My Top 10 iPod tracks - 01/11/2007

1. (-) - Getting Involved - Scott Brookman
2. (4) - Suicide (live) - Thin Lizzy
3. (5) - Teddy Picker - Arctic Monkeys
4. (1) - Manchester (demo) - Brendan James
5. (2) - Child In Time (live) - Deep Purple
6. (-) - _:;_:;_:; - Dissonant Elephant
7. (-) - You Make Me Feel So Young - Frank Sinatra
8. (-) - Ice Cold Ice - Husker Du
9. (3) - Jackson - Johnny Cash
10. (-) - Babylon System - Linval Thompson

Regards,

djp

I probably shouldn't admit this, but...

This afternoon, for the first time in, oh, well over 10 years, I decided to go for a little jog.

Little being the operative word. There's a sports field across the road from us and tonight a "municipal" Hallowe'en fireworks show is being organised in the field. Most of the field has been cordoned off to facilitate this, leaving a small, vaguely-rectangular section left for free access. I'd be embarrassed to tell you just how small that area is, but I managed four "circuits" of the area, topped-and-tailed with warm-up/warm-down walking circuits. The whole thing took me about 20 mins. I know...

...but you see, I want to be able to try it again tomorrow and the next day. There's no point in my trying to take on a huge (for me) physical challenge if I'm bolloxed for a week after doing it. And given my physiology, there's a very good chance that I could drop dead if I take too much on (that's my excuse anyway).

Wish me luck as I try to get into a routine on this...

Regards,


djp

Feeling much better today, thanks for asking...

Back to nearly normal today. Sinutab is a wonderful thing altogether...:-)

Spent yesterday under a sleeping bag in the front room, watching way too much soccer on Setanta Sports. Man U v Boro was a free-flowing 4-1 victory for the home team (though I'm not a big fan of Man U), while Portsmouth v West Ham went on for what seems like 3 hours - (0-0).

Like most people, I have a stockpile of DVDs and recorded TV that I put aside for sick days, but your man the sinus is a bugger for screwing up the powers of concentration. I would have had difficulty in keeping up with the plot of yer average Tom & Jerry cartoon, whereas soccer is something I look at rather than watch. I just let it wash all over me, to be truthful.

Improvement continues. Got to get out of the house today for some fresh air.

Regards,


djp

Not well...

Feeling like shite today. Sinus is at me. Painful this morning but easing off slowly. Feeling a bit groggy though. Nice way to start a weekend, eh?

Bummer,


djp

Road Rage

I've been a latent sufferer from road rage for years. Y'see I like driving a lot - it's part of what defines me, I feel - behind the wheel of a big, powerful car, devouring the road as the miles whizz by. Never driving terribly fast, of course - I tend to stick to the speed limits except when overtaking, which, though not strictly legal, is fair enough I reckon.

Passengers in my car are, from time to time, treated to expressions of anguish and rage as I travel around, especially in Nenagh. The standard of driving in Ireland is appalling it has to be said, but particularly so in Nenagh, where certain peculiarities of the physical layout of the town make driving especially unpleasant.

Take the "virtual" roundabouts, for instance. There are two of them in Nenagh at key junctions. Neither of the junctions are really wide enough to facilitate the roundabouts, but there they are nonetheless. It has to be said that they are a marked improvement on what was there before - traffic lights. Before it was bypassed some years ago, Nenagh used to be on the N7, the main road from Dublin to Limerick. On Bank Holiday weekends, the traffic through the town was incredibly heavy, making it next to impossible to drive from one part of the town to the other (and Nenagh ain't a big town). Then some bright spark realised that part of the problem was the sequencing of the traffic lights - it just couldn't cope with the increased traffic flow. Mr. Bright Spark came up with the wonderful idea of switching off the traffic lights at weekends and, hey presto, the traffic flowed - slowly but smoothly. Once everyone realised that the lights were off, they approached the junctions with caution and common sense. Everyone got through the junctions and I've never heard of any serious accidents occurring as a result of Mr. Bright Spark's brainwave.

