Elected !
Well....it’s that time of the year again. Local democracy once more rears its bloodied and battered head and sticks it forlornly over the parapet.
I must to admit to once being fascinated by all the swings, predictions, shocks and late night TV associated with politics both local and national, but, these days its all I can do to muster the strength to walk to polling booth. The fact that its just over the road from my local makes it feel a little churlish though, not to pop in and do my bit as I head bar-wards.
The reason for my lethargy is probably echoed all over the country. In a word: Spin !
There hasn’t been any passion in politics for such a long time. Now its been hijacked by managerial consultants and their ilk who have brought business-bollox-speak to a committee room near you. Psephologists can pontificate and speculate about the reasons for the continuing drop in turnout year after year, but the ordinary punter is wise enough to hear absolute patronising crap when s/he hears it......and votes with his/her feet !
Here in North Manchester things are probably going to be a little different this year though. In Oldham there are a record number of BNP and NF candidates standing in a borough that, a mere two years ago, was ablaze with race riots.
There’s no doubt in my mind that if the mainstream Parties don’t address perceived grievances – in some cases even stifle debate about them for fear of appearing ‘politically incorrect’, then they shouldn’t be surprised when other Parties (no matter how odious their views) hove into view promising solutions.
One thing’s for sure, tomorrow’s election should be a damn site more interesting than they have been for the past 10 years or so.
It would be sad though if Oldham Athletic gain promotion to the 1st division at the same time as the electorate of Oldham vote neo-Fascists into the council chamber.
Taxman
My mother and father have been retired a good few years. My Dad spends his days at home still trying to come to terms with the PC my youngest built for him a few years ago. My Mam has always needed to keep busy and she frequently does a little part-time work in the industry she spent her life in (upholsterer’s machinist).
Last November she was approached by an Upholsterer who worked for a Facilities Management company that renovated pubs. They provided all the craftsmen and women, Labour etc., that could turn a tired old pub into a tired, new shadow of its former self. You know the type of thing: false Olde Worlde charm, prints on the wall and pints of cold lager on the bar.
Anyway, this went on until last month when my Mam parted company with them. All the time she had worked there they deducted the full rate of income tax with NO allowances whatsoever.
“Don’t worry Mam” I said, “we’ll claim it all back – you’ll have quite a tidy little sum coming. Could arrive in time for your holidays”
We went on the Inland Revenue website and extracted the relevant information.
With a bit of luck we will have understood and filled in the form, posted it to Fife Inland Revenue Office (they look after the Manchester area !), replied to – no doubt – numerous queries emanating from that corner of Scotland and finally received the relevant monies due by.........ooooh.........2005 I reckon.
So to whoever it is who writes the pamphlets that are supposed to help, as well as those who actually formulate the forms that people need to fill in to claim anything, I’ll repeat the quote from Pete Seeger I referred to a couple of weeks ago:-
Any damn fool can get complicated; it takes genius to keep things simple.
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Hard Times
During these days of so-called enlightened management in the workplace, how nice to see that some things just never change. For a good old dose of nostalgia for anyone as long-in-the-tooth as I, today’s BBC news website takes the biscuit. The relevant bits follow:-
“Struggling steelmaker Corus is to cut 1,150 jobs as it battles to stem losses in the UK. The future of a further 2,200 workers on Teesside remains in doubt.
Sir Brian Moffatt and other senior directors faced accusations of incompetence and mismanagement during the company’s AGM. One shareholder said the Corus board of directors was the worst in the world.
He said they should resign en masse because of a series of "blunders" which had depressed the company's share value. Other speakers accused the board of showing disregard to workers who felt "alienated and let down".
The board was asked to explain why bonuses were being paid to executives this year amid huge losses and job cuts. The majority of shareholders attending the meeting in London voted against accepting the remuneration report from the company. (My italics.)
But proxy votes meant that the policy was overwhelmingly accepted.”(My italics)
Now that’s what I call taking the piss !!
Link. A Photograph of You
There was a semi-decent documentary on the, always interesting, BBC Four TV channel last night. Robert Capa, war photographer, founder of the Magnum photo agency and original champagne socialist deserved a channel with more consumer penetration, but the consumers were probably watching *absorbing* crap like this.
According to all the old women interviewed, and contemporary accounts from the likes of Capa’s one-time lover Ingrid Bergman, he was a good-looking, sensual and sensitive man. Sadly – I felt – the doc concentrated just a little too much on this aspect of his short life.
He was an extremely brave man and one of those photographers whose photographs many will recognise. From the first wave of landings in Normandy 1944, to the early blitzkriegs of the Spanish Civil War, Capa observed and recorded the major wars of the twentieth century. He finally shuffled off his mortal coil after standing on a land mine in Vietnam.
I’ve ordered his biography – should make good reading.
Stormy Weather
Some exceptionally impressive thunderstorms today in North Manchester, with more promised.
During these days of so-called enlightened management in the workplace, how nice to see that some things just never change. For a good old dose of nostalgia for anyone as long-in-the-tooth as I, today’s BBC news website takes the biscuit. The relevant bits follow:-
“Struggling steelmaker Corus is to cut 1,150 jobs as it battles to stem losses in the UK. The future of a further 2,200 workers on Teesside remains in doubt.
Sir Brian Moffatt and other senior directors faced accusations of incompetence and mismanagement during the company’s AGM. One shareholder said the Corus board of directors was the worst in the world.
He said they should resign en masse because of a series of "blunders" which had depressed the company's share value. Other speakers accused the board of showing disregard to workers who felt "alienated and let down".
The board was asked to explain why bonuses were being paid to executives this year amid huge losses and job cuts. The majority of shareholders attending the meeting in London voted against accepting the remuneration report from the company. (My italics.)
But proxy votes meant that the policy was overwhelmingly accepted.”(My italics)
Now that’s what I call taking the piss !!
Link. A Photograph of You
There was a semi-decent documentary on the, always interesting, BBC Four TV channel last night. Robert Capa, war photographer, founder of the Magnum photo agency and original champagne socialist deserved a channel with more consumer penetration, but the consumers were probably watching *absorbing* crap like this.
According to all the old women interviewed, and contemporary accounts from the likes of Capa’s one-time lover Ingrid Bergman, he was a good-looking, sensual and sensitive man. Sadly – I felt – the doc concentrated just a little too much on this aspect of his short life.
He was an extremely brave man and one of those photographers whose photographs many will recognise. From the first wave of landings in Normandy 1944, to the early blitzkriegs of the Spanish Civil War, Capa observed and recorded the major wars of the twentieth century. He finally shuffled off his mortal coil after standing on a land mine in Vietnam.
I’ve ordered his biography – should make good reading.
Stormy Weather
Some exceptionally impressive thunderstorms today in North Manchester, with more promised.
Monday, April 28, 2003
Art for Art's Sake
As myself and my eldest returned from Maine Rd yesterday, we walked through Whitworth Park. At the Oxford Rd end of this park lies Whitworth Art Gallery. At the back of Whitworth Art Gallery we spotted two policemen looking relaxed and enjoying a chat during a brief period of sunshine that had blessed an otherwise slate grey day. At first I thought "are they having a crafty smoke ?", but then I thought "no its probably just scrotes have been trying to break in through the back door to steal something to fuel their drug habit". It was only as we got closer I noticed two women crouching by the door with the paraphanelia of fingerprint-dusting laid out around them.
