This is another attempt coming up to prove the supposition that Live Music CAN be an enjoyable experience.
Basically what happens is: one spends the afternoon milling about pubs in the town centre becoming increasingly inebriated and discovering that "The Scumbags" or whatever have just finished their set not five minutes ago but Black River Blues are about to start at Lennon's but that's miles away and that will take twenty minutes to walk there by then we'll have missed Mr Spider at The Gauger etc etc...
Eventually one ceases to care, the number of venues still open reduces as the number of bodies trying to fit through the doors increases in direct proportion.
After a Chinese all you can eat buffet, one may find oneself texting from a toilet somewhere...
It's gonna be Great!
29th June. Chimneyman Returns.
Called in at The House With a Lot of Children And No Television, building work has progressed but is still ongoing, as it has been for the last eight years.
The eldest of the six has just finished sitting his 'Highers', when I was last working there he'd just started his first week of secondary school, consequently he and the five siblings have changed beyond recognition, I'm surprised any of them recognised me.
Five years isn't that long is it? The duration of World War II.
So imagine if you'd been taken prisoner during the fall of France and spent the entire time as a POW then finally after a series of adventures made it back to a remote house in Highland Perthshire.
First of all you're not sure which door to knock on, then a child appears but it's not clear which one,
"Is there anyone in?" (ie other than children)
"MUM! It's (..... ..........)
The Mrs might have been a little more care worn, in fact she's aged - precisely five years but not really changed, whatever that means.
The quality of the evening sunlight and the kitchen smells are the same,
"Do you want a cup of tea?"
"Only if it's proper tea"
"Earl Grey?"
"Err...no thanks, just Ordinary Tea"
I bet they said that in 1944: "I'd love a cup of tea" or
"Shall I put the kettle on?" or
"You know, you couldn't get a decent cup of tea anywhere in the whole of Nazi Germany ."
The eldest of the six has just finished sitting his 'Highers', when I was last working there he'd just started his first week of secondary school, consequently he and the five siblings have changed beyond recognition, I'm surprised any of them recognised me.
Five years isn't that long is it? The duration of World War II.
So imagine if you'd been taken prisoner during the fall of France and spent the entire time as a POW then finally after a series of adventures made it back to a remote house in Highland Perthshire.
First of all you're not sure which door to knock on, then a child appears but it's not clear which one,
"Is there anyone in?" (ie other than children)
"MUM! It's (..... ..........)
The Mrs might have been a little more care worn, in fact she's aged - precisely five years but not really changed, whatever that means.
The quality of the evening sunlight and the kitchen smells are the same,
"Do you want a cup of tea?"
"Only if it's proper tea"
"Earl Grey?"
"Err...no thanks, just Ordinary Tea"
I bet they said that in 1944: "I'd love a cup of tea" or
"Shall I put the kettle on?" or
"You know, you couldn't get a decent cup of tea anywhere in the whole of Nazi Germany ."
28th June. It Might Be Easier To Demolish And Start Over.
It was one of those Architect's abberations of the mid-seventies when the thing to do was - let it all hang out, a sort of built equivalent to Noddy Holder's sideburns and Dave Hill's platforms.
Our man must have turned to Dairylea or Velveeta cheese wedges for inspiration or possibly the Walnut Whip, then specified asbestos slates.
Planning laws were circumvented by pretending it was a boathouse although neither water nor boats ever entered the ground floor.
Before it was finished it had been redesignated as a Restaurant and only remained a Boathouse by name.
I still have a recollection of it being built and wondering like all the locals, what the hell is that? An upside down ship?
Then it was a guesthouse, then a B&B, now its a private house, of course without a chimney...
Which is why I'm wandering about all three floors, scratching my head, where on earth could a chimney go?
If it went up the outside, that would certainly add insult to injury, and be truly hideous, local opinion could easily be stirred up again on the lines of 'area of outstanding scenic beauty' and 'renewed calls for demolition.'
"Yes it's been a source of on-going debate amongst the locals for the past thirty years" admitted Mr F. the current owner.
Our man must have turned to Dairylea or Velveeta cheese wedges for inspiration or possibly the Walnut Whip, then specified asbestos slates.
Planning laws were circumvented by pretending it was a boathouse although neither water nor boats ever entered the ground floor.
Before it was finished it had been redesignated as a Restaurant and only remained a Boathouse by name.
I still have a recollection of it being built and wondering like all the locals, what the hell is that? An upside down ship?
Then it was a guesthouse, then a B&B, now its a private house, of course without a chimney...
Which is why I'm wandering about all three floors, scratching my head, where on earth could a chimney go?
If it went up the outside, that would certainly add insult to injury, and be truly hideous, local opinion could easily be stirred up again on the lines of 'area of outstanding scenic beauty' and 'renewed calls for demolition.'
"Yes it's been a source of on-going debate amongst the locals for the past thirty years" admitted Mr F. the current owner.
27th June. Tea At The Jewellers
"I've moved into another phase", I intimate to Craig the Jeweller, as I sip tea.
"Oh yes, what's that then?"
"Triathlon."
"There can't be any money in THAT, besides, that's for mental people, people that run into the sea, I've seen them."
