Saturday shots

My monthly round up of the pictures I've taken. It's amazing to look back over the last 31 days and see how much we've done...I shall so enjoy looking at these in twenty years time and remembering 'the good old days'. I've been using my phone a lot to take pictures with a technique called HDR, hence all the very saturated colours.


The windsock in front of the Regency crescent where we live in Brighton. If you look carefully there's a ghost of what looks like a coke can in the sky

Sunset out of our back window in Brighton

Mushroom stall in Borough Market

Borough Market flower shop. Keen Harry Potter film goers may just recognise this building

Candle on restaurant table

Chichester Cathedral

Reflections in the Regency Canal

At Hackney Wicked festival, the biggest Stick street art ever

River Lee by the Olympic Stadium

Canoeing on the river (not us!)

Inside these drawers are posters from the London Underground

On the beach...south bank of the River Thames...he was sculpting a shark

Squid at Borough Market

London smoked salmon at H Formans

The Cat on the paddloes in Brighton

The crowd at the FooFighters...it's heavily edited to get this result

Chichester Cathedral

My birthday present...my own Roas drawn on old hanging files, now framed and ready for hanging

Brighton Beach

Sunset in Brighton

Oysters...yummy!

Self-portrait

Brighton beach huts

Did you ever get one of these for valentines? Love lies bleeding: the flowers when they come drip 'blood'

At Hurts in Somerset House...red ticker tape as the finale

More beach huts

No month is complete without some street art

More street art beside the River Lee

The valentine plant flowers...aren't they stunning?

An art project called Bow Bells

Spiderman

They say you can't buck the market, and that's certainly the case at the moment. But in a world where profits can be made by driving prices down as well as up, and the truly important test of performance for a financial trader is the profit at the end of the day, we are seeing the global economy throttled. A phrase that I have seen too much of recently is that when governments came riding to the rescue of the banks in 2008, it simply transferred the debt from being a banking problem to being a sovereign one. Since then we've seen banks (I include that any financial organisation) make £billions and bankers pocket £millions. In the meantime, anyone outside the bankers bubble has seen their effective incomes drop, quite possibly they've lost their job, and prices for even the most essential items such as food and fuel rise, whilst their pensions have been eroded.

Alongside this debacle are the politicians who've helped get us into this pickle...firstly by creating the conditions over the last twenty years whereby the the financiers could wheel and deal with impunity, and then once we the crash happened by failing to take the necessary steps to reform the global financial sector from top to bottom. They continue to run scared of the Bob Diamonds of this world who weal enormous financial clout without any sense of responsibility...and as we all know with great power comes great responsibility...or not if you're a banker. Politicians of all colours have shown no sense of leadership, have failed to recognise that the system is broken and needs to be tossed away to be replaced by something that works for the majority, not the selfish minority.

Phew...thank heavens that's off my chest. Last night we were out with one of my oldest friends - The Creative Director (TCD) and his girlfriend (PE) who is a picture editor at news organisation that specialises in listening to people's phone messages. The Cat's Mother asked me what a creative director is, so I explained "he draws pictures" which is a lie, because actually he tells other people to draw pictures. In the past, I've been known to rock home from evenings out with TCD in a 'bit of a state', but last night we were all grown up.

The great thing about old friends is the memories that go with them. TCD has a chip on his shoulder. Literally. One weekend more years ago than I recall TCD and PE were down in Brighton for the weekend. We spent a hot sunny day on the beach drinking beer. Slowly. But the effect was unfortunate. We got it into our heads that it would be really funny to go into the Kentucky Fried Chicken and ask for a 'Schlongburger'. We did, and rolled around in hysterics before we were less than politely asked to leave. As we headed back to the flat TCD tripped up the curb and went down with the most almighty crash. We laughed. Boy did we all laugh as we staggered up the stairs. I guess the pain came on the next day, but he never went off to the doctors, and that's why his left shoulder has a big lump on it, even today.

The other story that we had to recount for The Cat's Mother's benefit was about PE's friend who one day ended up with a mouthful of pigs semen. But I realise you're all to busy to sit and read about that.

Anyway poor TCD had been made redundant earlier this year from his high-powered international job. It happens (see above). Two days before they exchanged on a new flat. They went ahead none the less, and since then he's kept himself busy with freelance work. Let's hope it continues and someone kicks the bankers in the goolies rather than allow them to mess up everyone else's lives.

