Friday, March 22, 2002

Someone that sends me a text mssg to say chat on mob, then turns their mobile off is a bad person.
Good message, bad message, they were both good as it turned out.
Why is the Great British Public so in thrall to soap operas with see-through plots ? Are our lives so mundane that we need to look in at others with such dysfunctional
existences ? Do we become addicted to the plot, the people or the daily cliffhanger ?
In this country there must be oh, at least 10 daily soap operas, the viewing figures, when added together, come to more than the total UK population !
We have, in order of my awareness of them;
Eastenders, an everyday story of cockney folks;
Coronation Street, an everyday story of Mancs;
Nieghbours, an everyday story of suburban Aussies;
Home and Away, yet another everday story of Aussies;
Emmerdale, an everyday story of Yorkshire Dales folks,
The Bill, an everday story of police;
Brookside, and everday story of Scousers;
Holyoaks, an everyday story of Chester folks,
3 or 4 or more day-time tv soaps I can't even remember the names of.
Oh yes, South Park was on telly last night and I bloody well forgot.
I feel goodish today. Managed to keep off the booze since Mondays overindulgence, and feel all the better for it, even though I was almost crying with boredom yesterday evening. I went out for a long drive to keep out the bar, which after the hard session round the hilly course that preceeded it, managed to reduce me to a state of complete knackeration when I got back to the hotel at 22.00.
I also clocked up 100 miles on the car and knocked the miles to over 84000. Not bad for three years. Well shes going on Monday and I'll be driving a Volvo of all things until my new 4wd arrives soon. A Volvo ! shit, thats the last thing I want to be in, stupid middle-classmobile.
And I spoke to H away from her minder, but was a short call, and she did'nt ring back, but I have'nt turned my moby on as yet, will do that now.........
2 msgs; One expected msg, one unexpected.

Thursday, March 21, 2002

The record business in the UK could be said to be in pretty parlous state, the once-mighty EMI records makes a massive loss and pays of one of its stars to the tune of 20 million dollars, CD sales are falling, stupid diversions such as Pop Idol promotes tuneless pretty boys and girls as media stars, even though their music is re-hashed hits from long ago, evrywhere the ego is king and talent looks superfluous.
Yet, arriving from out of nowhere comes Silent Sigh by Badly Drawn Boy. This is, so far, my record of the decade, from the first time I heard it on radio a couple of weeks ago it hit me as being something special, one of those songs that is much more than a throw away pop tune. I got CDs from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, The Hives, looking for that special tune, Last year The Strokes came close with Last Nite, some of The Hives stuff is good, but not really great. They may be neat punky guitar bands but have'nt come out with that that oh so hard to describe quality that makes it special for me.
Now, at last, along comes Badly Drawn Boy, from Bolton, chainsmoking in his tea cosy hat, yet making truly great sounds. So now I'm off to buy his CD released a couple of years back, in 2000 I think. How come I missed it then ? I remember a couple of songs he had in the charts from then, and they were good. Was it because I am always looking for the ultimat modern-day punk band so overlook anything without thrashing guitars ?
We shall see.

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

Ah, half way through the week and where does that get me ? A few days nearer death, a few days away from childhood, less hair, more wrinkles and no more sodding wisdom. Where is the wisdom that comes with age ? Where ? I'm fucked if I know, none of it seems to have got itself into my head. I'm as stupid as I was aged 16.
Beer plus wine plus vodka plus three in the morning does not make for a productive day, or do much for my fitness. Well resting hear rate is good, 46, but weight is up a bit at 74.1 Kg, really at the level of fitness I think I'm at, it should be less than 73. I image that large bag of crisps and lump of cheese I just ate may not be good for fat levels.
My life is more complicated now with H. saying her friend is jealous of me. Especially after the flowers and card. Thats possibly because of MS, and worries about H staying around all the time. Well she sure as hell is'nt going anywhere with me.

Monday, March 18, 2002

Saturday training went well, milder, not dry but no howling gale, freezing air or lashing rain. Just a couple of showers.
Rode hard, looked behind & only 2 left up the hill, split again going down the main road.
Sunday only 3 of us, I guess some are already racing. Talking to this guy, he was telling me his weekly training regimen, riding, really hard
gym sessions, 2 hours on the turbo. So he must be fit and strong, got to the main hill of the day, put it in the big ring and rolled
hard to see if I could ride up sitting in the saddle, had to get out the saddle to push such a big gear round after 250 meters, at the top
looked round & no-one in sight, my erstwhile hard-man fell apart ! I waited a couple of minutes for them to catch me. Rode hardish to the big main road, then pushed up the pace to 28/30 mph to see how my legs felt and sure enough the hard-training man faded.
Built up best bike in evenings, I might ride it on Sunday, but only if the weathers good, I don't want to wreck it in some piddly race.
I'll wait for the mountain TT the next week for that.
Well, felt so pissed of this morning. Work sucks.
I could barely face the day, going through my ablutions, preparing to haul myself and all my accoutrements up the M6 seemed such a chore, and I really did'nt want to sit in the office and do that thing laughably termed 'work'. My motivation seems to have evaporated. Maybe its just this never-ending project ?
Maybe its this comedy company ?
Relationships, why do I still think of someone from 27 years ago ? Don't I already have enough complications ?