Another apology is due to David, and thanks for your comments.
I guess I should sign in to my gmail account more often (I tend not to remain logged in as this seems to build up a history of its own whichever computer you're logged in on...).
The question raised at the beginning of this piece was 'How DO people keep this thing going on a regular basis?'- and I guess that some people do so by having a certain level of commitment to the task at hand- as well as believing that what they say and do is interesting enough to share with others (with varying degrees of success).
Trying to balance shifts with quality home time and the needs of this divorced father's rapidly growing kids often seems to wrong foot me, and I appear to slip into some kind of time warp (or perhaps dreamtime), where I suddenly realise a month or two's gone by in the blink of an eye and I've missed a complete credit crunch (among other wordly things).
Having just had a week off I should have no excuse, but you'd best talk to my red-wined / single-malted / cognaced / beer soaked liver about that...
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Good News, Bad News
'Good News, Bad News', apart from being the title of a track by 70s rocksters 'Family', is the title of this post.
The more astute among you will have realised this already.
The good news referred to is that the idiots who pushed the lady on to the railway track because she asked them to stop smoking have been nabbed by the Police.
Good job I say.
The bad news?
I've just found out that some bright spark is trying to go all Manhattan on FITZROVIA and rename it 'Noho'.
Wo-ho.
That's a no no.
The residents, quite rightly, are strongly resisting this geographically ridiculous appellation.
'NoHo' works for New Yorkers, because it's formed by being NOrth of HOuston Street while equally their 'SoHo' is formed from being SOuth of HOuston Street. Apparently.
'Soho!', again apparently, is a hunting cry harking back to that area of London's more rural history.
So what did developers here think? That SOHO comes from SOuth of HOxford Street?
'Noho' in London's case therefore means 'nada'.
Talking of history, FITZROVIA (for it is so named) is being rather callously ravaged at the moment (I believe it's called 'revitalisation' or some such nonsense). If this particular course of action is too late to avert, at least have the decency to leave the area with some dignity (and its name, 'FITZROVIA') intact- or watch as 'Noho' becomes either a synonym for 'NO HOpe' or 'NOw HOrrendous'.
The more astute among you will have realised this already.
The good news referred to is that the idiots who pushed the lady on to the railway track because she asked them to stop smoking have been nabbed by the Police.
Good job I say.
The bad news?
I've just found out that some bright spark is trying to go all Manhattan on FITZROVIA and rename it 'Noho'.
Wo-ho.
That's a no no.
The residents, quite rightly, are strongly resisting this geographically ridiculous appellation.
'NoHo' works for New Yorkers, because it's formed by being NOrth of HOuston Street while equally their 'SoHo' is formed from being SOuth of HOuston Street. Apparently.
'Soho!', again apparently, is a hunting cry harking back to that area of London's more rural history.
So what did developers here think? That SOHO comes from SOuth of HOxford Street?
'Noho' in London's case therefore means 'nada'.
Talking of history, FITZROVIA (for it is so named) is being rather callously ravaged at the moment (I believe it's called 'revitalisation' or some such nonsense). If this particular course of action is too late to avert, at least have the decency to leave the area with some dignity (and its name, 'FITZROVIA') intact- or watch as 'Noho' becomes either a synonym for 'NO HOpe' or 'NOw HOrrendous'.
Saturday, 9 August 2008
Human Nature (again)
Harking back to my 'rant' of a few postings ago, I noticed a posting that adds weight to my 'case'. Check out Police Inspector Blog dated 06/08/08, and click through to the link to the BBC News story.
This relates to a public spirited woman who asked a couple of people not to smoke on a Station platform.
For her troubles, she was pushed onto the track- and helped up by other decent folk on the platform.
She was lucky not to have been killed.
These days 'What IS the world coming to?' is a question I don't think I want to hear the answer to...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/kent/7544748.stm
This relates to a public spirited woman who asked a couple of people not to smoke on a Station platform.
For her troubles, she was pushed onto the track- and helped up by other decent folk on the platform.
She was lucky not to have been killed.
These days 'What IS the world coming to?' is a question I don't think I want to hear the answer to...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/kent/7544748.stm
Monday, 4 August 2008
Human Story
My previous posting troubles now seemingly a thing of the past, I wanted to share something I found via fellow Underground blogger London Underground Life's blog.
It's pertinent to my previous 'rant' about human nature.