Later, as we listened to the news, we realised it had been this audacious theft we had walked past. I must say if someone had succesfully purloined pictures by three of the masters of 19th and 20th century art on my patch, I would have tried to have looked a little less calm and composed. The mini masterpieces were later found, after a tip-off, in a local public toilet.
It beggars belief that whoever did it thought they could easily sell the stuff. But what I find even more unbelievable is that there's still a public toilet open in Manchester !
In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning
So, last night at about 4:30am, my Dearest decides to go downstairs to get a glass of water. Deep in the fug of sleep, I can hear someone punching in the 4 number code for our burglar alarm. I then hear the beep that indicates the wrong code has been entered. Seconds later - the same again. By this time I'm fully awake and thinking "do that wrong again and the alarm will go off".
Sure enough, the alarm bursts into life.
I end up having to dive out of bed, find my glasses, dressing gown and run down the stairs. After I had punched in the correct code my wife explained that: "I didn't have my glasses on and had to guess where the correct numbers were".
So my wife gets her drink of water and goes straight back to sleep. Me ? I lie there until gone 6:00am, eyes wide open, mind full of jumble and time for work fast approaching. I'm sick of being knackered.
As myself and my eldest returned from Maine Rd yesterday, we walked through Whitworth Park. At the Oxford Rd end of this park lies Whitworth Art Gallery. At the back of Whitworth Art Gallery we spotted two policemen looking relaxed and enjoying a chat during a brief period of sunshine that had blessed an otherwise slate grey day. At first I thought "are they having a crafty smoke ?", but then I thought "no its probably just scrotes have been trying to break in through the back door to steal something to fuel their drug habit". It was only as we got closer I noticed two women crouching by the door with the paraphanelia of fingerprint-dusting laid out around them.
Later, as we listened to the news, we realised it had been this audacious theft we had walked past. I must say if someone had succesfully purloined pictures by three of the masters of 19th and 20th century art on my patch, I would have tried to have looked a little less calm and composed. The mini masterpieces were later found, after a tip-off, in a local public toilet.
It beggars belief that whoever did it thought they could easily sell the stuff. But what I find even more unbelievable is that there's still a public toilet open in Manchester !
In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning
So, last night at about 4:30am, my Dearest decides to go downstairs to get a glass of water. Deep in the fug of sleep, I can hear someone punching in the 4 number code for our burglar alarm. I then hear the beep that indicates the wrong code has been entered. Seconds later - the same again. By this time I'm fully awake and thinking "do that wrong again and the alarm will go off".
Sure enough, the alarm bursts into life.
I end up having to dive out of bed, find my glasses, dressing gown and run down the stairs. After I had punched in the correct code my wife explained that: "I didn't have my glasses on and had to guess where the correct numbers were".
So my wife gets her drink of water and goes straight back to sleep. Me ? I lie there until gone 6:00am, eyes wide open, mind full of jumble and time for work fast approaching. I'm sick of being knackered.
Sunday, April 27, 2003
Friday, April 25, 2003
Matthew and Son (The Work’s Never Done)
Well....what a crap day at work. Firstly I had to go in early to attend a meeting in lieu of my boss. He’s picked the worst day (weather-wise) to go playing golf with my other colleague form the office - but, hey, that's life. Consequently it was just me dealing with everything.
It’s Sod’s Law though isn’t it ? The less staff, the more problems. “I need this laptop sorting today as I fly out to the States this evening”; “ This can’t possibly wait as I’ve an important presentation (yeah...right) to give in 45 mins”. Etc., Etc., Etc.
Mission Impossible
I remember a manufacturing industry where people used to manufacture stuff. Today that seems to be an alien concept. Engineering factories that were full of men, women (children ;-)) and machines. Noisy, dirty places. Teeming with people who created stuff ! You could actually understand the function of people from manager to labourer. You could grasp the nature of their toil, see what they produced and get your head round the fact what they produced – stuff – could be sold at a profit (or a loss admittedly).
The ‘manufactory’ where I have worked for so many years has now become significantly less noisy. It is painted in bright colours – even the floors. It is devoid of ‘producers’ and chock-full of middle-managers producing presentations, reports, graphs, forecasts, business-models. Paper....paper.....paper......
This results in constant re-organisation of the business. Which results in a constant search for the next “Mission Statement”.
Now don’t get me wrong – I’m all for anything that keeps the loyal worker focussed on the task in hand and, if a mission statement helps in this regard, then who am I to pooh-pooh the concept. I’m sure that all over the country people are busily discussing ‘best-practice’ and ‘being the benchmark’. I’m sure that, once the new Mission Statement has been formulated productivity increases no end. The trouble is, that productivity these days produces paper and not stuff.
The way that all this tired ‘80s business-speak bollox has filtered into our everyday lives was rammed home to me a few years ago whilst I was driving through Lancaster centre.
On the outskirts of the city there was a, frankly, struggling car-repair business. It had that look of imminent-closure-extremely-possible about it. Peeling paintwork, ancient automobiles dotted around the place and.............a Mission Statement proudly painted on a board tacked – almost as an afterthought – underneath the dilapidated “Jones and Son” sign.
“To be the benchmark for car repair that other car-repairers aspire to”.
Something like that anyway. It was gloriously comical. You could imagine Del-Boy doing the same on the side of his ‘Trotters Independent Traders’ Robin Reliant. It was patently never going to be the benchmark for anything but a business on the skids. There was a touching faith, it seemed to me, that this guy had in the nonsense that was bandied about back then. The same nonsense that brought us the ‘lunch is for wimps’ crap and the breakfast meetings that managers started calling at 6:00am to show how tough and dedicated to the company they were. Many of them now redundant of course !
I must go back to Lancaster one day to see if its still in business.
Well....what a crap day at work. Firstly I had to go in early to attend a meeting in lieu of my boss. He’s picked the worst day (weather-wise) to go playing golf with my other colleague form the office - but, hey, that's life. Consequently it was just me dealing with everything.
It’s Sod’s Law though isn’t it ? The less staff, the more problems. “I need this laptop sorting today as I fly out to the States this evening”; “ This can’t possibly wait as I’ve an important presentation (yeah...right) to give in 45 mins”. Etc., Etc., Etc.
Mission Impossible
I remember a manufacturing industry where people used to manufacture stuff. Today that seems to be an alien concept. Engineering factories that were full of men, women (children ;-)) and machines. Noisy, dirty places. Teeming with people who created stuff ! You could actually understand the function of people from manager to labourer. You could grasp the nature of their toil, see what they produced and get your head round the fact what they produced – stuff – could be sold at a profit (or a loss admittedly).
The ‘manufactory’ where I have worked for so many years has now become significantly less noisy. It is painted in bright colours – even the floors. It is devoid of ‘producers’ and chock-full of middle-managers producing presentations, reports, graphs, forecasts, business-models. Paper....paper.....paper......
This results in constant re-organisation of the business. Which results in a constant search for the next “Mission Statement”.
Now don’t get me wrong – I’m all for anything that keeps the loyal worker focussed on the task in hand and, if a mission statement helps in this regard, then who am I to pooh-pooh the concept. I’m sure that all over the country people are busily discussing ‘best-practice’ and ‘being the benchmark’. I’m sure that, once the new Mission Statement has been formulated productivity increases no end. The trouble is, that productivity these days produces paper and not stuff.
