Roll the drums! My self-imposed writing hiatus is officially over. Not really sure what inspired me to start penning again but whilst driving home blasting out the new My Bloody Valentine album, I was hit right between the eyes with a brainwave. Oh well the thrill of filling an empty page with constructed nonsense has returned. There is a void in my life which needs fulfilling…
Annoyingly I have missed way too many opportunities for blogging. The Brits came and went – by jove even by its own usual disgusting standards it was an extremely tepid affair. Comic Relief was simply a regurgitation of its own stupid self. The only point to the whole sorry pantomime is they raised lots of money for charidee and gave Lenny Henry his biannual slab of much-needed publicity. The poor voiced the anger at the bedroom tax (quite rightly as well) whilst millionaires got a tax break.
The UK government became less popular mainly due to ridiculous ideals such as the bedroom tax and the ability of major members to shoot themselves in the foot so hard unemployed volunteers were drafted in to clear the carnage. Most memorable was Ian Duncan Smith claiming he could live on 53 quid a week. A few days later it was revealed he’d claimed 34 quid expenses on a breakfast. Planet politician is crazy at the best of times but this boastful claim was beyond the call of duty.
Still only a couple of years before they get voted out. I am almost convinced labour will be back in government in 2015. Certainly hope so.
Then – of course – there is Thatcher. Hurrah she finally fleeces off to that interest free place in the sky. Although in reality she’s been the walking dead for many a year. I don’t think anyone has divided opinion as much. The marmite of politics. Most politicians huffed and puffed glowing tributes which bordered on embarrassing. Maximum respect to the likes of Glenda Jackson and George Galloway who were most vocal in their criticism.
I had no time for the woman. I lived through the 80’s and they were not quite as happy and jolly as some commentators would lead you to believe. Funny how so many observe the past with rose-tinted spectacle. I was certainly fuming about the tax payer helping fund the funeral although the final figure (10 million according to The Guardian) has not been disclosed.
I missed the whole shambles. Didn’t even bother to watch any highlights but I was sporting red clothing in protest. Although being a postman, I always wear read. However I pointed out on Facebook I would have donned my Royal Mail red shirt even if I hadn’t been working that day. I’m glad she is no longer around but she will continue to generate debate. I know very little about politics but she did much more harm than good. Good riddance. The street parties were a little excessive I felt. On the other hand, I can fully understand how in certain areas of the UK emotions were running high and there was such a hatred of the woman that celebrations were always likely when she finally popped her clogs.
Then the BBC – for fear of repercussions from their Tory chums – decided not to play ‘Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead’ which catapulted to no 2 in the hit parade. An awful, appalling decision which kept their politician chums happy but alienated them from the very people who fund the corporation – me included. To add insult to injury, they did play in full ‘I’m In Love With Margaret Thatcher’ an old punk song which was actually a satirical swipe at the iron lady. Some Tory berks campaigned for the song to chart without realizing the tongue in cheek content.
The fact the latter got to no 35 and the former no 2, speaks volumes.
Not much else to say for now. It’s been rather wonderful to fill a blank page for the first time in over three months. Watch this space for more…
As usual in these type of situations, things this week have not turned out quite as planned. After such a productive day Monday, yesterday and today have been the complete opposite.
Yesterday was a complete write off. Most the day spent wincing and writhing in bed with bones in excruciating agony. Every time I managed to stumble out me pit, I hastily returned. Yet I managed to sleep lots. I thought it might have been the Monday night booze but no this was more than a mere hangover. I faced the reality of the situation e.g. I was ill and vowed to tough it out until I felt better which I did around 1 PM this afternoon.
Amazing what shed loads of Lemsip and Ibuprofen can do for one’s body!
All this means, I am well behind on the revamping of my humble abode. Energy levels remain pretty low but at least I got a few things done today. I moved my bed (a two person job but had to do it alone!) and made a lovely mark on the neatly painted wall. Oh well will have to hide it with a poster methinks!
I bought one of those wireless thingies which transmits a signal from main freeview box to bedroom telly. After some huffing and puffing I managed to get it to operate, only snag in the remote doesn’t work so about as useful as a chocolate fire guard right now. Why do these things never work as God intended I always curse to myself.