In a flash I realised that Triathlon WAS completely mental and if I'd put as much effort into learning the secret art of precious metalwork or doing some more chimneys or God forbid, even flat renovation, ends might have met, for a short time anyway
About the only offshoot from the sport is it's supposed to give you a 'film star body', but with little proven acting ability and not much of a film industry the closest thing would be doing Life Modelling at the art college.
Meanwhile a recent graduate and new employee, in the shape of a young woman, is filing away at some ornamental gold or silver.
Of course the trouble with posing naked would be keeping still for hours and worrying about not getting a stiffy or rather these days, worrying about how long it would be before I could empty my bladder.
"Oh yes, what's that then?"
"Triathlon."
"There can't be any money in THAT, besides, that's for mental people, people that run into the sea, I've seen them."
In a flash I realised that Triathlon WAS completely mental and if I'd put as much effort into learning the secret art of precious metalwork or doing some more chimneys or God forbid, even flat renovation, ends might have met, for a short time anyway
About the only offshoot from the sport is it's supposed to give you a 'film star body', but with little proven acting ability and not much of a film industry the closest thing would be doing Life Modelling at the art college.
Meanwhile a recent graduate and new employee, in the shape of a young woman, is filing away at some ornamental gold or silver.
Of course the trouble with posing naked would be keeping still for hours and worrying about not getting a stiffy or rather these days, worrying about how long it would be before I could empty my bladder.
26th June. Care Home Walloping.
According to the Manager, Mother had thumped one of the staff last night, "You hit me Edna!`" said the indignant carer,
"Well your Mother should have done it years ago!" was the reply.
"She's getting herself disliked" said my brother who receives a daily bulletin.
As time goes by there is an insidious erosion of social convention and self-awareness.
"They're such a dreary lot in here!" Mother broadcasts to the rest of the sitting room although she's speaking to me, I'm half following an episode of Morse on the wide screen TV, "Look at that one picking their nose over there."
"What are you reading?" I ask of the book on the table, in a hurried attempt to steer her away from the subject of the other residents.
"Pardon?"
"What book are you reading at the moment?"
"What?"
"I SAID WHAT ARE YOU READING?"
"Reading? READING? Oh HE doesn't read anything," says Mother refering to Fred the elderly gent sitting in the next chair. "I don't think he CAN!"
"Well your Mother should have done it years ago!" was the reply.
"She's getting herself disliked" said my brother who receives a daily bulletin.
As time goes by there is an insidious erosion of social convention and self-awareness.
"They're such a dreary lot in here!" Mother broadcasts to the rest of the sitting room although she's speaking to me, I'm half following an episode of Morse on the wide screen TV, "Look at that one picking their nose over there."
"What are you reading?" I ask of the book on the table, in a hurried attempt to steer her away from the subject of the other residents.
"Pardon?"
"What book are you reading at the moment?"
"What?"
"I SAID WHAT ARE YOU READING?"
"Reading? READING? Oh HE doesn't read anything," says Mother refering to Fred the elderly gent sitting in the next chair. "I don't think he CAN!"
25th June. "Come to Sunny Rhyl"... Errr... No.
The rain comes down 'like stair rods', to coin a phrase of the Old Man's, with that familiar noise on the roof of the Daihatsu as I wait for Isabelle on some errand to 'Boots' in Rhyl town centre..
A House Martin climbs, dives and circles in vain above the parked cars, not many flies on the wing today.
The mind wanders to summer holidays in Wales long past, the noise of the rain on the roof of the Austin A40 then the roof of the MK I Ford Escort, the old boy struggling with the primus stove on the lee side...
Rain on the roof of caravans, chalets, converted railway carriages, cracked skylights of cottages...
A House Martin climbs, dives and circles in vain above the parked cars, not many flies on the wing today.
The mind wanders to summer holidays in Wales long past, the noise of the rain on the roof of the Austin A40 then the roof of the MK I Ford Escort, the old boy struggling with the primus stove on the lee side...
Rain on the roof of caravans, chalets, converted railway carriages, cracked skylights of cottages...
24th June. Chester Triathlon.
I hesitate on the edge of the quayside with the other black rubber-suited penguins like me at ten past eight in the grey morning, each waiting for another one to go into the brownish looking water first.
I am in Wave number three, 'Old Men' denoted by white rubber caps, our wave follows ten minutes after bright pink - 'Women'. We are under starters orders for about three minutes floating around, this is utter madness but everyone around me is doing it, therefore it must be alright because it's collective madness
The klaxon sounds! Inevitably most swimmers seem to be on a collision course, there's a certain clashing of arms and legs, my initial impression is that there's no way I can manage this, only five minutes have past and there must be about half an hour left to go.
The cold water becomes normal as does the passing of peoples houses on the riverbank, it's going to be ok, until my goggles mist up about the halfway mark, where the hell am I going?
I'm crap at the cycling but only about equally bad with the swimming and running. The heavens open during the run, the drains overflow, my calves ache and pose a certain limitation, it's kind of fun but is it a form of mass hysteria?
Isabelle is there at the finish to congratulate me...errr...no, actually she's made her way over the river to... Habitat.
I am in Wave number three, 'Old Men' denoted by white rubber caps, our wave follows ten minutes after bright pink - 'Women'. We are under starters orders for about three minutes floating around, this is utter madness but everyone around me is doing it, therefore it must be alright because it's collective madness
The klaxon sounds! Inevitably most swimmers seem to be on a collision course, there's a certain clashing of arms and legs, my initial impression is that there's no way I can manage this, only five minutes have past and there must be about half an hour left to go.