The way that all this tired ‘80s business-speak bollox has filtered into our everyday lives was rammed home to me a few years ago whilst I was driving through Lancaster centre.
On the outskirts of the city there was a, frankly, struggling car-repair business. It had that look of imminent-closure-extremely-possible about it. Peeling paintwork, ancient automobiles dotted around the place and.............a Mission Statement proudly painted on a board tacked – almost as an afterthought – underneath the dilapidated “Jones and Son” sign.
“To be the benchmark for car repair that other car-repairers aspire to”.
Something like that anyway. It was gloriously comical. You could imagine Del-Boy doing the same on the side of his ‘Trotters Independent Traders’ Robin Reliant. It was patently never going to be the benchmark for anything but a business on the skids. There was a touching faith, it seemed to me, that this guy had in the nonsense that was bandied about back then. The same nonsense that brought us the ‘lunch is for wimps’ crap and the breakfast meetings that managers started calling at 6:00am to show how tough and dedicated to the company they were. Many of them now redundant of course !
I must go back to Lancaster one day to see if its still in business.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Watching The Detectives
Anybody out there read any Ian Rankin ? Inspector Rebus novels ? I've had them recommended to me, and I am deeply in need of some 'easy-ish reads' of late. I'm not usually one for crime fiction, but these sound quite intelligent.
Normally they just turn out to be whodunits. Victim pops their clogs on page 2 or 3 (or even before the book begins), and you're supposed to be interested in finding out who killed someone you never knew.
Anybody out there read any Ian Rankin ? Inspector Rebus novels ? I've had them recommended to me, and I am deeply in need of some 'easy-ish reads' of late. I'm not usually one for crime fiction, but these sound quite intelligent.
Normally they just turn out to be whodunits. Victim pops their clogs on page 2 or 3 (or even before the book begins), and you're supposed to be interested in finding out who killed someone you never knew.
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
Getting Better
A quiet day yesterday after the excesses and illness of the Easter weekend. Too much, curry, tagliatelli, ale, lager, wine and God-knows-what had left me intellectually and physically drained.
So back to work today after a crap night’s sleep. As I get older, I just can’t seem to drift off like I used to. All sorts of thoughts start churning through my head. When I do sleep it’ll be for a couple of hours then I wake again and lie there in a sort of semi-coma, dreaming and dreaming and dreaming and.......
Finally, when it’s time to get up, I end up knackered. Still – not a lot of work to do at the moment so I was able to drag myself through it. Could've been worse. I could've had a morning like this poor bugger. Had to grab 40 winks and dinner though.
Wonder where the phrase 40 winks comes from ?
The Chimes of Freedom
Still, thank God Iraq's been liberated and George will soon be able to salute a democratically-elected, religious government - almost like his own. A government probably overwhelmingly supported by the majority Shi'Ites. A majority that has been systematically persecuted by the minority Sunni's over the past 20 - odd years. I somehow can't see much scope for 'truth and reconciliation'.
Still - at least the elections should be democratic - unlike the one that gave us hanging chads and George Dubya.
Does history teach the statesmen of the world anything, do you think ? Why would the 'coalition' believe that, by creating a power-vacuum in Iraq, nobody would attempt to step into it until Jay and his chums were good and ready to let them ? Wherever you look when oppressive regimes are overthrown, (USSR and Yugoslavia for example), years of score-settling, political manouvreing and military opportunism rise to the surface. We're playing a dangerous game out there at the moment. I foresee a non-secular, democratically-elected government in Iraq. Possibly followed by a civil-war.
Anybody got any ideas how to prevent this ? I'd love to be able to say "go ahead - George and Tony are listening". But I don't think they are. Do you ?
A quiet day yesterday after the excesses and illness of the Easter weekend. Too much, curry, tagliatelli, ale, lager, wine and God-knows-what had left me intellectually and physically drained.
So back to work today after a crap night’s sleep. As I get older, I just can’t seem to drift off like I used to. All sorts of thoughts start churning through my head. When I do sleep it’ll be for a couple of hours then I wake again and lie there in a sort of semi-coma, dreaming and dreaming and dreaming and.......
Finally, when it’s time to get up, I end up knackered. Still – not a lot of work to do at the moment so I was able to drag myself through it. Could've been worse. I could've had a morning like this poor bugger. Had to grab 40 winks and dinner though.
Wonder where the phrase 40 winks comes from ?
The Chimes of Freedom
Still, thank God Iraq's been liberated and George will soon be able to salute a democratically-elected, religious government - almost like his own. A government probably overwhelmingly supported by the majority Shi'Ites. A majority that has been systematically persecuted by the minority Sunni's over the past 20 - odd years. I somehow can't see much scope for 'truth and reconciliation'.
Still - at least the elections should be democratic - unlike the one that gave us hanging chads and George Dubya.
Does history teach the statesmen of the world anything, do you think ? Why would the 'coalition' believe that, by creating a power-vacuum in Iraq, nobody would attempt to step into it until Jay and his chums were good and ready to let them ? Wherever you look when oppressive regimes are overthrown, (USSR and Yugoslavia for example), years of score-settling, political manouvreing and military opportunism rise to the surface. We're playing a dangerous game out there at the moment. I foresee a non-secular, democratically-elected government in Iraq. Possibly followed by a civil-war.
Anybody got any ideas how to prevent this ? I'd love to be able to say "go ahead - George and Tony are listening". But I don't think they are. Do you ?
Sunday, April 20, 2003
Meet the New Boss - Same as the Old Boss !
A few day’s gap as the vagaries of BT Openworld’s availability became a moot point and sickness, (probably due to over-indulgence), wiped me out.
In the meantime an excellent win for the blues down at White Hart Lane, the truth about the Government and Armed Forces’ use of loyalist paramilitaries to ‘take out’ selected Catholics during the eighties and the beginnings of Bush Baby’s real headache in Iraq. Whose going to end up with a radical Muslim government George ? Democracy eh ? It’s a bitch ain’t it ? Still it’s better than someone being in power who’s intolerant of other points of view, forces their own ‘code of conduct’ on the masses, tortures and murders petty criminals and (possibly) supports the aims and activities of Al-Qaida.
We’ve got friends coming to dinner this evening. 8 of us gathered round the table, making wine disappear very quickly and putting the world to rights – should be fun.
A few day’s gap as the vagaries of BT Openworld’s availability became a moot point and sickness, (probably due to over-indulgence), wiped me out.
In the meantime an excellent win for the blues down at White Hart Lane, the truth about the Government and Armed Forces’ use of loyalist paramilitaries to ‘take out’ selected Catholics during the eighties and the beginnings of Bush Baby’s real headache in Iraq. Whose going to end up with a radical Muslim government George ? Democracy eh ? It’s a bitch ain’t it ? Still it’s better than someone being in power who’s intolerant of other points of view, forces their own ‘code of conduct’ on the masses, tortures and murders petty criminals and (possibly) supports the aims and activities of Al-Qaida.
We’ve got friends coming to dinner this evening. 8 of us gathered round the table, making wine disappear very quickly and putting the world to rights – should be fun.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Top 'o' the World Ma!
Well Portsmouth have been promoted after beating Burnley 1-0. Todorov scoring after Merson missed a penalty. They had a pitch invasion at the end which was apparently 'good-humoured'. That's okay then. Last year City were threatened with having points deducted if there was a pitch invasion at Maine Road. Its alright for Pompey though - they're a cuddly, Southern club with nice, well-behaved fans.