In lieu of First Friday Photos tomorrow will be 'Saturday Shots', if I can cram it in before The Boy re-materialises. I'm not really sure where he is at the moment, but I have a feeling he has air under his feet rather than solid earth.

On yer bike

So the markets have started gunning for Italy and Spain now. I'm the last to suggest that their economies are in the best shape, but it does seem that private speculators are hell bent on achieving financial collapse for their own personal benefit. The EU has expressed concern. But what is abundantly clear is that a combination of greedy financiers and poor political leadership is creating a vicious circle that could create economic conflagration, mass unemployment and poverty not seen before. It's been the way for a long time to let the markets decide, but really the time has come for that to stop. That will involve massive reform of the international system...but as the American budget debacle shows, that reform is long overdue.

For the last four years, people have given me a funny look when I've told them that I cycle the eighteen miles to work on a mountain bike. Truth be told, my enthusiasm for it has been getting less and less, especially since we moved to Loughton and the hill at the end of the return journey is like a mountain to me. So my fitness has been tailing off. If I did the journey by road it's a lot shorter, but I much prefer going down the side of the canals and past the Olympic site which is a quite beautiful way of staying countryfied all the way into the centre of town. But as the paths are mud tracks I've had no choice but to use the heavy mountain bike. Until now. The paths have been resurfaced as part of the improvements by the Olympic committee and it's now much smoother, so I've splashed out on a lovely racing bike which is so light I can lift it with one finger. It's beautiful and once again I can get myself fit again. Which is a good thing.

I mentioned in this post about going for a check up by Life Line Screening. The initial results had looked OK to me (I am a Doctor, but a Doctor of Spin so maybe I'm not entirely qualified to make medical judgements), but as I had to pop into the doctor I showed him the final results that had been sent to me. I also mentioned my brother's heart attacks. I wouldn't quite say he panicked, but his air of professional disinterest changed completely. He immediately prescribed statins to reduce my cholesterol, and sent me off to get another blood test because my previous results showed a high likelihood of diabetes.

I took a decision about the statins...not to start taking them at the moment but rather try and tackle the problem with a better diet (one that doesn't involve a packet of marshmallows every day), but will keep it under review. I went for the blood tests yesterday, but hope that everything will be OK. I'll know in a couple of days. It's a nuisance really. But does make me really pleased that Life Line Screening made the offer...and re-inforces my feeling that if you reach a 'certain' age, then it is more than sensible to get a check up, whether by them, another private service or your own doctor.

The Boy meantime will be back on Saturday, and is currently enjoying some r'n'r on Bintan Island, wherever that is. After the depression of losing their last match has worn off, he seems to have cheered up by doing some watersports and riding an electric motorbike. He keeps mentioning it's very expensive. I don't know what on earth he means.

Time

A couple of years back, before The Cat's Mother and I were an item I was invited along to a fabulous party she had organised to celebrate her birthday. It was held in the garden under a glorious marquee, the disco played and the wine and champagne flowed all night. It was glitzy and glamorous and I new practically no one. But I do remember a very drunk man singing and dancing and celebrating louder and more wildly than anyone else there.

As The Cat's Mother and I grew closer and I became part of the wider circle of friends, I was re-introduced to this man. He was a character, a man who lived life to the full and treasured every moment. For him every moment of life was to be enjoyed to the max. A glass half full kind of person. A person who could bring a smile to everyone's faces through a quick quip or a jaunty jibe. Not a bad bone in him. He burnt the candle at both ends and in the middle as well.

He was part of our group which went off to Russia, and led the celebrations on our sleeper train late into the night, early into the morning. He was one of two that went in search of a kebab along the rest of the train, and was literally kicked down the corridor by a small blond female trainguard who probably spent her spare time throwing the hammer. And sickle. Fortunately there was enough of us that we had the carriage to ourselves and didn't disturb another soul. You may pick him out in the picture above. When we left another female trainguard who in her spare time clearly throws the discus said (phonetically) 'Shobar' which became the 'word of the holiday' even after our tour guide told us it's meaning and we had to hang our heads in shame. Later on that holiday, at the Space Museum and afterwards, he kept us more than entertained with impressions of dogs hanging their heads out of the windows of cars with the wind blowing their ears as they traveled to the space centre to be blasted into space.