It shows a very human story from our side of things.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2008/jul/19/healthandwellbeing6
It's pertinent to my previous 'rant' about human nature.
It shows a very human story from our side of things.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2008/jul/19/healthandwellbeing6
Sunday, 3 August 2008
What's Occurring..?
I've been having some trouble with getting the amended version of my last post (the formatting went gaga on the previous version).
Almost looks like there are two versions of this blog. Which is probably not a good thing.
Watch this space...
Almost looks like there are two versions of this blog. Which is probably not a good thing.
Watch this space...
Human Nature: A Rant
Here's the thing:I'm formulating these words on a night shift, and publishing later from home. If I still feel grumpy enough. Which I probably will.
What it comes down to, in this occasional blog of mine, is the feeling that one must never underestimate a small percentage of the travelling public's ability to be a liability to themselves and anybody within a 100 yard radius. You may have surmised from this statement that I work for the much maligned London Underground- in which case give yourself a cigar (but please don't smoke it down here).
So- I work for London Underground. Don't judge me. You don't really know me.
Besides, if you're reading this, you most likely have impeccable taste and are pretty well bound to be a decent sort.
Take for instance the other night, when I had occasion to hit the pre-recorded 'Flash photography is not allowed…' button five times, then make a live announcement, then actually leave the office to berate the person/s responsible, as none of the above prevented the aforesaid miscreants from carrying out their image gathering activities.
When I told the person chiefly (un)concerned that flash photography is not allowed on the Underground, they aked 'Why?' in their best three year old voice.
'Because it's not allowed.'
'Whyyyyy…..???' Came the response.
'Just DON'T DO IT!' I replied, and stormed back into my office.
In an attempt to be fair, I will give the person involved a little clue as to why flash photography is not allowed.
We have big moving things (that's physically moving, not emotionally so) called trains, which are driven by human beings (AKA 'Train Operators').Human beings (AKA Train Operators), in the general course of things, have eyes. These tend to interact in various ways with light.
To understand the possible effect of your actions, go out for a drive, and take a full facial flash picture of yourself as you do*, remembering not to blink as you do so.You may find this less than conducive to road safety. You may feel an instinctive urge to hit the brake as you have just temporarily blinded yourself.
If a Train Operator instinctively hits the brake because they are temporarily unable to see their correct stopping mark- remember, going through signals at red is not only frowned on, it's downright dangerous- the potential for injury is vast. Thanks to your narcissistic tendencies.
You are not alone in your foolhardiness though.In my time working for the Underground I've personally encountered (apart from the pretty much blameless people listed here, such as four Person Under Train scenarios, people having fits, an elderly gentleman having an angina attack, people passing out through heat or medical conditions, someone twisting their ankle, someone gashing their shins and passing out as a result, assisting the victim of a sex crime, a tenant having been attacked with a baseball bat, victims of pickpocketing and dozens of people leaving their wallets / mobile phones / laptops on the train etc) the following:
People sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the platform, with the next train a minute away.
A parent dragging their child along a crowded platform on their 'wheelie heels', presumably for fun.
People skateboarding on the platform.
People kicking a football to each other on the platform.
People walking across the track to get to the opposite platform.
People riding bikes along the platform.
Kids riding scooters along the platforms accompanied by their parents.
A parent who didn't like being advised that her two young children would be better not to sit unsteadily on their bikes on the platform, but rather stand beside them, holding them- for their own safety (i.e. not dying by falling onto the track.
People who suddenly shove their partner / friend towards, and subsequently grab their partner back from, the platform edge as the train comes in- presumably (again) for fun. Variations include lifting their partner bodily and making out they're going to drop them onto the track in front of the train. Oh ha ha. My ribs.
People who think it's funny to suddenly put their hand out in front of the train as it reaches them on the platform.
A person defiantly smoking on a train, because of whom someone else pulls the Passenger Emergency Alarm.
Parents letting their kids hang upside down from the safety rails / straps on trains.
Parents letting their kids pull the Passenger Emergency Alarm on the train.
People walking through moving trains via the interconnecting doors. Yes- it IS dangerous. Grow up and stop doing it- unless your life is in danger.
People too drunk to get home of their own volition because they can't handle their drink- including a fifteen year old girl, and a posh Surbitonite who told me to 'Fuck off'. Who the police later took away.
People abusing Station Staff for no other reason than that their life obviously sucks and they have no friends and it's everybody else's fault but their own.