Still, even so - good luck to them. I love this time of season when the promotion/relegation battles really start to hot up. It makes a change City not being involved. Since 1998 we have benn releagted to Division 2, Won promotion, via the playoffs, to Division 1. Been promoted to The Premiership. Been relegated from the Premiership and finally winning the First Division Championship last season. As a result this year seems a little flat. Even though its the last ever season at Maine Road.
Looking forward to the Easter hols. weather should be good and I've been working really hard the past couple of weeks. Viruses are bastards when the Virus Shield software you have on the comapnies 800 + PCs hasn't been updated for months. (Even though you've been assured that it has !)
Well Portsmouth have been promoted after beating Burnley 1-0. Todorov scoring after Merson missed a penalty. They had a pitch invasion at the end which was apparently 'good-humoured'. That's okay then. Last year City were threatened with having points deducted if there was a pitch invasion at Maine Road. Its alright for Pompey though - they're a cuddly, Southern club with nice, well-behaved fans.
Still, even so - good luck to them. I love this time of season when the promotion/relegation battles really start to hot up. It makes a change City not being involved. Since 1998 we have benn releagted to Division 2, Won promotion, via the playoffs, to Division 1. Been promoted to The Premiership. Been relegated from the Premiership and finally winning the First Division Championship last season. As a result this year seems a little flat. Even though its the last ever season at Maine Road.
Looking forward to the Easter hols. weather should be good and I've been working really hard the past couple of weeks. Viruses are bastards when the Virus Shield software you have on the comapnies 800 + PCs hasn't been updated for months. (Even though you've been assured that it has !)
Monday, April 14, 2003
Said I've been working from seven to eleven every night - it kinda makes my life a drag !
And after going to Maine Road for the last ever Saturday afternoon game, the only bit of enjoyment I could have had was cruelly robbed from me by the most inept performance from two Premier teams I think I've ever seen.
Sad though - my walk up to the Kippax will never happen again on a Saturday afternoon.
Let's hope we can put some perfromances worthy of the shirt in before May 11th.
Sunday, April 13, 2003
Saturday, April 12, 2003
"Won't Get Fooled Again!"
Bagdhad 11th April 2003:
"Mam.........mam ! Saddam's regime has been 'changed' - errrrrr......on account of the Yankees - I think !! ! We don't know what to, yet...like, but it looks like he's definately buggered off !".
"Eeeeee....thank Allah ! Son???? ....has law and order broken down out there on the streets"?
"Aye, it has Mam, aye"
"Oh good, oh, thank Allah for that. You don't think you could nip out and nick me a heart monitor and an incubator do you ? Go on....for your old mam!".
I Can See For MIles
Peter, over at NakedBlog.com, likes Mr Rumsfield. I must confess, until I read Peter's Blog today, I never realised that the squinting, be-spectacled, member of Bush Baby's "War Cabinet" was all of 70 years. Seems to me (from one of those: 'what do you think of Donald Rumsfield' conversations) that the young think he's incompetant, slow and brain-dead. All of us over 45, surely admire him for his ability to think on his feet in front of the entire world's press, function WITHOUT an autocue, and (apparently) attract women half his age. He's still an evil piece of work though - because he believes in dangerous bollix like THIS !
Them Old Cotton Fields Back Home
This being Friday, myself and my dearest have been in the Cotton Tree Public House. A functional, no-nonsense type of hostelry that can only be enjoyed on an early Friday evening. Its nice to know you've been in a pub that harks back to the North West's past - Cotton Spinning; and its nice to be in a place where you know a lot people from way back. You wouldn't go in there any other day of the week though.
Tonight we have Chris the barman. He does the afternoon shift (and finishes at 8:00pm). His wife was murdered about a mile away from where he now works. Killed by a scrote trying to nick her eldest son's bag. The bag contained dirty clothing and a few odds and sods - the son was just returning from a scout's weekend. The scrote tried to grab the bag, Chris' wife tried to stop him. One punch - down - dead !
On the other side of the bar is a man about my age who's daughter is now serving a prison sentence for this crime .
At the risk of sounding "Good-Old-Days-ish", I have to say that, 30 years ago, such a juxtaposition of two people, so linked by tragedy, in a town of 4,000+ people, in the same pub, living half a mile from each other, would - not have been unheard of maybe; but would attract more amazement that it could have happened in so small a place than it does today.
It Really makes me glad I don't live in Midsomer though !
Bagdhad 11th April 2003:
"Mam.........mam ! Saddam's regime has been 'changed' - errrrrr......on account of the Yankees - I think !! ! We don't know what to, yet...like, but it looks like he's definately buggered off !".
"Eeeeee....thank Allah ! Son???? ....has law and order broken down out there on the streets"?
"Aye, it has Mam, aye"
"Oh good, oh, thank Allah for that. You don't think you could nip out and nick me a heart monitor and an incubator do you ? Go on....for your old mam!".
I Can See For MIles
Peter, over at NakedBlog.com, likes Mr Rumsfield. I must confess, until I read Peter's Blog today, I never realised that the squinting, be-spectacled, member of Bush Baby's "War Cabinet" was all of 70 years. Seems to me (from one of those: 'what do you think of Donald Rumsfield' conversations) that the young think he's incompetant, slow and brain-dead. All of us over 45, surely admire him for his ability to think on his feet in front of the entire world's press, function WITHOUT an autocue, and (apparently) attract women half his age. He's still an evil piece of work though - because he believes in dangerous bollix like THIS !
Them Old Cotton Fields Back Home
This being Friday, myself and my dearest have been in the Cotton Tree Public House. A functional, no-nonsense type of hostelry that can only be enjoyed on an early Friday evening. Its nice to know you've been in a pub that harks back to the North West's past - Cotton Spinning; and its nice to be in a place where you know a lot people from way back. You wouldn't go in there any other day of the week though.
Tonight we have Chris the barman. He does the afternoon shift (and finishes at 8:00pm). His wife was murdered about a mile away from where he now works. Killed by a scrote trying to nick her eldest son's bag. The bag contained dirty clothing and a few odds and sods - the son was just returning from a scout's weekend. The scrote tried to grab the bag, Chris' wife tried to stop him. One punch - down - dead !
On the other side of the bar is a man about my age who's daughter is now serving a prison sentence for this crime .
At the risk of sounding "Good-Old-Days-ish", I have to say that, 30 years ago, such a juxtaposition of two people, so linked by tragedy, in a town of 4,000+ people, in the same pub, living half a mile from each other, would - not have been unheard of maybe; but would attract more amazement that it could have happened in so small a place than it does today.
It Really makes me glad I don't live in Midsomer though !
Thursday, April 10, 2003
With God on our side
"We are in a conflict between good and evil. And America will call evil by its name," Mr Bush told West Point graduates in a speech last year. In this battle, he placed his country firmly on the side of the angels. "There is wonder-working power in the goodness and idealism of the American people," he said in this year's State of the Union address.
Now, more than ever we need the likes of Francis Vincent, Gerry and John around to remind us that it might take a "genius to keep things simple, and any damn fool can get complicated.*", but sometimes, just sometimes you expect your leaders to comprehend the difficult bits. You know, the bits that take proper, fully-rounded and educated politicians years of study to understand and , hopefully, as a result, represent our interests in a way that won't revisit terrorist backlashes on us in years to come.