So the next logical step was to remove the traffic lights, which was done a couple of years ago. Initially, the roundabouts were denoted by low, circular plastic domes, like big hubcaps in the centres of the roundabouts, but these disappeared within a few weeks. Now there's a large circle painted in each centre.

The warm and fuzzy afterglow of Mr. Bright Spark's moment of inspiration quickly faded when some clueless dimwit decided that what was "really" needed to enhance the roundabouts were pedestrian crossings. Take the "virtual" roundabout at the T-junction on Pearse Street and Kickham Street. Taking the centre of the roundabout as, well, the centre of the roundabout, each "branch" radiating from the centre has a pedestrian crossing, situated possible no more than 10m from the centre in each direction. That's very tight, as I'm sure you will agree, and makes for slow progress. It is not uncommon for one to have to stop at, say, Crossing A to let a pedestrian cross Kickham Street and then, after turning left into Pearse Street to have to stop at Crossing B to let that same pedestrian cross Pearse Street. This would be bad enough if the pedestrian in question was doing the decent thing and thinking, "ooh, I'm holding up that good-looking young man in that lovely Lexus - I'd better hurry along and let him go on his way." But no. Pedestrians, when approaching the crossings in Nenagh, seem to slip into a parallel universe where they drift (rather than stroll) across the road, all the while wondering "did I turn off the immersion?" or "should I have eaten that tin of dog-food?" in a state closely resembling somnambulism.

When I was growing up, there was a slew of road safety short films on the telly. One that I remember particularly well was the film which clearly stated that before using a pedestrian crossing, the pedestrian was supposed to put one foot on the road to signal her/his intent to cross. I seem to be the only person in Ireland who remembers that short film, and quite clearly, nobody has told anybody in the last forty years that you can't just waltz onto a zebra crossing as if you're the Sultan of Brunei. Because that's what they do - they don't even look up to see if any car is approaching - it's a case of "oh, there's the bank, must get some cash from the Drinklink machine". About two years ago, as I was approaching the above-mentioned Crossing B, this rather large, hair-straightened, fake-tanned, bottle blonde with an arse the size of Lichtenstein, chatting with her mate, decided that now was the time to cross the street to buy a packet of fags. So she stepped out in front of me just like that. I had to jam-on the brakes in order to avoid a collision. All I got for my trouble was "the look" (insolence mixed with aggression, as if to say "go on, I dare ya. Hit me. A nice compo claim would pay for two weeks in Ibiza"). Good job I didn't hit her - her enormous posterior would've made shite of the front of the Lexus and she'd've hardly felt a thing...

So, between the pedestrian crossings and the articulated trucks trying to negotiate the implausible junction between Pearse Street and McDonagh Street and the loolahs with the Burberry caps doing 180s in the middle of the road with their stupid, souped-up Civics, you'll understand that I'm not a big fan of the "virtual" roundabouts...

...but that's not what I'm here about today.

At the end of the school run, having passed the library, the entrance to Ormond Keep and the pedestrian crossing (and speed bump) at the boy's primary school, one then comes upon an "offset" crossroads (not sure if I'm explaining this properly, but the turns to the left (Melrose) and right (the New Line) are not directly aligned to each other). Anyhow, at the crossroads I normally turn right to head down towards Tesco and then out the Borrisokane Road to go onto the Peripherique...

...normally, that is, except for this morning. The traffic had stopped for some unknown reason and there were two cars ahead of me. There are some extensive roadworks being carried out at the moment about 200m straight through the crossroads on the Dromin Road. I thought that there might be a traffic jam up ahead which had extended back towards me. A certain amount of jigging-about in my seat and peering intently into the distance indicated that there was no traffic jam. What I did see was some lady in a Laguna coming off the New Line very tentatively onto the crossroads itself. I just got the impression that the lady was not at all sure that she should be doing what she was doing...

...and the only reason she was doing what she was doing was that the clown (politeness prevents me from calling the person a Total Fecking Gobshite) two cars ahead of me, who was supposedly driving straight through the crossroads and who had the right-of-way, decided that today was the day to be polite to other road users. So he/she/it just stopped in the middle of the road and let Laguna Lady through the junction. Now, I wouldn't have minded if the road ahead of the TFG had been jammed with traffic and the said person was trying not to block Laguna Lady's progress. But no - there was no blockage. The TFG just stopped the car in the middle of the road and effectively said, "after you, m'dear..."