People urinating in public areas on Stations. Even those with available toilet facilities. A girl urinating on a platform bench / in a Station bicycle area / in the mid circulating area of Baker Street Station / in an underpass, at a bus stop etc.
People vomiting on platforms.
A girl exposing her breasts.
A man exposing.. himself.
People falling down stairs drunk and injuring themselves.
People having rushed out with no breakfast, who then promptly faint on packed trains during the morning peak.
People falling onto the tracks drunk. And surviving.
People being racist.
People being abusive.
Fist fights.
Hair pulling name calling face scratching loud screaming floor rolling head rocking 'You don't even KNOW my sister' mocking schoolgirl fights.
Assaults both physical and verbal on Station Staff.
'Druggie' behaviour- you know- 'You'll die in a rain of fire.' kind of crap.
Wino behaviour- you know, like punching a female member of staff.
Beer being poured over staff members.
Fellow members of Staff being deeply upset by the effects of terrorism.
Somebody operating the Passenger Emergency Alarm on a train because they'd left their unconcerned adult friend behind on the platform.
Colleagues passing away.
Parents letting their young children stand on the seats of moving trains.
People putting their empty drinks bottle down on the stairs down to the platform.
People sitting / laying in the middle of busy sets of stairs.
A woman getting upset with Staff because she'd given her Oystercard to her three year old to play with, who'd promptly 'posted it' irretrievably into an immovable piece of equipment.
People dropping slippery sandwich fillings, liquids, broken glass etc. etc. onto the platform and walking off without moving it out of harm's way or reporting it.
Someone coughing in my face without putting their hand in front of their mouth.
Dealing with unattended items on platforms and trains- and evacuating Stations.
Kids throwing stones at moving trains, shattering windows.
People standing the wrong side of the yellow line as the train approaches.
People pushing in front of other people to get on a near empty train.
People not stepping aside to let other people get off the train.
People eating vomitously smelly food on trains.
People leaning out over the track as the train approaches.
Graffitti 'artists'.
People doubling through ticket gates.
People jumping over ticket gates.
People crawling through the luggage gate straps.
People with crappy music playing out over their crappy mobile phones. Or through tinny earphones.
People allowing their dog to crap on the platform.
A toy train left by a child- on an out of town section of track.
People who upon my answering of their question say; 'Wouldn't it be better to do such and such?', the answer to which will always be 'yes', even if they will subsequently be going the wrong way. For a very long time.
Torrents of bad language.
Threats.
Spitting.
Littering.
Gum on seats.
The witless. The self important. The humourless. The aggressive. The arrogant. The vague. The misguided. The thoughtless. The careless. The gormless. The pointless. The soulless. The downright rude.
The woman who failed her suicide attempt.
The headless body of the man who didn't.
The distraught Train Operators...
But it's not all doom and gloom. I get to go home sometimes.
And there are a lot perfectly decent folk out there- some of whom actually make going to work a pleasure.
*For purposes of illustrating a point only. Do not really do this. I mean it
What it comes down to, in this occasional blog of mine, is the feeling that one must never underestimate a small percentage of the travelling public's ability to be a liability to themselves and anybody within a 100 yard radius. You may have surmised from this statement that I work for the much maligned London Underground- in which case give yourself a cigar (but please don't smoke it down here).
So- I work for London Underground. Don't judge me. You don't really know me.
Besides, if you're reading this, you most likely have impeccable taste and are pretty well bound to be a decent sort.
Take for instance the other night, when I had occasion to hit the pre-recorded 'Flash photography is not allowed…' button five times, then make a live announcement, then actually leave the office to berate the person/s responsible, as none of the above prevented the aforesaid miscreants from carrying out their image gathering activities.
When I told the person chiefly (un)concerned that flash photography is not allowed on the Underground, they aked 'Why?' in their best three year old voice.
'Because it's not allowed.'
'Whyyyyy…..???' Came the response.
'Just DON'T DO IT!' I replied, and stormed back into my office.
In an attempt to be fair, I will give the person involved a little clue as to why flash photography is not allowed.
We have big moving things (that's physically moving, not emotionally so) called trains, which are driven by human beings (AKA 'Train Operators').Human beings (AKA Train Operators), in the general course of things, have eyes. These tend to interact in various ways with light.