Earlier this year, he danced 'til dawn at our New Year celebration, and kept the men in the winning position for the 'hat game' (you know where names go on pieces of paper in a hat and when pulled out you have to give clues...it's known by a million different names) against the cheating women. And again at UP's amazing birthday celebrations he didn't hold back in helping things go with a swing.

It may be just that he knew his time was limited because he'd grown up with a rare illness, one that gradually ate him up from the inside, that he made the most of his time. Or it may be that he was just someone who knew how to enjoy himself and bring a smile to those around him. This year, he went rapidly down hill, but that didn't stop the humour until yesterday when it stopped. Full stop. He wasn't yet 50.

I bet heaven is a riot today.

Poggy's tail

If you've got a little spare cash...and that's a big IF these days isn't it?...I'd highly recommend a couple of books by Paul Talling...one called Derelict London, and the other London's Lost Rivers. I can't say why the decay of one of the world's great cities holds such fascination for me, but it does, and both these books capture it well, mostly in pictures.

And I guess it's my fascination with seeing odd bits of London that means that when we took our guests into town this weekend we went a rather obscure way...by car, tube, Light railway, boat and finally Shanksy's pony. They're English, but live in Berlin, so they are strangers in their own country, and it was interesting to hear how Queen2B and The Prince viewed this country...a lot more positively than any one else I know does. Even the Italian who sat next to me, was jabbering on about how marvelous our our public transport system is. Mind you, when you've got a slimy dirty old man in charge of your country, you can't expect all to be right can you? I guess that's the benefit of seeing in from the outside. It's not that I don't appreciate all the good things that England has, but there are just too many downsides too.

One of those moments, and I don't doubt that it is one that you had to be there to fully appreciate, was a story that Queen2B told, about how when she was much, much younger, she played with the children of a very upper class family. In true upper class fashion, they were all as mad as a box of frogs, and all the children had been given ridiculous nick names. I would recount them all, but a couple of glasses of wine has made me forget all except one - Poggy. Dear Poggy was evidently a sweet little girl, but unfortunately her bottom kept falling out. I don't mean she dropped her knickers or her trousers, I mean erm, err, erm her bottom kept dropping out. The first time this happened when Queen2B, who was just eightish, was looking after her, Queen2B had not been warned. So was somewhat non-plussed when Poggy asked her to scoop it back....I'm sure it was terrible, but on a Sunday afternoon by the canal, we giggled like we shouldn't. Like I said you had to be there. Poggy evidently runs a shop on the south coast now, so hopefully in her middle age it's all been sorted.

Saturday we did an off-beat tourist tour which took in Borough Market, and ended up at the fabulous production of War Horse which is still running. Again, if you have any spare pennies, it's money well spent....taking puppetry to a new level. I wish the Boy had been here to see it too, but he was supping at Raffles in Singapore. That's something I've never achieved...yet!

Sunday, was entirely given over to food...firstly at my favourite restaurant - Formans -who had failed to return six phone calls and three messages. That's true English service for you. We then moved on to another place, also on the Canal 'Olive E2' where the service couldn't have been more attentive...that's southern European service for you.

A sleepless Sunday night meant that I was up and awake to hear the Americans announce that they'd finally decided to stop arsing around and would sort out their budget issues. All around me I could hear the world breath a collective sigh of relief. But the net result in the long term will undoubtedly be to hasten America's decline as the world's leading (in fact only) superpower. That will be interesting for future generations. I wonder how that looks from Singapore?

Invasion!

The Boy is doing well on his tour of the far East...although their team track record resembles an English World Cup football campaign. He's been promoted to the Firsts, which he and all his family are very pleased about. From this you will gather we have been in regular communication, and as poor communication is usually at the route of all misunderstandings, this is a very good thing indeed. Today is Wednesday, so it must be Kuala Lumpar.



Back in Blighty, we went off to Somerset House for the UK premiere of Pedro Almodovar's new film - The skin I live in. Four of us went, only one of us thought it was brilliant - 'twas I. For me, the evening started brilliantly when the man himself along with co-star Elena Anaya came and introduced the film, and then there was a fabulous fanfare of lights to get the film started. I'd give you a plot outline, but it twisted and turned in almost unimaginable ways and kept us on the edge of our seats (actually, there's no seats, we sat on the courtyard cobble stones) for two hours. The Cat's Mother's face was a picture as we progressed, from excitement through to uncertainty, to bemusement, to horror. We spent the entire journey 'discussing' the pros and cons and ins and outs. Even today we can't agree on very much about the film...the plot, the motivations, etc....but I'm still excited by it, and would recommend it highly even if it is creepy and pervy. At least we all came away knowing a new word...vaginoplasty. I suggest you Google it.

