September 15th, 2014



Ailz (waving a Hotter catalogue under my nose) These shoes are half price. Would you like a pair?

Me: Yes.

Ailz: They've got laces.

Me: I can manage laces.

Ailz: (flicking through the pages of the catalogue) They do other kinds of shoes as well. Here, have a look.

Me: You've just got me to agree to buy a pair. If I was you I'd quit while I was ahead.

If Music Be...

How can music exist in a cloud? No, it's far too mystical for me. Give me something I can hold.

I was reading a piece by Douglas Coupland the other day. He says that those of us who grew up before there was an internet have our brains configured one way and those who grew up in the internet age have theirs configured in another. That's just the way it is. Us oldsters are capable of re-programming ourselves but we can't forget how things were. As Coupland puts it, we will always miss our pre-internet brains.

So, no, I don't have music on my computer. I have music boxed in jewel cases- on a shelf.

I was listening to a disc of Vivaldi's Four Seasons while I made lunch. There's a tune in there that was used by the BBC in the set of plays about Casanova that Denis Potter wrote for them in the early 70s. I can't hear it without seeing Frank Finlay chasing girls in pannier skirts.  It goes dum-dee-dum dum, dum dee dum dum.

I wrote "chasing", but what I really meant was "bonking".