* I paraphrase Pete Seeger referring to Woodie Guthrie I believe. If you know different - let me know !
"Wonder-working !" - Straight out of the Ronald and Nancy Reagan book of rational thought.
In the meantime - I'll bless Michael Moore ! Keep it up that man !!
PS As I write (late), all the mp3s on my PC are set to random. At the moment - "Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence"; before "Working Class Hero", Zoot Allures", "The Road to Hell" and "Morning Dew" (The Long John Baldry version - guess you'd have to be British). All buggered up and widdershins. Knowing what I've got on my hard disk (all legal BTW !), from Debussy to Tom Waits, its almost as though this hunk of beige crap in front of me can read my mind on account of the bollix I write in this blog !
Go on - who can feel a screenplay coming on ? Inanimate object (PC), picks up all the nuances and peccadilloes of an ordinary person's life. Hmmmmmmm ! Sounds a bit like Amazon.com to me.
"We are in a conflict between good and evil. And America will call evil by its name," Mr Bush told West Point graduates in a speech last year. In this battle, he placed his country firmly on the side of the angels. "There is wonder-working power in the goodness and idealism of the American people," he said in this year's State of the Union address.
Now, more than ever we need the likes of Francis Vincent, Gerry and John around to remind us that it might take a "genius to keep things simple, and any damn fool can get complicated.*", but sometimes, just sometimes you expect your leaders to comprehend the difficult bits. You know, the bits that take proper, fully-rounded and educated politicians years of study to understand and , hopefully, as a result, represent our interests in a way that won't revisit terrorist backlashes on us in years to come.
* I paraphrase Pete Seeger referring to Woodie Guthrie I believe. If you know different - let me know !
"Wonder-working !" - Straight out of the Ronald and Nancy Reagan book of rational thought.
In the meantime - I'll bless Michael Moore ! Keep it up that man !!
PS As I write (late), all the mp3s on my PC are set to random. At the moment - "Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence"; before "Working Class Hero", Zoot Allures", "The Road to Hell" and "Morning Dew" (The Long John Baldry version - guess you'd have to be British). All buggered up and widdershins. Knowing what I've got on my hard disk (all legal BTW !), from Debussy to Tom Waits, its almost as though this hunk of beige crap in front of me can read my mind on account of the bollix I write in this blog !
Go on - who can feel a screenplay coming on ? Inanimate object (PC), picks up all the nuances and peccadilloes of an ordinary person's life. Hmmmmmmm ! Sounds a bit like Amazon.com to me.
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Cat's in the Cradle
Nicky Campbell ?? The man is an out-and-out workaholic. He's never off either the Radio or the TV. Given the nature of the programmes he presents, he obviously has to do a hell of a lot research as well. It's not as though he's a mere Wogan or somebody simply mouthing words from an autocue.
Today, for example: Breakfast Show on 5Live 6:00 - 9:00 am - reporting on pretty momentous news. One minute being witty and flirting (and showing off frankly) with Ms Derbyshire, the next interviewing pretty high-powered movers and shakers in the current situation in the middle-east.
Last Night - there he was on Watchdog on BBC1 - a show that is pretty much - if not completely - live. This after 3 hours of a live breakfast show. Tonight I turn on 5LIve....and there he is again presenting a 'special' to commemorate the fall of Baghdad or something.
Nicky ! You should be spending at least some quality time with the daughters you're always talking about on the show. Remember what happened to the guy in the Harry Chapin song in the heading !
If you don't know what happens, perhaps you and your girls could get together, do some research and find out - as a family !
Nicky Campbell ?? The man is an out-and-out workaholic. He's never off either the Radio or the TV. Given the nature of the programmes he presents, he obviously has to do a hell of a lot research as well. It's not as though he's a mere Wogan or somebody simply mouthing words from an autocue.
Today, for example: Breakfast Show on 5Live 6:00 - 9:00 am - reporting on pretty momentous news. One minute being witty and flirting (and showing off frankly) with Ms Derbyshire, the next interviewing pretty high-powered movers and shakers in the current situation in the middle-east.
Last Night - there he was on Watchdog on BBC1 - a show that is pretty much - if not completely - live. This after 3 hours of a live breakfast show. Tonight I turn on 5LIve....and there he is again presenting a 'special' to commemorate the fall of Baghdad or something.
Nicky ! You should be spending at least some quality time with the daughters you're always talking about on the show. Remember what happened to the guy in the Harry Chapin song in the heading !
If you don't know what happens, perhaps you and your girls could get together, do some research and find out - as a family !
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Fergie left red-faced after Real extract the Michael !
Madrid 3 - 1 Man United
Real should have had 2 penalties and the clown in United's net should have been sent off for handling outside his area. Will 3-1 be enough to consign the Vodaphone team to another European Trophy-less season ? I don't know. All they have to do is win 2-0 at Old Trafford and they're through. C'mon you Whites !!
Madrid 3 - 1 Man United
Real should have had 2 penalties and the clown in United's net should have been sent off for handling outside his area. Will 3-1 be enough to consign the Vodaphone team to another European Trophy-less season ? I don't know. All they have to do is win 2-0 at Old Trafford and they're through. C'mon you Whites !!
Bad Vibrations
I was listening to Steve Harley (of Cockney Rebel fame) via the BBC website and heard how the curmudgeonly Van Morrison had taken the hump and stormed off stage after TWO songs !
I went to see him with my dearest about 10 years ago at the Manchester Apollo. Dearest is very much a Folk fan and was impressed with Van’s ‘Irish Heartbeat’ album that was out at the time. Most of his other stuff she’d never heard of apart from ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’ and a few others.
Mr Morrison did two shows at the Apollo – one on Thursday night and one on Friday. We were at the Friday show. I read a review of the Thursday show in the Manchester Evening News who described it as ‘magical’. Apparently Van was all smiles; the vibes must have been truly good and the Feng Shui spot on. Not only did he do a 2 hours plus set, he came back on stage with an acoustic guitar and asked for requests. This went on for nearly another hour before he took his leave of an ecstatic audience.
Understandably – we were looking forward to the gig after that review ! (You can see where this is going can’t you ?)
He did slightly more than two songs – about an hour actually. God knows what we in the audience had done, but it was evident we weren’t in his good books; so he sods off ! After a lot of clapping and cheering the miserable bugger finally appeared back on stage and did anther 3 or 4 songs. An Irish guy next to me was trying to explain how everything had to be just right before Van could give of his all. I explained how everything had to be just right for me to be able to enjoy and be impressed. £30+ wasted on a bloke who obviously couldn’t be arsed was neither enjoyable nor impressive.
Astral Weeks is NOT one of the best albums of all time either ! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
On the same show Steve Harley was discussing Cat Steven’s music from the early 70s. He ended his little vignette with the comment “Islam has taken him”. A bit rich that I thought coming, as it did, from the mouth of a born again Christian.
Staying on a musical theme......White Stripes ? What am I missing ?
I was listening to Steve Harley (of Cockney Rebel fame) via the BBC website and heard how the curmudgeonly Van Morrison had taken the hump and stormed off stage after TWO songs !
I went to see him with my dearest about 10 years ago at the Manchester Apollo. Dearest is very much a Folk fan and was impressed with Van’s ‘Irish Heartbeat’ album that was out at the time. Most of his other stuff she’d never heard of apart from ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’ and a few others.
