Bonus blog

I’ve only just realised that I did a blog back in mid-July with the title “Only one week left in August”
You may think I was trying to be ironic, or funny, or that I meant to put “…left until August” but I’m not sure any of those things are true.
I think I’m just an idiot. 

RC 31-7-17
2315 BST

Another month gone

Bloody Hell.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, we have reached the end of July. This disappoints me in two ways: First, it means we are screaming closer to Winter and second, it means I have loads of end-of-month reports to do for Head Office, who will simply file them somewhere without taking a look at them, leaving some algorithm-based program to do their job for them by sorting through the facts and figures and making some terrible suggestions. In another life, given another chance, I would learn all about computers and make my career as a programmer, as they seem to run the world these days. I would say you can avoid them and beat them by going for a walk in the countryside but that would be inaccurate as everything you walk past is probably being managed based on the recommendations of some kind of software, and you’d be walking along with a mobile phone in your pocket because we all fall into the trap of complying to the modern obsession with “JUST IN CASE…”
God I ramble off on tangents sometimes, don’t I?

Yesterday was nice. The weather finally improved towards something resembling Summer so we had an afternoon at the seaside with some chums. I borrowed a half-size surfboard and ended up scraping my knuckles off on the stony seabed, but it was all good. Scars are cool and scabs are a reminder of good times had, so it’s quite nice to sit here in the office with smarting fingers as it makes me think of yesterday. 
Tonight we’re going to go and see “Dunkirk” which should be nice and cheerful. 
See you in August, friends. 

RC 31-7-17

Not many of you will enjoy this

I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this before (or maybe I have and forgotten it) but ASTRONOMY is an anagram of MOONY STAR.
The word we use for the act of looking into space contains the words ‘moon’ and ‘star’!
Isn’t that amazing?
Isn’t it ?

RC 29-7-17

haiku to cheer me up

I’m under a cloud
Unseasonable weather
Gets me very down  

To cheer myself up
Here’s an optimistic thought
It will soon be Spring

Summer may be wet
But Autumn promises warmth
We may see sun yet

After damp July
September may save Summer
With some beach weather

Cathartic haiku
Got all my weather moans out
I can smile again

RC 27-7-17

Less than a week left in August

I don’t like the way Summer is racing past us like a Lamborghini racing past a Corsa but I suppose it happens every year. As much as we’d like to think that every month is equal and time passes the same way regardless of the season, we know from experience that this simply isn’t true. As the great Charles M. Schultz put it - “Summers fly, Winters walk” and never has this seemed truer to me than now. The darker months seemed to drag like a drag queen being dragged behind a drag racer, now the brighter months are racing past us like a racehorse racing past a donkey. As the days get longer, they also seem to get faster. It’s accentuated more this year because Spring was so damn cold and so damn Wintry. Now we get a Summer full of rain and cloud? I hate to sound like a teenage girl but it simply isn’t fair. My only hope is that we have another nice September and October, the way we have in the past couple of years, because if we don’t then this year will have been a Hell of a let-down. 

RC 26-7-17

Dullsville

We are buried under a blanket of grey cloud. A blanket knitted by depressed old women whose only enjoyment in life now comes from spreading despair among their fellow human beings. A blanket of low-hanging, thick-set monochromatic horror that makes the air damp and slowly deposits drizzle on the world below without ever seeming to lose any of its volume. A blanket that covers the entire sky from horizon to horizon, from East to West, from zenith to nadir, from coastline to city centre with not even a stamp-sized spot of blue to give us hope of better times. I used to think a nuclear winter would be the worst kind of climate to encounter, but at least with a nuclear winter you get some snowfall. It might be laced with enough radioactivity to melt your eyes within a nanosecond but at least it would look pretty while falling and give us something to distract us from our misery. All we have today is the tiring monotony of concrete grey looming above us like a blanket of boredom. 
I hate it.

RC 25-7-17

An old topic, with new specifics

Still finding it hard to focus at work, so following on from previous list here’s 9 facts about films that I’ve completely made up….