The cold water becomes normal as does the passing of peoples houses on the riverbank, it's going to be ok, until my goggles mist up about the halfway mark, where the hell am I going?
I'm crap at the cycling but only about equally bad with the swimming and running. The heavens open during the run, the drains overflow, my calves ache and pose a certain limitation, it's kind of fun but is it a form of mass hysteria?
Isabelle is there at the finish to congratulate me...errr...no, actually she's made her way over the river to... Habitat.
23rd June. TweedMill Celebration.
Combined Mother and Brother with the usual trip to "The Tweedmill", two birds with the one brick so to speak.
Most people had the Shoulder of Welsh Lamb, outrageous portions at the Tweedmill and incredible value, however this saving was quickly offset when Isabelle took it on herself to have "a quick look round".
Brother doesn't seem to be too keen on acknowledging the bare facts about being seventy, "It hit me when I got the first birthday card, when I saw the number 70 on the front, me? I can't be 70 and then every other ****ing card had 70 on it, Christ! I don't want to be reminded."
Mother got a bit teary as per the last Tweedmill trip, a cheap Xmas with wheelchair access, when it falls to me to wheel her to the Disabled Loo, "...I don't think I'll come again...it's not worth it... I wish I was dead...etc" I did my best to redirect her attention the same way one does with a small child, "Have you finished yet?"
"I don't know"
Most people had the Shoulder of Welsh Lamb, outrageous portions at the Tweedmill and incredible value, however this saving was quickly offset when Isabelle took it on herself to have "a quick look round".
Brother doesn't seem to be too keen on acknowledging the bare facts about being seventy, "It hit me when I got the first birthday card, when I saw the number 70 on the front, me? I can't be 70 and then every other ****ing card had 70 on it, Christ! I don't want to be reminded."
Mother got a bit teary as per the last Tweedmill trip, a cheap Xmas with wheelchair access, when it falls to me to wheel her to the Disabled Loo, "...I don't think I'll come again...it's not worth it... I wish I was dead...etc" I did my best to redirect her attention the same way one does with a small child, "Have you finished yet?"
"I don't know"
22nd June. "A Lot On..."
Last night saw us in attendance at a local French restaurant staffed by Polish people, I had part of a Sea Bass for health reasons, Isabelle had two desserts. Al, who was recently fifty, probably had the dearest thing on the menu with his bottle of Cotes du Rhone. Peter lingered on the pavement then made his exuses and didn't have anything, sixty, the day before yesterday, "A lot on.." he says...
We'll be missing his BBQ celebration on Sunday, if you can call it a celebration ("I never thought i'd see the Millenium"). This is because of the 'proper' Triathlon in Chester, which to be honest I'm actually pooing it about even more than last weekends combined Triathlon/ School Reunion/Perfect Woman day.
The trip will also incorporate a meal out with my brother, seventy last week, a landmark that slipped my mind until two days after.
So there we are fifty, sixty and seventy; respectively, liver damage, heart disease and arthritus. Well actually, in my brothers case, all three.
We'll be missing his BBQ celebration on Sunday, if you can call it a celebration ("I never thought i'd see the Millenium"). This is because of the 'proper' Triathlon in Chester, which to be honest I'm actually pooing it about even more than last weekends combined Triathlon/ School Reunion/Perfect Woman day.
The trip will also incorporate a meal out with my brother, seventy last week, a landmark that slipped my mind until two days after.
So there we are fifty, sixty and seventy; respectively, liver damage, heart disease and arthritus. Well actually, in my brothers case, all three.
21st June. When Wives Leave.
Up at The Gamekeeper's today who's been moved further up the Glen to another house. However I got the impression this hasn't been the only change in circumstances.
The contents of the fridge, when I went to get a drop of milk for the tea, consisted only of two large plastic bottles of Strongbow and the remains of a cheese selection pack.
The Fathers Day card on the mantlepiece but no child-sized shoes in the shoe rack gives weight to the theory that Mrs Gamekeeper has moved eleswhere along with Young Gamekeeper.
If memory serves, Mrs G. had no taste for the Game meats despite the fact that the freezer was full of various body parts from Red Deer.
I bet she refused to move any further away from civilization, dug her heels in and instead moved closer to the bright lights, far away from the dismembering, the rabbit snares, mud and the barking of Spaniels.
The contents of the fridge, when I went to get a drop of milk for the tea, consisted only of two large plastic bottles of Strongbow and the remains of a cheese selection pack.
The Fathers Day card on the mantlepiece but no child-sized shoes in the shoe rack gives weight to the theory that Mrs Gamekeeper has moved eleswhere along with Young Gamekeeper.
If memory serves, Mrs G. had no taste for the Game meats despite the fact that the freezer was full of various body parts from Red Deer.
I bet she refused to move any further away from civilization, dug her heels in and instead moved closer to the bright lights, far away from the dismembering, the rabbit snares, mud and the barking of Spaniels.
20th June. School Reunion Precipitate.
There was a pigeon today that was hanging about underneath the bird table at the house where I was working. It didn't behave like a wild bird and had rings on its legs.
Mr C. said "That's a racing pigeon that's got lost, if it arrives home late now, they'll just wring its neck because it's no use."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, we used to get them stopping on the rigs."