Mr Morrison did two shows at the Apollo – one on Thursday night and one on Friday. We were at the Friday show. I read a review of the Thursday show in the Manchester Evening News who described it as ‘magical’. Apparently Van was all smiles; the vibes must have been truly good and the Feng Shui spot on. Not only did he do a 2 hours plus set, he came back on stage with an acoustic guitar and asked for requests. This went on for nearly another hour before he took his leave of an ecstatic audience.
Understandably – we were looking forward to the gig after that review ! (You can see where this is going can’t you ?)
He did slightly more than two songs – about an hour actually. God knows what we in the audience had done, but it was evident we weren’t in his good books; so he sods off ! After a lot of clapping and cheering the miserable bugger finally appeared back on stage and did anther 3 or 4 songs. An Irish guy next to me was trying to explain how everything had to be just right before Van could give of his all. I explained how everything had to be just right for me to be able to enjoy and be impressed. £30+ wasted on a bloke who obviously couldn’t be arsed was neither enjoyable nor impressive.
Astral Weeks is NOT one of the best albums of all time either ! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
On the same show Steve Harley was discussing Cat Steven’s music from the early 70s. He ended his little vignette with the comment “Islam has taken him”. A bit rich that I thought coming, as it did, from the mouth of a born again Christian.
Staying on a musical theme......White Stripes ? What am I missing ?
Monday, April 07, 2003
Lookin’ For The Heart Of Saturday Night.....
I went on a stag night on Saturday. I know its an odd night to have it – Friday being traditional for such things – but Saturday it was. Fortunately I didn’t have to fork out serious money in order to go to Dublin, or some other magnet for piss-ups, but, after sampling the delights of Oldham’s nightlife, I wish I had.
The night started as we all met in a local pub on the Manchester/Oldham border. We ordered a mini bus to whisk us up to the town centre and, three-quarters of an hour later, it arrives. As we’re getting into the minibus a scrote in trackies and Rockport’s starts hurling verbals at the mini bus driver. His not-quite-as-pissed mates drag him away. As we drive off he’s trying to kick the bus and screaming obscenities at us. The driver refused our entreaties to stop the bus while we got off and did our bit for society. But I must confess to an absolute and utter hatred for the little prick – and I don’t even know him. What do the likes of him contribute to society ? Anyhow – no doubt before the night was over somebody would be taking great exception to his manner...........
First stop Weatherspoons where we meet the soon-to-be-groom and the rest of the motley crew. 4 deep at the bar and 3 bar staff !! Classic. Drunken groups of girls and blokes getting increasingly brassed off ‘cos they can’t get served. Bar staff becoming increasingly fractious. Atmosphere becoming distinctly uncomfortable.
Our party started to wander off group by group to the next pub with the eventual aim of going to a lap-dancing bar. Not my scene that ! Probably very nice, but not at £10 a time plus entrance money.
So I was able to sample the delights of small northern town on a Saturday evening with a few of the others who decided lap-dancing wasn't for them
It was like the wild west ! Groups of scantily clad girls with corned beef flesh staggering from pub to bar to pub. Pausing occasionally to stick their tongues down some equally plastered bloke's oesophagus. The main road through the town was impassable because gangs of drinkers are stood in the road – leaving their glasses on the floor when they’d supped up.
To say the music was ‘banging’ would be to describe it accurately ! Every bar we went in was exactly the same. A DJ would be screaming into microphones and cranking the sound system all the way up. Eventually it all got too much for me and, around 11:45 I decided to go home.
As I’m walking along Oldham’s main street a double decker bus arrives and suddenly about 200 kids all start shouting, screaming and running towards the bus ?? I later discovered that this was a free bus to a nearby trendy nightclub – that was probably just like the bars they had already left and full of the same people.
The local paper (Oldham Chronicle) has been printing editorials expressing the need for the town centre to be a more welcoming place on a weekend evening. They are of the opinion that an older clientele needs attracting in order that Oldham becomes a byword in sophisticated entertainment. Not a cat in hell’s chance of that. For a start off the fact that the centre is so compact forces everyone into a smallish area. Because it’s the centre, that’s where all the bars and pubs are situated so that’s where everyone drinks. That’s why its like the wild west: One street where everything happens.
Manchester – by contrast – is bigger obviously, and the nightlife is spread over a larger area. Its also more defined. You have your Oldham type pubs and clubs, restaurants, quiet piano bars, traditional pubs, the Gay Village, the student areas etc., all in fairly separate areas. On top of that its nearer to where I live, costs less in a taxi and I’ve never felt intimidated there like I did in Oldham last Saturday.
Sophisticated entertainment ? My arse !
I went on a stag night on Saturday. I know its an odd night to have it – Friday being traditional for such things – but Saturday it was. Fortunately I didn’t have to fork out serious money in order to go to Dublin, or some other magnet for piss-ups, but, after sampling the delights of Oldham’s nightlife, I wish I had.
The night started as we all met in a local pub on the Manchester/Oldham border. We ordered a mini bus to whisk us up to the town centre and, three-quarters of an hour later, it arrives. As we’re getting into the minibus a scrote in trackies and Rockport’s starts hurling verbals at the mini bus driver. His not-quite-as-pissed mates drag him away. As we drive off he’s trying to kick the bus and screaming obscenities at us. The driver refused our entreaties to stop the bus while we got off and did our bit for society. But I must confess to an absolute and utter hatred for the little prick – and I don’t even know him. What do the likes of him contribute to society ? Anyhow – no doubt before the night was over somebody would be taking great exception to his manner...........
First stop Weatherspoons where we meet the soon-to-be-groom and the rest of the motley crew. 4 deep at the bar and 3 bar staff !! Classic. Drunken groups of girls and blokes getting increasingly brassed off ‘cos they can’t get served. Bar staff becoming increasingly fractious. Atmosphere becoming distinctly uncomfortable.
Our party started to wander off group by group to the next pub with the eventual aim of going to a lap-dancing bar. Not my scene that ! Probably very nice, but not at £10 a time plus entrance money.
So I was able to sample the delights of small northern town on a Saturday evening with a few of the others who decided lap-dancing wasn't for them
It was like the wild west ! Groups of scantily clad girls with corned beef flesh staggering from pub to bar to pub. Pausing occasionally to stick their tongues down some equally plastered bloke's oesophagus. The main road through the town was impassable because gangs of drinkers are stood in the road – leaving their glasses on the floor when they’d supped up.
To say the music was ‘banging’ would be to describe it accurately ! Every bar we went in was exactly the same. A DJ would be screaming into microphones and cranking the sound system all the way up. Eventually it all got too much for me and, around 11:45 I decided to go home.
As I’m walking along Oldham’s main street a double decker bus arrives and suddenly about 200 kids all start shouting, screaming and running towards the bus ?? I later discovered that this was a free bus to a nearby trendy nightclub – that was probably just like the bars they had already left and full of the same people.
The local paper (Oldham Chronicle) has been printing editorials expressing the need for the town centre to be a more welcoming place on a weekend evening. They are of the opinion that an older clientele needs attracting in order that Oldham becomes a byword in sophisticated entertainment. Not a cat in hell’s chance of that. For a start off the fact that the centre is so compact forces everyone into a smallish area. Because it’s the centre, that’s where all the bars and pubs are situated so that’s where everyone drinks. That’s why its like the wild west: One street where everything happens.