Still some unpaid hired help is coming round tomorrow night to try and help fix the problem!
I fear the week is going to end up a pretty wasted exercise, the sneezing session I’ve just endured suggests this damn bug hasn’t quite shaken. I’m resisting the temptation to have a few medicinal whiskies. Gotta try and salvage something out the week!
Still on the bright side it’s got me writing again and if I can make a monumental effort tomorrow, I can set up my working area. If I achieve this I’ll be a happy bunny for sure.
Must definitely stay off that whisky…
Aha I have returned. High time I started writing again. Been stuck with damn writers block far too long. Actually being a postman over Christmas was mad busy as you’d expect. Darn you general public types and your thousands of ruddy parcels and wrongly addressed Christmas cards. On the upside keeps me in a job I suppose…
I had an awful Christmas and New Year. Officially the worst on record. If truth be told, I didn’t see the point in churning out endless blogs bemoaning this fact. Work didn’t help which led to burn out and exhaustion. Just as well because so many issues were swimming around my mind, if I’d been mooting round HQ all day crawling up the walls, the chances of self-combustion were extremely high.
New Year was worse than Christmas. In the afternoon after I finished work, I felt utterly despondent yet couldn’t put my finger on exactly why which only confused matters more. Strangely though tanking into a bottle of Morgan’s Spiced Rum actually cheered me up (see the booze is not always a depressant, mind you I couldn’t really get anymore depressed that afternoon).
By the time Jools Holland Hootmanay thingy came on, I was encased in something approaching decent form. It was in general a pretty woeful affair this year but gave me plenty of material for Facebook. One saving grace was Adam Ant – thankfully fully recovered from his mental health problems – who for me was the star of the show. He looks like Johnny Depp these days or is it vice versa? I look forward to his new album. I also learned Petula Clark still lives (I thought she’d died years ago!) and that Kevin Rowland’s new versions of his old Dexys songs are like my life. Utterly pointless.
Still fear not, the form has picked up and I find myself relaxed with me feet up and a refreshing glass of pear cider. For this week I don’t have to traipse round the streets of Suffolk delivering mail and parcels. I am on a much needed week holiday. Boy do I need it!
My colleagues are literally dropping like flies at the mo. On Saturday – my last day – I was boasting how I was feeling top of the world and not ill at all. Serves me right being trappy. Yesterday I felt cold like symptoms spending most the day in bed. Necked a few Lemsips and a handful of ibuprofen before the worst insomnia in quite some time kicked in. Bah humbug indeed. It never rains it just ruddy well pours round here.
You see I got plans this week which for once don’t involve heavy alcohol consumption (all but erased binge drinking these days), Football Manager or mail delivery. I made sure my boss got the message that in no uncertain terms would I go into work this week (he must have got the message as there was no phone call today). I am finally getting round to a complete overhaul and revamp of HQ.
Ever since I arrived back from Aberdeen with a carload of my worldly possessions (mostly CD’s), the place has been a nightmare to abode in. It hasn’t helped my mood at all arriving home and literally falling over shite. So I was more than thankful when I awoke this morning – a little confused and bleary eyed as usual – and the Lemsip and Ibuprofen seemed to have done their job. I was raring to go… well raring is probably too strong a word but I made a start nonetheless.
Inevitably a revamp of HQ involves some DIY. Now when it comes to any do it yourself matters, I can be as clueless and bemused as the great Frank Spencer. Two CD units I purchased a month ago were assembled (a couple of slapdash mistakes made but I managed to get away with it). They haven’t fallen down yet touch wood. I got meself a new 42” telly in the sales and a unit to place the aforementioned telly upon. The unit assembled with relative ease… the TV another matter entirely.
My own stupid fault as I never read the instructions properly. I should know this by now but oh no, I knew best. Cue lots of head scratching and mumbled swear words. Hey ho it finally got assembled and looking reasonably stable. I am admiring its beauty as opposed to watching it! Then I had to set up the BT Vision box… this would be quite straightforward I thought. I’ve done it before with complete ease. Cue lots more head scratching before a light bulb magically appeared above my head…. Dur! The internet cable goes into the box not the TV you stupid boy!