And to make matters worse, the TFG then turned his/her/its attention to the lady in the Peugeot coming from the Melrose side of the crossroads and decided to wave her along too.

At this, I lost the rag completely. I pulled the car out on the wrong side of the road, and just as Madame Peugeot turned through the crossroads, I jammed-on the brakes, blared the horn (not at Madame Peugeot (other than to warn her of my presence on the wrong side of the road) but at the TFG) and then proceeded to turn onto the New Line, using all 240 of the Lexus' bhp to spin the rear wheels spectacularly and noisily. I high-tailed it home before the shock of the incident hit me.

I'm not proud of what happened. Nobody got hurt, but they could've so easily. My apologies to Madame Peugeot.

But the point I want to make ("at last", sez you) is this. There are formal rules governing the use of the roads and highways. But there is also an unspoken code whereby other motorists have a legitimate expectation that you, as a motorist, will assert your own rights on the road. And not act like the clowns in Ireland who, when on "proper" roundabouts (thereby having the right of way to proceed through the roundabout), decide to stop on the roundabout to let someone else (who doesn't have the right of way) onto the roundabout. Just imagine the scenario. The clown is free to enter the roundabout, as there is no traffic either on the roundabout already or approaching from the right. Clown enters the roundabout. You are behind Clown, and as there still is no traffic approaching from the right and as Clown is in motion, you feel safe to follow. But then Clown decides "oh, there's Mrs. Smith. She wants to get onto the roundabout", so Clown stops and you plough into Clown's tail - with no leg to stand on as the following car is generally deemed to be at fault for travelling too close to the car in front. Even though if Clown had kept going, you would have been a perfectly safe distance behind.

I mean, Jesus Christ, how thick can people be?

Rant over...

Regards,


djp

My Top 10 iPod tracks - 01/10/2007

1. (9) - Manchester (demo) - Brendan James
2. (-) - Child In Time (live) - Deep Purple
3. (-) - Jackson - Johnny Cash
4. (-) - Suicide (live) - Thin Lizzy
5. (6) - Teddy Pickers - Arctic Monkeys
6. (-) - Supercharge Dub - Augustus Pablo
7. (-) - Let's Go Away For A While - The Beach Boys
8. (-) - Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want - Clayhill
9. (1) - Scream Like A Baby - David Bowie
10. (-) - American Rock - Denim

Regards,

djp

Mousecapades

OK, this is going to be a long one, so if you've got something you need to do, do it right now and get back to me later, OK?

Long-standing (or even sitting) readers of this blog will recall that some months ago, one of our cats, Li'l Momma, went missing. She came back after a week, but a couple of weeks later she disappeared again and hasn't been seen since. Presumably, she's MIA(oww).

For the record...



Anyway, we still have two other cats:-



Panther...





... and Poppy
Panther is an elegant cat - slightly aloof but generally quite amenable. Poppy, on the other hand, is a bit of a loony. She's fat and ungainly and she snores. She loves attention but she's a tad narky.

Both cats are inclined to hunt, and I have had to dispose of the remains of dead chicks and mice (generally the tail-ends thereof) on many an occasion.

Which makes this tale rather odd and very remarkable...

A few weeks ago, I looked out our kitchen window and saw a shape on the concrete path under the rotary clothesline. This is normally the pickup place for the half-carcasses, so I assumed that what I was looking at now was the end result of a night's hunting. Some minutes later I was out in the back garden and as I passed near the clothesline, I looked across to the concrete path...and noticed that the shape was moving, almost imperceptibly.

At this stage, I reckoned that the beast was seriously injured and that I might have to put it out of its misery in some way. While I was pondering how I was going to do this, Poppy wandered over to the path and stood directly over the beast.