In the meantime, it seems Colonel Gadaffi has decided to take the fight to William Hague. As I cycled along the canal, I cam across this. Military weaponry hidden away in central London ready to strike with 40 minutes notice. I haven't sexed up this report. At all.

Lazy Hazy Days

I finished reading a book recently by one of my favourite authors - Jon Mcgregor. I first came across him when I picked up a copy of If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, which was followed by So Many Ways To Begin. Both startling good books. His latest is Even The Dogs. Again a startling read, but I would only recommend it if you are made of stern stuff. It's about death through drug and alcohol abusde, told through the words and minds of addicts. I don't know how accurate it is, but it is absolutely compelling, and sad and difficult to stick with. But brilliantly written. On reflection, do go and buy it and read it.

It says something about the way we get news these days, that I found out about Amy Whitehouse from a news alert from France 24...clearly they were slightly quicker off the mark than the Beeb. It was such a shock that I gasped when I read it, even though in reality it wasn't a great surprise...the subject of her impending? inevitable? early death had been conversation in the office last week. That didn't stop it bringing a tear to my eye. And the hope that maybe, just may be she wasn't actually dead. They talk about six steps of separation, and it may well be true - we know well the mother of the girl that ran off with Blake Fielder-Civil...you won't be surprised to know there were drug problems in that relationship too.

The Boy and I had both enjoyed a very shambolic performance of hers when we went to V-Festival in 2008...for both of us it was a 'festival' first. If her death proves to be a lesson is in any way to anyone, even just one person, who is an addict of any sort, then it will not have been entirely in vain.




Across the waters in Norway, terrible, terrible news which is still unfolding. Perhaps there two lessons may be learnt. The need for weapons not to be in the hands of any private citizen, and that political and/or religious extremism is only bad.

Bigger events are unfolding elsewhere, with debt-rating agency Moody's declaring Greece effectively in default, which is odd as I thought that the second EU bailout was supposed to stop that. Anyway hats off to Moody's...they certainly don't hang back. But I'm sure we've reached a stage where the authorities may just bite back.

And in America, the budget problems could yet sink us all. No wonder Vince called them nutters...he was right about the Murdochs, and it may just be time to rehabilitate the man.

Our weekend, which we didn't allow the above to take the gloss of in any way, was populated by the Muffins who came down to Brighton. It gave me the opportunity to put on my roller blades for the first time in several years. After a wobbly start I was fine...but I may be somewhat short of being able to skate fifteen miles twice a week round the streets of London. Our two days were spent mostly on the seafront just enjoying a leisurely stroll, without a care in the world. Remarkably relaxing, and of course plenty of time for me to whip my camera out.

If only life could be like this everyday.

Money, money money

I found a €20 note on the way into work this morning. It was just laying on the pavement beckoning...asking to be picked up. It would have been rude to refuse. So I did and sauntered on my way. Now what to do with it?

Kidadulthood

Yesterday The Boy went off with the school on a three and a half week rugby tour. He'll be in Sri Lanka, Singapore, Indonesia and Bantan island...exciting places, if not the world's leading rugby hot-spots. I dropped him off at school, and he jumped out without turning round; without a by your leave. If it had been his over-excitement and exuberance had got the better of him that would be fine. But in truth there had been a problem...an argument the night before, and a sound lecture from me in the morning during the car journey to the school. The Cat's Mother and I had planned and worked hard to avoid such an event, but there was a morbid and unnerving inevitability about it.

Teenage years are difficult ones - when you think you know everything, when you think the world revolves around you, when you don't have a moment's thought for anyone other than yourself, when you think adults are idiots. So that doesn't make adulthood a very easy place to be sometimes. Certainly not for the next three and a half weeks.

Heart stopping stuff

Would it be too rash to draw comparisons between the Japanese earthquake/tsunami/Fukushima, the 2011 Arab spring/summer and the News International 'scandal!' that is currently enveloping the country. There are certainly some parallels. In Japan, the natural disaster caused devastation across a widespread area, and whilst it has faded from the headlines, the problems at Fukushima may yet blow up in our faces. Across the Arab territories it all went off earlier this year, and now things are rumbling along, gradually the whole area is destabilising ready to blow up in our faces. And then the hacking by Murdoch's cronies which caused quite a kerfuffle some time ago, rumbled on until it has all blown up as it is now. There may be no value in drawing comparisons about such disparate events, but why not...it's Monday morning.