To understand the possible effect of your actions, go out for a drive, and take a full facial flash picture of yourself as you do*, remembering not to blink as you do so.You may find this less than conducive to road safety. You may feel an instinctive urge to hit the brake as you have just temporarily blinded yourself.
If a Train Operator instinctively hits the brake because they are temporarily unable to see their correct stopping mark- remember, going through signals at red is not only frowned on, it's downright dangerous- the potential for injury is vast. Thanks to your narcissistic tendencies.
You are not alone in your foolhardiness though.In my time working for the Underground I've personally encountered (apart from the pretty much blameless people listed here, such as four Person Under Train scenarios, people having fits, an elderly gentleman having an angina attack, people passing out through heat or medical conditions, someone twisting their ankle, someone gashing their shins and passing out as a result, assisting the victim of a sex crime, a tenant having been attacked with a baseball bat, victims of pickpocketing and dozens of people leaving their wallets / mobile phones / laptops on the train etc) the following:
People sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the platform, with the next train a minute away.
A parent dragging their child along a crowded platform on their 'wheelie heels', presumably for fun.
People skateboarding on the platform.
People kicking a football to each other on the platform.
People walking across the track to get to the opposite platform.
People riding bikes along the platform.
Kids riding scooters along the platforms accompanied by their parents.
A parent who didn't like being advised that her two young children would be better not to sit unsteadily on their bikes on the platform, but rather stand beside them, holding them- for their own safety (i.e. not dying by falling onto the track.
People who suddenly shove their partner / friend towards, and subsequently grab their partner back from, the platform edge as the train comes in- presumably (again) for fun. Variations include lifting their partner bodily and making out they're going to drop them onto the track in front of the train. Oh ha ha. My ribs.
People who think it's funny to suddenly put their hand out in front of the train as it reaches them on the platform.
A person defiantly smoking on a train, because of whom someone else pulls the Passenger Emergency Alarm.
Parents letting their kids hang upside down from the safety rails / straps on trains.
Parents letting their kids pull the Passenger Emergency Alarm on the train.
People walking through moving trains via the interconnecting doors. Yes- it IS dangerous. Grow up and stop doing it- unless your life is in danger.
People too drunk to get home of their own volition because they can't handle their drink- including a fifteen year old girl, and a posh Surbitonite who told me to 'Fuck off'. Who the police later took away.
People abusing Station Staff for no other reason than that their life obviously sucks and they have no friends and it's everybody else's fault but their own.
People urinating in public areas on Stations. Even those with available toilet facilities. A girl urinating on a platform bench / in a Station bicycle area / in the mid circulating area of Baker Street Station / in an underpass, at a bus stop etc.
People vomiting on platforms.
A girl exposing her breasts.
A man exposing.. himself.
People falling down stairs drunk and injuring themselves.
People having rushed out with no breakfast, who then promptly faint on packed trains during the morning peak.
People falling onto the tracks drunk. And surviving.
People being racist.
People being abusive.
Fist fights.
Hair pulling name calling face scratching loud screaming floor rolling head rocking 'You don't even KNOW my sister' mocking schoolgirl fights.
Assaults both physical and verbal on Station Staff.
'Druggie' behaviour- you know- 'You'll die in a rain of fire.' kind of crap.
Wino behaviour- you know, like punching a female member of staff.
Beer being poured over staff members.
Fellow members of Staff being deeply upset by the effects of terrorism.
Somebody operating the Passenger Emergency Alarm on a train because they'd left their unconcerned adult friend behind on the platform.
Colleagues passing away.
Parents letting their young children stand on the seats of moving trains.
People putting their empty drinks bottle down on the stairs down to the platform.
People sitting / laying in the middle of busy sets of stairs.
A woman getting upset with Staff because she'd given her Oystercard to her three year old to play with, who'd promptly 'posted it' irretrievably into an immovable piece of equipment.
People dropping slippery sandwich fillings, liquids, broken glass etc. etc. onto the platform and walking off without moving it out of harm's way or reporting it.
Someone coughing in my face without putting their hand in front of their mouth.
Dealing with unattended items on platforms and trains- and evacuating Stations.
Kids throwing stones at moving trains, shattering windows.
People standing the wrong side of the yellow line as the train approaches.
People pushing in front of other people to get on a near empty train.
People not stepping aside to let other people get off the train.
People eating vomitously smelly food on trains.
People leaning out over the track as the train approaches.
