w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

At the Goodwood Festival of Speed yesterday, the most impressive sight was a South African Airways 747 flying at just over stalling speed, at an angle of at least 30 degrees.

400 tons of metal, looking like it was just about to fall out of the sky...

So that's me out of here for a fortnight, to a Greek island for a spot of scuba and general R&R.

Back all too soon - play nicely, now.

As I’ll shortly be on blogiday (is that too convoluted for the BlogDictionary, BW?) for the first time since I started blogging, I’ll be cancelling the virtual milk and the cyberpapers.

If anyone’s interested in keeping the bloghouse aired while I’m away, please leave a comment. Don’t all rush …

P.S. small m mike (no link) is enjoying an enforced guest period over at Sashinka's which is always worth visiting anyway).

I am so glad my rail 'service provider' has changed from "South Central" to "Southern".

It gives me a new name to rail against.

Who else would reduce a mainline, rimetime 12-coacher to eight?

Then force to stand people occupying otherwise unused first class seats, so that they join the other 50+ passengers trying to hold onto something to stop them falling over.

If there'd been the slightest problem on the line, gawd knows what crush damage would have occurred.

Southern? They couldn't run a bath.

Maybe it was to celebrate Number One Son bringing his new ‘Girl From the North West’ home for the first time, but both offsprings’ conjoined coteries arrived en masse during Saturday’s bbq. So the prepared food for four to six was stretched to nine, with fifteen being ‘watered’ (i.e. drinking my red wine). But as an impromptu party and welcome, it’ll take some beating. Such great fun to have the whole gang wandering around munching (my) sausages and swigging (my) red wine and Corona lager...

Elton has never been a huge favourite of mine, but he was on Mrs. D’s “to do” list and so I was hapi to taxi.

He bounced onto stage at the Hop Farm Country Park and greeted us with “Good Evening/Good afternoon, Hop Pickers. Or whatever time of day it is.” Rock lifestyle or what?

I must admit, I hadn’t appreciated quite how accomplished a pianist he is. But then, I’m always in awe of someone who can do what I can’t. NoD got to Grade 6 and I loved hearing her play (even the repetitive set pieces for the exam). It's such an emotive instrument. We've still got it but it's been a long while since I've heard her tinkling (good sound insulation chez Mr.D. Towers).

He opened with “The Bitch is back” and progressed through many of the old classics, including “Daniel”, I’m Still Standing” (that got 'em up on their feet), some lesser well-known ones from “Mad Man Across the Water” and some newer favourites from “Songs From The West Coast”. The second encore was a haunting “Your Song” and we all left happy after two and a half hours of solid entertainment..

Apart from it taking a whole hour to move one car’s length while we tried to negotiate an exit from the car-park fields.

Small price to pay though, for listening to someone who’s actually been a part of the soundtrack of our lives for 35 years now.

No time to blog yesterday about the weekend, so here goes..

Hired a Tranny (van, not cross-dresser) on Saturday, to ship Number One Daughter back from Uni for the last time.

It’s the end of her 4-year course, to now be followed by two years of clinical placement, then a final, (seventh!) year to do the thesis for her doctorate.

Then she gets to wear a white coat, earn the big bucks and buy me a boat*

I don’t want much – just a 24 foot, twin-screw inboard, GPS, fish finder, flying bridge (watch the gulls working the water, ‘cos the baitfish are right there), retractable stern platform for the scuba and secure stowage for the rods and air-tanks….

Then a wedding reception on Saturday evening (gawd, we're weddinged out this year - but all have been brilliant)and a barbie (at someone else's house) on Sunday - so was able to get mullered.

Summer's shaping up pretty well, so far...

* She may not be aware of this maritime transaction yet.

Now that I’ve virtually exhausted my collection of vinyl to be burned to CD, my attention is turning to my old C90 audio tapes..

Admittedly, many of them are just copies of albums to be played in the car (this was waaay before mobile CD players) so they’ll be discounted straight away.

But there are some gems – lots of live stuff lifted from the radio – that sort of thing.