Manchester – by contrast – is bigger obviously, and the nightlife is spread over a larger area. Its also more defined. You have your Oldham type pubs and clubs, restaurants, quiet piano bars, traditional pubs, the Gay Village, the student areas etc., all in fairly separate areas. On top of that its nearer to where I live, costs less in a taxi and I’ve never felt intimidated there like I did in Oldham last Saturday.
Sophisticated entertainment ? My arse !
Sunday, April 06, 2003
There but for the grace of....God ? Allah ? Luck ?
So we nearly lost a British institution today. The great John Simpson stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale. How the hell he kept it together to report in the terrible immediate aftermath of yet another 'friendly-fire', 'blue on blue' or what-the-hell-else-they-want-to-call-it incident, is beyond me. I would be babbling uncontrollably, probably crying my eyes out and shaking like a bloody leaf had I just come as close to my end as he had.
"I saw men burning to death in front of my eyes".
"This is just a scene from hell here. All the vehicles on fire. There are bodies burning around me, there are bodies lying around, there are bits of bodies on the ground".
Jesus ! My natural instinct would not be to file a report but scream and, possibly, faint.
John's translator died, the brother of the Kurd's leader also. Along with an unspecified number of American Special Forces personnel. He ended a later interview by pointing out that things like this happen in a war zone. I get the impression he would have liked to broadcast some images that would ram home just exactly what happens when bombs are dropped.
Full story here
So we nearly lost a British institution today. The great John Simpson stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale. How the hell he kept it together to report in the terrible immediate aftermath of yet another 'friendly-fire', 'blue on blue' or what-the-hell-else-they-want-to-call-it incident, is beyond me. I would be babbling uncontrollably, probably crying my eyes out and shaking like a bloody leaf had I just come as close to my end as he had.
"I saw men burning to death in front of my eyes".
"This is just a scene from hell here. All the vehicles on fire. There are bodies burning around me, there are bodies lying around, there are bits of bodies on the ground".
Jesus ! My natural instinct would not be to file a report but scream and, possibly, faint.
John's translator died, the brother of the Kurd's leader also. Along with an unspecified number of American Special Forces personnel. He ended a later interview by pointing out that things like this happen in a war zone. I get the impression he would have liked to broadcast some images that would ram home just exactly what happens when bombs are dropped.
Full story here
Saturday, April 05, 2003
Antique Roadshow
Bloody hell a Johnny Seven has sold for £350 !! I should've kept mine instead of swapping it for a guitar that (in retrospect) was knackered and had an action that high I nearly severed my fingers.
Did anybody else out there have a pair of Clarks Commandos ? You know - the shoes with the compass in the heel ? Great they were. You're up to your arse in mud out in the middle of nowhere and you got to take your bloody shoe off to 'get a reading' (as we quantly referred to it at the time). Can't find any pics or anything on the web.
Bloody hell a Johnny Seven has sold for £350 !! I should've kept mine instead of swapping it for a guitar that (in retrospect) was knackered and had an action that high I nearly severed my fingers.
Did anybody else out there have a pair of Clarks Commandos ? You know - the shoes with the compass in the heel ? Great they were. You're up to your arse in mud out in the middle of nowhere and you got to take your bloody shoe off to 'get a reading' (as we quantly referred to it at the time). Can't find any pics or anything on the web.
And on the 6th day God created..........Manchester !
I've added a link to Aidan O'Rourke's "Eyewitness in Manchester" page. Aidan has been running this page for about 4 years now. It is an absolutely fabulous repository for his photographs of Manchester as well as news from the area.
Given the amount of change that has occurred in Manchester since the bomb in '96, and the Commonwealth Games last year, Aidan's images are fast becoming an historical documentation of the city.
The site is a Godsend to ex-pat Mancunians, many of whom reminisce about the 'good old days' (beats me why they left in the first place if it was that good !) through the letters page.
All in all - well worth a visit.
I've added a link to Aidan O'Rourke's "Eyewitness in Manchester" page. Aidan has been running this page for about 4 years now. It is an absolutely fabulous repository for his photographs of Manchester as well as news from the area.
Given the amount of change that has occurred in Manchester since the bomb in '96, and the Commonwealth Games last year, Aidan's images are fast becoming an historical documentation of the city.
The site is a Godsend to ex-pat Mancunians, many of whom reminisce about the 'good old days' (beats me why they left in the first place if it was that good !) through the letters page.
All in all - well worth a visit.
"......No Mr Hussain I expect you to die !!!!!"
Donald Rumsfield ? Erudite, calm rebutter of the more tenacious journalists, or complete and utter prick ?
Personally - after talking to quite a few people (sample not likely to be definitive on account of: small number of folk interviewed, location - ie near where I live, and lethargy on my, and the interviewees part), it was decided that "evil uncle" was nearer the mark and, if you were only 9 or 10 you'd be shit-scared of him.
He gloats doesn't he ? I mean, come on, he does doesn't he ? Personally I think the USA needs to replace him with someone like Woody Allen. Inwardly assured of, eventual, victory; but outwardly giving a convincing display of soul-searching, procrastination and hand-wringing. The shock-jocks, Dubya-lovers and 'whoopers' won't like it but, believe me, us bleeding heart liberals might - just might - find it more palatable.
"Oh what a surprise - its Uncle Donald..................................."
"No Mummy no, no, no, please..........."
Donald Rumsfield ? Erudite, calm rebutter of the more tenacious journalists, or complete and utter prick ?
Personally - after talking to quite a few people (sample not likely to be definitive on account of: small number of folk interviewed, location - ie near where I live, and lethargy on my, and the interviewees part), it was decided that "evil uncle" was nearer the mark and, if you were only 9 or 10 you'd be shit-scared of him.
He gloats doesn't he ? I mean, come on, he does doesn't he ? Personally I think the USA needs to replace him with someone like Woody Allen. Inwardly assured of, eventual, victory; but outwardly giving a convincing display of soul-searching, procrastination and hand-wringing. The shock-jocks, Dubya-lovers and 'whoopers' won't like it but, believe me, us bleeding heart liberals might - just might - find it more palatable.
"Oh what a surprise - its Uncle Donald..................................."
"No Mummy no, no, no, please..........."
Friday, April 04, 2003
Accordion Crimes
The other night - after the game - I bumped into Phil the Button-Accordianist.
A fabulous sobriquet that, I always thought. Bloody 'Button Accordianist'. Yes, it deserves capitalisation. He’s a BUTTON ACCORDIANIST ! for feck’s sake !
How many self-taught guitarists do you know ? keyboard players ?? vocalists ??? spoons-players ???? clarinet......trumpet, drums.......all fairly mainstream instruments even if you’re not in an orchestra.
Button Accordianism however, is leftfield. Button Accordianism is eccentric, Button Accordianism is pushing the envelope, Button Accordianism is the dog’s bollix !!
“What do you want to be when you grow up son ???” “A......a....a........a.....a... Button Accordianist Dad !!”
“What ???? A bloody button accordionist ?” (lowercase to reflect the general contempt of father figure re: button accordianism). “ A bloody button accordionist ?? Nay lad.......I’ll not ‘ave a bloody puffter in this ‘ouse playing a bollixed-up version ‘o Piano Accordion – Carols or no Carols. I’m sorry son but yer barred !!!”
Phil was tubbier (not seen him for about 2 years. He probably thought the same of me).
17 or 18 stone I reckon. Faded blue denim jacket ( Levi’s – probably (knowing Phil) about 30-odd year’s old). V-neck grey pullover ‘cos “tank-tops are ‘retro’”.