By this point I’d cracked open a bottle of pear cider and quite frankly had had enough. I chill out on my couch admiring my handy work praying things don’t collapse in a Frank Spencer kind of way. The TV looks great even if it is going to remain off for the rest of the night. There is much work to be done mind but just one more bit of DIY. I bought another unit for CD’s to assemble. I really can’t have enough of them!
As part of the revamp a massive clear out is on the cards. When I was in Aberdeen picking my stuff I simply had to be ruthless as I could only fill the car and I shall be taking a similar approach. Been hoarding too much junk for too long. I want a home not a doss house. Even though the place is still a tip, it now feels like a works in progress which pleases me immensely.
I’m going to have a working area for writing and making music which I’m hoping will inspire me more. The desktop computer will not be connected to the internet which I find a distraction. I get too relaxed working on the laptop on the couch. A corner is set aside for music and assembling radio shows. Got so many various plans for what to do this week swimming round my mind, I almost find myself excited. Yes I don’t get out nearly enough!
It’s great to make a start so as I type this I feel nicely chilled and relaxed. I look forward to tomorrow with hearty glee; if I just do what I did today I should get the job done within the week. Already my mind feels clearer and I am beginning to feel happier inside.
I bid you a Happy New Year. More blogging, more creativity, less wallowing in self-pity is on my menu this year. However, the only New Year resolution I ever make is to not make any New Year resolutions in the first place. You only beat yourself up when you break them.
Christmas 2012 is almost upon us. If we make it that is. Apparently the world is going to end on 12/12/2012… just like when the millennium hit as. Oh hang on bugger all happened didn’t it? Computers never crashed and life just went on as normal. I’m not too concerned in all honesty. Various loony infested theories about the end of the world have been bandied about for centuries. We are still here and we are still standing…
I will however be a little perturbed should we burn to dust a week on Wednesday. I’ve been working my fat ass off delivering packages – a good majority of which are Christmas presents – in the capacity of my day job as a postman. As well as those pesky cards which are starting to filter through. I mean if the world does end then all that effort will be a waste of time. It’d probably be my final thought before shuffling off to that interesting free place in the sky.
Gotta confess not even done much homework on the matter. Quite frankly have better things to do than bother myself with what might or might not happen. I think we are all guilty of worrying about stuff which is out of our control. Right now am just living for the day which generally involves delivering mail, playing football manager and farting about on the internet hence the lack of recent updates.
It is darn annoying these theories are thrown in our faces at Christmas time. I mean all that plotting and planning could go to waste. The whole pantomime shenanigan gets worse every year. Being out and about at work, I notice these things. Christmas trees are up in November. I mean come on, call me old school but Christmas celebrations should never even be contemplated pre December 1st. Christmas is not November.
The BBC helpfully informed me via one of their irritating promos that Christmas was ‘coming soon’. No shit Sherlock!!! You think I’m that bloody stupid I do not know this??? The less than helpful information message was followed by two minutes of clips from the cream of their Christmas schedule…. Doctor Who, The Royale Family and Shrek… yes Shrek. Probably the latest film which any movie buff will have seen anyway. It amuses me how TV channels still cream over the fact they’re showing a film which was released three odd years ago.
In the old days (oh god here comes a ‘During The War’ moment if I ever did write one!); terrestrial TV showings of three year old films were an exciting proposition. I’m old enough to remember when owning a video recorder was a luxury! Actually we got our first video recorder in the winter of 1984. I remember taping Madonna performing ‘Like A Virgin’ on Top Of The Pops and endlessly watching gazed in awe. It was her pink wig which did it for me.
Ah the wonders of the internet! Need a clip just go online and wham bam thank you ma’am!
As each passing year descends I become deeper embroiled in middle age. I get less excited about the prospect of Christmas. I suppose not having kids or kids to buy crap for helps speed up this bah humbug process I am adopting more and more. I’ve put the Christmas tree up and it’s sparkling quite nicely. Shopping is almost complete and despite being sober for a month, I took the executive decision to sup a few snifters this evening. Cheap Baileys (Sainsbury’s ‘Taste The Difference’ Irish Cream… gotta admit I cannot taste the difference with some extra whisky to give it a bit of kick). Well it’s me day off tomorrow so what the heck I concluded. Plus for the first time in a long time I actually have the right frame of mindset to have a few drinks.