On closer investigation, I saw that the beast seemed to be a field mouse and that it was still alive. I reckoned that it must be in some state of shock (I'd seen this previously with a pet rabbit which had escaped from its hutch and which had been cornered by a cat - it just froze from fright).

Well, there wasn't much I could do for the field mouse, and I had other things to do anyway, so I left it to the tender mercies of Poppy and went about my business.

About an hour later, I came back to garden and saw that the field mouse was still there, with no sign of Poppy. It was still moving very slowly and slightly. I went to the garden shed to get something and on my return, I noticed that the field mouse had actually turned around 180 degrees.

Next thing I knew, Poppy came back on the scene and approached the field mouse in a threatening manner. The field mouse decided at this stage to make a dart for freedom. Poppy followed slowly. I feared that Poppy might make a lunge for the field mouse, so I clapped my hands loudly. If I did, the field mouse leapt into the air, and if s/he did that, Poppy did likewise, chasing the field mouse towards the garden shed and eventually grabbing the beast in her mouth. I chased Poppy around the back of the shed. Poppy, not used to being chased, panicked and let the field mouse drop from her mouth - the field mouse, cleverly, ran under the shed, where Poppy, in all her obesity, couldn't follow.

So far so good, but it gets better...

... a few hours later, I was again out in the back garden and there was Poppy, standing guard over her little friend again. This time, I decide to intervene. I got a fire shovel and tried to scoop up the field mouse. My plan was to get the mouse onto the shovel and then try to "dump" it into the ditch at the back of the house. But I had never tried to get a live field mouse onto a fire shovel before - the field mouse was definitely having none of it, so after a few minutes I abandoned my efforts. The field mouse ran in under the oil tank for the central heating and disappeared.

End of story?

No, because a few weeks later, I looked out the kitchen window again, and there was Poppy, playing with her field mouse friend again. Bizarrely, it almost seems as if Poppy had adopted the beast as her pet (or her plaything). Certainly, no harm was coming to the field mouse...

...and from that day to this, there has been no trace of a half-dismembered field mouse in the back garden.

Strange or what?

Regards,

djp

Athens

I was in Athens last week for a few days on business. In many ways, it's like Lisbon. Some nice old buildings (and I don't mean the Parthenon...) but a city badly in need of a few billion euro being spent on it.

Like in Lisbon, the natives of Athens are not particularly friendly (the impatient saleslady in the icon shop being a case in point), but they are marginally more polite than their colleagues in Portugal.

Weather was very pleasant - 31c last Saturday, and neither particularly humid nor hot on the skin. Good weather for walking around in.

Athens wouldn't be in my top 10 cities in the world, but I'd certainly consider a short winter break there if I got a good deal.

Regards,


djp

So...

...I've finally worked out how to put a title on my postings. Of course, all you guys are breaking your holes laughing at me because you knew how to do it all along and I didn't. But I'm only a t'ick Paddy - how am I supposed to know this stuff???

Regards,


djp

My Top 10 iPod tracks - 01/09/2007

1. (-) - Scream Like A Baby - David Bowie
2. (-) - Enemies - The Radiators
3. (-) - Enough Time - The Stranglers
4. (-) - Selling Yourself Short - What Made Milwaukee Famous
5. (-) - Keep On Trying Version - The Aggrovators
6. (-) - Teddy Pickers - Arctic Monkeys
7. (-) - Danger In Your Eyes - Aswad
8. (-) - Weissensee - Autechre
9. (-) - Manchester (demo) - Brendan James
10. (-) - I'm In Great Shape/I Wanna Be Around/Workshop - Brian Wilson

Regards,

djp

No Stone Unthrown

Our office borders on to a local council estate. Along the boundary wall on the council estate side there is a green area which is something like 40-50 yds long. On our office side there are car parking spaces. The office building is maybe 10-20 yds away from the boundary wall.

There have been recent incidents of people throwing (or otherwise propelling) golf balls at the office windows directly parallel to the green area. Nobody knows who is breaking the windows, but it would not be unreasonable to at least suspect that some of the vandals might, perhaps, be residents of the council estate (all those qualifications...).