In the death scene at the end of “Million Dollar Baby” Clint Eastwood really killed Hilary Swank.
“Dead Poets Society” was written and directed by Ronald Reagan, but he insisted on remaining uncredited.
The alien in the first ‘Predator’ film was played by Arnold Schwarzenegger’s sister.
The alien in the first ‘Cloverfield’ film was played by Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The alien in the first ‘Alien’ film was played by a real alien.
No ending scene was ever filmed for “Gone With The Wind” - they hoped everyone would get bored and leave the cinema before it got to the end.
Matt Damon is from Swindon.
There are some unusual unexpected marriages in Hollywood that have been kept secret from the public: Ethan Hawke and Rupert Grint had a wedding on the London Eye; Julia Roberts is actually Mrs Michael Caine, and since 2010 Bruce Willis has been married to a Minion from "Despicable Me 2".
The only film to ever win 20 Oscars was “Ernest Goes To Camp”.

Apologies, by the way, if I’ve you’ve never seen “Million Dollar Baby” - I may have just ruined the ending for you. 

RC 24-7-17
1635 BST

listage

I’m wanting to write a blog but I’m lacking inspiration. I’m stuck at work and needing a distraction. Two of my passions are films and pointless trivia. So putting all those things together, we end up with this:

A LIST OF 9 OF MY FAVOURITE FACTS ABOUT MOVIES:

The James Bond film “Spectre” features the largest explosion ever created for a motion picture.
“The Towering Inferno” was the first film to be a collaboration between two different Hollywood studios.
The original negatives of the film “Citizen Kane” were lost in a fire in the 1970s.
Quentin Tarantino’s middle name is JEROME.
The last of the 12 men from “12 Angry Men” died in 2012.
The action in “The Godfather Part 2” is set in 7 different years.
“One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” is Barack Obama’s favourite film.
The first project Alfred Hitchcock worked on in Hollywood was a proposed film about Titanic.
Between them, Dan Castellanata and Hank Azaria voice 41 different characters in “The Simpsons Movie.”

RC 24-7-17

Inspirational answer

I love this quote from our managers meeting today - a quick exchange between the overall Store Manager, and the girl in charge of the café.

MANAGER: “I’m sorry - your rota plans for the rest of the Summer don’t make sense”
CAFÉ GIRL: “Of course they don’t. The only things that make sense are S, E and N.”

The look of confusion on his face was one of my favourite sights of the year..

RC 21-7-17

New leaf; old rot

There was a time when I vowed never to blog while I was at work, but I guess those days are long gone. I also said I wouldn’t conduct any personal business online or spend any time indulging in my hobbies or interests when I was being paid to do something else, and that seems to have fallen by the wayside as well. The approach of middle age seems to have brought about a change in my attitude. Or maybe it’s being married that’s caused it all. Lots of other things seem to have altered since our wedding day, so marriage may as well get the blame for this as well. 
Our lives do seem to be a bit boring now compared to our time pre-nuptials. We moved house a lot and I had unusual shift patterns so we always made the most of our time together. Now we have our own place and I work regular hours and we seem to have fallen into a pattern. We’ve become ‘those people’ - married, stuck-in-their-ways, stuck-in-a-rut couples who become less exciting and more miserable as they amble day-by-day towards a time when they hate each other.  Or maybe I’m just a grumpy sod today and by this time tomorrow everything will seem wonderful. 

RC 20-7-17

Stormy

Today has been really muggy. Muggier than a big mug on which there’s a mugshot of someone drinking a MugShot from a mug while wearing a T-shirt that says WORLD’S BIGGEST MUG on the front. I love the Summer but it gets to me a bit when it’s so close. I feel itchy and tetchy and possibly some other words that end with ‘-tchy’ that I can’t quite think of right now. It’s hard to get vocabulary right when your brain is overheating and you feel like you’re wearing a thick dressing gown, even though you’re actually naked. 
Yes, that’s right - I’m naked.
Deal with that. 

RC 19-7-17

Summer's back!!

Another glorious day with temperatures well in the 20s. Amazing how much happier I feel when the sky is blue and there’s some heat in the air. Amazing how much happier EVERYONE feels. We humans really don’t seem designed for existing in gloomy weather. Makes you wonder why evolution ever bothered to bring us to Britain in the first place, but I can’t answer that coz I’m not a biologist, and unfortunately Charles Darwin is dead. 
My sexy bike put in an appearance on the roads tonight. I set off straight after work and had a joyously enjoyable scoot around the countryside. I arrived home resplendent in my fitness and renewed sense of energy, only to find Philippa in the kitchen saying “I thought you were going to cook for when I came in?” And so began another night of awkward tension in our little home. I fell into my old habit of retreating to my drum kit to avoid the atmosphere. I know it’s not the proper thing to do, or a viable long-term plan for a relationship, but sometimes I just want to block it all out and ignore the apology I need to make and drumming is a very good way for that to happen.  Once I finish blogging I might pop to the bedroom and try to instigate a conversation, as it sounds like my beloved is still awake. Or I could be a cowardly man and watch TV until she’s asleep and just hope it’s all better in the morning……..