Radio has gone barmy as well with Christmas songs. The golden unwritten rule of radio was no Christmas songs were ever played before 1st December. I was ill last week. So ill I even took a couple of days off work. I’m no medical expert but I suspect some Tesco value peanuts didn’t agree with me. In any case bleary eyed and feeling like utter crap I flicked through radio channels on freeview.
Those immortal words ‘its Christmas time and there’s no need to be afraid’ (bloody stupid lyric Geldof!) came blaring out. In my haziness I dropped the remote. Oh god no, please no! I do not want to hear Band Aid on 26th November! Christmas songs have been coming on the radio at work for at least two weeks… it literally drives me insane.
Obviously that unwritten rule has been discarded. When I worked in commercial radio I got plenty of November requests for Christmas songs only to disappoint the listener with the brutal reality that the tunes are simply not on the computer system. This often confused said listener as they assumed we played our music off CD!
With my job being quite mental over the yuletide period, I’ll just get me head down and work hard delivering them gifts and cards aplenty. Christmas Day – as usual – I’ll get hammered. Cambridge United are away Boxing Day; down the road at Braintree in what’s shaping up to be a relegation six pointer. Might go depending on alcohol consumption.
On the whole though gonna try and let the whole pantomime pass me by. Until the next time. Then again if the world does end next week we don’t have to worry about a thing!
Christ on a bike excusing the blasphemy if you’re a god fan, I felt dirty this weekend. Not through lack of personal hygiene (hey my teeth get cleaned every day as opposed to every other since I was warned by my pretty Eastern European dentist there is a good chance they may disintegrate into mush sooner rather than later). No I watched some X Factor and I’m A Celebrity this weekend. Oh the shame!
Being full time employed and with a new weekly radio show to lovingly craft together (shows uploaded to http://www.mixcloud.com/delfranklin/), I’ve let them pass me by this year. I was always more a dabbler than out and out fan in any case. But Saturday night I was so exhausted from an intense week delivering the queens mail and with an eager friend sending copulas texts on the matter, I simply succumbed.
I tell a lie. I had previously watched around 15 mins of this series of X Factor with the contents of half a bottle of vodka in me belly if that counts. I knew enough to know that Rylan is a talentless berk of the highest order. This years Chico who apparently was switching on the Christmas lights in Cambridge recently (the real Chico that is). Nice to see him getting some work as karaoke artist cannot live on the back of royalties from ‘Its Chico Time’ alone. I immediately saw the light and tuned into a rather fine radio show playing proper music by proper bands…. Sometimes one simply has to be a musical snob.
Anyways, I cannot hide behind the alcohol excuse on this one. I’ve not supped liquor in over two weeks. Not a drop and a litre of unopened whiskey sits alone and forlorn in the corner of my living room. I was tired, exhausted and in a state of confusion so tuned in. I missed the ahem ‘talents’ of Union J sadly but saw the rest of the sorry crew including the berk. The token American from Pussycat Dolls who couldn’t muster a hit these days even if their life depended on it is even more irritating than the girl with the long name from N Dubz (ooh so streetwise spelling dubs with a Z).
Still it was the same old repetitive garbage the Saturday night ITV1 schedule has been spewing for almost a decade now. I saw lots of hugging, cries of how the contestants were ‘nailing’ a song (murder would be a more apt word) and how far they would go in the competition blah blah blah…. Surely it’s time to put this nonsense to bed? The viewing figures speak for themselves. 2 Million lost viewers this series is absolutely no surprise. All held together by Dermot O’Leary who is just going through the motions and thinking of his massive pay cheque.
Incredibly I managed to lie in my weary bed through the whole pantomime. This was due to sending my friend Nikki a plethora of amusing texts. That’s what X Factor is there for I concluded. To rip the piss out of simple as that. It amuses me just how seriously the judges take it. Louie Walsh is looking incredibly old. Gary Barlow clearly would rather be somewhere else. It’s not like he doesn’t currently have a music career unlike the girls. Can you name any of their solo efforts??? No me neither.