So I was just standing watching it walking about in the pouring rain cocking its head to one side, looking a bit forlorn.
And I thought I wonder what the Iconic Woman's doing right now?
Couldn't we just meet for ice cream and coffee at Vissochi's some time and talk rubbish or whatever sixteen year olds are meant to do?
The answer is, probably not, it's just not practical at age forty-seven, especially when you're happily married with three kids and a mortgage, we're all supposed to be grown up now and know where we're going.
Mr C. said "That's a racing pigeon that's got lost, if it arrives home late now, they'll just wring its neck because it's no use."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, we used to get them stopping on the rigs."
So I was just standing watching it walking about in the pouring rain cocking its head to one side, looking a bit forlorn.
And I thought I wonder what the Iconic Woman's doing right now?
Couldn't we just meet for ice cream and coffee at Vissochi's some time and talk rubbish or whatever sixteen year olds are meant to do?
The answer is, probably not, it's just not practical at age forty-seven, especially when you're happily married with three kids and a mortgage, we're all supposed to be grown up now and know where we're going.
19th June. 'Down, Down, Deeper and Down' - Status Quo.
I run 10k listening to Status Quo, their repetitive riffing and unvarying tempo sets an ideal pace. I start to get an ache, first in the left calf muscle then the right, when I get back it's taken five minutes too long, unless it's actually more than 10k?
It's true that the mental attitude required for sporting performance is far removed from Depression, because it would be all too easy to think, why am I doing this? Then the next thought would be STOP, and that would be the end of it.
I think of the Police, Ambulance and the power boat in the river tonight, looked like they were searching for a jumper off the bridge, somebody that felt they couldn't go on.
If only they'd been introduced to Triathlon.
It's true that the mental attitude required for sporting performance is far removed from Depression, because it would be all too easy to think, why am I doing this? Then the next thought would be STOP, and that would be the end of it.
I think of the Police, Ambulance and the power boat in the river tonight, looked like they were searching for a jumper off the bridge, somebody that felt they couldn't go on.
If only they'd been introduced to Triathlon.
18th June. I Buy a Painting.
Mrs W. a customer from chimney world about five years ago phoned up and said 'They were moving to a smaller house and did I want to buy that painting at the top of their stairs?' she was only asking because she knew I liked it.
So I went round on the way home and yeah I do like it. So I had to make her an offer, then there was some haggling, 'I think you'll find you've got a bargain there' she says.
It was too big to fit in the Daihatsu so I had to risk putting it in the trailer. When I manouvered it through the front door Isabelle thought I must have pulled it out of a skip.
However after consulting Google about the painter it turns out that Her Majesty The Queen, and the City of Edinburgh, amongst others, have some in their collections.
Either way I still like it and want to live with it, although wall space is at a premium.
So I went round on the way home and yeah I do like it. So I had to make her an offer, then there was some haggling, 'I think you'll find you've got a bargain there' she says.
It was too big to fit in the Daihatsu so I had to risk putting it in the trailer. When I manouvered it through the front door Isabelle thought I must have pulled it out of a skip.
However after consulting Google about the painter it turns out that Her Majesty The Queen, and the City of Edinburgh, amongst others, have some in their collections.
Either way I still like it and want to live with it, although wall space is at a premium.
17th June. A.A.?
As a subscriber to the idea that you can control what you feel by what you think, then I'm beginning a new psychological experiment at the moment.
Isabelle said I was moaning a lot in my sleep during the night, so the unconscious must have got a head start.
I feel a bit like an Alcoholic that's just had a sherry at Christmas, it's probably not a good idea to go out to an Off Licence for a six-pack of Tennents Super Strength?
Whatever that would be?
Isabelle said I was moaning a lot in my sleep during the night, so the unconscious must have got a head start.
I feel a bit like an Alcoholic that's just had a sherry at Christmas, it's probably not a good idea to go out to an Off Licence for a six-pack of Tennents Super Strength?
Whatever that would be?
16th June. It Was One of My Life's Ambitions To Speak To You.
"I'm probably the only woman here who doesn't dye their hair" said my own personal icon of female perfection, who was now naturally grey, and I thought 'God, but you used to have the most amazing hair!'
I'd been hanging around with David in the car park waiting for the first reunion BBQ arrivals when a car pulled up and various former pupils got out, including a woman who didn't introduce herself but said she'd heard I'd be there this evening...
And I thought 'Is that...? No, it can't be... No, it must be...?' as the group sauntered over to the club house.
A while later when things had got going, I said to David "Is that ....?' and he says 'Yes'
It's funny that the one person whose face was most deeply etched on my psyche wasn't immediately recognisable.
Despite a reactivation of a dormant sense of inadequacy, I felt 'So what? I don't care what I talk about but I want to speak to her.' In the end, it proved easy enough, a good bit easier than I sensed it would have been in 1976, when I was much more of a dork.
Somehow, the later version woman has now been superimposed and merged with the original cherished memory in a kind of update. This is nuts, but in the process I feel like I've been robbed of something.
I'm sure it'll be a good thing in the long run. However, when I was in Asda this morning I suddenly felt a non-specific wave of sadness.
Still, I think my completion of the Edinburgh Triathlon might have impressed her because she always was quite competitive. It's not often you can achieve two life ambitions in one day.
