Category Archives: Blog

General thoughts on life, the universe and everything. Stuff that doesn’t fit in the other categories!

In reply to “family holiday in tuscany”

So B “tagged” me on her recent blog of our recent holiday in Tuscany. I have not quite got my act together for the full photographic and textual story of the trip just yet, but I couldn’t let a couple of her comments pass…

Firstly, and least controversially, she suggested that you ask me for my picture of the rain on the car windscreen. I am happy to oblige:

Rain in Fiesole, Italy

You can’t quite make out how high the rain-drops were bouncing off the car bonnet but you get the idea, and it’s not too shabby for a camera phone picture.

The second is me lying upside down on a well in Poppi, on the 22nd with the caption “I’m sure S can explain this.” What can I say other than I suffer for my art?

The result is the following picture:

Poppi castle, Tuscany, Italy

It’s not the best picture that I’ve ever taken, but I’ve certainly done far worse.

Stay tuned for the full blog entry.

Special Inabilities

I hesitate to say that it happens often, but people do sometimes talk about special abilities or super-powers, even if it’s phrased as a “party trick.” Today I realised that I have what might best be described as a special inability.

I took a quick wander into Wimbledon, the nearest town to where I live. It looked gloomy outside and the weather the previous day had been windy and a little chilly. I decided to wear a jumper and my jacket. It didn’t take me long to realise that I had misjudged the weather and that I was very warm.

This happens to me all the time.

It’s a skill that I’ve never had. I often go out only to find that I dramatically underestimated the weather. This time I dressed for arctic conditions but I can’t count the number of times that I’ve misjudged the situation the other way around.

Does this happen to everyone? In town no-one else seemed to have been caught out. Many were dressed in small jackets or jumpers — but not both — a few were in t-shirts.

How do they know?

What an amazing time

Gwen Stefani gig ticketOn the approach to Wembley there were a gaggle of vendors selling glowing rabbit ears and furry wands. We speculated whether this was where Gwen Stefani bought the wardrobe for her tour. They probably sell the same merchandise for most gigs here, but there are few other artists that I could imagine actually wearing such cheap and cheesy accessories.

Of course she didn’t, at least until about two thirds of the way through the set when she launched herself into the audience, alternately running around and standing in the crowd to sing a verse. At one point she borrowed some rabbit ears from a fan. Very fetching.

Okay, so I’ve now written two paragraphs about the gig and I’ve not said a word about the music. I think that’s a function of the kind of music she’s performing these days. At one end of the spectrum you have people like Madonna who do a show. This isn’t a gig in the traditional sense of the word. It’s tightly choreographed, with dancing that is tiring to watch much less perform and audience involvement limited to dancing and singing along. At the other end you have your standard four-piece bouncing around the stage; it’s all about presence, music and, maybe, a little banter. It’s a positive feedback loop.

Stefani tries to straddle the two worlds. Her dancers are energetic and well synchronised (but not quite up to the standards of Madonna’s “Confessions” tour), while she generally struts around them but not joining in. There are frequent dress changes, ranging from track suit pants to red, sparkly hot-pants. Every two or three songs she stops the music and switches into “banter mode.” We need to be louder than Paris. She’s nervous because her father-in-law is in the audience. This song was co-written by a member of Keane.

For me it didn’t quite work. The switch from the tunes to the “ad libs” felt forced, scripted in some places, random in others. You expect exhortations to sing along, but normally on the up-tempo tracks rather than ballads.

But that’s not to say that the gig as a whole failed. At the moment there are few other people making such fun, bright and energetic pop music, and even fewer with the quirky, playful nature of Stefani. “The Sweet Escape” tour reflects these qualities from beginning to end, the whole “who’s that girl” bit when the lights go down, in the choice of songs, the projected videos, the stage set and everyone performance.

In summary: well worth seeing.

Diana

Do you remember where you were when you heard that Diana had died? I do. I woke up on the Sunday and switched on the radio over breakfast. Nothing but slow, miserable songs on Radio 1. And Capital. And Heart. Indeed, every channel I tried — and there are a lot in London. The occasional announcement that “due to recent events it wasn’t appropriate to continue with the usual programming” did little to enhance my understanding of what had happened.

After some time a flatmate emerged from his room and told me of the events in Paris that night. Many people, and not just the Daily Mail reading minority, seemed to feel the grief in a very personal way, much as one would a relative or friend. Walking in Kensington became a risky activity due to the large number of flowers covering the pavements and teary well-wishers stopping suddenly.

But my own mood failed to sync with that of the nation. Sure it was sad, but in the same way that I would be sad at the death of an actor from a seventies sitcom that I was only vaguely aware of. My reaction may sound callous, but I can’t fake it. I recognise that she helped raise the public understanding of AIDS and the plight of many countries still littered with land mines, but ultimately I didn’t know her. I never met her. And I couldn’t relate to her privileged lifestyle.

I didn’t want her to die but in the end she’s just one of many people that I didn’t know that died in 1997. There are thousands of road deaths in Europe every year and hundreds of thousands in Africa due to contaminated water, drought and civil war. I think it’s time that we paid more attention to them.

Worst. Car. Ever.

?Chrysler PT Cruiser

As is necessary when you travel to the US, I hired a car. It’s always tricky to hire a small car in America — only in the US could an SUV fit in a “small car” parking space — but I dismissed all their attempts to get me to upgrade. Maybe it was some form of revenge, but I ended up with a Chrysler P.T. Cruiser. Not terribly small. But actually terrible.

I don’t own a car. I live in London and have no need for one. I mention this so you realise that every time I drive it’s in a different type of car. Most cars are… fine. Uninspired perhaps but adequate. Put it this way: I didn’t whinge when they gave me a Neon a previous time.

The Cruiser looks hideous. I guess we’re now post-Mondeo where everything is no longer designed by a focus group, so it’s almost positive that its shape elicits an emotion. But still. What were they thinking? Bulbous, bug headlights, chrome accenting, as aerodynamic as a breeze block, this is a machine built this decade but with a design sensibility set five decades ago.

Inside things don’t get better. My eyes are immediately drawn to the clock in the middle of the dashboard. Not particularly because it looks good but because the back-light is twice as bright as the speedometer. Not a great feature when you’re trying to get used to a new car.

But once I’ve moved passed the aesthetics and have resigned myself to driving it, I find that it lets me down here too. The parking lot is, of course, designed for American cars. Yet I still need to do a three-point-turn just to get the vehicle pointing towards the exit. This thing has the turning circle of a small bus.

Out on the road things aren’t quite so bad. Visibility is poor, it’s difficult to tell how wide it is and performance isn’t exactly its middle name but, to be fair, it does get me around the Bay Area without too much trouble.

But, in the end, being barely competent is hardly a cause for celebration. I was happy to get the car back to SFO. Hopefully next time my hire car will be a better drive.