As the show sped towards its conclusion, a nap finally came my way and I awoke to the nation’s favourite Geordie tykes Ant n Dec on their annual Australian working holiday spouting mildly amusing scripted japes the jammy gits. I much preferred them when they terrorized the pop charts as PJ and Duncan… let’s get ready to rumble! Oh they’re so cheeky. Thanks to the wonders of Facebook, one really doesn’t need to watch these shows. All the information you could possibly need is nicely presented by friends. To save time I would suggest copying all your comments from previous years to save typing them again.
So therefore I already knew Helen Flanagan (or Rosie Webster from Corrie) is this years Gillian McKeith. Them producer types with long ponytails and silly glasses don’t miss a trick. I feel sorry for the lass; she doesn’t need to do this. She is engaged to a well-paid Premier League footballer. Ok so Rosie Webster is the only thing she has ever done acting wise (I checked IMDB!). Even Casualty or Doctors haven’t come calling. She has to keep the profile up somehow so going in the jungle and being ridiculed is probably one of her few options.
I also knew she was being a bit rubbish and failing bushtucker trial after bushtucker trial. In all honesty she doesn’t look like the kind of person who would take life to the jungle too well. I like a nice girlie but she really does come across as a useless bimbo of the highest order. I’m sure there is actually quite a nice down to earth girl deep down inside. You go on that show what do you expect?
I only lasted less than ten minutes of the jungle but had seen enough. The programme doesn’t change and it certainly doesn’t add anything of value to your life. It simply gnaws on relentlessly. Different faces each year, same old scenario, personalities and traits. Hey if it floats your boat then fine. I just read what’s going on via Facebook, saves a lot of time and hassle. Glad I had my moment of weakness though. A stark reminder of how there are many better things in life for me. Music and Football Manager 2013 for starters.
We are becoming the robots. If we haven’t already.
It can be much like the old cliché of waiting for a bus this blog malarkey. Wait ages for one then along come two at once! Hey ho, it’s good to be writing again even if it does feel a bit like learning to ride a bike again! In the sense I feel I have to learn my craft all over again.
I still allow myself to be distracted by the ruddy internet when trying to write. This really is not a good practise but I do it regardless. Maybe time to invest in a bashed up ageing internet-free laptop with which to thrash ideas out on. Or time to take my writing a little more seriously. Either way I’ve not got an ideal scenario with which to complete my work. At this stage I am thankful to be writing again as I feared I may never pen a single thing again.
Been here before though and sooner or later I give in and become creative once more. This has been a significant period of inactivity though which does after a while become a little worrying. I found myself beating meself up a little too much over the issue. When I finally started writing again, well it really wasn’t that difficult…
If I play my cards right and stay focused, I might actually start writing some blogs with interesting content!!! Watch this space!
Actually feeling quite groggy this morning despite finally getting good nights kip. Sleeping patterns have not been good lately. Too much on my mind as usual. Some consumed chicken did not agree with me one jot last night. I won’t disparage you with the gory details but the latter half of the evening was spent in the bathroom… nuff said methinks!
The reality is I’m a bit of a physical wreck right now. Put on a bit of weight recently through terrible eating. Binge drinking on a Saturday night slumped in front of the computer is doing me no good at all (and as a result Sundays have literally become the day of rest… or the day of a hangover in my case) and to acquire some mild food poisoning is just the icing on the cake so to speak. It doesn’t feel so bad this morning but the thought of food is literally churning my stomach!
My job delivering the queen’s mail and other assorted items (mostly ordered off the internet when drunk I suspect) really takes it out of me at times. Yet when I religiously followed a new eating plan for one whole week (ooh get me!) I found the going so much easier. My sleeping also drastically improved. Am glad I do have such a physical job or lord knows how much weight I’d have gained this year! Never mind it’s been a difficult period for reasons I shall not disclose. As is often the case in time of crisis, I rise out the ashes and am more positive. It is amazing just how much better one feels when you inject some positive thinking.
I hate it when my creative muse dies and I live a more ‘normal’ existence. Whatever normal is… you can leave that to your own imagination. For me it was working, half watching awful television whilst observing pointless web sites and getting hammered on a Saturday night. Oh the joys of such a humdrum lifestyle! I soon get bored with that kind of way of life admittedly but feel it occasionally becomes part of the life process.