RC 18-7-17

Inspired (ish)

Roger Federer won Wimbledon yesterday, despite being near retirement age (or so it would seem judging by the over-reaction from the BBC Sport department.) So I’ve spent the morning thinking of unfulfilled ambitions that I might still get a chance to achieve before I turn 40.  I set my dreams loose and didn’t try to rein them in by silly little things like reality, so here’s my Top 10:

Cycling the Tour de France route
Swimming the English Channel
Visiting every lake in the Lake District
Climbing to the top of Mount Everest
Writing a Number One hit record
Playing the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury
Going a week without pissing my wife off
Throw a 180 in darts
Meeting a member of the Royal Family
Writing a blog every day for a year

And here’s a similar, alternate, more realistic list that I might actually stand a chance of completing….

Cycling to work without collapsing
Swimming a length of our local pool
Visiting the duck pond in Southwold
Climbing the stairs to the staff room
Writing a birthday card without any spelling mistakes
Drawing a pyramid while humming
Going a week without pissing myself
Throw an 18 at darts
Meeting a member of the parish council
Writing a blog every day for a weekend

RC 17-7-17

I'm a bit drunk while writing this

I’m feeling a lot better now, thank you.  My cold finally cleared up yesterday, just in time for the weekend. I’m still a bit run-down though, so we had a nice, gentle quiet day at home today. Had a big lunch, watched some tennis, ordered some food in for tea, watched some more tennis and maybe, just maybe got carried away with the red wine. I can’t believe they’re still playing at Wimbledon when it’s gone ten p.m. That’s the beauty of a roof with floodlights. Shits all over the fact that it’s supposed to be played outside, but means they can go on playing after dark. You’d think they’d have sent everyone home and postponed the womens doubles til tomorrow, but no. It’s all about ‘tradition’ and tradition dictates that the womens doubles are completed on the Saturday, come what may. So poor Vesnina and Makharova (I think that’s their names) and the other two that they are currently destroying 6-0 4-0 have had to sit around all evening while the mens doubles final took five hours to complete and now they’ve got to keep playing to a finish. 
None of that was what I had planned to write about when I sat down but I got a little carried away and now I’ve forgotten what the Hell this blog was supposed to entail.
It’s 6-0 5-0 now. Blimey. I wonder if there’s ever been a final that ended 6-0 6-0 before? Be a real shitter if you battled your way to the Final, only to get gubbed senseless on what should have been your brightest day in the Wimbledon sunshine.
Anyway, my glass is empty now…..

RC 15-7-17

Thunderflies in my soup

The title of this blog today could be a reference to a number of things. It could be:
a) A Bob Dylan album title
b) The title of a dissertation by a philosophy student
c) A quote by Peter Higgs about the effect of particles on a quantum landscape.
Actually it’s none of those - it’s merely an accurate description of what happened during my lunch break today. My appetite is still being affected by my summer cold (which I might not have mentioned before…) so I didn’t really feel like packing myself some lunch. Then, about eleven-thirty, I felt really hungry, so I grabbed a tin of Heinz Big Soup (chorizo & chicken, I think) and chucked the contents in the microwave for a bit. I had enjoyed one mouthful before I had to nip outside to sign for a delivery, and when I returned the surface of the soup had been invaded by a swarm of those little flying bastards that are barely bigger than the nib of a pen, but seem to have an effect on the human population that is completely disproportionate to their size. They piss me off in several ways:
a) they get in my eyes when I’m cycling
b) they crawl around my neck when I’m sweaty at the beach and cause an infuriating tickle
c) THEY GET IN MY SOUP.
And I think that’s enough a-b-c’ing for one day.