Can’t disagree Phil. However – Retro looks great on kids of 17-18-19-20 etc etc etc., but on people our age ??? Well frankly it just looks like we bought them about....oooooh.....erm...30-odd year’s ago. Mind you, in Phil's case, its probably true.
Yep ! I don’t know who it was who said it but.....Life’s a bitch. Looks like I'll have to clear out the wardrobe now.
Now I know how to do pictures, I'll stick one of Phil up - remind me tomorrow ! I've got more to tell re: Phil. So later...........
The other night - after the game - I bumped into Phil the Button-Accordianist.
A fabulous sobriquet that, I always thought. Bloody 'Button Accordianist'. Yes, it deserves capitalisation. He’s a BUTTON ACCORDIANIST ! for feck’s sake !
How many self-taught guitarists do you know ? keyboard players ?? vocalists ??? spoons-players ???? clarinet......trumpet, drums.......all fairly mainstream instruments even if you’re not in an orchestra.
Button Accordianism however, is leftfield. Button Accordianism is eccentric, Button Accordianism is pushing the envelope, Button Accordianism is the dog’s bollix !!
“What do you want to be when you grow up son ???” “A......a....a........a.....a... Button Accordianist Dad !!”
“What ???? A bloody button accordionist ?” (lowercase to reflect the general contempt of father figure re: button accordianism). “ A bloody button accordionist ?? Nay lad.......I’ll not ‘ave a bloody puffter in this ‘ouse playing a bollixed-up version ‘o Piano Accordion – Carols or no Carols. I’m sorry son but yer barred !!!”
Phil was tubbier (not seen him for about 2 years. He probably thought the same of me).
17 or 18 stone I reckon. Faded blue denim jacket ( Levi’s – probably (knowing Phil) about 30-odd year’s old). V-neck grey pullover ‘cos “tank-tops are ‘retro’”.
Can’t disagree Phil. However – Retro looks great on kids of 17-18-19-20 etc etc etc., but on people our age ??? Well frankly it just looks like we bought them about....oooooh.....erm...30-odd year’s ago. Mind you, in Phil's case, its probably true.
Yep ! I don’t know who it was who said it but.....Life’s a bitch. Looks like I'll have to clear out the wardrobe now.
Now I know how to do pictures, I'll stick one of Phil up - remind me tomorrow ! I've got more to tell re: Phil. So later...........
Thursday, April 03, 2003
And I think to myself "What a Waynederful World"
What a performance last night from the lads. Rooney was phenomenal. I was wrong Sven did play him instead of Heskey and he was masterful. Later he replaced Michael Owen with Vassell. Is this the end for the Liverpool - England strike partnership ?
Should be after last night.
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
And I think to myself "What a Sven-derful World"
Important game for Engerland tonight. Some crucial decisions to be made by the reticent Swede. Heskey or Rooney ?? 4-4-2 or the much heralded 'diamond formation' ?
Here's my prediction - for what its worth. Having said that its as valid as Lawrenson's, Big Ron's and the rest of the overpaid, over-coiffured, tossers that grace our TV screens these days. GK James, RB Neville G, RCB Ferdinand, LCB Campbell, LB Bridge, RW Beckham LW Gerrard, Scholes in the hole and Butt just in front of the back 4. Up front Heskey and Owen. 2 - 1 to Engerland.
And, I know its on BBC but its the pub for me I reckon.
Important game for Engerland tonight. Some crucial decisions to be made by the reticent Swede. Heskey or Rooney ?? 4-4-2 or the much heralded 'diamond formation' ?
Here's my prediction - for what its worth. Having said that its as valid as Lawrenson's, Big Ron's and the rest of the overpaid, over-coiffured, tossers that grace our TV screens these days. GK James, RB Neville G, RCB Ferdinand, LCB Campbell, LB Bridge, RW Beckham LW Gerrard, Scholes in the hole and Butt just in front of the back 4. Up front Heskey and Owen. 2 - 1 to Engerland.
And, I know its on BBC but its the pub for me I reckon.
Bouncers will now have to be regulated. A conservative estimate reckons around 40% of them will have to resign because they have got criminal records.
I can only imagine that trouble will double without the calming influence of the dark-suited ones. People don't realise the amount of 'counselling' they do on a typical Saturday evening. I'm a bit old for clubbin' these days, but I look back on the 'Doormen' I met in my past with great affection. Many's the time we would discuss Post-Modernism, Contemporary History, Economics, Pure Maths and which way I would like my legs facing after he had, helpfully, broken them whilst making a salient point regarding the role of the Art Critic in late 20th century society.
I feel sorry for today's kids I really, really do.
I can only imagine that trouble will double without the calming influence of the dark-suited ones. People don't realise the amount of 'counselling' they do on a typical Saturday evening. I'm a bit old for clubbin' these days, but I look back on the 'Doormen' I met in my past with great affection. Many's the time we would discuss Post-Modernism, Contemporary History, Economics, Pure Maths and which way I would like my legs facing after he had, helpfully, broken them whilst making a salient point regarding the role of the Art Critic in late 20th century society.
I feel sorry for today's kids I really, really do.
5Live have been trailing an important announcement from the US military for the past hour and a half. "Any minute now", "The Podium is still empty". "We are assured it will happen within the next 5 minutes". Riveting it was. Absolutely riveting.
All the talk was about this being a major declaration - either good or bad. After all - the argument went - its "prime time" in the good 'ol US of A, even though its the middle of the night in the actual theatre of war. (The UK is also tucked up and snorin')
When it happened it took about 30 seconds. No questions. Just the fact ma'am, just the facts. And the story ? Well happily for the prisoner involved, the Yanks have managed to rescue him/her from the clutches of the 'Evil Regime'.
In the end it was like poor sex. The media were indulging themselves in some fantastic foreplay. They managed to prolong the climax that long it started to acquire a Tantric-like status. Then the moment came and went. A damp squib.
"How was it for you ?"
"Super Darling, absolutely super...........cigarette ?"
After it was all over 5Live were still talking about it as though it had been one of the most significant events of the war so far.
20 minutes later they seem to have demoted the whole shebang to not-quite-as-good-as-that-fumble-behind-the-bike-sheds-with-Dierdre Smethurst-back-in-'72.
PS When will folk start using the word "yes" again instead of "abso-fecking-lutely" ??????
All the talk was about this being a major declaration - either good or bad. After all - the argument went - its "prime time" in the good 'ol US of A, even though its the middle of the night in the actual theatre of war. (The UK is also tucked up and snorin')
When it happened it took about 30 seconds. No questions. Just the fact ma'am, just the facts. And the story ? Well happily for the prisoner involved, the Yanks have managed to rescue him/her from the clutches of the 'Evil Regime'.
In the end it was like poor sex. The media were indulging themselves in some fantastic foreplay. They managed to prolong the climax that long it started to acquire a Tantric-like status. Then the moment came and went. A damp squib.
"How was it for you ?"
"Super Darling, absolutely super...........cigarette ?"
After it was all over 5Live were still talking about it as though it had been one of the most significant events of the war so far.
20 minutes later they seem to have demoted the whole shebang to not-quite-as-good-as-that-fumble-behind-the-bike-sheds-with-Dierdre Smethurst-back-in-'72.
PS When will folk start using the word "yes" again instead of "abso-fecking-lutely" ??????
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