I went a bit mad on Amazon and bought a bunch of books. Tony Benn diaries, a cracking read about the demise of the record shop and some poetry. Now the TV is staying mainly switched off (unless listening to the radio) and I’m discovering more interesting things to do with my spare time. And you know what life is beginning to feel a whole lot better.
Often in life we find ourselves getting into ruts. I feel I am coming out of one gigantic black hole of void. The sun shines here in the International Republic of East Anglia as our ‘Indian Summer’ continues. Amazing how good weather always makes you feel better. Sadly we know what’s just around the corner… as I always say; no-one lives in the UK for the weather! If this is what global warming is all about, I am all for it! Those first tones of winter are kicking in big style so time to play the old how long can I hold off putting on the central heating game. I usually last till sometime in October before succumbing!
Mind you speaking of normal, in life still have to carry on with mundane but necessary tasks. Housework and cooking need doing so better crack on….
It wasn’t meant to be like this… honest! Observing the folders on my computer it’s been two months since last blogging. I mean TWO MONTHS! I’m at a loss as to where that time has actually gone if truth be told. I’ve not written a damn thing. Not even a dodgy poem or lyric.
Still never mind; better late than never as the saying goes. I was completely devoid of inspiration. Just existing in my little bubble, living quite normally (e.g. working a lot and drinking on a Saturday night plus watching too much rubbish telly). When you’re a creative soul, you get to the point where enough is enough. I thankfully have the desire to ooze some words of wisdom out my system which gets the blog up and running once more in the process.
A load has gone on this crazy mixed up world of ours. So many missed blogging opportunities! The Olympics has come and gone. Admittedly despite many a reservation, I have to confess they were a resounding success and most enjoyable to watch (well the BBC coverage was, Channel 4’s Paralympics effort was dodgy at best, appalling at worst). Now we have the added bonus that Lord Annoying of Coe can go and crawl back under the stone he previously inhabited. I do hope I am not subjected to his smug little mutton chops too much in the near future.
Speaking of the Olympics; Andy Murray – A man who used to annoy but now I admire greatly – followed up reaching the Wimbledon final by returning to the venue and bagging Olympic gold fittingly pasting Federer in the process. And to really shut the critics up, he’s now won a grand slam. Good on him. You can remain British forever old son. Even if you start losing again.
The so-called experts have been triumphing a summer of sport. Of course football is evidently no longer a sport. Both British teams were predictably knocked out in the quarters in the Olympics. Made me chuckle that. Then England laboured to a barely deserved 1-1 draw against that football giant Ukraine. I confess to having stopped giving any kind of shit about the England football team a long time ago. It might be best all round if they failed to qualify for Brazil 2014. Would leave Talksport in a bit of a pickle that…. Actually no it wouldn’t as they would spend months discussing the failure.
Enough on sport (not even gonna bother writing about Cambridge United’s woeful early season form, save that for another day!) the most significant thing I’ve done since last updating is climbing aboard one of those big scary machines with wings. Yep yours truly flew for the first time in five and a half years a couple of weeks ago.
I am the world’s most pathetic flyer. No seriously I am! I pride myself on being such a rubbish flyer. Maybe it’s because I’ve nearly always flown alone with no-one to hold me hand. More likely it’s because when it comes to being 30 odd thousand feet in the sky, I am a complete unadulterated cissy! Also I tend to leave it a few years between flights which don’t help.
Every time the same routine happens. I work myself up into a frenzy. I foresee the next day headlines regarding a plane crash for the flight I am aboard. Yes I know it’s a darn sight safer than driving the highways but that doesn’t stop me getting paranoid and in a complete state of mush.
Yet every time it really isn’t that bad. In fact the flight up to Scotland was most enjoyable (the 7-30 AM whiskey in my coffee did help somewhat though). Calm skies and amazing views especially approaching Aberdeen airport. Hey ho I survived to tell the tale! Hopefully from this point on with working for a living, I shall get to fly more. For no matter how much it freaks me out, it’s still more often than not, the quickest way to get from A to B. I mean it halved the usual driving time to Aberdeen.
