Last year Hereford Council decided to set up a temporary maze in one of the main shopping areas of the city. Of course it wasn’t advertised as a maze instead it was billed as the ‘Eign Gate redevelopment project’. A multimillion-pound fund to transform and spruce up one of Hereford’s oldest streets. It led to months of frustration as 6ft mesh fences ‘protected’ shoppers from the dangers of scruffy workmen digging holes in the floor. Of course this led to the usual walkway of about 30ft across being restricted to just 5ft. While the walkway narrowed the number of shoppers didn’t. It turned into a seven day a week rugby scrum and slowly but surely it effected the patience of shoppers who soon learned to avoid the crush. Now we have a posh new street but the number of shops have plummeted. The pound shop, a local computer firm, a health shop and a national shoe chain have all had to close up due to lack of people during the works. To add insult to injury the brand new pavement is now being dug up by an electricity company.

Do the council seem concerned by traders going out of business as a direct result of their actions? Nope. Rent rates have now increased causing a number of other shops to mumble about imminent closure and the council have reopened the ‘maze’ in a new section of town.

I’m one of the people that can’t be bothered with the city anymore. All my buying is now online. It’s quicker and a lot cheaper. I’m a fast walker and get irritated by the cramped conditions where work is being carried out. If that’s not enough once you get into High Town you’re met with the clutter of a coffee and potato stall blocking what was once a wide walkway. Travel further through and you have the Chuggers Chicane – the zig zag you have to walk to avoid the charity clipboard holders pestering you for your money. When you finally get to the shops the prices are stupidly high to try and cover increasing rent, electricity and staff costs.

Now a further £2million pound scheme has been announced to transform the city centre. Problem is, by the time its finished will there be a shop left to visit?

Wardrobe Watch | Day 5

Thanks to a hectic weekend I wasn’t able to do much on my ‘robes. Today I’ve had all morning to feel all manly with a variety of tools, wood glue and screws.
The result? Well despite following the instructions to the letter. (I’ve checked and double checked!) It appears there is a slight problem…



Yep. The drawers don’t fit. Back to the drawing board…

Wardrobe Wranglings

Ahh it’s been a saga of the new house for the last few months. Twice we tried having Wardrobes from Argos and twice they arrived damaged. So we’ve turned to MFI. Slighty more costly but hopefully better quality. Indeed they have the good sense of putting the product into a number of packages rather than cramming it into one.

Anyway the new ‘robes finally arrived on Friday. Sadly I’ve discovered that they are to be the biggest and most complicated flat packed assembly I have ever attempted. Instructions like ‘Insert fliboozle A into part 592 while rotating duringle Y with sprocket #2 are definitely not written to aid a quick build.

So how far have I got since Friday? We’ll I’m here:



As you can see the basic structure of Robe 1 is now assembled and it is indeed holding an item of clothing…. Sadly it’s missing doors, a number of drawers and some screws. (I'm still assembling the drawers. You wouldn't think they'd be that hard would you!) Robe 2 is currently downstairs still in packaging hogging the living room (the only decent space we have for storing such a big item.)

I will keep you updated on this mass construction project.

It's Hard Being A SF Fan

Over the last few weeks we’ve had an explosion of Science Fiction on television. Never has the schedules creaked with the weight of so much programming pitched into my favourite genre. We’ve got the excellent Life On Mars, the return of the amazing Battlestar Galactica and Smallville. There’s the okish Invasion and The Eleventh Hour (which ITV insist is not SF – despite a loads of genre concepts.) Finally there’s the awful Hyperdrive. Never has a show with so much promise failed so spectacularly to be funny.

This SF televisual attack is accompanied by the reviews. Sadly, as ever it has provided the critics chance to trot out all those over used clichés about SF fans. Caitlin Moran attacked Red Dwarf fans as the geeky I.T. type while A.A. Gill had a slightly more vicious swipe:

"The good thing about sci-fi, is that it attracts unarguably the least discriminating, the most tunnel-visioned yet loyal audience of any oeuvre in any medium... People who read sci-fi read little else. Star Wars fans are a weird closed society, bearable only to each other."

So what if I read little else? I like what I like. I've read and enjoyed Dickens, I've read Of Mice & Men and Pride & Prejudice but none of it grabs me like SF does.

And what of the television? Just because I don't rot my brain in front of utter dross like Eastenders or the latest football match as the masses do - i.e. the 'norm' and 'socially acceptable' I'm deemed as a deviant.

How can Star Wars be a closed society? It's one of the biggest cultural phenomenon’s of the 20th century - completely redefining cinema for a whole generation.

In fact he seems to ignore the fact that apart from Sudoku and the Rubix Cube many of the big cultural influences over the last fifty years have been SF based. We've had the X-Files, Star Wars and Star Trek. All adding buzzwords and phrases to the lexicon. Dr Who has forever changed the way a nation feels about 1950's Police Boxes and pepper pots. We've had a boy wizard and a quest for a ring. Every summer Channel 4 grabs viewers with Big Brother - a concept straight from a 1948 SF novel. Also every summer cinemas are overrun with the blockbusters – many being SF. (In fact out of the top 20 highest grossing movies of all time 16 are science fiction.)