RC 13-7-17

Skinbash

Still feel a bit crap but I did manage to do a bit of drumming tonight. Always helps to take my mind off things - even the member of staff who called in sick today with a ‘slight sniffle’ wanting me to grant them three days off to recover even though I’ve been struggling in every day despite having what basically amounts to a bad case of the simian flu from the Planet of the Apes films. 
But let’s not dwell on that.
Lucozade is a good thing when you’re feeling low. I bought lots of it from the pharmacy department in the supermarket this morning and happily guzzled it throughout the day. That’s probably why I had all that energy to drum with. It’s probably also why my teeth feel like they’ve been painted with glucose. As young Stephanie (who served me) said - “You might as well just pour sugar into some orange juice, that’s basically what you’re buying.”
I wanted to say “I feel like shit and I want a pick-me-up, not some cack-handed advice from a 17-year-old college drop-out who is earning minimum wage and being passed around the guys in the warehouse like a pallet truck” BUT I DIDN’T.
I am such a good person, despite my illness. 

RC 12-7-17

Red-nosed, and remorseful

You may have noticed I was feeling a little bit fired-up and feisty yesterday. The truth is my cold was getting me down again and I wanted to lash out at something so I took my bat to the internet. I had gone to bed on Sunday hoping to greet a new day with better health, only to awake as full of snot as ever and with painful sinuses and bronchia. It feels like it’s been going on for ages and it’s really peeing me off now, but it’s wrong of me to try and make myself feel better by moaning away online. Especially when it’s more productive to make myself feel better by deliberately sneezing on people at work so I can spread the germs around and stop suffering alone. So I apologise. 

RC 11-7-17

Paranoid ramblings? Or close to the truth?

At which point did the internet go from being an open, expansive wonder-tool that anyone could use for their own benefit, to a controlled, invasive, secretive, government-friendly all-in-one moneyspinning mega-company lining the pockets of only five or six? 
When did the big corporations take over and grab you by the balls and make it so that you had to give them all your information (for them to sell on between themselves, incidentally) just to access your own photographs? When did that happen?
I’m thinking it was probably sometime in 2007 but I may be wrong. 
We used to have all the power. We could stop companies controlling us by going online and doing our own research and going back to them with the info to prove that they were unfair or wrong. Not any more.  They’ve wrestled back the steering wheel and they’ve done it through collusion and subterfuge. 
Originally, you could search for something anonymously and leave no trace. Nowadays you can’t even look at a company’s homepage without creating a profile, choosing a password that gives a clue to your hobbies, or providing the middle names of all your descendants on both sides of the family going back six generations. And you’re so used to doing it, you do it without a thought. You give them details that you wouldn’t dare leave written on a piece of paper in your pocket. You do it with trust and with ignorance and they take it and use it to their advantage. They help each other, and they hound us. 
Don’t believe me? Do a simple search for something like home insurance and see how many different companies contact you in the next few days, even though you haven’t put your name into anything or left your contact details. Your simple act of going there to have a look means they know who you are and what you’re looking for, because at some point in the past you clicked ‘Accept’ in the terms and conditions box without giving a tiny thought to what they meant.
If you’re still living under the illusion of control; if you still think you are doing your own thing and being your true self and using the internet exclusively to your own advantage, you’re a twat.  They’ve got you.

RC 10-7-17

Woe is me

I have been feeling incredibly tired for the past few days. I guess it’s the knock-on effect of the cold. Struggling into work every day and battling through the garage hours left me drained, with the consequence that I’ve spent most of the weekend asleep. So I get screwed twice - I feel like crap but still have to get to work, then when I’ve got time for myself I’m too tired to enjoy it. Life can be cruel sometimes. Cruel and unenjoyable. I’ll probably feel better tomorrow, just in time to go back to frigging work.
On a positive note, “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” is on tonight, so I can watch that and then go and see the third film in the series this week while Philippa is playing badminton. Unless I go down with flu or something, which is probably more likely…

RC 9-7-17

The downside of working with the public

I have my annual Summer cold. One of those crappy, insipid, debilitating, not-bad-enough-to-have-time-off-work-but-bad-enough-to-make-you-feel-shitty affairs that I seem to pick up at work every July or August. 
I think I caught it from Mrs Beverley, a 20-something mum-of-two who brings her Cinquecento in at least once a week for a fill-up. She was sniffing and spluttering and sneezing all over the place last week and I remember the counter being moist after she departed. I’ve never been someone who wants to clean his hands with antibac soap after every human encounter but maybe that’s the way I should go in the future. I’m sick of having this run-down, sore head, achey-joints, melancholic fatigue that plagues me every Summer for a fortnight. 
On the plus side - Wimbledon is on and the BBC Sport website have cameras on 15 courts, so I’m watching lots of tennis in my office. 

RC 5-7-17