Funnily enough though, I do have to drive the 500 plus miles next week as on a mission to retrieve some of my worldly possessions which have been sitting in a shed since 2004! Another adventure beckons. Maybe now I’ve spurned myself back into action, I might make the effort and write about it this time… then again this is me so probably not!
Hmmm that wasn’t too bad, time to fall in love with writing all over again methinks.
Oops wasn’t meant to be an almost two week hiatus between blogs but that’s just the way these things work out sometimes. My life has descended into a predictable routine of work, some more work, the odd glass of red, some more work, bad eating and spontaneous illness. It really wasn’t meant to end up like this but sadly it has.
My job often leads me so exhausted, I can do little more than switch on the TV or stereo. Before I know it, hours have passed, Family Guy comes on BBC3 and the day has gone. It’s not all be complete bone-idleness though. Finally managing to archive a good chunk of recordings from the early 90’s. Looking through my neatly assembled list of recordings, I was pretty impressed at the sheer volume of work.
Having written that, some of it is beyond appalling… well the singing is. Very frustrating because now I have learnt to at least hold a note! And there are a few tracks where I actually like my voice! Call it self-indulgent but all music listened to in the car recently has been my own! I always felt these tracks were put together with something of a ‘Blue Peter’ ethos. E.g. it feels like they were made with an egg box, cardboard and naturally some double-sided sticky tape. I don’t think I’ve ever seen double-sided sticky tape for sale… then again I’ve never looked for such an item!
Writing is a bit of a labour of love. I so wish I could spend three or four hours a day glued to the laptop clicking away. I simply cannot do this. The unwritten book remains unwritten. I still haven’t started my writing course. The plethora of ideas which swim around my mind continue to swim without being saved. I also wish I could completely alienate myself away from the madness of the modern but it keeps drawing me back in.
Thankfully I’m not depressed with life at the moment. Just really bloody bored… as The Stranglers once said “Something Better Change”.
Right back to some archiving… better than doing nothing!
I don’t even follow tennis yet year after year ever since I can remember, I’m always hooked on Wimbledon. Whence it’s all over at the weekend, I shall forget about the sport till this time next year. I tried other competitions when they come on council telly such as the French Open but they do nothing for me. One of my earliest blogs – some three years ago – was on the epic final between Roger Federer and Andy Roddick.
Andy Murray remains British whilst still in the tournament before becoming Scottish again (unless of course he only goes and bloody wins the darn thing then he’s be British forever and probably knighted into the bargain). By default, I tend to find him a dour, mumbling git who’s simply plain annoying. However, I couldn’t help but admire his mammoth victory this afternoon/evening. I recognize good, determined play when I see it. Particularly impressive was his ability to turn the tables when the chips were down.
Now I find myself in a bit of a predicament… can I go as far as to want Murray to actually win Wimbledon? I’m trying to resist but the more I watch him this year, the more I find myself sweating cold blood thinking ‘you know what it would be super jolly with strawberries and cream if he is victorious’.
As usual the media are hyping the poor chap up the hilt. The second Nadal was sensationally dumped out by some Eastern European nobody, they were at it. Cue usual bullshit clichés such as ‘this could beMurray’s year’ blah blah blah blah blah….
Then you get the bandwagon Olympian optimists spouting tripe. Just because the Olympics are being held inLondon, does not mean Andy Murray is going to win Wimbledon or a gold medal. There is the little matter of either Federer or Djokovic in the final to contend with for starters. Neither is too shoddy at the old tennis lark.
See what I did there? I took the well-heralded media stance and assumed Murray is going to blow Tsonga off the park in the semi (with ease of course in straight sets). It’s in the script after all! The jovial Frenchman may as well not bother showing up. Murrayhas the game all sewn up before a ball is smashed. Well that is true if you believe certain media commentators. I like Tsonga; he reminds me of the kind of players who littered the game when I watched as a lad – full of character and plays with a smile on his face. He will give Murray a right good game for sure.
The BBC is letting themselves down with their coverage mind (and to think three years ago I was praising!). How on earth the powers that be deem Andrew Castle worthy of commentating on Murray matches is beyond me. Give veteran legend Barry Davies the gig for crying out loud! A true professional broadcaster. Not some mediocre at best during his playing career who has fallen into broadcasting more by default than anything else. Who could forget how terribly out of hisdepthCastlewas on the GMTV couch. He does seem a quite nice bloke, speaks posh and the BBC do like that kind of thing.