Going back to his quote about SF fans reading little else. Why would we need to? It’s such an open genre. It’s not restricted to any setting or era. It can be a Western, a romance or a Thriller. It has everything. Also read other literature you’ll normally find the story to be enclosed. A neat little package centred around one or two characters in a few locations. Once you’ve finished it’s normally all wrapped up with nothing left to chew over.

SF grabs the reader. It makes you question life and existence. The plots aren’t normally about whether Miss Elaine will get her wicked but blushing way with Mr Larcy and little else. Instead they challenge religion, death, & society. Sometimes you can leave a SF book with unanswered questions but still find it rewarding.

I know exactly which tunnel A.A. Gill is getting his vision from – perhaps he should pull his head out of it.

Down In The Mouth

I’ve had the same dentist since I can remember. She’s spent 24 years moulding my mouth. Imagine then my disappointment when she left the Florida House, Hereford Practice. (Though I suspect she was pushed.) The sensible thing would have been the hiring of a new dentist to take on her existing clients. They didn’t. Instead the practice decided to divide her clients between the two remaining dental surgeons. They couldn’t cope. Twice I’ve had by six-month check up cancelled and moved but this week came the final straw. I arrived for my 6 months check up (13 months since my last) to be told I am no longer a patient.

“We’ve taken about 2000 people of our books, you should have received a letter.” Said the girl on reception. (I hadn’t received a letter by the way.)

“What was the criteria to be removed from you books?” I asked.

“None, just completely random.”

So despite never missing an appointment some random person in my dental practice has decided that I will no longer get decent oral hygiene. Someone has decided how healthy I will be without even bothering to actually ask me. Computer really has said ‘no’.

The Art Of Noise

In 25 years of life I’ve been lucky. I’ve never had the problems of noisy neighbours.

OK there was once the time, in my Hall Of Residence days at uni when I could clearly hear my neighbour in the throes of orgasm but when you’re 19 and she’s mildly attractive it really isn’t a problem. There was also the time at Flat 4 when the person above seemed to be tacking his carpet down at 3 am in the morning. The rhythmic tapping slowly moving across the ceiling.

In the last two nights however we’ve had neighbour noise. The thing is, they’ve been very comical. At 1.30am yesterday morning we discovered that next door obviously isn’t unoccupied as a loud row broke out. Cries of ‘Stupid Girl!’ in a Spanish accent were heard while Turkish shouting back echoed through the walls in relpy. It was a full-blown domestic and rather than slap the wall in anger I was drawn in. It was gripping stuff but ended with the female voice protesting to just ‘let her go to sleep’. (Tut tut – you should never go to sleep on an argument. Haven’t you ever read Clare Rayner!?)

This morning was bizarre, and from a different house. At approximately 3am I went down to get a drink. I could hear music but didn’t know where from. It wasn’t from either of ‘nextdoors’. Returning to the bedroom I eased open the window to have my ears assaulted with the very loud sounds of Irish Folk Music. (Good to see our double glazing works though, it was doing a damn fine job at stopping the sound!) I listened in pure bemusement as the song proclaiming support for Protestants drifted across the night. The sound was coming from the next street – I’m guessing the house whose light was on. I could hear the occasional muffled banging of irritated neighbours. What did I do? I laughed. At 3am the last sort of loud music you expect is Irish Folk. Perhaps party anthems or dance? It was the sounds of either a house party gone very wrong or a pissed up old Irishman remembering the good old days. After a while he obviously got the message of repeated banging and the music died away.

They say stuff comes in threes. So tomorrow at 2am I’m looking forward to the Salvation Army just opposite us digging out their tubas and encouraging the street into a belated and highly ironic rendition of ‘Silent Night’.

Liberal Decision?

So farewell Charles Kennedy, leader of the Liberal Democrat party. Once again proof that honesty is the last thing on politician’s minds. How refreshing that political figure admits he has a problem, a personal frailty. It was good to see him open and honest – being human. How predictable that his party instantly turned against him. It would make such a nice change to have an honest man as leader. Blair is allowed to get away with his WMD lies and nine years of relentless spin yet one man admits he is leading a brave fight against a personal illness and he is instantly dismissed.

Welcome to the fair world of politics…

RiP(od)

Alas the time has come. On the 1st Jan 2006 at approximately 7.15pm my iPod mini passed away. It wasn’t a peaceful passing. It was accompanied by a strange whirring sound and a sad face screen. Now, when plugged in it becomes unusually hot. Despite trying the 5Rs I was unable to rescue poor mini Pod from oblivion.

It’s been used well – many DJ gigs have benefited from its existence it’s even saved me when one of my CD players died a while back. Anyway I decided to log on for a service and discovered that apple would charge me £130 for the privilege.

So here’s the dilemma. If I’m spending that much I might as well buy a new one. (Which, no doubt, is Apple’s plan all along.) In doing so I lose my iPod mini (which is no longer produced) and have to opt for either a nano. (Far too small and flimsy looking for my liking.) Or a video iPod. (Very sexy.)

But there’s another problem. I no longer have the disposable income I used to have. So can I justify buying this luxury item? It does help at Djing but if I have all the CD’s anyway what’s the point? Hmm I can listen to it in my pocket walking round town – sure but my phone has an FM radio which I can (and often do) use.

Oh well. Farewell iPod mini. You will be missed.