Yesterday, at work, one of the lads in the office mentioned that there were kids throwing stones at the cars parked in the spaces along the boundary wall. I decided to do a bit of discreet investigation, so I went to the gents' convenience which overlooks the boundary wall.

Looking out the window, there was little to be seen initially. There was some bits and pieces of assorted junk in the green area and what looked like a young tree which had been knocked over or cut down. Within a minute or so, this young boy, possibly 9 or 10 years old, light hair and wearing a purplish hoody, strolled onto the green area, followed quickly thereafter by another young boy with a light blue T-shirt and dark hair. He was probably around the same age as Hoody. The last of the trio to appear was a little girl with long blonde hair, tied back in a pony-tail. She was 5 or 6 years old max.

Suspecting that something was about to happen, I opened the convenience window a crack more to get a better view. Within a minute, Hoody had hauled himself up the boundary wall and was (for want of a better expression) draped over it. Next thing, he starts throwing small pebbles at the windscreen of a Citroen Xsara Picasso that was directly in front of him. After another minute, he progressed to pouring gravel onto the bonnet of the car from some form of container like a cocoa tin.

At this point, I decided to ring our building managers to advise them of the situation.

Bad and all as Hoody had been up to this stage, he really stepped over the line when he started dropping rocks onto the bonnet of the Citroen. Whatever damage the pebbles and gravel might have done, there was no doubt that the rocks were doing serious harm.

I got out my camera phone and tried to take some photos of the carry-on, but I was not at all confident that they would come out OK. So I decided to shout out the window at Hoody, who by this stage had slid down from the wall and was ambling around the green area.

"Hoi", I shouted, "I've got your picture on my camera!".

Hoody merely pulled his hood over his head, covered his face with his hand á la Martin Cahill and flipped me the bird.

While all this was going on, little Blondey was running around the green area having a great time. When I shouted at her that I was going to take her picture, she shouted back to me "I don't give TWO SHITS!"

All three kids then proceeded to hide behind the felled tree.

When I was kid (and up to divilment as was my wont from time to time), I'd practically crap meself if some adult caught me in the act and shouted at me. But now...

Well, you know, at this stage, there really wasn't much point doing anymore about this. The appropriate authorities had been informed, so I want back to my desk and discussed the issue with my colleagues.

Apparently the cops turned up to hunt the kids away, but they came back within minutes.

I don't know what the fallout of this will be. I don't know if the kids were local to the estate, and I'm not saying that they are, but it would not be unreasonable to at least suspect...

Regards,


djp

Warning!!!

...and speaking of iPods...

Do NOT download/install Version 7.3.2.6 of iTunes. It totally screwed up my iPod, requiring me to "restore" the device and re-load my tunes, which was a real pain in the bum as I had more tunes archived than I have capacity to play on the iPod, so I had to go through the archive and select tracks individually. I almost got RSI as a result.

And of course, playlists and count info were lost as a result. Bum-mer.

Essentially, iTunes would not eject the iPod properly, so any changes would not be saved. After much to-ing and fro-ing (incl. several deletions/reloads of iTunes), I finally got the software to work using Version 7.2. Everything is tickety-boo on a going forward basis.

Seems there's a lot of grief on the Apple forums in relation to V.7.3.2.6 and Apple appear to be less than helpful in their responses ("OK, is the iPod connected? OK, are you wearing odd socks?").

It's always useful to keep things in perspective and my tribulations with iTunes are as nothing when compared to the plight of those poor souls in Darfur, but I really hate it when shit I've paid for doesn't work.

Speaking of which, my Canon printer is on the blink. Always happens when I change cartridges...

Regards,


djp

A close shave

I suppose I can count this as a lucky escape...

I have been an enthusiastic user of most aspects of the internet since 1996, and although I've had a few "moments" online (principally, the occasional "flame war" between various people who, like me, really had too much time on their hands and should have been living in the real world for a change), I've never really had a serious problem to date.

Until this week, that is...

...it all started with my damn iPod. It's only (listen to him - "only") a 30 Gb model and I have maxed it out on a number of occasions, so a half-notion was half-forming in my head that maybe I should trade up to a larger model. And everything would've been fine if that half-notion had remained in its incomplete state and locked away in the old noodle...