I'd been hanging around with David in the car park waiting for the first reunion BBQ arrivals when a car pulled up and various former pupils got out, including a woman who didn't introduce herself but said she'd heard I'd be there this evening...
And I thought 'Is that...? No, it can't be... No, it must be...?' as the group sauntered over to the club house.
A while later when things had got going, I said to David "Is that ....?' and he says 'Yes'
It's funny that the one person whose face was most deeply etched on my psyche wasn't immediately recognisable.
Despite a reactivation of a dormant sense of inadequacy, I felt 'So what? I don't care what I talk about but I want to speak to her.' In the end, it proved easy enough, a good bit easier than I sensed it would have been in 1976, when I was much more of a dork.
Somehow, the later version woman has now been superimposed and merged with the original cherished memory in a kind of update. This is nuts, but in the process I feel like I've been robbed of something.
I'm sure it'll be a good thing in the long run. However, when I was in Asda this morning I suddenly felt a non-specific wave of sadness.
Still, I think my completion of the Edinburgh Triathlon might have impressed her because she always was quite competitive. It's not often you can achieve two life ambitions in one day.
15th June. National Inadequacy Day.
Oceans 13 proved a little soporific for me after a full carbo load and half a Cobra beer at the Ashoka Shak. I'm afraid I let the side down, losing consciousness about halfway through but managed a late rally for the twist at the end.
It must have finished by 11.30pm and only seemed like a long film. The idea of launching into the Commonwealth Pool for the first part of the Triathlon at 7am makes no sense whatsoever.
Tomorrows event is mixed up with some European Duathlon thing with proper serious athletes, the roads are closed and there's even a portable grandstand at the finishing line.
I know this because I had to drive all the way there in the friday evening Edinburgh traffic just to register tonight for some reason. The weather is cold and wet, normal for June.
I can feel a sense of pre-race anxiety coming on, which should go well with pre - School Reunion inadequacy later in the day.
It must have finished by 11.30pm and only seemed like a long film. The idea of launching into the Commonwealth Pool for the first part of the Triathlon at 7am makes no sense whatsoever.
Tomorrows event is mixed up with some European Duathlon thing with proper serious athletes, the roads are closed and there's even a portable grandstand at the finishing line.
I know this because I had to drive all the way there in the friday evening Edinburgh traffic just to register tonight for some reason. The weather is cold and wet, normal for June.
I can feel a sense of pre-race anxiety coming on, which should go well with pre - School Reunion inadequacy later in the day.
14th June. School - Reunion With Inadequacy.
Even I had the wisdom at sixteen to see that asking the girl I'd never even spoken to but had secretly adored for the duration of the 'O' levels and 'Highers' to the Annual Hillwalking Club Christmas dance was risking rejection and ridicule.
All the more so when it would have meant required consent for roughly a twenty-eight mile round trip in the dark through rural Angus in mid-December, on the back of a Yamaha FS1E.
According to current science, in a multi-dimensional universe this possibility became an actuality, though even that seems barely credible...
I'd like to meet the version of myself with the confidence to have pulled that off, although he must be right up his own bottom.
All the more so when it would have meant required consent for roughly a twenty-eight mile round trip in the dark through rural Angus in mid-December, on the back of a Yamaha FS1E.
According to current science, in a multi-dimensional universe this possibility became an actuality, though even that seems barely credible...
I'd like to meet the version of myself with the confidence to have pulled that off, although he must be right up his own bottom.
13th June. Thirty Years.
This upcoming school reunion BBQ should or rather could be a fascinating study in deterioration both physical and mental.
However I was more or less a complete non-entity until I purchased a Yamaha FSIE 'sports moped' which to some extent set me apart, however this came too late as by then it was only a matter of a few months until the wider world beckoned.
This consisted of crossing approximately 10 yards across the road into the then College of Technology a decision made on the basis of looking out of the window of the school and thinking mmmm.. I'll go there.
The fact is many of the ex-pupils may have changed beyond recognition but even if by some elixir of youth they hadn't, I'm not sure I'd still be able to recognize them, let alone put a name to a face and of course vis versa.
(FSIE? naturally there's a website)
http://www.fs1e.co.uk
However I was more or less a complete non-entity until I purchased a Yamaha FSIE 'sports moped' which to some extent set me apart, however this came too late as by then it was only a matter of a few months until the wider world beckoned.
This consisted of crossing approximately 10 yards across the road into the then College of Technology a decision made on the basis of looking out of the window of the school and thinking mmmm.. I'll go there.
The fact is many of the ex-pupils may have changed beyond recognition but even if by some elixir of youth they hadn't, I'm not sure I'd still be able to recognize them, let alone put a name to a face and of course vis versa.
(FSIE? naturally there's a website)
http://www.fs1e.co.uk
12th June. Prague Spring.
Confined in a living room today with a large woman from the Czech Republic, a small child and a German Shepherd puppy which judging by the size of it's paws will eventually fill their house.
"You must be from The Netherlands" I said,
"No. Czech Republic, quite a lot of people think I'm Dutch, they say that Czech accent is halfway between Russian and German but I can't hear it myself "
I wonder why anyone would end up confined in the middle of nowhere through choice?
"Standard of living is much better here in UK, even on dole, much better than Czech Republic."
Maybe but I can't really see it, is it the black marble effect worktops and upvc conservatory?