Castle continues to try his stand-up comedy routine whenever the camera pans to Henman Hill or Murray Mound as they cannot decide what to actually call it. Give us a break man! Don’t think Billy Connolly has too much to worry about just yet.
Tim Henman – the only man in the world duller than Roger Federer – was also present. Henman – the eternal semi final loser (much like Murray unless he can prove me wrong by whipping Tsonga’s ass on Friday) – offers little insight into proceedings. Like Castle, he speaks posh and the BBC really do like that kind of thing.
The third member of the commentary team most certainly does not speak posh and thank the man upstairs for that. John McEnroe (why is it pronounced Mac though when it should be Mc?????) is the commentary team saving grace he really is. Ever colourful and full of life; he remains in a much better position to say it as he sees it since he won the title three times.
The coverage continues to be littered with stupid montages which dogs BBC sport these days. I am not a violent man but really would like to bop whoever invented these monstrosities a boot up the bottom. They couldn’t resist sticking one in just before going over to a live match. Come on! I do not wish to see slow motion pictures and comments over crap music. When I settle down to watch sport is it not unreasonable to expect erm some sport???? Evidently so.
Don’t get me started on the numerous camera shots on famous people. Well one assumes their famous but half the time, I don’t have a blinking clue who they are. Roy Hodgson was in attendance today. I know who he is. Manages some god-awful football team called Engerland. I thought 80’s singer Paul Young was in the crowd but it turned out to be one of Murray’s gangs as he was sitting next to his dour-faced, scrawny looking mother.
Murray’s current coach – another who features frequently in the close up shots department – Ivan Lendl is bearing an uncanny resemblance to Neil Tennant of Pet Shop Boys. Separated at birth, I think so!
So yes at last I have decided to root forMurrayand hope he can go all the way. Never thought I’d say that. And never thought I would ever write these words….
“COME ON ANDY!!!!!!!” Best of British mate.
I’d heard about the concept of archiving John Peel’s vast record collection. I’d even seen links on twitter but foolishly never bothered to click. Tonight, I finally checked it out. If you’re a fan of the late, great man then place it in your favourites immediately.
It’s very much a works in progress as you’d expect with such a colossal assortment of vinyl delights. Even better there is direct links – if the album is available on the medium – to Spotify and/or i tunes. New albums are added at a fast pace. It is an insight to the man’s impeccable taste in all things music. Not too much there at the moment but watch it grow!
I often forget I possess 300 odd Peel shows – mostly from his latter years – I picked up on e bay not long after he died (best 20 quid investment of all time!). Whenever I delve into this archive, it’s like listening to a fresh show with all kinds of musical delights blasting away. The e bay shows plus festive fifties comes to a mind boggling 51 GB of Peel.
I do remember attempting to plough through the lot, creating a separate folder for shows listened to. This evening I am reinvigorating that trend. With a return to the airwaves in a specialist show capacity forthcoming; it’s certainly time for a Peel phase. Euro 2012 is fast drawing to anEnglandfree conclusion, the telly is beyond awful and a serious creative phase pulsates through my veins. There are few better ways spending the evening after a tiring day at work listening to the soothing tones of Mr Peel and pottering around HQ.
The website is a real treat. As well the archived album info and links there is all manner of Peel related goodies. It is so good the way his spirit is being kept alive. I love the backdrop of his home studio. Some organised chaos going on there… I can relate to that! What I always notice when listening back to his shows is the astonishing freshness. Many DJ’s try and emulate his achievements but none succeed.
All too often we hear of broadcasters (usually employed by BBC 6 Music) waxing lyrical about diverse and eclectic mixes. It feels like they try too hard. Peel never tried to make it diverse or eclectic; he just played the music he loved.
Once I get cracking on my new show; I will take this stance with me. Peel once said he didn’t believe in genres but there were simply ‘records I like and records I don’t’. This explains why every now and then he’d slip something like Sheena Easton into the mix.
John Peel… you will never be forgotten and this website is a fitting tribute to your legacy.
Twitter @johnpeelarchive for latest updates