...unfortunately, last Sunday, after a nice trip to the local pizzeria where a rather lovely pepperoni pizza was washed down by a rather fine South African Merlot, to be followed by more than one digestif in the local boozer, I arrived home after midnight, feeling nicely anaesthetised. And instead of doing the right thing (i.e. going straight to bed and having a nice little kip for meself) what did I do but log onto Ebay.

Now, I'm a great lad for setting retroactive rules and breaking them proactively. And the greatest (and most broken) of all these rules is "Never Go Online Drunk". How do you think all those "flame wars" mentioned above started? Normally I'm a quiet, reserved individual with little to say for myself and with a deep respect for the opinions of my fellow human beings. But after a few beers, I can get a little...er...assertive. Always, in retrospect, I chide myself most severely for the stupidity of my actions which are utterly predictable and totally avoidable. But how quickly we forget.

Anyway, I think you can see how this tale is developing:-

1. - perceived need for a new iPod
2. - rather a lot of liquid ballast on board
3. - Ebay

In the space of about ten minutes, I was "inspired" to put bids on 8 separate 80Gb iPods. Now, in fairness to me, the maximum bid I put on each of the iPods was significantly less than what I expected the yokes to go for in auction. But that's not the point - worst case scenario, if each of those bids had, for whatever reason, been successful, I would have been the befuddled owner of 8 iPods at a cost to the exchequer of about €1,800.

OK, I would probably would have been able to move my surplus on through Ebay, but how long would it take to do that? And would I make my money back?

So, you can understand how I felt on Monday morning when I'd realised what I'd done ("blind panic" would be a pretty good description) . I logged onto Ebay to see how things were going, and realised with horror that I was the top bidder for all 8 iPods. Now, all of the auctions had different finishing times, so in one sense the potential financial calamity I faced was somewhat diluted. Having said that, the agony was also prolonged, in that it would take a number of days for all the auctions to work through the system.

You must understand that it's not as if I've never been on Ebay before. I know how these auctions work - long periods of relative inactivity, and then a flurry of bidding and counter-bidding as the auction comes to a close. So logic told me that there really was no problem - I'd be outbid in all auctions and I'd live to tell this as an amusing tale to the lads in the tea-break next week. But logic is a poor friend to have when you're looking at the auctions regularly and seeing little sign of being outbid.

Of course, the story ends well. I was outbid on all 8 auctions, so I have come through the experience with my finances intact, my slack ways identified and a strict vow of sobriety online proposed (again).

I could still do with a bigger iPod though...:-)

Regards,

djp

My Top 10 iPod tracks - 01/08/2007

1. (3) - My Favourite Game - The Cardigans
2. (-) - Europop - The Divine Comedy
3. (-) - Sunbursts In - Eyeless In Gaza
4. (5) - Easy Love - Gorky's Zygotic Mynci
5. (-) - This Earth That You Walk Upon - Simple Minds
6. (-) - Masquerade - The Skids
7. (7) - One My Love - Sly & Robbie
8. (-) - Cold Sweat - Albert King
9. (2) - Message Oblique Speech - The Associates
10. (-) - One Way Ticket - The Darkness

Regards,

djp

I wash me face, I wash me hands, I wash me...

Got back yesterday from my trip to London. All tired and shopped-out, but it was worth it. And Arsenal won the Emirates Cup too, so everyone was happy (apart from the fans of Paris Saint-Germain, Inter Milan and Valencia that is...)

Taking things nice and easy today. Back to work tomorrow.

Exciting life I lead, eh?

Regards,


djp

Ticketmaster puzzle

Last Sunday, we were supposed to be going to the All-Ireland Hurling Quarter Finals in Croke Park, where Tipperary were to play Wexford and Kilkenny to play Galway. Unfortunately, due to the death of the Kilkenny keeper's wife in a car-crash, the games were postponed to this coming Saturday...

...which was somewhat unfortunate for me in that I had already booked to go to London to watch Arsenal play in the Emirates Cup. Double-booked as it were.