"There must be British People who move there from here though" I asked thinking of all those programs Isabelle watches about the fortunes that can be made from property investment and amazing lifestyles that can be enjoyed behind the former Iron Curtain."
"Yes... but about one British person moving there for one hundred Czechs coming here."
"You must be from The Netherlands" I said,
"No. Czech Republic, quite a lot of people think I'm Dutch, they say that Czech accent is halfway between Russian and German but I can't hear it myself "
I wonder why anyone would end up confined in the middle of nowhere through choice?
"Standard of living is much better here in UK, even on dole, much better than Czech Republic."
Maybe but I can't really see it, is it the black marble effect worktops and upvc conservatory?
"There must be British People who move there from here though" I asked thinking of all those programs Isabelle watches about the fortunes that can be made from property investment and amazing lifestyles that can be enjoyed behind the former Iron Curtain."
"Yes... but about one British person moving there for one hundred Czechs coming here."
11th June. EasyDeath.
"I don't want to tell you how you should ride a bike but you were only a couple of feet in front of that blue Volvo when you cut in front of it." admonished Charlie.
"What blue Volvo?"
"The one you overtook back there, it must have speeded up as you were overtaking it, something wrong with your spatial awareness man, I thought that was it "
"You mean when there was that tanker in front?"
"No"
So in the process of being gentle with George's barely run-in new BMW and fiddling about with the weird Bavarian indicator switches I'd practically ruined it completely and possibly the rest of my life, thrown in...
"What blue Volvo?"
"The one you overtook back there, it must have speeded up as you were overtaking it, something wrong with your spatial awareness man, I thought that was it "
"You mean when there was that tanker in front?"
"No"
So in the process of being gentle with George's barely run-in new BMW and fiddling about with the weird Bavarian indicator switches I'd practically ruined it completely and possibly the rest of my life, thrown in...
10th June. Beer Goggles.
Donald, recently separated, has of course been casting around this, the most happening bar in our Highland destination.
Last night apart from a couple of foreign looking girls who left early and seemed disinclined to chat, there was little in the way of interest apart from a sudden influx of women in the larger sizes just before closing time, 'predatory fat birds' was George's rather jaundiced verdict, there to pick off the most vulnerable and inebriated.
Tonight though Donald has struck gold and is in the full flow of conversation with a well presented, for her age, permed woman at the bar.
The facts of human courtship are that the process is not unlike the game of 'Chicken'. Who will be the first to reveal their true level of desperation and so risk rejection?
A desperate woman can be a frightening thing or at best a turn off, however this didn't seem to be a problem here.
Over a Full Scottish Breakfast George raised the subject of Donald's encounter, "Talking of swallowing down the porridge, how did it go last night?"
"It was fun" and "The beer goggles helped" was the extent of the information volunteered.
Last night apart from a couple of foreign looking girls who left early and seemed disinclined to chat, there was little in the way of interest apart from a sudden influx of women in the larger sizes just before closing time, 'predatory fat birds' was George's rather jaundiced verdict, there to pick off the most vulnerable and inebriated.
Tonight though Donald has struck gold and is in the full flow of conversation with a well presented, for her age, permed woman at the bar.
The facts of human courtship are that the process is not unlike the game of 'Chicken'. Who will be the first to reveal their true level of desperation and so risk rejection?
A desperate woman can be a frightening thing or at best a turn off, however this didn't seem to be a problem here.
Over a Full Scottish Breakfast George raised the subject of Donald's encounter, "Talking of swallowing down the porridge, how did it go last night?"
"It was fun" and "The beer goggles helped" was the extent of the information volunteered.
9th June. George Narrowly Escapes Becoming A Human Torch.
It's funny how you can't exactly recall a smell and yet the smell when you do smell it seems to have a powerful affect on memory. So that probably explains why I always seem to forget that wonderful thing about the North West Highlands - the smells, which then seem familiar and forever linked with open spaces, freedom and maybe having an accident.
The forced draught which occurs on a motorbike gives an amplification to the sweet smell of Bog Myrtle in the midge infested boggy bits; the scent of pine trees in the shady woods with damp patches on the corners; the smell of sheep and their droppings where at any time a lamb could suddenly decide to charge under the front wheel; the aroma of the yellow flowers of gorse bushes with heavyweight bumble bees ready to splatter; the characteristic seaweed stink mixed with cold damp air, Haar reducing visibilty to 10 yards and misting up ones visor; cow pats together with tar, cattle and new gravel in the middle of the road (max speed 20mph), the umistakeable smell of petrol vapour from Charlie's bike ahead of me...errr?
George comes to a halt due to an inexplicable coldness of his left leg after having been given permission to experience the power of the Z1000. I stop next to it but hurriedly move forward, looking after Number One. Petrol is gushing out like the botttom of the tank is missing, is George about to be engulfed in a fireball of igniting vapour? was my first thought. It would be like those protesters that make their point by self-immolation but in George's case an involuntary act and largely pointless.
Luckily Charlie had recently fitted a four into one pipe so the bulk of the very hot exhaust was on the right hand side...
The forced draught which occurs on a motorbike gives an amplification to the sweet smell of Bog Myrtle in the midge infested boggy bits; the scent of pine trees in the shady woods with damp patches on the corners; the smell of sheep and their droppings where at any time a lamb could suddenly decide to charge under the front wheel; the aroma of the yellow flowers of gorse bushes with heavyweight bumble bees ready to splatter; the characteristic seaweed stink mixed with cold damp air, Haar reducing visibilty to 10 yards and misting up ones visor; cow pats together with tar, cattle and new gravel in the middle of the road (max speed 20mph), the umistakeable smell of petrol vapour from Charlie's bike ahead of me...errr?