Graffitti 'artists'.
People doubling through ticket gates.
People jumping over ticket gates.
People crawling through the luggage gate straps.
People with crappy music playing out over their crappy mobile phones. Or through tinny earphones.
People allowing their dog to crap on the platform.
A toy train left by a child- on an out of town section of track.
People who upon my answering of their question say; 'Wouldn't it be better to do such and such?', the answer to which will always be 'yes', even if they will subsequently be going the wrong way. For a very long time.
Torrents of bad language.
Threats.
Spitting.
Littering.
Gum on seats.
The witless. The self important. The humourless. The aggressive. The arrogant. The vague. The misguided. The thoughtless. The careless. The gormless. The pointless. The soulless. The downright rude.
The woman who failed her suicide attempt.
The headless body of the man who didn't.
The distraught Train Operators...
But it's not all doom and gloom. I get to go home sometimes.
And there are a lot perfectly decent folk out there- some of whom actually make going to work a pleasure.
*For purposes of illustrating a point only. Do not really do this. I mean it
Thursday, 26 June 2008
El Zee
As an exercise (to keep myself awake on a night shift), I thought I'd compose a song / poem using song titles by a well known rock band. I know I should have stopped earlier (some might say before I wrote it), but the challenge was there, to include every last title (well, those according to Wikipedia). This may mean something to you...
El Zee
Ten Years Gone and I’m sitting on this Night Flight
I start to
Ramble On to Friends who do not know me.
How Many More Times will I be Going to California?
Drinking Tea for One up in the Ozone Baby?
For Your Life to me is What Is and What Should Never Be
I Can't Quit You Baby, but Your Time Is Gonna Come
You know You Shook Me, when you said Babe I'm Gonna Leave You
The Good Times Bad Times Rock And Roll me; Baby Come On Home
I’ve been Dazed and Confused by your Communication Breakdown
Since I've Been Loving You That's the Way it falls.
I'm Gonna Crawl Out on the Tiles and say 'Thank You'.
But Hey Hey What Can I Do? The Song Remains the Same in all
Bring It On Home my Living Loving Maid
I’ve got a Whole Lotta Love for you this Celebration Day
In My Time of Dying I’ll send you All My Love
Me and Black Dog- Over the Hills and Far Away
I will be The Rover on that last Stairway to Heaven
In Houses of the Holy I won’t be Trampled Under Foot
I’m no Fool In The Rain, I will hold No Quarter
‘til I, on that Black Mountain Side, my Four Sticks put
In The Light I’ll see The Ocean, sing The Rain Song Down By The Seaside
My Dancing Days are over though it’s Nobody's Fault But Mine.
Then In the Evening I’ll sing The Wanton Song with pride
And with my Black Country Woman, my Heartbreaker, entwine.
And When the Levee Breaks We're Gonna Groove with Darlene
Remember Bonzo's Montreux and eat Candy Store Rock
Poor Tom he got Sick Again on Custard Pie and Tangerine Hot Dog
Trying to Boogie With Stu who danced the Misty Mountain Hop
On a South Bound Saurez flight, Hots On for Nowhere
Wearing And Tearing out his Carouselambra soul
Walter's Walk brought him to the Royal Orleans in Kashmir
Watching Achilles Last Stand by the Gallows Pole
Once in White Summer the Bron-Y-Aur Stomp was raging
Hats Off to (Roy) Harper, who an Immigrant Song was singing
While Moby Dick with Ahab fought The Battle of Evermore
Aboard The Crunge, D’yer Maker bound, the salty spray a’stinging.
Once more, when Travelling Riverside Blues and greens abound
Jones turning pages and gazing at the plants along the shore
And basking in such bonhomie
Thinks the Lemon Song sounds sweeter than before.
El Zee
Ten Years Gone and I’m sitting on this Night Flight
I start to
Ramble On to Friends who do not know me.
How Many More Times will I be Going to California?
Drinking Tea for One up in the Ozone Baby?
For Your Life to me is What Is and What Should Never Be
I Can't Quit You Baby, but Your Time Is Gonna Come
You know You Shook Me, when you said Babe I'm Gonna Leave You
The Good Times Bad Times Rock And Roll me; Baby Come On Home
I’ve been Dazed and Confused by your Communication Breakdown
Since I've Been Loving You That's the Way it falls.
I'm Gonna Crawl Out on the Tiles and say 'Thank You'.
