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Another month gracefully slips by and with it a whole host of things done, things that should have been done, and things that maybe would have been done if only the opportunity had arisen.
There is a program coming up on TV called something like "The Girls Who Shared a Head". During the trailer a doctor says (although this is a bit of a paraphrase) that there is a 1 in 4 chance of the girls dying and a 1 in 4 chance of the girls surviving. You have to wonder what that means the other 50% of the time. Unless what she actually meant is that there is a 1 in 4 chance of both girls dying, a 1 in 4 chance of both girls surviving, a 1 in 4 chance of girl A dying and girl B surviving, and a 1 in 4 chance of girl B dying and girls A surviving. In that case there is an equal chance of any outcome. Is that good? I'm not sure. Does this mean that in 3 out of 4 outcomes someone dies?
If you watch Diagnosis Murder it becomes starkly obvious why Dick Van Dyke was such an awful Londoner in Mary Poppins. Because he's just not a great actor. Has his son had any other acting job other than being Steve Sloane to Dick's Dr. Sloane?
Go into a "restroom" and there is no where to rest, unlike a waiting room where you can be guaranteed a wait, even if there's no where to do it restfully.
Plans change.
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It's probably the British way, but we really get almost bugger all recognition for anything we do, and if we do it is almost always so that someone can later chop our legs out from under us. So any feedback is to be treasured;
Definitely "Christ In a Rumour" my absolute fave, but ended up adding a few more to my faves :) I love the passionate and emotional approach to all your tracks here..You really are a breath of fresh air..Beautiful artist :) Thanks so much for fanning and listening..Much love and respect to you from us in Australia :) I could have made that up, but what would be the point?
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If you force your head into a motocross helmet and then wear it for 3 hours you could look like this too.
 Alternatively you could look into the distance comme ca;
 But no one will take you seriously in that shirt.
Not much time now and our heroes are honed, pumped, primed, and fully trousered. Don't cry because I've gone, smile because I was here.
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Finally laying all my kit out on the floor, well, that which I can find, and it is amazing that you could go so far for so long and need so little. All I really need is a cold beer and some good friends and somehow we'll get by. At the moment I can't find my mini-kite which is a shame as I'd like to fly that in the mountains, but maybe I put that into storage. Not sure that I can be arsed to go and find out, but maybe I will.
Mike very kindly sent around a list of what he's got and what he still needs. He's going to take an i-phone with some tunes...should I take an MP3 player or listen to the song of the wind? Being stirred by the smell of open fires. Sometimes you get a bit swamped by all the stuff that comes with living in a place and time, doing a particular thing and it's good to wash it out of your system, letting some other space seep in and maybe fill some of the gaps with something new and different. I can listen to Spandau Ballet any time and worry about stuff...nah, I'll save civilisation for the October annual beer run with Dan.
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 An Enfield Bullet. The enemy or the saviour.
My brain is shutting down as far as normal stuff is concerned. Not sure that anyone could really tell. Just as well I'm not a spaceman as they have to concentrate all the time. If you met someone and found out that they used to be a fly, but now they were a human, would it bother you that they used to be a fly and would be hanging around moldy food, dog turds, and were considered a pain in the rear by just about everything? Let's say that they were really good looking and bright and entertaining...would you forgive the fact that they had been a fly? Are we defined by what we are, what we were, or what we do (or did)?
Smiling is good for you and takes less effort than frowning.
You never forget the smile.
Currently the tune Mississippi by Train is doing good things.
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Trying to pack and decide what's needed. What's considered optimum in the pant department (other than support) for this kind of trip? How many GB of memory, does one shave, take a book? Travel straight from Liverpool or via Harvey's and thence to London and meeting with Mike and Firthy? Will another brownie help with planning or is a brownie, if you use the strictest definition, a source of carbohydrate?
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The whole Moat thing is becoming just like the world cup. We've got to find someone to blame (don't tragedies sometimes just happen?) and now thre are calls to arm all of the police all of the time. So much for British stiff upper lip. In the paper they had this picture;
 and when they showed it on the TV news the grimacing guy's face was pixelated - was that because we are not meant to know who he is (bit late now) or because he was embarrassed by his expression? What worries me a little is that these officers are really not too far away from a guy with a weapon who has shown that he's prepared to use it and rather than looking at him they are gurning for the camera. The thrill of fame gets us all in the end. Is that Minty at the back? Oh, and shouldn't the gun stock be tucked into your arm and shoulder so that when it kicks you don't start spraying bullets all over the shop? Now I know why Minty is leaving Eastenders. I once sat next to Minty at breakfast in Crouch End. I don't think he tells that story very often.
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One of the nicest things recently, some of my supervisees not only spent their hard earned money on a wooden chess set for me, but they also donated to Dan's charity. That's really, really lovely.
Today is mostly about greasing joints, rethinking the pant load, taking a Harvey Booth approach to clothing; it's the minutiae of trips. Maybe stretching would be a good idea as two of the team are complaining of bad backs.
Apparently there is a Facebook page that is celebrating Moat as a hero, although more of a hero he would be, according to some of the people, if the police officer he shot had been killed. I wonder if they would feel the same if the police officer had been their brother, father, son.
Is Jeremy Kyle actually the vilest man on TV or is it an act? Given the chance to prove your innocence on TV through a lie detector would anyone (who either wasn't paid or had a brain) agree to it? Kyle seems to be of the view that the lie detector is 100% fool-proof and absolutely uncovers the truth.
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When they started the Long Way Down Ewan said to Charlie, "Good luck...I love you." I love you too.
Anyway, that's it, time's over, the bullshitting stops, arse on saddle and flame on unto the horizon. Sweet.
There's a great song called The Distance by a band called July for Kings. It reflects a lot of what I'm feeling just now;
The west wind moans through the window screen
I hope it's strong enough to carry me
Cheerio.
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