George comes to a halt due to an inexplicable coldness of his left leg after having been given permission to experience the power of the Z1000. I stop next to it but hurriedly move forward, looking after Number One. Petrol is gushing out like the botttom of the tank is missing, is George about to be engulfed in a fireball of igniting vapour? was my first thought. It would be like those protesters that make their point by self-immolation but in George's case an involuntary act and largely pointless.
Luckily Charlie had recently fitted a four into one pipe so the bulk of the very hot exhaust was on the right hand side...
8th June. Visual Impairments.
Talk at the first bar tonight soon came round to the subject of eyesight amongst the F.E.M.C.C. members.
George has one eye 'lasered' and a contact lens in the other, why not both lasered? Dave favours contacts in both eyes and riding with visor up. 'I've got vari-focals' chips in Donald. When I try David's glasses the entire pub is a blur. Charles has prescription reading glasses but really needs a braille map of the North of Scotland, Jimmy has excellent eyesight but is nowhere to be seen on account of a bad back...
My own feeble vision became progressively worse during the last few miles to the Ferry Boat Inn, the reason, which became clear on my late arrival, was the unmourned deaths of several thousand midges (Culicoides impunctatus) whose bodies were now fused to the visor of my crash helmet.
George has one eye 'lasered' and a contact lens in the other, why not both lasered? Dave favours contacts in both eyes and riding with visor up. 'I've got vari-focals' chips in Donald. When I try David's glasses the entire pub is a blur. Charles has prescription reading glasses but really needs a braille map of the North of Scotland, Jimmy has excellent eyesight but is nowhere to be seen on account of a bad back...
My own feeble vision became progressively worse during the last few miles to the Ferry Boat Inn, the reason, which became clear on my late arrival, was the unmourned deaths of several thousand midges (Culicoides impunctatus) whose bodies were now fused to the visor of my crash helmet.
7th June. F.E.M.C.C. - Latest.
Supposed to be leaving tomorrow for the Far North but Mr R has gone and booked a carpet cleaner for Monday expecting all the mess in his living room to be over by the weekend, obviously. That means I'll be scrabbling around trying to finish his stove installation double quick in the morning.
What will happen is they'll be some snag, time will drag on and by the time I'm heading up the A9 everyone else will already be in some pub in Ullapool.
It will be as dark as the long days of June will allow, the rain will come on, my hands will be numb with vibration, they'll be a cold draught down my neck the moorland between Garve and Ullapool will seem endless, I may even run out of petrol because everything is shut. At worst a deer will jump out right in front of me, I may break both arms and lose my memory, Isabelle will be rushed to Raighmore Hospital by dint of the In Case of Emergency number in my mobile phone...
What will happen is they'll be some snag, time will drag on and by the time I'm heading up the A9 everyone else will already be in some pub in Ullapool.
It will be as dark as the long days of June will allow, the rain will come on, my hands will be numb with vibration, they'll be a cold draught down my neck the moorland between Garve and Ullapool will seem endless, I may even run out of petrol because everything is shut. At worst a deer will jump out right in front of me, I may break both arms and lose my memory, Isabelle will be rushed to Raighmore Hospital by dint of the In Case of Emergency number in my mobile phone...
6th June. Failing Eyesight Motor Cycle Club.
Decided to view prospective work in Falkland by motor cycle tonight, for two reasons.
One, because falling asleep is a lot less likely and two, to familiarise myself with riding in preparation for this coming weekend.
It's that time of year again when the F.E.M.C.C. takes to the road for its annual rally, heading in the approximate direction of Ullapool then round by Cape Wrath and along to Apoplectic Head or maybe just as far as Mild Irritation Point.
The members have to contend this year not only with failing eyesight but also bad backs, in fact they'd be as well renaming it The Bad Back Riders.
Even I had a few twinges the last couple of days as a consequence of over doing it with the kango Hammer, however I found to my surprise that the riding position gives a good lumbar curve and the continuous jolting coming up through the back wheel acted as a vibro-massage for the lower back.
One, because falling asleep is a lot less likely and two, to familiarise myself with riding in preparation for this coming weekend.
It's that time of year again when the F.E.M.C.C. takes to the road for its annual rally, heading in the approximate direction of Ullapool then round by Cape Wrath and along to Apoplectic Head or maybe just as far as Mild Irritation Point.
The members have to contend this year not only with failing eyesight but also bad backs, in fact they'd be as well renaming it The Bad Back Riders.
Even I had a few twinges the last couple of days as a consequence of over doing it with the kango Hammer, however I found to my surprise that the riding position gives a good lumbar curve and the continuous jolting coming up through the back wheel acted as a vibro-massage for the lower back.
5th June. Menu Anxiety.
Having had sight of an NHS workbook on Social Anxiety which was amongst the paperwork that had to be sorted out following The Vanishing, I was well positioned to put some of it's guidance into practice when we found ourselves in another restaurant with Junior tonight.
Faced with the closely worded menu of the local Chinese I found myself getting anxious and overwhelmed by the scope of choice when a decision had to be made.