But Hey Hey What Can I Do? The Song Remains the Same in all
Bring It On Home my Living Loving Maid
I’ve got a Whole Lotta Love for you this Celebration Day
In My Time of Dying I’ll send you All My Love
Me and Black Dog- Over the Hills and Far Away
I will be The Rover on that last Stairway to Heaven
In Houses of the Holy I won’t be Trampled Under Foot
I’m no Fool In The Rain, I will hold No Quarter
‘til I, on that Black Mountain Side, my Four Sticks put
In The Light I’ll see The Ocean, sing The Rain Song Down By The Seaside
My Dancing Days are over though it’s Nobody's Fault But Mine.
Then In the Evening I’ll sing The Wanton Song with pride
And with my Black Country Woman, my Heartbreaker, entwine.
And When the Levee Breaks We're Gonna Groove with Darlene
Remember Bonzo's Montreux and eat Candy Store Rock
Poor Tom he got Sick Again on Custard Pie and Tangerine Hot Dog
Trying to Boogie With Stu who danced the Misty Mountain Hop
On a South Bound Saurez flight, Hots On for Nowhere
Wearing And Tearing out his Carouselambra soul
Walter's Walk brought him to the Royal Orleans in Kashmir
Watching Achilles Last Stand by the Gallows Pole
Once in White Summer the Bron-Y-Aur Stomp was raging
Hats Off to (Roy) Harper, who an Immigrant Song was singing
While Moby Dick with Ahab fought The Battle of Evermore
Aboard The Crunge, D’yer Maker bound, the salty spray a’stinging.
Once more, when Travelling Riverside Blues and greens abound
Jones turning pages and gazing at the plants along the shore
And basking in such bonhomie
Thinks the Lemon Song sounds sweeter than before.
Sunday, 15 June 2008
Returning from the void
Can't believe how quickly the sands of time flow these days; my thoughts here being inspired by three friends from the past having got in touch recently, and the realisation that apart from being a few pounds (OK, stones) above my healthy body weight, I now have three adults for children.
NB: 'Adults For Children' is not to be taken out of context here. The phrase has a slightly seedy connotation, and conjures images of rooms full of depraved men holding shadowy, furtive meetings, which is most definitely not what I wished to convey to my readership. Nor do I ever wish to see the day that this phrase becomes emblazoned on a placard.
No- I merely- in a clumsy way I admit- wished to share that my children, fine people all, now have the power to vote, drive and legally drink in pubs. Of course, being a responsible father, I have strongly discouraged them from doing all three at once.
I feel dreadfully guilty that it has taken me around seven months to respond to David's comments (under the Gypsy Jazz heading), and realise now that this thing called blogging carries with it certain responsibilities.
Courtesy toward those who have taken the time and effort to read and actively respond to my musings / ramblings being paramount.
I will do my best to keep regular checks / entries going. Apologies to David.
I have actually been keeping a kind of blog going- in my Moleskine, which I use when I'm sitting outside breathing the freshest air one can expect in the Fitzrovia / Regents Park area of London. It helps to declutter my mind. The downside? Reading back through it and realising how much I don't remember.
Gingko Biloba may be the answer. If only I can remember to take it...
NB: 'Adults For Children' is not to be taken out of context here. The phrase has a slightly seedy connotation, and conjures images of rooms full of depraved men holding shadowy, furtive meetings, which is most definitely not what I wished to convey to my readership. Nor do I ever wish to see the day that this phrase becomes emblazoned on a placard.
No- I merely- in a clumsy way I admit- wished to share that my children, fine people all, now have the power to vote, drive and legally drink in pubs. Of course, being a responsible father, I have strongly discouraged them from doing all three at once.
I feel dreadfully guilty that it has taken me around seven months to respond to David's comments (under the Gypsy Jazz heading), and realise now that this thing called blogging carries with it certain responsibilities.
Courtesy toward those who have taken the time and effort to read and actively respond to my musings / ramblings being paramount.
I will do my best to keep regular checks / entries going. Apologies to David.
I have actually been keeping a kind of blog going- in my Moleskine, which I use when I'm sitting outside breathing the freshest air one can expect in the Fitzrovia / Regents Park area of London. It helps to declutter my mind. The downside? Reading back through it and realising how much I don't remember.
Gingko Biloba may be the answer. If only I can remember to take it...
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