I'm occasionally prone to accepting free gifts in much the same way that the Metropolitan Police appear to accept cash in brown paper envelopes from News International staff. I don't do it too often...and frankly and bluntly the quality of items I'm offered rarely reflects the status to which I hope one day to be elevated. Please PRs pull your fingers out and give me something that glitters.

The best offer I've had recently is from Life Line Screening. It may not glitter, but it is a free health check. As I've hit a 'certain age', the thought of a health check up had crossed my mind on more than one occasion, so I scooped up the chance like a metropolitan police officer being given a brown envelope by someone from News International. Have I sued that before?

Life Line Screening set themselves up in various local venues...in my case it was at the club house of Wanstead Golf Course. When I arrived, they seemed very efficient, made me fill in the sort of form that I would expect. Over the next 45 minutes they stuck a needle in me, and attached me to various machines that went bleep and others that took the sort of pictures I've only seen when looking to see how baby is getting along. My results will be back in my sticky little fingers within 21 days, but as they said if there was anything that looks suspicious they would refer me to my doctor immediately. The one set of results I got straight away was the cholesterol from my blood test. They suggested I go and speak to my doctor and see what he says. That may be a hint...but they don't look too bad, I'm hoping Auntie Gwen will advise me on the urgent need or otherwise to write my will, and am pretty damn certain they are better than the rest of my family who have over the years extracted more than their fair share of NI payments for treatment for artery/coronary disease. So is it worth it? Should you do it? Well a quick Google will show you that this sort of thing is quite controversial, and Life Line Screening, being American, have quite an aggressive marketing strategy. But...and here's the BIG but....two weeks ago my brother had a couple of heart attacks, and last week had 'a funny turn' which had him back in hospital for a couple of days. He's just 52, and frankly and bluntly, I'd rather not lose my brother yet. So the issue of health is on my mind very much, and a check up has given me some peace of mind. Whether or not you want to stomp up the cost (I think my tests would have come to around £150) is up to you, but certainly I would suggest you check to see whether unbeknown to you your body is not going to let you, and your family, down.

Around and around and around

Is there a pillar of society tat is still standing on firm foundations now? We've had the banking crisis, we've had the MPs expenses scandal and we've had Rupert Murdoch single-handedly destroy the moral authority of the media. Naturally enough, the world moves forward, but when we see the framework of our society being shredded, it becomes time to ask is it time for root and branch reform of the way we live. Who would be brave enough? The sort of things that are tearing us apart these days would once upon a time have been enough to spark riots, even revolution. But these days we are comfortable on our sofas watching our HD Freeview TV. I'm as bad as the rest, but really we do need to change the country we live in before there's one more scandal.

Yesterday I got in to Dante's Sat Nav Inferno. Following the directions it gave me, I got within a few hundred yards of my destination before it told me to do a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me. Loyally I did so, before it told me to take the road I had just been on. A few hundred yards from my destination it told me to make a u-turn and return to the roundabout behind me.

Some might suggest that this is how the Murdoch family is feeling today. Or perhaps David Cameron.

Play it again Sam

Do please take a moment to encourage this newbie here.

In amongst the furore, the financial crisis has been knocked off the front pages. Interesting given that really and truly Murdoch's escapades are a sideshow. Or a freak show. So you may have missed that the bastard credit agencies have degraded Ireland to junk status, and they've now set their sights on Italy. Spain is a forgone conclusion it seems...destined for a bailout. The market is in suicide mode, but not without a fair bit of death and destruction elsewhere too. It really is time that the global authorities...governments and international financial institutions act decisively to put the brakes on the markets and bring them into line to create stability and avoid a scenario which would make the Lehman Brothers failure a teddy bear's picnic.

It's fascinating when the old meets the new.

Earlier this year I hooked up my hi fi system again - it had been in storage whilst the flat was being refurbished.

I hadn't really thought about the history of it all.