I'd booked the e-tickets for Croker off Ticketmaster, one each for Mrs et moi and one for Younger Daughter. The GAA said that refunds were available from point of sale but the Ticketmaster website was a little bit ambiguous in relation to refunds. I eventually found a part of their site which related to cancellations and reschedulings. Essentially, it said to return the tickets to the Customer Service office in Dubln by secure post.

Mrs and YD decided that they would go to the games anyway, so I was only looking for a refund for my own ticket. Yesterday, I wrote to Ticketmaster, enclosing my e-ticket and requesting my refund. I sent it off to Dublin by registered post - cost me €5, which I thought was a bit stiff, but still...

In my letter to Ticketmaster I said I would also be sending them the text of my letter by e-mail. Given the tight timescale involved, I didn't want to give Ticketmaster the opportunity to welsh on the deal by saying that they hadn't received my letter in time. Safety first, doncha know.

I sent off the e-mail before I headed to the Post Office with my letter. Imagine my surprise when I got back from the Post Office to find an e-mail in my inbox, telling me that my refund had been processed already.

Quick response time, I acknowledge, but I wonder would the e-mail have been sufficient to get my refund? Did I really have to spend €5 to send my letter and e-ticket to Dublin?

Puzzling, but in the context of the tragic accident in Kilkenny, hardly of the highest importance in the overall scheme of things...

Regards,


djp

Ingmar Bergman

The combination of the appalling weather we've been having over here for over a month (36 days since there was a totally dry one, apparently) and the fact that TV is usually crap over the summer meant that last night, I actually found myself watching an Ingmar Bergman movie, "Journey into Autumn" (I think).

I'd never watched a Bergman movie before and I only stuck with this one for about 30 mins. Can't say if Bergman's characters are typical Swedes - I only know one Swedish chap personally and he's a real family man.

Let's just say that the movie was beautifully photographed (it was) and the B/W print was gorgeous (it was, lovely and warm in an "analogue" sort of way). I've never been in Stockholm apart for a few hours spent in transit at the airport, but the location shots looked very attractive - very European in a way that Dublin isn't. Of course, the film came out in 1955, so the locations are probably all demolished at this stage. Might travel to Stockholm some time, but it would help if they had the euro...

Regards,


djp

Panic

This morning, I was having a nice cup of coffee in my favourite café (Café Q), when some bizarre music came on over the PA.

The normal soundtrack in the café is yer usual lite jazz - pleasant and appropriate for the ambience. But this morning, as I was sipping my coffee, I heard an Andrews Sisters-style arrangement of a song, the lyrics of which seemed to be strangely familiar. A few more seconds elapsed before I realised it was a cover of the Smiths' "Panic". I had never heard the cover version before and I was, frankly, gobsmacked. The cover worked well in an ironic sort of way. Kinda curious about what Morrissey's reaction to it would be, though...

If anyone can identify the artist, please help a brother out!

Regards,


djp

Gasping for Oxegen

My elder daughter (just turned 17) is currently at the Oxegen Festival at Punchestown Racecourse.

We got a phonecall from her this morning, and according to her, the mud is only ferocious up there. Two more days of that will soften her cough for her...:-).

Going to festivals is such a rite of passage, isn't it? I did my turn at the helm back in the 80s, and I was glad when the time came to pass on the baton to those with more energy (and less imagination) than me. I can only describe my trip to the Electric Picnic two years ago as an (enjoyable) aberration.

Down with (parentheses)...

Regards,


djp

End of the holliers

I've been on vacation since the end of May and I'll be going back to work next Monday (July 9), but only for two days. It's an interesting existence I have all the same...:-).

I got a lot of things done during my holiday (few of which were planned, truth to tell) and quite a number of things which I intended having a go at are still on my "To Do" list (including creating a "To Do" list in the first place). Still, that's all part of life's rich tapestry, as we used to say in Castleisland.

I'm feeling well rested after my long break and, as I understand that things have been functioning OK in my absence, I can face the prospect of returning to the office without much trepidation. Now, that's something you won't get me to admit very often!

Regards,


djp