The first two are compilations of so-called punk bands:

We do ‘em our way

This is a collection of covers, with the Stranglers doing “Walk on by” and the Slits (I saw them live – they were truly godawful) strangling “I heard it through the grapevine”.
The Hollywood Brats’ version of “Then he kissed me” is camper than a camper van offloading a collection of pink tents – marvelous stuff.

Live Stiffs

This is a live showcase of some of the bands signed to the Stiff label and includes Elvis Costello (whatever happened to him?) singing Bacharach and David’s “I just don’t know what to do with myself”. Nick Lowe’s Led Zeppelin knock out “I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll” and the incomparable Larry Wallis (see Today’s Lyric” sings “Reconnez Cherie?” (probably his most popular track), “Semaphore signals” and the carefully-crafted “Police car” – full of menace.

Have just finished reading this book - and very evil it was too.

Recommended, though.

We live somewhere within earshot of a major "London" airport. Far enough away for it not to be intrusive, but close enough to watch the jet exhaust pebble-dashing the skies.

Something went overhead yesterday, too high up to see and in a completely different direction to the normal commercial traffic. You could hear its engines long after its six vapour trails had melded into one.

And although it was a hot afternoon, I suddenly felt very cold...

Just before we were married, I took Mrs.D. to the TT (motorcycle) races at the Isle of Man.

My bike failed its MoT just before we went, so I was even more jealous of the private bikes which filled the island.

I saw a Vincent which had been completely chromed – if the guy could have chromed the tyres, I reckon he would have.

And it the only time I ever saw another bike like mine – a Steyr-Puch 175cc.

This is part of a chain of posts linked together by word association. The previous link in the chain was here. If you want to write another link here's what to do: Find a word, phrase or theme from this post to inspire your own and go and write it. It's that simple. Try not to write something that's similar to this post. That way the subject of the posts along the chain will vary. E.g. if I write about going to the doctor's, then don't talk about the last time you were ill, instead describe how you used to play Doctors and Nurses with the girl next door. Get the idea? Your post can be in any style you want. Copy this paragraph and tack it onto the end of your post, updating the link to point here, then leave a comment here that points to your new post.

Zed is blissfully swanning around her kitchen. She’s wearing a stunning, chocolate-brown Belgian creation, with off-the-cuff remarks in white organza. Tucking her tresses into her tiara, she knows that if times get hard, she can auction it off and make a quick profiterole.

Suddenly, Blue Witch jets in through the open window. “Hi, Bee Dubya, what can I get you?”

“Just a flying visit” she answers. “Can I have my organza – sorry, organic – breakfast to go, but I wanted to ask you about avian reproduction control?”.

Zed points her in the direction of Mark of London, who is on unofficial hiatus, working on miscellaneous projects to placate the ingrates and illiterati who daily mob his comments box, like magpies around a squirrel. One is a critique of Biblical proportions about the So Solid Camden Crew's latest opus "Music to stalk girls by".

"I watched her get into the bus
And there was just the two ovus
I didden wanna make a fuss
So sat there like a dumbass wuss" *

Another is a hagiography of someone we’ll call Stuart B. In paragraphs of purple prose, Mark describes Stuart as wearing he’smittens with the owl motif.

So he redirects BW to Gert, who ponders pensively, then replies “Sorry, I haven’t got a ballet clue – I’m working two camps at the moment."

So BW raises her gaze to the clear, Blue skies and she blue wails Vaughan, wherever you are, can you help me?”

But Mr.S. is weighing up a potnoodle, which has made a rare appearance when the bloglarder door is opened.

And so the Coven Commandant returns home to count the latest hatch of D‘Oves, while Mr BW warms a pan of water on the Aga (no, not really, just kidding).

To be continued. **

* It's my blog, so it scans
** Go on then, guest-comment some ideas for me

You couldn’t measure her grin, even if you had one of those builder-sized metal tape-measures…

And that evening, when she pulled up at the hotel steps to join her friends and colleagues for a hen night, the cheer that went up from the hens was genuine.

Because they all knew how much getting that car meant to her. The one she’s wanted since she first saw one.

And whatever makes her happy….earns me Brownie points {;¬)