Normally I would stick with the familiar and play safe by having a chicken curry.
The automatic negative thought of choosing something new is that it will turn out bad, this is replaced by a more rational appraisal such as "It might be surprisingly pleasant, and even if it's horrendous it's only one meal in an entire lifetime, what does it matter".
Having closed my eyes and as it were stuck a pin in the menu I ended up ordering Sizzling Mongolian Beef.
This was quite pleasant and particularly aromatic, provided there are no repercussions on the sizzling front by tomorrow morning, the exercise can be judged a success.
Faced with the closely worded menu of the local Chinese I found myself getting anxious and overwhelmed by the scope of choice when a decision had to be made.
Normally I would stick with the familiar and play safe by having a chicken curry.
The automatic negative thought of choosing something new is that it will turn out bad, this is replaced by a more rational appraisal such as "It might be surprisingly pleasant, and even if it's horrendous it's only one meal in an entire lifetime, what does it matter".
Having closed my eyes and as it were stuck a pin in the menu I ended up ordering Sizzling Mongolian Beef.
This was quite pleasant and particularly aromatic, provided there are no repercussions on the sizzling front by tomorrow morning, the exercise can be judged a success.
4th June. The Vanishing - Latest.
The Vanishing seems to have been a consequence of bereavement plus financial debt, resulting in a desire to escape, hence the disappearance.
In terms of problem solving, this approach, although understandable, did little to improve the situation.
Anxiety levels were further raised when Juniors mother learnt the full extent of the involvement of the authorities and the fact her reappearance was sufficient news to be mentioned on Border TV...
In terms of problem solving, this approach, although understandable, did little to improve the situation.
Anxiety levels were further raised when Juniors mother learnt the full extent of the involvement of the authorities and the fact her reappearance was sufficient news to be mentioned on Border TV...
3rd June. Lost and Found.
Despite a partial eclipse by 'The Vanishing' (see 2nd June), there still remained today's Triathlon event to focus on.
It took a bit of doing, force feeding oneself with porridge at 5.45 am before setting off for the venue, but this is recommended for carbohyrate loading.
As the start time approached, apprehension mixed with porridge to facilitate a flight or fight response bowel-wise.
I felt great after the finish but quickly returned to feeling sick again once it became clear that I'd somehow gone the wrong way and neglected to complete the necessary two circuits of the final running section. A single circuit was for the novice race which ran concurrently.
The latest twist in the five day disappearance of Junior's Mother came as a surprise to the local Constabulary, who had several teams out searching locally, when she reportedly walked into an A&E Department 50 miles away.
Madness or manipulation may be two possible explanations...
It took a bit of doing, force feeding oneself with porridge at 5.45 am before setting off for the venue, but this is recommended for carbohyrate loading.
As the start time approached, apprehension mixed with porridge to facilitate a flight or fight response bowel-wise.
I felt great after the finish but quickly returned to feeling sick again once it became clear that I'd somehow gone the wrong way and neglected to complete the necessary two circuits of the final running section. A single circuit was for the novice race which ran concurrently.
The latest twist in the five day disappearance of Junior's Mother came as a surprise to the local Constabulary, who had several teams out searching locally, when she reportedly walked into an A&E Department 50 miles away.
Madness or manipulation may be two possible explanations...
2nd June. Like The Vanishing.
Junior phoned up this afternoon, and after my preamble about having received his sponsorship form for the upcoming Skydive, he said "You might need to come down..." which sounded ominous.
It looks like his Mother - i.e. my ex-wife - has simply disappeared and is now officially a Missing Person, gone since last Wednesday he thinks. No note, no phone calls and she doesn't seem to have taken anything with her.
Friends and acquaintances can shed no light and there's nobody answering her description in A&E. The Police are conducting a search tomorrow by the riverbank...
According to the official Police Guidelines on these matters, it looks like she would be categorised as "Medium Risk" to herself, what with one thing and another recently.
It's certainly all a bit weird, to say the least, and the not knowing is disturbing...
It looks like his Mother - i.e. my ex-wife - has simply disappeared and is now officially a Missing Person, gone since last Wednesday he thinks. No note, no phone calls and she doesn't seem to have taken anything with her.
Friends and acquaintances can shed no light and there's nobody answering her description in A&E. The Police are conducting a search tomorrow by the riverbank...
According to the official Police Guidelines on these matters, it looks like she would be categorised as "Medium Risk" to herself, what with one thing and another recently.
It's certainly all a bit weird, to say the least, and the not knowing is disturbing...
1st June. Natural Born Loser.
I'd kind of decided by not replying to the Class of 76 reunion, I mean why would you want to go? £40 for a burger but then the school says if you don't have the lunch it's only £15 for the BBQ. Did I want to look around the new sports facilities? Good God! No thanks...
Sports consisted of me and the usual group of people being left when two sides had to be picked for Rugby or whatever, then the debate would be "Well we'll have so and so if you have whatsisname" more or less a bargain struck to place the most useless and uncompetitive people.
I've never really grasped the concept of being part of a winning team or a losing team, who cares?
Sports consisted of me and the usual group of people being left when two sides had to be picked for Rugby or whatever, then the debate would be "Well we'll have so and so if you have whatsisname" more or less a bargain struck to place the most useless and uncompetitive people.
I've never really grasped the concept of being part of a winning team or a losing team, who cares?
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