Been rather slow on the blogging front and to be honest, I have had little to write about, so posting seems like a pointless activity. When I have nothing to report, I try to keep in the positive by noting down some events in the future, that I am looking forward to. Instead I find myself in a strange limbo period, with work picking up pace, events in my personal life are non-existent. Nothing is happening and there is little to look forward to beyond Easter and the sweet prospect of the summer. Yet, I should not be so pessimistic, life overall is good and I should enjoy the moment. As February draws to a close, I find myself already into the third month of 2005, with my memories of Christmas so clear, 2004 feels much closer than it really is. Where is the time going?
Does something happen when you enter the dizzy heights of super car owner? Is your licence, seamlessly upgraded by the DVLA? Or overnight, do you go from standard everyday motorist to wannabe Formula One driver. I have commented already that I work in an affluent area, perhaps one of the most wealthy areas of the country. Therefore on my travels, I notice many expensive, unique motor cars on the road. Last week, was a case in point, and I have two stories for your bemused. As the country lanes converge onto the by-pass, you go from a high gradient, down hill in almost roller coaster spirals down to the dual carriageway. While this is a piece of tarmac, that begs for caution, it is not a point to become a Sunday driver. Over the past few months, I have been at the tail end of this type of driver. They slow down to a crawl, failing to notice five cars driving quite closely behind. On this particular Wednesday evening, I was behind a Porsche, which was in term, tailing (dangerously close, I might add) a Nissan Micra. I was unhappy that the Japanese super mini, was driving so slow, but decided to wait until there was the clearing (on the roundabout approach) to take take over. The Porsche had other ideas, and over took the Micra at high speed, taking the outside lane, however, as I came around the corner, a few second behind, I watched, as the driver of the German automobile, calmly, drifted into my lane ahead of me. I was shocked, to see the nerve of this driver. Although I was not really concerned with his driving. If anything I was proud to see the act of such, smooth driving (if driving can ever be smooth!?). The other incident was more of a foolish attempt by an idiotic 4×4 driver to outpace everyone else waiting in heavy traffic. After cutting me up, with a sharp overtake manoeuvre, the driver of a Mercedes ML headed off the by pass and I thought nothing of it, continuing on my journey, until I came under the bridge and the slip road joining the dual carriageway came into view. No doubt, here was the exact same off road vehicle, trying to pull off the miracle of making progress into the traffic, which was marginal. I watched in complete disbelief as this driver, instead of slowing down into the upcoming cars, which were traveling at a maximum of 12 miles per an hour, actually accelerate and almost bully himself (or herself) back onto the A road. I was shocked by this behaviour, mainly because they had gained so little ground, I was two cars behind. So what was the point? Power to the people, I give my backing to the Urban Alliance against Off Road Vehicles in towns, particularly the school run. The argument, that you enjoy your superior position above everyone else on the road (apart from a lorry or truck) is a complete meaningless point of view.
After over two years of waiting, nagging and constant berating here on my blog, my dear friend Sibtain has finally come to his senses and uploaded his blog, V3: The Resurrection, picks up where the last site left, with a new interface based on php and some fantastic graphics. Once the blog entries, including a hefty back log find themselves online, this site will become a worthwhile daily read. So, please stay tuned and for the time being, check out the gallery. The peak of the shame came in early June 2004, when I posted a Wanted Poster for Sippy on my blog (which was removed within a few weeks) and he decided to ignore me for several weeks in protest of my public acknowledgement of his failure to blog for such a long period of time. Where should I start? I think a great place, would be the beginning.
Both of us began keeping an online journal at around the same time, but for very different reasons. Without having the archives to refer to it is difficult to pin a date on this moment, but around September 2002, Sibtain began writing a blog, while I had started just a month before him. His blog, focused on the second year of his Multimedia Computing course, and hunt for a placement, while I was a year ahead on my placement and recording, on a weekly basis my experiences, feelings and thoughts. This was an ideal way for us to keep in touch and share what was going on in both of our lives, with over one hundred miles between us. While my site never stopped, only having a major cosmetic makeover in early November 2003, my Uni friend and ex-house mate site had come to an abrupt end in June, five months earlier when he had signed off, a day before he headed off to Kenya and then it was forgotten. I begged, I pleaded but always held up hope that Sippy would return to blogging. It never happened, in the summer of 2003, with so much else going on, he never got his site together. My next hope was that he would get something together before we started our respective final years and would be thoughts drifted to the FA Cup ties taking place this weekend, and the lunchtime kick off that pitched Arsenal against Sheffield United. My thoughts returned to the road, as I caught the eye of a number plate heading up the hill. The BMW, in a light blue colour, had the private plate, CRU151N, forced me to look forward to the summer. Within a few months, the sunroof will be open, the pure pop and 1980s classics will be blasted out of the stereo, even if I am sitting in my car on the drive.