On the right hand side is my first CD player...I was a late comer and this one lets me play five in one go...well one after another really...hours of pure unadultered music pleasure. I suspect I got it in the mid-90s. Above it is a cassette deck - I had this when I was at boarding school! I'm sure it would still work if I had any tapes left. When I left the school, the headmasetr's wife said they would miss my music blasting across the quad. I think she was being nice. Above that is a new acquisition. It's not new. It was a gift to The Cat's Mother's ex. He left it behind, and it sat gathering dust in the corner, so it's good to get it spinning again. On the turntable is David Bowie's greatest hits...a K-Tel record. If you know K-Tel you are older than you admit.

On the left hand side and starting at the bottom is another cassette deck - a Nakamichi....and at the time, the finest you could buy. Above it is a tuner which I'm sure once picked up Radio 1 in the days of Tony Blackburn. And finally, on top, is a valve amplifier. A modern amplifier. It's beautiful in a bleak sort of way and was bought with some of the proceeds when I sold a flat to buy this one. Valves are not the most stable of things, and I've been known to rush across the room from where I've been seated comfortably to pull the plug on it before it explodes as one of the valves turns white hot.

The Boy is fascinated, particularly with the records (of course, vinyl to him). He couldn't wait to put one on...and then asked how you selected the next track....it was a skill to lower he needle into he shiny groove. He's spent ages on line now just seeing what of his favourite groups he can get on vinyl!

We spent the evening playing albums of groups that were mostly half-forgotten...crackle, crackle, crunch before a track we barely recognised played out. Absolutely brilliant!

Not very MI5

I rather like my nom de plume. It says a lot in few words, and the initials are the same as my own. For the last couple of years I've led a life of subterfuge protecting my own identity whilst dropping hints for the unwary. I have been practically schizophrenic with my real identity and my on line life. But all is undone by my own greed.

For reasons which I little understand now, I have managed to create four blogs. Three are Blogger, and two of them I ignore. And one is wordpress which I started as a work blog. At the same time I have three twitter accounts...of which I ignore one and juggle the other two...one is related to this blog, and one is for work. I couldn't tell you how many e-mails I have. I am indeed confused about my identity. I've tried to keep my work stuff separate from my personal life as I don't want colleagues and business partners to share my personal life, and some of my personal views might not be the same as theirs. But in among all these different identities, it's become impossible to juggle carefully enough, and I find myself leaving comments in my real name because the computer has kept me logged in with my wordpress identity and I've tweeted the odd tweet in my blog name when I should have been working. Sigh. I don't think I'll be replacing James Bond any time soon.

At the weekend we were in Brighton seeing the very excellent Dylan Moran. The fact that I fell asleep was nothing to do with his talents, and more to do with my scoffing far too much at the restaurant before hand. Sorry. Last week we went to see David Tenant (yes Auntie Gwen I saw him in the flesh) in the much lauded Much Ado about Nothing. The fact that I fell asleep was nothing to do with David Tenant's performance, and more to do with us being in the 'Grand Circle' which was so high that I could almost touch the moon. As I suffer from a touch of vertigo these days, I thought I would solve the problem by closing my eyes. Which sent me to the land of nod. Oh dear. Two great performances and I missed them both.

Gotcha!

It's with no hint of irony that The Times, Sky and The Sun are reporting the very distasteful revelations about phone hacking. The Sun is in particular quite circumspect, which is not surprising given that it is the daily version of the News of the World, and has taken to generalising that it is a media problem rather than a News International problem. Personally I think it's a reflection of the naked greed and ambition that permeates all too much of business today...anything goes if it adds a sale, or boosts the profit margin. In any case, it would be extraordinary if Rupert Murdoch's bid to take control of BSkyB is allowed to go through now...I suspect it might even bring the Government down. If you want to help stop the Murdochs, please sign up at Avaaz here

I was so pleased, I nearly jumped over the moon when I read that the European Commission was criticising the ratings agencies at long last. In case you missed it last night, they once again downgraded Portugal...and potentially that has a major impact on us all as it creates yet further instability in the European economic region. Whether or not you like being part of the EU, there's no getting away from our economic dependence on it so anything that undermines stability there damages UK plc.

German Finance Minister Wolfgang Schaeuble has said that he wants to "break the oligopoly of the ratings agencies" and limit their influence. Here here. They have got away with murder considering their role in the collapse of the financial sector, and it's about time these shysters are given their come uppance.

On more serious matters, last night it was the fifth form prom; the teens looked delicious, and the whole event went off without incident. in fact it seemed to go off without anything much happening at all. Shame.