Now we come to the disappointment of the weekend, the low point of the day of rest. Coming home, in time to sort myself out, put on my Arsenal home shirt and got a comfortable seat on the sofa. My family had all gone out by the first half came to life. Perhaps for the wrong reasons, but with a big Champions League game on the horizon, Arsene was right to rest some key players and put out a B team. Just a shame we ended up with a draw and ten men (which could have been worse) Yet another Arsenal blog, considers the criticisms from the cup tie. The less said about giving your opponents the chance to get back into the game, the better. Thankfully a replay is the only result but a game, in reality, which we could do without playing.
During the course of what became a quite tedious second half, I received a text message from my long time college friend, Pav. Also know on the virtual airwaves as DJ Breezy. We had started making more regularly contact via MSN at work, although I tend to the busy of the two of us! 😉 We had agreed that we should meet up soon. Little did I know that time would be sooner rather than later. In Windsor at the time, he explained that on his drive back down to Reading, he would pop down and see me. Pleasantly surprised, I anticipated his arrival, to Wycombe. This would be the first time in almost six years that he would be coming to my house. Pavneet, as he is called officially, has been my friend since our time at Henley College, studying A Level Business Studies in the same class. Over the course of our friendship, particularly during the early days, we discovered that we had a sixth sense. Both banking with the same bank, shared appreciation for the Star Wars saga and even love for those cute Nokia mobiles. Which began when both had the classic 6210. I would describe Pav, as the ideal friend, in a sense, one of the “boys”. Not only is into most of the technical things I enjoy, but he has a great passion from cars. He has come along way, since that day in the hot summer, with the July son beating down. Pav had just passed his driving test and we were off to see the advanced previews on the beginning of an epic struggle of Good versus Evil. As you will all be aware, your first car is rarely the big dream you had hoped it to be. Though, you let that afterthought slip, on the pure basis that you are legally behind the wheels of an automobile. I was in of all possible vehicles, a white, aging Proton. How times have changed, that car has gone and my friend’s tastes have changed, just slightly.
Ever since his Dad leased a BMW Compact 3 series, in the second year of college, Pav has long been associated with driving the classy cars from the German manufacturer. I can recall some great stories of driving around Reading town centre, in his blue, three door, hot hatch (more of a cruiser really). Some episodes do come to mind, but I do not want to get him into any trouble with the long arm of the law. So, I’ll save them for another time. Low and behold, after owning a quality motor for a few months, Pav is already eyeing up his next purchase. Meanwhile, current, chipped and supped up wheels, BMW 325, are available on eBay. On Saturday, when he arrived, it was getting dark, so I decided it was best to have a quick drive around Wycombe, to see how what this baby could do! Getting to a clear street, Pav put his foot to the floor, the few pedestrians, suddenly turned their heads in our direction, curious at the heavy engine noise heading their direction. Jolted back into my seat, I was shocked at the power and acceleration of this machine. Pav is by no means a boy racer, but he does have his own style and it is always an experience with him behind the wheel. Then for the shocking news headline, his next car is going to be an M3.
Just a quick thank you to Sippy for upgrading my guest book to version two. New features include timestamp for each posting, and IP logging. Spammer beware, your game is up. 😀 Talking of Mr. Bandali, his website and return to blogging should be online very soon. Don’t believe everything I say, I’ve been hyping this guy up for the past two years. Is this the moment, I will actually be proved wrong?
Went to see Nav over in Eailing on Saturday night. He had come down from Leicester to see his sister and I thought it best to go and see him. Not sure when the next opportunity will come around. We were hoping to go catch a movie down the local multiplex, there was nothing worth watching on. The option to go for a meal came about, but we could not make up our minds. Pretti was busy, having already made plans to see her friends. So my ex-house mate just headed into the town centre (is that would it is really called?) for a few drinks, nothing major and then headed back to his sister’s flat just on the outskirts of the A40. A new addition had been since my last visit back in October and the owner was giving me a quick demonstration on the benefits of being able to record movies, fast forward adverts and even pause live TV. The technology is moving on leaps and bounds, particularly the ability to record to programs simultaneously (although you have to be watching one of them, or in our case, flipping between). The anthem for the weekend was based on a quick snippet of a video I had seen on Q. Def Leppard, coming into the years after being at the peak of their powers, but still to have their biggest and most popular hit. The song was new to me, but the computer graphics, although make Money For Nothing by Dire Straits, look quite ancient. Even if when discovering it was 1992, you wonder why the video is not better, particular as this was the year, the machine returned, with devastating affect. Then, I found the lyrics and discovered the meaning behind them, the teenage antics of Bart Simpson. A great, radio friendly, rock song, just a shame I was so busy this weekend, I never got the chance to burn it onto CD. Maybe next weekend, when I have a chance. How does it compare to the classics? Well, Photograph and Pour Some Sugar On Me, have the edge, in terms of style, sound and lyrical composition. Don’t get me wrong, this is vintage Def Leppard, but it just shame that they have lost that special magic, that defined them in the 1980s. More coal in the fire to stoke my argument, the best era for us all, is long behind us.